The Search For Something More

FIC: Broken Spells and Wounded Hearts

2009-11-15T12:00:16Z

Broken Spells and Wounded Hearts

Rating: PG
Pairing: Gwen/Merlin (friendship), Merlin/Arthur (friendship or de-friendship, should that be), Gwen/Arthur, allusions to Merlin/Morgana
Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to the BBC.
Spoilers: Based on the episode “Sins of The Father”
Summary: Gwen will never know the reason for Arthur’s anguish that day, nor why Merlin walked around as if his world had been shattered. But two years later, Arthur becomes king and he finds out Merlin’s secret. Betrayed and angry, he banishes Merlin away and forced to make the hardest decision of her life, Gwen follows.

A/N: Yesterday’s ep broke my heart! Even though the reset thing complicates things, it was definitely worth it if only to see Colin’s portrayal of being immensely broken-hearted by a dear friend. But I really do hope that Arthur’s reaction to Merlin’s secret will be the opposite to this. Oh, and for anyone wondering, the next chapter of The Blacksmith’s Son will be up as soon as my beta gets it back to me.

***

Gwen will never know the reason for Arthur’s anguish that fateful day. When he brushes past her in the corridor looking extremely distraught, Gwen will not be able to help him or comfort him in his misery.

When she sees Merlin walking around the castle grounds looking as if everything he has ever held dear has been taken away from him, she will never fully know the reason for his despair and there is nothing she can say that will take it all away.

She will look on upon her two dearest friends and watch them as they slowly build their broken walls back up and she’ll wish only for their happiness to return.

***

Six months later, she finds out Merlin’s secret by accident.

She and Merlin are out in the woods picking up firewood when a big, unsteady branch above them nearly falls upon them, almost crushing them.

Merlin stops it with his magic.

She’s so surprised that she can’t talk to him for the rest of the day.

Later, when she’s had time to think about it, she realises what a fool she’s been and goes over to Gaius’ house to apologise.

She finds him at the table, his head bowed and looking extremely crushed.

“I’m so sorry, Merlin,” she says, her words startling him.

He looks up only to find her looking at him imploringly.

She offers him a smile.

“I...you... will- I’m sorry,” his words come muffled and confused.

She looks at him in puzzlement. “Sorry for what?”

He looks at her glumly. “For being magic.”

She walks over to him and kneels down by his side, taking his hands in hers.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” she tells him.

His eyes widen. “You mean, you’re not mad?”

“I can never be mad at you, Merlin. I should be the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

He smiles at her. “I should have told you properly.”

“You had no right to tell me. I understand, Merlin.”

“I was afraid at how you might react. How anyone might react.”

She looks at his face and then laughs. “You’ve tried to tell us before!” she cries, laughter in her voice. “And we did not believe you!”

He grins. “Do you know how frustrating that was?”

“I’ve only ever seen bad magic. I could never imagine you doing the same.”

“Magic is neither good nor bad. It’s the hands of the user that decide that.”

She takes a moment to think. “You’ve used magic many times for good things and I’ve been blind to it... The person who placed a poultice to make my father better, that was you, wasn’t it?”

He nods. “It was also me who got you unintentionally arrested. I’m sorry for that.”

“Don’t be. That was a long time ago. I’m just glad I had you looking out for me. Thank you, Merlin. For everything you’ve done.”

He smiles fully then and seeing this, Gwen smiles greatly too.

“You don’t get told that enough, do you?” she inquires.

He shakes his head.

“So who else knows your secret?” she wonders.

“Just Gaius. And now you. Oh, and perhaps a few magical people. Some of the evil variety.”

“It must have been a hard burden to bear.”

“The hardest,” he tells her.

She brings his hands to her lips and places a kiss there. He smiles down at her and she looks up at him with new eyes. Merlin isn’t just the physician’s assistant and one of her best friends anymore.

He’s so much more than that.

***

Another six months will pass and Gwen will witness a number of things.

She will watch as Morgana grows increasingly agitated by her dreams and Gwen’s suspicions that her dear friend is magical will be confirmed. She will look on as Morgana finds no comfort in the restraints of Camelot and upon eventually finding out that Merlin has been magical all along, Morgana will spurn him; blaming him for her troubles. Broken-hearted, Merlin will struggle to cope with the demise of someone he loves, and Gwen will comfort him through the tears and the confusion; wishing for his happiness to return. Wishing for Morgana’s happiness to return too.

Gwen will observe the way Arthur and the king react to Morgana’s turbulence. Torn between the fact that they love her and the fear of her magic, there is nothing they can do to ease Morgana’s heart.

And so Morgana falls and spectacularly so.

The Lady Morgause returns and though she doesn’t fully understand who she is, Gwen knows it’s something Merlin has been dreading since the day she stepped into Camelot.

In the storm that descends, Morgana finds out that Morgause is really her half-sister and that all along she’s been living a lie. Rage and fury fall upon Camelot and with the darkness binding her heart, Morgana spares nothing.

When everything in Camelot is shattered and broken, Morgana and Morgause finally depart and in their wake, they leave behind a fallen king and wounded prince.

She never sees Morgana again.

***

Gwen spends the better part of the next year looking after Arthur. With his father now dead, Arthur is king, but existing in a perpetual state of numbness and shock, it is something he cannot handle well. Gwen knows that Arthur spends his days agonising over the fact that he’s lost his father at the hands of the woman he saw as a sister.

There’s no castle for Arthur to reside in, and as the shocked people of Camelot help to rebuild their broken castle as well as their own houses, Arthur spends most nights at Gwen’s; one of the few houses not fully damaged by Morgana.

He will come in after a long day of touring the ruins and she will have dinner ready for him. He will barely speak and she will not ask about the horrors he has seen. Later, they will retire to her small bed. She will hold him as he lays there broken; wishing there was more she could do. Her hands will intertwine with his and as he cries, she will cry too, mourning the loss of her almost-sister and mourning the loss of the man she fell in love with.

She loves him still, of course, and she knows deep down he loves her too. But he is not the same person he was when she first fell in love with, and nor is she. The two of them are broken pieces that at this moment, struggle to fit together.

One day, the day will come when bright lights over shine their dark skies and they will get the chance to be together.

But for now, the best she can do is hold him tight and wish for his happiness to return.

***

It takes Camelot almost a year to be returned to its previous glory, and even then it still looks like a ghost of its former self.

With the castle rebuilt, Arthur is finally able to properly be crowned king and she, Merlin and Gaius watch on, wishing this scene to be different.

This man in front of them is not the king everyone was hoping for. The man that stands before them is hardened, less tolerant and less idealistic than the man who he was supposed to be. Whatever hopes she and Merlin had for a more liberal kingdom when she first learnt of his secret, are dashed. This king is just as unyielding as the last.

He proves this by immediately tightening up the rules on magic.

And for the third time in two years, Gwen watches as Merlin’s heart breaks.

***

The day comes when Merlin can no longer keep his magic a secret. Watching on as Arthur punishes those who show even the slightest use of magic is too much to bear, knowing that he, Arthur’s most trusted advisor, is the epitome of everything Arthur despises.

Arthur does not react to the news well.

Gwen stands beside Merlin as he breaks the news to Arthur. At first, Arthur says nothing and then his rage breaks out. He shouts words harsh enough to instil fear into her heart. Merlin tries to defend himself, but his words fall on deaf ears. Through their exchange, Arthur threatens to have Merlin hanged. She pleads with him not to and in the end, he banishes Merlin from the kingdom.

Both livid and disheartened, Merlin storms out.

Gwen remains in the room with Arthur, looking at him in disappointment.

His voice quietly angry, he says, “I can’t believe you kept this from me.”

“It was not my secret to tell.”

Arthur says nothing, but she can see him fuming.

“Why are you sending him away?” she demands. “Merlin is your dearest friend!”

“He betrayed me and lied to me all this time. He practises magic, Guinevere!”

“Of the good kind, my lord! There is no harm in that.”

He turns on her. “There is no such thing as good magic.”

She looks at him, shaking her head. “I cannot standby you, knowing you’ve banished him away. You don’t know how much he’s helped you.”

“None of that matters to me and I will not revoke my decision!”

She looks at him, studying his face; trying to find a sign of the decent man she once knew. But she finds nothing.

“Then I cannot stay here any longer.”

She turns to walk away, tears glistening down her face.

“Guinevere!” he calls out.

But she does not turn to face him.

She never wished for this day to happen. She never wished for Arthur to lose everything. She never wished for Morgana to destroy everything in her anger. She never wished for Merlin and Arthur to turn against each other. She never wished for Arthur to change from the man she loved.

She only wished for their happiness.

And now, it is her turn for her heart to be broken.

***

She packs her things and joins Merlin as he readies a horse.

Seeing her and her provisions, a sad look passes on his face.

“You shouldn’t have to come, Gwen.”

“I cannot stay here knowing that you’re gone. You should not have to do this alone, Merlin.”

She sees the tears that he has been crying; sees the hardship in his face. She reaches to him and they hug one another, trying to find comfort when there is none.

He breaks away.

“The journey will be hard, Gwen. And there will be no coming back.”

She nods. “I know. And I will not want to come back. Not when there’s nothing to come back to.”

They look at each other and then he readies a horse for her.

Gaius comes out and says his goodbyes. They know that he will find it hard without them, but Gaius cannot possibly come with them. The journey will be too much for him. They hug him hard and exchange more tears and he wishes them well.

They set upon their horses and ride off slowly, without a backwards glance.

If the two of them were to look back at the castle, they would find a lone figure watching them.

“Where are we going, Merlin?” she asks after a while.

“I don’t know,” he answers, honestly. “Far away from here.”

***

A/N: A few things-

1. I deliberately avoided the topic of Gwen’s father dying and Gwen’s possible confusion/anger that Merlin did not help (seemingly). That would have complicated things.

2. There may be a sequel depending if people want it. Hope you enjoyed. Comments welcome!

FIC: Look After You Chapter 22 (P/T)

2009-11-08T13:26:09Z

Look After You- Chapter Twenty-Two

Rating: PG-13
Pairing: P/T
Summary: Separate they suffer but together they hurt.
A/N: Thanks to Pepper for the beta. This chapter was quite hard to write, but hopefully I got it right. References and lines from Investigations.

Chapter Twenty-One

***

“Ooh, you see that skin? It's the same she's been standing in, since the day she saw him walking away. Now she’s left cleaning up the mess he made,” John Mayer, Daughters.

***

For the third night running, B’Elanna sat on her bed, with her knees drawn up and trying to find comfort in the darkness. The last thing she had expected was for Tom to leave the ship. She thought that he was just going through a phase, and perhaps just needed a bit of time to get past it. But to consciously decide that Voyager wasn’t for him anymore? She felt like they’d played a game of Parrises Squares, but instead of taking a few steps forward, they’d taken quite a few back.

“You know, I made a promise when we came back from the mines,” his voice resounded clearly in her head, and as she closed her eyes, her mind brought her back to a day that seemed so long ago.

She’d given him a sceptical look. “What kind of promise?”

“That I’d try and keep you safe, so you never get hurt like that again.”

She didn’t feel very safe right now. She felt like she was five-years-old again, and her father had just left her. Her five-year-old self sat beside her on the bed; the two of them trying so desperately to grasp hold of the situation, and battle through a tide of confusion and betrayal; both of them wondering why the men they had both loved had walked out on them.

The same thought played over and over again in both of their heads: why wasn’t I enough for him to want to stay?

***

He lay across the top bunk; the length too short for his tall frame. Below him, a Talaxian slept, snoring quite loudly. His new ‘home’ wasn’t exactly luxury, but he’d seen worse.

He was glad that everything was set in motion, and now he could actually start doing instead of thinking. Tom only hoped that he was able to make it back to find out who the spy was, if only so he could beat the crap out of him -and Tom was sure it was a ‘he’- for endangering them all like this.

***

B’Elanna was sick at looking at the warp-core. The colour it was currently emitting didn’t even remotely resemble the eye colour of a certain recently departed lieutenant, but it didn’t stop her making the comparison.

“I haven’t seen you do this in a while,” a voice beside her. She turned to find Joe standing next to her, both of them with a front-seat view of the warp core.

“Yeah,” she mused. “It’s been a while.”

“Thinking about the warp core again?”

B’Elanna let out a soft sigh. “Just thinking about how temperamental it can be, and how I can’t seem to figure it out.”

“Well, you know what warp cores are like. And let’s face it; we’ve all seen a lot of warp cores. They maybe hard to handle, but they’re worth having. And every good engineer knows that no warp core worth having comes easily.”

B’Elanna had to grin at his cheesy logic. “What if that warp core doesn’t give you the chance to find out?”

“Then you just have to give it time and see what happens. With warp cores, anything is possible.”

“I guess so,” she said with a wry smile. “Anyway, I’m sorry, I should be working...”

“B’Elanna, please. You’re the most efficient engineer I know. I bet you’re even doing a warp-core analysis just by looking at it. The offer of needing a bit of time to ‘think about the warp core’ still stands, you know.”

B’Elanna gave a small laugh. “Why do I get the feeling you’re just trying to get me out of Engineering so you can secretly take over?”

“Oh, B’Elanna, you know that I’m a lot less subtle than that.”

B’Elanna’s combadge beeped.

“Lieutenant Torres, please report to briefing room for a senior meeting,” came the Captain’s voice.

B’Elanna sighed again. “Well, lieutenant, I guess Engineering is yours,” she told him as she began to make a move for the exit. “I want no trouble in here, okay?”

“What was that?” Joe said with innocence. “You want me to throw a party in here and graffiti the walls?”

She shook her finger at him, and with a laugh he waved her off.

***

Tom gazed at his new surroundings. Compared to this, the Talaxian convoy looked like a luxury space cruise ship liner. But then, the Kazon Nistrim weren’t exactly known for their impressive decor.

Tom emitted a sigh, and sunk down on the ground. He’d only been on the convoy a couple of days, and the Kazon had swept in pretty swiftly to get him. He was surprised, but glad that things were progressing at such a rapid pace. Maybe he’d be back on Voyager within a day. But the sinking feeling in his stomach told him that things weren’t looking good.

This was affirmed for him when the doors opened to reveal Seska.

His heart sunk.

He had never trusted Seska, not even in the Maquis. Back then, he had observed her perpetual jealousy, especially over B’Elanna. Seska had hated how Chakotay’s attentions had been diverted to B’Elanna, but she wasn’t to know that it was more out of protection. After all, B’Elanna had been the youngest one onboard at that time, and Chakotay’s concern for her was hard to miss. Tom had suspected that B’Elanna’s own feelings towards Chakotay were more along the lines of adoration. To what level she adored him, he had no idea.

Seska sauntered in.

“Hello, Tom,” she said with a smirk.

Tom straightened up and headed towards her.

“Hello, Seska.” He made sure that the smirk on his face was enough to rival hers. “You’re looking radiantly maternal.”

The look in her eyes suggested she was up for a verbal sparring, and Tom was sure as hell going to give her one.

***

B’Elanna took her usual spot next to Harry. Her gaze kept going over to the spot Tom usually sat in, expecting him to somehow magically appear.

She couldn’t pay attention to a word the Captain was saying. Something about being aware that there was an increase in engine core temperature. She could have been speaking gibberish for all she knew.

Harry was obviously feeling just as unsettled as she was. She could see his despair as he tried to clutch straws, hoping that Janeway would hold open Tom’s position.

B’Elanna’s combadge beeped.

“Engineering to Torres.”

She touched her badge.

“Go ahead.”

“Carey here. We have a problem that I need your help on. The magnetic constrictors have lost alignment and the plasma stream is way too hot. You better come down here.”

“On my way.”

B’Elanna gave a sigh and headed out, with Neelix deciding to tag along with her.

***

“I leave you alone for ten minutes…” she said to Joe, with a mock stern look, as Neelix stared on in awe of her department.

He held his hands up in the air. “Hey, don’t look at me. I was busy organising the party in the office. Jonas is the one who noticed it,” he said, gesturing to the young man.

“It’s gotten worse,” Michael informed her. “I can’t get the injector valves closed. Anti-matter is starting to seep into the warp core.”

“Have you tried adjusting the power transfer conduits?” she asked as she and Joe walked up to him.

“Yes,” he replied. “No effect.”

“We have to try and contain the reaction in the core,” Joe added, growing frustrated.

Seconds later, the warning alarms started going off.

B’Elanna and Joe exchanged glances, knowing that the outcome of this could only be very bad.

A minute later and their warp core coils were damaged.

It was definitely going to be a long day.

***

Damaged warp core coils and now this?

B’Elanna and the rest of the crew stared at the screen in shock.

The Kazon Nistrim had kidnapped Tom.

It was an unexpected twist in the series of disasters that seemed to be occurring.

What did it all mean? There was something suspect about the Kazon taking Tom. It was almost if they knew he had left Voyager…

Whatever the reason, B’Elanna couldn’t help feeling scared for Tom’s safety. He would have been safe with the rest of the Talaxians, but not with the Kazon. The Kazon weren’t exactly in the habit of kidnapping men so they could enjoy tea together.

And just like that, the chances of Tom ever coming back to Voyager collapsed significantly.

Oh Tom, why couldn’t you have stayed right where you were?

***

Becoming a pilot for the Kazon wasn’t exactly top on his list of priorities. In fact, Tom was pretty sure that he’d rather eat Neelix’s leola root than fly a ship for them.

He was glad when Seska left, and immediately felt sorry for an unsuspecting Chakotay. Yet somehow, her falling pregnant and using that as a way to manipulate the Commanding Officer, didn’t exactly surprise him.

As soon as she had disappeared, Tom darted over to one of the control panels. It was foolish of her to leave him in a room unsupervised, but it would be more foolish of Tom to think they weren’t monitoring his actions. However, that wasn’t going to stop him conducting a few investigations of his own.

***

For the second time that day, B’Elanna stared in shock at information being relayed on a screen.

Was Neelix right? Had Tom in fact been conveying information to the Kazon? Wouldn’t that make him a spy?

She couldn’t quite believe the news. She knew Tom. Tom would never sell himself out like that. Or would he? Doubt clouded her mind. There was so much she still had yet to learn about Tom, but she never foresaw a dark side like this to him. But maybe that was the point.

B’Elanna felt a cold shiver rush through her.

All of a sudden she didn’t feel like she knew Tom at all.

***

Michael Jonas was the spy? That bastard!

Tom stared at the screen, slightly shocked at this revelation. Of all the people that could have been a spy, he hadn’t expected Jonas. Granted, they didn’t exactly know each other well, but he had always come across as the prissy type and someone who was more likely to go running to the Captain when someone did something wrong, not the complete opposite.

At that moment, Seska and two of her crony Kazon sidekicks came barging in, just as he was getting to the good part.

Oh crap, he thought. She’d caught him out sooner than he expected.

“Well Tom, it’s always good to have ones instincts verified.”

Tom faced her with a defiant look. “Clever plan, Seska, leading Voyager into an ambush. But even so, this ship will be outmanned and outgunned.” At least, he was fairly sure anyway.

“That’s why we have ground troops on Hemikek,” she replied, a little too smugly for her own good. “And more ships on the way.”

Crap, he thought again.

“Now, don’t you wish you’d taken my offer?”

“Seska, I’d rather eat poison,” he informed her, before the device he planted on the console exploded.

In the midst of confusion, he tackled the two Kazon and made his escape.

Just as he was leaving, he couldn’t help but turn around and retort, “Thanks for the hospitality!” And then legged it.

***

B’Elanna sat in Sickbay, waiting for the Doctor to heal a hand laceration she had procured; the thoughts in her head a jumble of confusion.

Harry had rushed into Engineering to inform her that Tom had made contact with Voyager. He had sent a frantic message, urging the Captain not to land on the planet, warning of an ambush. The two of them had looked at each other in bewilderment. Why was Tom telling the Captain that, and why had the Captain acted like she wasn’t the least bit surprised by him?

The news had made B’Elanna cut her hand by accident. Maybe Tom wasn’t a spy, and Neelix had got it all wrong! Hope began to dwell in her.

Her eyes drifted down to her cut hand and she’d left to get it sorted. Joe had already ended his shift, but she hoped that Jonas would be okay in charge for a while.

Kes came up to her, and B’Elanna managed a small smile.

“Hello, B’Elanna, how are you?” Kes asked.

“I’ll be better when this hand is fixed,” she replied.

“The Doctor will be ready in a few minutes. He’s just finishing with the others.” Kes hesitated. “Has Voyager heard from Tom?”

B’Elanna didn’t say anything for a moment. “Apparently, Tom got in contact with Voyager, not too long ago. His message was frantic, but he seems to think we’re heading in danger. It made it seem-,”

“Like he wasn’t the spy,” Kes finished. “Neelix believes the spy is still onboard, and he’s trying to figure it out.”

B’Elanna thought of Neelix donning his investigative hat, and smiled at the thought of his insistence.

B’Elanna focused her gaze on Kes’ face. There was something about her expression that called for attention...

“Kes, what is it?”

Kes hesitated again. “I believe that Tom has been acting the way he has the last two months because the Captain ordered him to.”

B’Elanna’s eyes widened. “He told you this?”

“Not exactly... when he was in the Brig, he said some things I don’t think he meant to, but I got the impression that he was given a mission that he was having trouble handling.”

Ever so quietly B’Elanna answered, “He never let me in on it.”

The two women locked gazes; Kes’ reflecting deep sympathy, and B’Elanna’s reflecting immense confusion.

***

Although he had already informed the Captain of who the spy onboard was, Tom had no doubt in his mind that Jonas would go to all means necessary to lead Voyager into the hands of the Kazon. Given that Jonas worked in Engineering, it seemed logical to assume that was the place he would use to orchestrate his damage. It didn’t take long for his brain to click that Engineering was the place B’Elanna was most likely to be. Suddenly, getting back to Voyager never seemed more important. A hundred scenarios ran through his head: Jonas holding B’Elanna hostage or Jonas going on a killing rage. It didn’t matter that his presence probably wouldn’t make a difference- he was determined to find a way to stop him.

Frantically, he flew the shuttle, struggling under fire from the Kazon ship. But this wasn’t the first time Tom had flown a ship in such perilous conditions. After everything he’d been through, after all he endured, there was no way he was going to lose now, not when he was so close to finishing. Truth be told, he never thought he’d make it this far back, and he’d be damned if he didn’t make it all the way through.

The thought of getting back to ensure B’Elanna’s safety was the last thing he thought about before his head was knocked against the console and he was rendered unconscious.

***

It really had been a long, confusing day.

For all Joe and B’Elanna’s joking about taking over Engineering, Michael Jonas had gone and done just that, almost killing Neelix in the process.

How had she not picked up on the signs? Jonas’ near-aggressive behaviour towards Neelix, his jitteriness, anxiety and distracted manner- all the signs suggested that something was wrong. And she didn’t even have a clue.

It would be fair to say she herself had been distracted. She’d been worrying about Tom and whether he would ever come back, and then later, whether he really was a spy. To find out that he wasn’t a spy was a great relief, but it opened the door to many other problems.

As for Jonas being the spy, well, B’Elanna was just glad that she hadn’t been in Engineering when Neelix had figured him out; otherwise it wouldn’t have been plasma fire that would have been his cause of death.

Exhausted, B’Elanna let out a tired yawn and decided to go to bed. She fell asleep the moment her head touched her pillow.

***

When Tom opened his eyes, he was greeted by the concern look of Kes. His vision slightly blurry, he tried to focus his gaze.

“Kes,” he said weakly, trying to smile. “It’s good to see you.” And it really was.

Kes smiled back, and reached for his hand. “It’s good to see you too, Tom.”

He tried to sit up from his position on the biobed, but Kes gently pushed him back down.

“You need to rest, Tom,” she admonished gently.

He settled back down. “What happened? Did Tuvok managed to get Jonas? Is B’Elanna okay?”

“Everything’s fine, Tom. You passed out on the way here, but Harry managed to beam you out, just in time, too. He came by earlier, and he said he’ll come and visit you in the morning. Neelix was the one who figured out about Jonas. He wasn’t convinced by you leaving the ship, and went to investigate.”

Tom had to smile at that. It sure sounded like Neelix.

“At first, there were implications that you were the spy and Neelix broadcast this information on his morning show, although with great dissatisfaction I might add. Still, he remained uncertain, and that’s how he unravelled that it was in fact Jonas. He confronted him in Engineering, although the two of them were the only ones there, and Jonas managed to barricade them in. Neelix knew that Tuvok would have trouble getting hold of Jonas, so Neelix intervened and he...it... well, Jonas ended up dying.”

“Oh,” he replied, surprised.

“Tom, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, Kes.”

“When you were in the Brig you mentioned doing something you didn’t want to do. Was this it?”

Tom let out a sigh. “Don’t get me wrong, for the most part I would do whatever it takes to ensure Voyager’s safety. But this...this was hard. The Captain wanted me to lie to everyone, and I hated that, you know? But we had to flush out the spy, and it seemed that this was the only way.”

Kes nodded. “You did a good job.” She hesitated for a moment. “Tom?”

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

“Truthfully? Not really. But I will be.”

Kes squeezed his hand reassuringly.

At that moment, the Captain walked into Sickbay, and Kes immediately retreated into the Doctor’s office.

“Tom,” she greeted gently.

“Captain,” he replied.

He suddenly felt really awkward. When he had been communicating with Voyager from his shuttle, his previous feelings of unease towards the Captain had been forgotten. Then, the only thing that mattered was getting back to Voyager. And though he couldn’t deny that getting back safely was accompanied with certain euphoria that made him forget the hardships of the mission, he could not easily forget her decision.

“You did a wonderful job, Tom,” she told him with beatific smile.

“I’m glad you think so,” he replied tersely.

“Everyone is extremely proud of you, myself included. And Neelix is already asking for your presence in tomorrow’s morning show.”

Tom nodded.

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Tom, I know this wasn’t easy for you. But you should know, sending you on this mission and gambling with your life wasn’t easy for me either. And words cannot express how grateful I am for what you did, and for making it back safely.”

He looked into her eyes. There was worry there and almost a plea for forgiveness.

But could it ever be that easy?

***

B’Elanna cursed at her computer console.

There, on screen, was Tom talking to Neelix.

How dare he! She thought furiously. How dare he just stroll back onboard as if the last few days were merely a game for him!

She observed his jokey rapport with Neelix.

Damn him!

Typical of Tom to do something like this. Typical of him to confuse everyone with his unclear intentions. Typical of him to all along be doing the honourable thing and playing the hero.

Him not telling her about the mission but letting Kes in on it, whether deliberate or not, hurt like hell. She thought- or rather hoped- that she was close enough to Tom for him to confide anything in her. She frowned. Had Harry been told? She didn’t think so. Harry would have given her a sign, surely, and even if he had been told, his confusion seemed genuine enough. If only Tom would have told her, it would have prevented so many wasted feelings: feelings of abandonment- surely he knew how much she hated people leaving her? Feelings of hurt, confusion, disappointment, and betrayal...

They’d all left the moment she realized in Sickbay that there was more to his departure than he had let on. But not the hurt. That lingered like a bad smell in the air.

“I know it seems I’m being selfish by leaving. But one day, B’Elanna, you’ll understand why I had to leave, and then you’ll see how much I wanted to stay behind. And you’ll know that I did it because I care for you, too.”

His voice sounded in her head like a gentle caress, reminding her that Tom had his reasons for concealing the truth from her, and maybe it hadn’t exactly been easy for him.

But the reminder didn’t do anything to change how she felt, and she realized that she was mad at him for all of this.

***

It was straight back to work the following day, something that Tom relished. It felt good to be back, to not have to act or lie. And sure, even revealing the truth on Neelix’s broadcast had been immensely satisfying. It felt good to be the good guy again, and on the way to the Bridge he was greeted with a slightly higher proportion of smiles than indifference to usual. As he passed Chakotay’s chair, he was greeted with a scowl. Okay, maybe he shouldn’t have made that comment about him, but he didn’t want Chakotay to think Tom was growing soft. Still, maybe he’d better apologize at some point anyway.

Tom’s first day on the Bridge passed with little event. Harry was ecstatic to have him back, but not nearly as much as Tom was to see him. When the Captain and the Commanding Officer stepped out, they made a point of throwing things at each other; their way of welcoming each other back.

One thing Tom did notice was the cool attitude of Chakotay to Janeway. Tom had been right: Chakotay was going to find it hard to accept Kathryn’s betrayal. But no doubt she’d work at changing that soon enough.

When his shift finally drew to an end, Tom joined Harry for dinner in his quarters. It felt good to be doing this again and not brooding in his room. By an unspoken agreement, the two of them did not mention his mission; that was a topic for another day. Instead, it was beer, pizza, and small talk.

Eventually, Tom asked whether B’Elanna would be joining them, and Harry informed him that she would later.

When Harry’s doorbell chimed, Tom found that he was nervous about finally seeing B’Elanna. He knew that Harry would accept him without question; B’Elanna on the other hand was a different story.

She walked in, looking exhausted after trying to get Engineering back in order. She didn’t seem surprised to see him, but nor was she jumping with joy.

He walked up to her, and instantly she eyed him.

“Hello, B’Elanna,” he greeted.

Immediately, B’Elanna’s eyes blazed with an intense fire, something that told Tom wasn’t a good sign.

With no time to fathom why she seemed so angry, her fist came crashing into his face, and for the second time in two days, Tom fell to the floor.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Look After You Chapter List

2009-11-08T13:22:47Z

Rating : PG-13 to R
Pairing: Paris/Torres
Summary: Set after the episode “Faces.” After their ordeal in the Vidiian mines, two very different people find they share a common ground.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything, apparently. The title comes from The Fray’s song Look After You.
Author’s note: There will be some back story from Jeri Taylor’s “Pathways” so it will help if you have read that, although it’s not necessary. This is slightly AU: it follows canon in some ways and deviates in others, especially later. Many thanks to Pepper9873 for being a fab beta!

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty-One, Twenty-Two, Twenty-Three, Twenty-Four, Twenty-Five, Twenty Six, Twenty Seven Part I, Twenty Seven Part II, Twenty-Eight Part I, Twenty-Eight Part II, Twenty-Nine, Thirty, Thirty-One

Look After You- What If
Summary:A what-if of Look After You. Tom turned into a lizard and kidnapped B'Elanna instead of Kathryn, and together in Sickbay they deal with the aftermath.

Master List of Arthur/Gwen Fic

2009-11-07T11:09:00Z

One-Shots

Shattered: Summary: When something breaks, it can almost be impossible to fix.
The aftermath of ‘2.04’ Because the episode was incredibly heartbreaking, it inspired incredible angst... A ficlet that's most probably made up of incomprehensive words and phrases.

For Your Honour: Summary: Lancelot was the first man to ever notice her as more than a servant. Beautiful and golden; safe and secure; gallant and determined. He could offer so many things should she wish to take them. But she knows in her heart that she can’t. Gwen is trapped in a prison, hoping that Arthur will come and rescue her, and he’s determined to be the one who does so. But things don’t always go according to plan.

Broken Spells and Wounded Hearts: Gwen will never know the reason for Arthur’s anguish that day, nor why Merlin walked around as if his world had been shattered. But two years later, Arthur becomes king and he finds out Merlin’s secret. Betrayed and angry, he banishes Merlin away and forced to make the hardest decision of her life, Gwen follows. Based on the episode, "Sins of the Father"

Multi-Part

To Make You See My Worth: After his failed attempt to rescue Gwen, Arthur tries to show that now more than ever, he has everything to prove to her. A drop of angst, a big spoonful of light-heartedness (combined with a half-spoonful of heavy-heartedness), a slicing of cheese and a few heart-melting moments made this fic. Split into five parts.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

And its sequel To The Ends of The Earth (one-shot). Summary: Merlin is not sure whether to worry when Arthur is possessed with an inexplicable need...to pick flowers for Gwen, dragging Merlin with him

Multi-Part AUs

The Blacksmith's Son: Summary: He has the hands of a blacksmith but a heart of a prince- if only she could see that. AU fic, in which Arthur is the blacksmith’s son, Gwen a princess and Lancelot the enviable (but smarmy) knight.

Chapters One, Two, Three, Four

FIC: The Blacksmith's Son (Arthur/Gwen, PG, 4/?)

2009-11-06T23:39:24Z

The Blacksmith’s Son- Chapter Four

Chapter: 4/?
Rating: PG
Pairings: Arthur/Gwen, Gwen/Lancelot, Merlin/Arthur BFFness
Disclaimer/references: Merlin does not belong to me. If you squint and close an eye, you’ll see that some scenes are vaguely based on events in canon.

Summary: He has the hands of a blacksmith but a heart of a prince- if only she could see that. AU fic, in which Arthur is the blacksmith’s son, Gwen a princess and Lancelot the enviable (but smarmy) knight.

A/N: Many thanks to lovedbyahero for her huge help on this! Also, big, big thanks to elvishwolf7 for her lovely banners that she did for me. Much appreciated!

EDIT: Forgot to add, not sure when the next chapter will be as I'm away next week, but hopefully soon!

Chapter Three here

Other chapters

***

Dinner is with her father, Morgana and Camelot’s finest knights.

Her father sits at the head of the table and she and Morgana either side of him, with the knights seated all along the rest of the table.

Her father congratulates the knights on their recent successful mission. There had been news of a big dispute between two of Camelot’s outlining villages and the knights had been sent there to resolve the issue. It had taken more than two weeks for the knights to solve the issue and they had come back particularly haggard, but King Thomas bestowed upon them words that eased their tired souls.

Every now and then Guinevere’s gaze meets Lancelot’s and they smile warmly at one another. She’s missed him, she realises. She always hated it when Lancelot went away; hated the worrying and anguish that always accompanied his departure.

They eat their meals heartily; her father constantly praising the knights and Morgana deviously quizzing the men beside her about their private lives.

The meal draws to an end and one by one the knights leave, then her father and finally Morgana who smirks at Lancelot when she sees it is just him and Gwen who remain. When everybody has gone, Lancelot moves from his seat and comes to sit opposite her.

“Gwen.” He breathes her name and takes her hand in his; placing a firm kiss against her knuckles.

She inclines her head toward him.

“It’s nice to see you,” she tells him honestly.

He keeps a hold of her hand. “Likewise,” he tells her with another dashing smile.

“So how was it?” she asks. “Your trip, I mean.”

The knight’s eyes darken slightly. “Difficult,” he answers. “The two villages had begun warring with each other and one had begun to resort to using magic, although not very convincing magic, might I add. When we got there, it was carnage. Many people lay fallen and the women were left to fight.”

She immediately lets go of his hand.

“Is that a bad thing?” she asks, careful to keep her voice neutral.

Lancelot gives her a look. “It’s bad that they had to resort to fighting, yes. Women aren’t meant to be fighters, Gwen.”

She doesn’t notice her hand clenching. “Of course,” she answers.

She knows that Lancelot means no harm by his words. As a knight, he sees it as a man’s duty to protect, honour and serve. In his eyes, men are meant to protect their women. She wonders if it occurs to him that women sometimes need to be more than a damsel in distress.

She had briefly toyed with the idea of telling Lancelot about getting a sword, but his words had reaffirmed her belief that he wouldn’t understand and part of her was slightly disappointed.

Gwen looks at her hand. “I am feeling tired, Lancelot. I think I will retire for bed.”

“Of course,” he says. He leans over and places a sound kiss against her temple. “Sweet dreams, Guinevere.”

“You too, Lancelot.”

***

Never in his wildest dreams did he ever picture this scene; he, the blacksmith’s son, sword fighting with the Princess of Camelot.

Stranger things have happened, Arthur thinks.

The unusual scenario and the close proximity is causing havoc with his brain and Arthur knows that if her father found out about the degree of thoughts running through his head, he’d have him thrown in the dungeons and would throw away the key. Arthur concedes that it’s a good thing that the king is in no way a telepath. And yet, it doesn’t stop Merlin’s voice sounding in his head: You can look but you can’t touch...

It’s been almost a month since he agreed to help her learn how to swordfight when they are first able to meet up. With Lancelot and his knights away on duty and her responsibilities as a princess, there was never a spare moment for her to meet him. But that month had passed by quickly and now she is standing with him in the woods not far from his house, dressed in a brown smock and black trousers, wielding a sword in her hands and trying her best not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

“Am I holding this right?” she questions, a look of uncertainty on her face.

He grins and shakes his head and she rolls her eyes as he moves over to her; placing his hands over hers and moving them to the correct position, trying not to linger. Merlin’s voice repeats in his head again: you can look but you can’t touch ... And he thinks, sod that!

“Better,” he states as he lets go of her grasp.

She listens intently as he tells her the basics. Stand with your feet shoulder-wide apart ... Keep your posture straight ... Always be aware of your surroundings ... Make sure you protect yourself ... Assess your opponent, search for weaknesses ... And always, always keep your weapon at the ready.

She grasps these all easily and she looks on at him impatiently, as if wanting to know something more interesting.

So he swaps her sword for fighting sticks, allowing her the chance to actually fight without having to fear either of them getting hurt.

Their sticks clang together as he talks her through the moves: Keep your eyes on your opponent, anticipate each move, but let your movements guide you.

He’s not really sure what he expected from Gwen: for her to be a delicate princess or a strong warrior-type, but the reality is that her fighting is somewhere in between. She’s a quick learner and given the right conditions, she has the potential to be a brilliant fighter. She also has a surprising amount of feistiness and he’s careful not to be too soft on her lest it vexed her.

They keep their combat up without breaking it and he watches her as she concentrates intently. He can tell that it’s exerting for her and that she’s not used to using her upper arm muscles so much. Her cheeks are flushed and the hair from her bun has begun to fall into her face, but he can see that she’s enjoying herself.

They finally stop sparring when, in her tiredness, a gentle parry by him sends her flying to the ground. She laughs and he extends his hand out to her, but she shakes her head, motioning instead for him to come and join her. He smiles and sits down on the ground beside her and for a moment the two of them relax and stare up at the trees.

“Did you enjoy yourself, my lady?” he inquires.

She looks him in the eyes. “This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

“I’m glad,” he tells her.

“So how long have you been doing this for?” she asks, her hand gesturing around.

“What, sitting on the ground of the woods?” he teases.

“No. Sword fighting.”

He thinks for a moment. “I think I’ve always known how. My father would always wield around the weapons he made and sometimes when he thought I was sleeping, he would take out his own sword and practise the moves he learnt as a knight. I must have memorised every move.”

She looks confused. “Your father was a knight?”

“Before I was born, yes. He was a very good knight, one of Camelot’s finest.” He feels uncomfortable talking about it and hopes that she can tell by the tone of his voice.

She changes the subject. “So, do you think I’m good enough to send out to battle?”

He grins. “Give it time and I’m sure you can audition to be your own knight.”

She laughs. “My father will be jumping with joy at the prospect.” She looks up at the sky and sees that the sun is laying low. “I best be going. It’s getting late.” She stands up.

He stands up too. “Of course.”

“It was nice practising with you today. I hope to do it again soon.” She hands her sword to Arthur for him to look after.

He takes it. “I look forward to it.”

She smiles again. “Goodbye, Arthur,” she says as she made her way out of the woods.

“Goodbye Gwen,” he says to her retreating figure and stands there watching her go, grinning like an idiot.

***

She hasn’t felt this elated in a long time.

Maybe it’s the rush of adrenaline that sword fighting gives, or the feeling of roaming free in the outdoors or maybe being in the company of someone who isn’t afraid that she might break; whatever it is, it sends her soaring.

On the way back to the castle she stops to pick some wild flowers. She told her father that she would be out picking flowers and she’d feel guilty if she didn’t. Gwen doesn’t consider herself a liar of any sort. In fact, sometimes she’s possessed with the need to blurt out the truth, usually at inopportune moments. But this ... this one thing she will conceal. It will be her secret and the one thing she can keep as her own.

And she won’t allow herself to feel guilty over it.

When she gets back to the castle, she heads to the court where she finds her father in his throne, talking to an advisor. He looks tired and incredibly beaten but upon seeing Gwen, his face lights up and she rushes over to him.

“Father!” she greets, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Guinevere, what a pleasant surprise.” He looks at the flowers in her hands. “Are those for me?”

“As always,” she says, handing them over to him. “How has your day been, Father?”

He rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Tiring. There’s so much I still have to do.”

She sits down on the step beside his throne, just like she used to do when she was younger. “I wish I could take away some of your burden,” she tells him honestly.

He looks down at her and strokes her hair. “I wouldn’t wish this upon you ever, Guinevere.” He pauses for a moment. “There is, however, something I do need to discuss with you.” He motions for his men to leave the room and they do so.

Gwen looks on at her father intently.

“As you know, you will be coming of age soon.”

She nods. She is constantly reminded by this fact.

“And I know that we have never fully discussed it before, but women in your position are always expected to be married not long after.”

“Oh,” came her surprised reply. She’d always known that she would marry and suspected that it would be soon. She just always hoped that ‘soon’ would be when she was turning grey and had enjoyed her life as much as possible before she did so. “Does that mean you want to discuss who it is I should be marrying?”

They both know that that person will be Lancelot. Even when she was younger and he was not yet a knight, she always knew that she would marry him, even if nothing was ever said on the matter.

He shakes his head. “We will discuss it nearer the time. I just want you to know what is expected of you and that I wish that I could relieve you of your burden.”

She looks at him in confusion. “Father?”

He smiles. “Many noble men from all over the kingdom will hear of your coming of age and will be swarming to Camelot, vying for your hand. You’ll be fighting them off with sticks, Guinevere!”

She laughs. “Many women would die for that honour.”

“And what about you, Guinevere?”

“I just want to do what makes you happy, Father,” she tells him solemnly, placing a kiss on his hand.

***

After her talk with her father, Gwen heads to Morgana’s drawing room to chat to her about her father’s news, but is surprised to find Lancelot deep in conversation with her.

“Gwen!” Morgana greets with that familiar cat-like grin as she lounged in her chair. “Look who has been sitting here, waiting for you to return.”

Gwen glances at Lancelot, sitting in the chair beside her.

“Lancelot,” she says in surprise. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”

“I finished training early tonight. I thought I might surprise you and walk to your chambers.”

She smiles. “How thoughtful of you.”

“Where have you been, Gwen?” Morgana asks. “You’ve been gone a long while.”

Gwen shrugs. “I’ve been picking flowers and talking to my father. Not much.”

Morgana nods, not questioning her, but she can’t help but notice that Lancelot is looking suspiciously at her untidy form.

She stifles a yawn. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m feeling rather tired. I think I might retire to bed,” she tells them both.

Immediately Lancelot stands up to escort her and Morgana gives her a reassuring look.

“It s fine, Gwen. I will talk to you in the morning. Good night, my lady. Lancelot.”

“Thank you. And good night, Morgana,” Gwen says.

“Good night, Morgana,” Lancelot echoes.

Lancelot accompanies her to chambers, and during the while she questions him about his day. He tells her all about his knights and their progress and she listens intently. When they reach her door, he places a kiss on her cheek, and she smiles as she looks on at his retreating figure.

As she lay in bed that night, she thinks about the events of her day. She thinks about Arthur and the thrill of fighting with him. Those thoughts soon shift to the words her father spoke, and her heart fills with worry as she thinks about the troubles that lay ahead for her. Lastly, she thinks about Lancelot and the comfort his familiar presence brings. Like she has tried to before, she imagines what it might be like to be married to him, but can’t seem to conjure it up in her head.

When she falls asleep that night, she has a terrible nightmare that she is married to him, but instead of her being by his side, he keeps her in the top of the tower where she can’t escape.

Chapter Five

FIC: The Blacksmith's Son (Arthur/Gwen, PG, 3/?)

2009-10-31T00:10:06Z

The Blacksmith’s Son- Chapter Three

Chapter: 3/?
Rating: PG
Pairings: Arthur/Gwen, Gwen/Lancelot, Merlin/Arthur BFFness
Disclaimer/references: Merlin does not belong to me. If you squint and close and eye, you’ll see that some scenes and vaguely based on events in canon.

A/N: Thanks to lovedbyahero for beta-ing this for me. And thanks to everyone who has commented, they really put a smile on my face. Liberties have been taken with Lancelot (I envision him as kind of like Prince Charming from Shrek 2.)

It's taken me half an hour to post this (lj being rubbish). Am not impressed. Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter Two is here

***

He remembers clearly the first time he saw her.

He’d been running around the castle grounds, keeping his own company, when he’d fallen and hurt his knee, making it bleed. There was no one around to help him off the ground and instead he had lain there, sobbing; willing the pain to go.

And then she appears out of nowhere.

“Little boy, why are you crying?” a voice asks and when he lifts his head up, he finds himself looking at a girl in a frilly dress with flowers in her hair and mud all over.

He sniffs. “I hurt my knee.”

She cocks her head and looks at him with sympathy.

From her dress, she takes out two handkerchiefs; one for his bleeding knee and the other for his tears.

She comes to sit next to him, waiting for his tears to stop, which they do almost immediately.

“I hate it when I fall down and hurt myself,” she muses. “My mummy always used to kiss my hurts better.”

He sniffs again. “Does she not anymore?”

A sad look passes on her face. “I don’t have a mummy anymore.”

“Neither do I,” he tells her and the two of them smile; glad to be sharing a common ground.

“What’s your name?” she asks.

“Ar-thur,” he says, almost shyly.

She sticks her hand out and he takes it. “I’m Guin-a-vere.”

He gives her a puzzled look. “Gwen-ver?” he tries.

She grins and shakes her head and says it again. But he still can’t get it right.

“I like your flowers,” he tells her instead.

She takes off the daisy chain around her neck and hands it to him. “I like picking flowers,” she says to him, which he could have guessed from the bright-coloured ones in her hair. “They always make me feel happy.”

He looks down at the flower chain in his hand, not sure what to do with it.

“Keep it,” she tells him. “They’ll protect you from falling down again.”

“Really?” he asks, wide-eyed.

She nods.

“Wow.”

Suddenly a knight comes up to them.

“Lady Guinevere,” the knight says. “Your father is looking for you.”

The little girl sighs and stands up.

“It was nice talking to you, Ar-thur,” she says to him before following the knight and his eyes widen when he realises that, all along this girl had been a princess. Until then, he wasn’t even sure that she was real.

He watches her fade into the distance and all the while he holds the daisy chain tight in his hand.

Eight year-olds do not know what it means to fall in love but, at that moment, he comes as close as he ever could to doing so.

Time would go on and Guinevere would forget she met him and that she ever even knew his name. She would grow up and transform from that flower-picking girl to a lady in full bloom; the flowers in Arthur’s hand would die and he would eventually learn that nothing can prevent a person from falling and hurting themselves in any sense of the word.

But he would not trade the day he first met Guinevere for anything.

***

Gwen woke up to the sound of someone knocking on her door.

She sat up in her bed and it took a while for her to compose a coherent, “Come in.”

Lady Morgana enters her bedroom and is surprised to still see Gwen still in bed.

“Late night?” she inquires.

“You could say that,” Gwen said with a yawn. She had had yet another sleepless night.

Morgana walks over, perching at the end of the bed. “Thoughts of Sir Lancelot keeping you awake at night?” she asks with a smirk.

Gwen snorts. “Hardly,” she answers.

She is fond of the knight of course and she suspects that she adores him to some high level. But she has known him far too long for him to be on her mind constantly.

“Lancelot will be devastated,” Morgana muses and they both look each other and laugh.

Morgana is like a sister to her and has grown up practically so. Her parents had died when she was young and the king adopted her as his own, having been close to her father. Gwen believes that no one knows her better than Morgana and she tells her everything, that is, aside from still feeling unsettled from her kidnapping and her need to do something about it.

“So what are your plans for today?” Gwen asks.

Morgana shrugs. “Nothing to do with tapestry, that’s for sure.”

“Well, I’m going to go out and tend to the gardens. You can come if you want.”

Morgana wrinkles her nose at the prospect.

“We can gossip idly and you can tell me about all those knights you fancy,” Gwen says enticingly.

“That’s the most tempting offer I’ve had all day.”

And Gwen smiles and rushes out of bed to get ready.

***

Arthur is on his way back from seeing Merlin when he has the misfortune of seeing Lancelot.

Lancelot is making his way to the castle and Arthur mentally groans at the sight of him.

He’s actually surprised that Lancelot’s perfect walk didn’t call for time to stand still, didn’t call for it to appear like he’s walking in slow motion, or for the sun to bounce brilliantly off his immaculate hair, making him seem god-like. He half expects Lancelot to stop walking and to flick his hair back dramatically but he doesn’t and it’s almost disappointing.

He plans to walk pass him whilst resisting the urge to knock him over but this choice is immediately taken out of his hands when another passerby accidentally pushes him into the path of Lancelot, causing the knight to tumble over. He ends up stumbling as well but prevents himself from falling as well.

There’s a long, awkward pause then Lancelot gets up and glares angrily at Arthur.

“Watch where you’re going, you giant oaf!” he cries.

“I am so sorry,” Arthur replies, sarcasm dripping heavily from his voice. “Did I mess up your hair?”

Lancelot narrows his eyes, gauging the fact that Arthur was humouring him. “It’s not wise to cross my path,” he warns.

Arthur rolls his eyes. “I accidentally bumped into you, sire. I did not spend all night plotting to trip you up in the morning.” Not this time anyway, he thinks.

And Lancelot gives him a look that Arthur interprets as, Just get out of my sight, you riff-raff!

Before he could do so, however, a voice interrupts them.

“Lancelot!”

They both look in the direction of the voice, only to find Guinevere arm-in-arm with Morgana.

“I hope you’re playing nice,” she says to the knight.

Lancelot immediately straightens up and his features soften. “Of course, my lady. I wouldn’t do anything but.”

Which is a load of rubbish, but Arthur does not feel the need to voice this.

Instead, his cool blue eyes lock onto Guinevere’s and holds it for a moment longer than necessary, before going on his way.

***

“Who was that?” Morgana demands, the instant both Arthur and Lancelot have gone.

Gwen rolls her eyes, playfully. “That was the blacksmith’s son, Arthur.”

“Where has he been hiding all this time?” Morgana wonders.

“Away from your keen grasp, that’s for sure.”

“You make me sound like some kind of hussy,” Morgana muses, as they begin to head in the direction of the gardens.

“Well...” Gwen says teasingly and Morgana nudges her.

“He is handsome though,” Morgana continues. “It’s just a shame that he’s only a blacksmith.”

And Gwen wonders whether this should really matter.

***

When Merlin comes to visit Arthur later that day, Arthur has almost finished with Guinevere’s sword. It’s slightly smaller to the swords he’s used to making but then he’s never made a sword for a woman before. Of all the weapons he’s ever made, this one has been the most important and in his eyes, it has to be the best. This one is more in proportion for her smaller frame and he’s made sure that he’s paid attention to detail; carving intricate but powerful designs. On the handle he’s inscribed the words, May you stand when others fall, in hope that the words encapsulates the power of the sword.

But there’s one other thing he desires.

As soon as Merlin entered the workshop, he notices the sword and instantly picks it up to admire it.

“Wow!” he marvels. “This sword is amazing. Who’s it for?”

“Lady Guinevere.”

Merlin almost drops the sword. “You’re joking!”

Arthur shakes his head.

Merlin looks confused. “How come you’re making her one?”

“She asked me to make it for her and I agreed.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow. “She asked you?”

“Okay, she wanted my father but when she found out he wasn’t here, she said that I could do it. She came here because she doesn’t want anyone knowing she wants a sword.”

“I bet that made your year,” Merlin mutters. “What does she want a sword for?”

“Well, it’s certainly not to eat her dinner with.”

“Oh really?”

“She wants to learn how to use it.”

“I’ve never heard of a lady learning to sword fight.”

“That’s Guinevere for you. She’s not exactly conventional.”

Merlin nods and goes back to marvelling the sword and Arthur watches him.

“Merlin?” he suddenly asks.

“Yeah?”

“I need to ask you a favour.”

Merlin puts down the sword and looks at him. “What?” he asks, cautiously.

“I need you to put protection charms on this sword.”

Merlin’s jaw falls open. “What?”

“Merlin, you know that I would never, ever ask you to use your magic like this. I’ve never asked you to improve my weapons, or indeed I’ve never done anything that might abuse your powers. I just ask this one thing. Please?”

Merlin begins to shake his head. “Arthur, I can’t! You know what her father is like with magic. If he finds out that I’ve used magic on a sword that she’s not even supposed to have, you know there will be a price to pay!”

“I know the risks involved. I understand them, really I do. But she is going to use this sword and one day she might even find herself having to use it in a proper fight and if anything happened to her ...”

“You’d spend the rest of your life composing depressing ballads, I know. I get that you really like the girl, Arthur and that you want to do anything that will ensure her safety. But having this sword is her choice and I’m sure that she won’t ever have to use it in a fight.”

“But what if she does?”

“Then you’ll have to have faith that she can take care of herself.”

Arthur doesn’t say anything for a moment and instead focuses his gaze out the window. “I know that my interest in her is futile. She’s never going to go for someone like me. And it should matter. Somewhere along the lines, I should have given up my affections for her and focused on someone else. But I can’t. When I look at her, I see this amazing woman and I think, this is a woman Camelot is going to be proud to have as our queen. She is someone who cares about other people and really wants to make a difference. I can’t imagine her not getting that far.”

“You really have faith in her, don’t you?”

Arthur shrugs. “I see something in her, that’s all.”

It’s Merlin’s turn to fall silent as he thought things over. “Okay, fine.”

Arthur turns to look at him. “Okay, what?”

“I’ll do it.”

“You will?”

“I’m probably making the most stupid decision of my life, but I’ll do it. But only because I know if something bad does happen to her, I’m going to be the one who has to put up with your depressive moods for the rest of my life.”

Arthur grins. “Thank you,” he says sincerely.

Merlin steps towards the sword and Arthur watches as Merlin utters intangible phrase after phrase.

When he’s finally done, Merlin looks up at him. “I’ve added a spell so when Guinevere and only her uses the sword, the swords will make her movements more instinctive. There’s a spell that gives some foresight and makes her more aware if there’s surrounding danger. And lastly, if she’s in real danger, then her sword will light up and act as a beacon for you to find her. It’s not much, but it will help. And the magic I’ve used isn’t too obvious, so hopefully we won’t get found out.”

“Thank you, Merlin,” he says again. “I owe you one.”

“No, Arthur. You owe me many.”

***

She is the next person to walk through the door.

“Lady Guine- Gwen,” he greets. The name ‘Gwen’ still sounds foreign to him.

“Arthur,” she greets back. “How are you?”

He looks at her and notes that she has some flowers in her hair. He smiles; glad that that particular endearing trait of hers has not diminished.

“Very well. How are you?”

“Fine, thank you. I’ve had a lovely day.”

“Picking flowers, I see.”

She self-consciously touches the purple flowers in her hair. “I love to pick flowers,” she tells him.

But he already knows.

“I saw you talking to Lancelot today,” she pipes up.

“It wouldn’t call it talking. More like being scorned at and then dismissed. That Lancelot is a real charmer.”

She smiles. “Lancelot is nice enough. He’s just a lot less tolerant toward ...” but she didn’t finish her sentence.

Arthur raises his eyebrows. “Go on,” he coaxes her.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“You were going to say us ‘common people’.”

She blushes. “I didn’t mean to offend ...”

“It’s okay,” he cuts in. “It’s the truth, isn’t it? I have no illusions that I’m a nobleman.”

“Class always seems inconsequential to me.”

“Then you must be the only person who thinks so,” he says with another smile.

She smiles back.

“Your sword is ready,” he informs her, unwrapping it from the material he had stored it in.

She gasps when she sees it. “It’s beautiful,” she says, picking it up. She moves her hand down the blade and then back up to the inscription, where her fingers trace over the words. Lifting it up in the air, she gently swings it and is captivated by the way it moves.

“This is wonderful,” she says and he grins, glad of the news.

She hands him a bag of gold and he fully expects her to leave and to walk out of his life as quickly as she stepped in, but instead she hovers about.

“I saw you practising with your sword the other day,” she says to him.

He immediately feels himself blanching. He never hoped to be caught.

“You’re exceptionally good,” she tells him and he relaxes slightly, glad not to be reprimanded.

She looks at him and hesitates. “Will you teach me?” she suddenly asks.

He looks at her in shock, not expecting this.

“I don’t have anyone I could ask to show me how. And seeing the way you practise, I thought that maybe I could ...”

“Yes,” he interrupts, a little too quickly. He clears his throat. “I mean, of course. I’d be honoured to show you.”

She beams and Arthur has to suppress the urge to pinch himself to convince himself that it’s all real.

Last week she didn’t even know his name and now he finds their lives beginning to intertwine in a way that he could have only dreamed of.

Chapter Four

FIC: The Blacksmith's Son (Arthur/Gwen, PG, 2/?)

2009-10-27T13:59:33Z

The Blacksmith’s Son- Chapter Two

Chapter: 2/?
Rating: PG
Pairings: Arthur/Gwen, Gwen/Lancelot, Merlin/Arthur BFFness
Disclaimer/references: Merlin does not belong to me. If you squint and close and eye, you’ll see that some scenes and vaguely based on events in canon.

lovedbyahero for beta-ing this for me.

Chapter One is here

***

Lancelot has won yet another tournament and, in honour of that, the King has decided to throw a party and somehow Merlin has roped Arthur into helping.

“Think of the free alcohol,” he points out, although Arthur doesn’t feel like this is incentive enough.

With a scowl on his face, Arthur goes around making sure that all the food and drink is in order and when he’s done, he goes to stand near the door, with an eye on the lookout for Guinevere.

Lancelot is standing in the centre of the hall, giving some pompous speech about his achievement that seems to last forever and he appears to be lapping up the attention of the adoring women surrounding him.

“Look at him!” Arthur mutters bitterly to Merlin, as some of the alcohol they’ve consumed starts to set in. “Smug bastard.”

“He is nauseating,” Merlin agrees.

“It’s the smirk,” Arthur begins.

“And the arrogance,” Merlin adds.

“And his ridiculous hair!”

“Really? I quite like his hair. I wish mine was more like his.” Merlin touches his hair in thought and Arthur rolls his eyes.

“You would,” he muses.

“Let’s just face it, Arthur, we’re just jealous of him because we can’t compare to the likes of him.” And Arthur knows that the alcohol really must be having an effect if their conversation is stooping this low.

Arthur ponders this. “No, I’m pretty sure I dislike him because he’s a roundabout prat.”

“That too.”

That train of thought dissolves immediately when Lady Guinevere enters the room and, just like that, time stands still. Dressed in a one-shouldered, long, flowing cream-coloured dress and moving with the grace of a swan, she looks stunning. She gives a smile to everyone in the room and there’s a certain glint in her eyes that makes everyone lean towards her instinctively. Arthur watches on, entranced.

“Camelot to Arthur,” a voice calls out beside him. “Your jaw is hanging open,” Merlin informs him.

And just like that, time seems to speed up again.

Arthur emits a sigh and observes as Guinevere goes up to Lancelot and curtseys before him. In return, he kisses her hand and Arthur suppresses the feeling of jealousy.

Everyone in Camelot knows that the princess will one day marry Lancelot. There hadn’t been an official announcement of their betrothal, but the king holds the knight in such high esteem that he couldn’t have loved him more if he was his own son. The marriage of the pair seemed obvious and there was no doubt that Lancelot was the best suitor for Guinevere around, much to the dismay of possibly every male in the kingdom.

“Of all the people you had to fall for, you had to go for the unattainable one,” Merlin muses, as if he could read Arthur’s thoughts.

“It’s because she’s worth it, Merlin. I know she is,” he answers back and he doesn’t need alcohol in his blood to convince him that this is true.

***

A few days later, Lady Guinevere and Lady Morgana are on their annual pilgrimage to Morgana’s father’s grave, when they are ambushed by bandits.

In the ensuing fight, the men who had accompanied them are seriously hurt and the bandits end up kidnapping Guinevere; Morgana being able to make a lucky escape to inform the king.

When the news spreads that the princess has gone missing, Arthur can’t stop worrying for her safety, wishing desperately that there was something he could do. But there was nothing.

Naturally, Lancelot sets off to find Guinevere and two days later he brings back a very dishevelled and startled princess.

The whole of Camelot are ecstatic, of course. For their princess to be kidnapped and then rescued by their beloved knight makes for the kind of story fairytales are made of. Everyone cheers and celebrates and Arthur wonders if he’s the only one to think the knight a giant ponce.

***

Two weeks later, Arthur is hard at work in the workshop. He’s covered in stains and his red tunic top feels disgusting against his sweaty skin but none of that registers as he works on the sword in his hand.

His hammer bangs against the hot iron and he bends it into shape; picturing the final product that the sword will become.

Behind him, the sound of the door opens.

“Merlin, I’m busy,” he says, without turning around.

Someone clears their throat behind him and he immediately realises that the person who has just entered the workshop is definitely not Merlin.

Turning around, he’s incredibly surprised to find Lady Guinevere standing before him and he drops the hammer in his hand to the floor, barely missing his foot.

“My lady,” he greets in surprise.

She gives a slight nod and smiles, uncertainly. “I’m here to see Uther Pendragon,” she tells him, her gaze shifting to the fallen hammer.

His eyes widen slightly. “My father is away on business. He will not be back for a few days,” and he’s surprised at how calm his voice sounds, despite feeling anything but.

“Oh.” She looks slightly disappointed.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” he inquires, in hope that she will stay a little longer.

“Only if you know how to make a weapon,” she replies.

He gestures to the sword on the table and she smiles when she sees it.

“Of course you do,” she muses out loud with a slight roll of her eyes. “I’m after a sword,” she informs him.

“For Sir Lancelot?” he asks, casually.

She shakes her head. Surprising him again, she answers, “For me.”

“Oh.”

He does not know much about the noble people, but he’s fairly certain that they would never let a lady, let alone a princess, have her own sword. However, he does not voice such thoughts. It’s not his business to do so.

“I’ve come here because I do not want my father finding out what I’m after and rumour has it that your father makes the best weapons in Camelot.”

“Indeed he does. I can let him know that you’re after a sword when he comes back.” He hesitates for a moment before saying, “Of course, if you want, I could make you a sword. I’m not my father...but I know how to make a good weapon.”

She looks at him intently and studies his face. “I’m sure you do.” She gives another smile, before waiting a moment to say, “I will be honoured if you make me a sword.”

He beams at her, delighted and the two of them talk for a few minutes about the specifications.

When they’re done, he doesn’t realise that he’s looking at her rather curiously until she shifts uncomfortably under his gaze.

“I want to learn how to fight,” she finally says in response to his unspoken question. “I don’t want to be just a helpless princess anymore.”

Her confession surprises him and he finds himself admiring her a little more. He can see in her eyes that she is still shaken by her kidnapping and for a moment he worries that he is the only one who sees it.

“That’s very courageous of you,” he says in reply.

“Nobody knows that I’m doing this. They think that I have merely gone to see the physician.”

He holds her gaze. “Your secret is safe with me. You have my word.”

“Thank you.” A look of concern crosses her face. “I’m sorry, I’ve been extremely rude. I haven’t even asked you your name.”

He tries to hide his surprise that she would want to know. “Arthur. Arthur Pendragon.”

“Arthur,” she repeats to herself. “I am Guinevere,” she says, even though the two of them both know that everybody knows her name. “But you may call me Gwen.”

“Gwen,” he utters silently. The name feels strange on his lips.

“Your sword will be ready in a week or two,” he tells her.

She gives another gracious smile; something she never seems to be short on. “I will call back in a week.”

“I look forward to it, my lady.”

She gives a slight bow of her head and turns to leave the shop.

When she’s gone, he can’t stop the grin from forming on his face.

***

For another night running, she can’t seem to sleep.

When she does, the nightmares begin and end with her waking up gasping for breath; fear clutching at her heart. Since her kidnapping, she lives in terror that they might come back for her and it is something she can’t seem to shake. Everybody believes her to be okay when really she is anything but.

Restless, she moves to stand by her window. Looking out, she is surprised to find the courtyard not empty.

Down below on the ground where the knights usually train, a lone man stands with a sword in his hand. She immediately recognises the man as Arthur and watches him as he wields his sword; the moonlight dancing off his sword and hair.

He fights as if it’s an incredible dance, she thinks and it’s true. Arthur’s moves are instinctive, accurate and magnificent all at once and are enough to put any of the knights to shame.

Before today, she’d never paid much attention to him, only vaguely recognising him as the physician’s assistant’s friend. She didn’t expect him to be a fighter and certainly didn’t expect him to train at such late an hour.

Does he train here nightly? She wonders and wonders further still how she could have been so oblivious to it. Lancelot will have a fit if he finds out that Arthur practises out here, she thinks, before vowing not to utter a word.

Instead, she continues to watch him; his movements soothing her unsettled soul.

Chap Three

FIC: The Blacksmith's Son (Arthur/Gwen, PG, 1/?)

2009-10-25T22:55:45Z

The Blacksmith’s Son

Chapter: 1/?
Rating: PG
Pairing: Arthur/Gwen, Gwen/Lancelot and Arthur/Merlin BFF-ness
Disclaimer: BBC owns Merlin.
Summary: He has the hands of a blacksmith but a heart of a prince- if only she could see that. AU fic, in which Arthur is the blacksmith’s son, Gwen a princess and Lancelot the enviable (but smarmy) knight.

Author's Note: Thanks to lovedbyahero for her help. Writing Arthur as a peasant was hard to do whilst at the same time trying to retain his character, but hopefully it works. Also, even though I love Lancelot, this is not a Lancelot-friendly fic. Much. Also, the derivations of his name weren't thought of by me.

***

She lives in a castle that might as well be in the sky.

He lives in a house barely bigger than a shed, and his life is so far removed from hers, that she could be the sun and all he’d be is solid ground.

But he finds her fascinating.

He’s watched her since he was a boy. Seen her as she’s transformed from a shy little princess into a fully fledged woman set to be queen. She’s kind and graceful, but strong and intelligent too. And he can’t take his eyes off her.

Yet she never notices him when he passes her in the corridor with a smile on his face. She never sees him when he stands in the sidelines of the knights’ tournaments; ready to replace the knights’ weapons, but eyes constantly trained on her. She never observes him when she dances in court with other men; him wishing that he could be the one dances the night away with.

To her, he will always only be a peasant boy that she will never get the chance of fully seeing.

But to him, he will notice her always.

***

Her heart belongs to Sir Lancelot, the greatest knight in Camelot.

He watches from the edge of the stands as Lancelot takes part in yet another tournament. Guinevere doesn’t take her eyes off him, of course, and nor does the array of giggly girls seated in the front, hoping that Lancelot would cast a glance at them.

“Lanceahot,” a voice pipes up beside him.

Arthur turns to face his friend Merlin, who joins him at his side. “What?” he says, frowning.

“Lanceahot,” Merlin reiterates. “That’s what the fans are calling him. Lanceahot... makes the girls swoon a lot,” he muses.

Arthur gives him a look and raises an eyebrow. “Thanks, Merlin, for that riveting piece of information.” He thinks for a moment. “I’d rather call him Pratalot.”

Merlin snorted. “You would.”

They both turn their gazes on the knight, who is deep in combat with another knight.

He’s good, Arthur thinks, watching the graceful way Lancelot handles the sword. He moves like a warrior and carries a certain grace about him that makes him seem like he was partaking in an ancient dance, rather than combat. But Arthur couldn’t help but feel that there was something missing; a certain refinement to his moves. I could do better, he thinks almost wistfully. He’s not a knight or a nobleman, but life as the blacksmith’s son has taught him a thing or two about weapons. He can wield a sword faster than a flash of lightning; manipulate his mace with deadly precision and fire an arrow with extreme accuracy. He may never be deserved the honour of fighting alongside the knights of Camelot, but there’s a warrior in him that refuses to be restricted by class and status.

He lets out a sigh and trains his gaze on Guinevere. Her eyes follow Lancelot’s every move, and she bites her nails in trepidation. For a moment, he allows himself to imagine that he is the knight fighting for her honour, and she is the one looking on at him with worry.

“She’s way out of your league,” Merlin reminds him, as he seems at wont to do lately.

Arthur snaps out of his reverie and scowls at Merlin. “I’m allowed to look, aren’t I?”

Merlin shrugs. “I don’t know. Lanceypants could have you arrested.”

Arthur snorts. “I’m sure he would if he knew that I existed.”

“Then it’s a good thing he doesn’t know.” Merlin pauses and thinks for a moment. “You know, I could curse him. Turn his ears into carrots or shorten his legs. Try and even out the competition for you,” he suggests.

Arthur pretends to consider this. Ever since he discovered that his friend wasn’t just a physician’s assistant, the two of them would joke about Merlin’s powers and what he could do. Well, mostly joke anyway.

“And you think that shortening his legs will make him less appealing to Guinevere?”

“If I make him about three feet tall I’m sure it would reduce it somewhat, yes.”

“It’s tempting Merlin. No, really, it is.”

They both fall into a pensive silence.

“Even if I so much as garner her attention, what do I have to offer her? A shack for a house and a pathetic excuse for a blacksmith’s workshop,” Arthur suddenly says.

“And don’t forget great biceps,” Merlin quips and then looks sheepish when Arthur throws him another look. “Sorry,” he says. “You have... integrity and honour and all that other fancy stuff. Wealth and status does not mean everything.”

But Arthur can’t help but think it does.

***

Before Arthur was born, his father used to be a respected knight of Camelot. In his prime, Uther fought many great battles and won plenty of tournaments. His status led him to meet the Lady Igraine, who would become his future wife and Arthur’s mother. Uther loved her more than anything in the world, more than fighting and more than being a knight. When Igraine died during childbirth, Uther sank into despair and depression, and he became unsalvageable. King Thomas had no choice but to strip him of his knighthood, being no longer able to trust him. In turn, Uther lost his nobility, and in doing so, lost everything, and had to start again from scratch. Picking up the broken pieces of his life and having to bring up a newborn son on his own was tough, but he knew his wife would not have wanted this behaviour. So he became a blacksmith, and strived to become the best Camelot had ever seen.

A part of Arthur would always despair at the life that could have been, and it took him a long time to understand why his father had allowed himself to fall as he done. Falling in love with Guinevere made him eventually realise the effect that love could have on a person, and whilst Arthur might be angry some days at the hand fate had dealt them, he could not be angry at his father to succumbing to such a destiny.

Wealth and status could mean everything: power, prestige...and her.

Sometimes it was a struggle to remember that there were more important things in life.

***

He spends his days in the workshop, lost in a world of fine-crafted weapons, envisioning a scene where his weapons are the one thing that stops a group of knights from losing in a battle.

Now and then, Merlin would pop in and talk to him when he had finished Gaius’ chores, despite the fact that Merlin hated the workshop for being too hot.

Merlin would sit and chat and tell him about the adventures he had got up to whilst doing his chores and Arthur would work and listen, smiling over the fact that only Merlin could make a simple errand such as delivering medicine end in disaster. Every so often Merlin would tell Arthur to stop working and Arthur would quip back that Merlin only wanted him to stop because he was jealous of the muscles his job gave him. Merlin would scowl and pretend to curse him before going off on his next errand; always leaving a smile on Arthur’s face.

Arthur and Merlin were as different as night and day. One was stocky and fair, the other tall and dark. They had different outlooks on life, and certainly different destinies. Merlin was destined for great things, Arthur knew. With his powers, how could he not be? But Arthur had no distinction; nothing to set him apart. He would only always be just a blacksmith. And he wanted more than that life.

***

He is walking to the castle when he spots her high above in her tower.

He stops what he’s doing and simply stares at her.

She’s looking out the window, with a faraway look in her eyes and a glimmer of wistfulness. Her hair is done up in an elaborate twist and the colour of her dress sets of the warm brown hue in her eyes.

If anyone is meant to be a princess, he thinks, it’s her.

The princess lets out a sigh and her gaze shifts, before landing on Arthur.

Arthur’s eyes widen in surprise when he realises that he’s been busted, but before he can move, she smiles at him.

Shocked, he manages to smile back, and for a moment they share a look; her smile drawing their two worlds together, and allowing him to forget his burdens. But this is immediately broken when the Lady Morgana comes up beside Guinevere and leads her away, leaving Arthur standing down below; reeling from the moment.

This might be the closest he’d ever get to her.

Chap Two

FIC: Look After You What-If (P/T PG)

2009-10-22T22:08:52Z

Look After You What-If

Summary:A what-if of Look After You. Tom turned into a lizard and kidnapped B'Elanna instead of Kathryn, and together in Sickbay they deal with the aftermath.
Rating: PG

A/N: This idea came about because a friend had rather hoped that Tom would have taken B’Elanna instead of the Captain in Look After You. So instead, I wrote a ‘What-If’ he had taken her, and this one-shot looks at the three days they spend in Sickbay together. It’s mostly a dialogue fic, and I tried to make it humorous instead of going for the serious side, and hope they’re not too out of character and that it’s at least vaguely funny. I hope you enjoy!

***

After performing a check-up, the Doctor finally left B’Elanna and Tom alone together in Sickbay, where they sat on opposite biobeds.

The two of them didn’t say anything for a while; instead, awkward glances and nervous looks were exchanged.

Finally, Tom cleared his throat. “So... I’m sorry for escaping from confinement and kidnapping you.”

B’Elanna puckered her lips. “That’s okay. At least I got to get out of Engineering for a few hours.”

Tom gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s a great consolation.”

B’Elanna gave a nervous laugh back, and they immediately fell into silence again.

A few minutes later...

“I guess we can cross out having kids on the ‘Things we will never do, ever’ list,” B’Elanna mused. “I just never thought that I would give birth to those lizard things. And especially not with you. Although, come to think of it, how do I know I was the one to give birth? For all I know, it was you. The males of tomorrow might have ovaries...”

Tom emitted another nervous laugh that was on the wrong side of delirium.

They lapsed into silence once more.

An hour later...

“I’m feeling a bit sick,” Tom admitted.

“I would too if I had just died, come back to life, turned into a reptile thing, kidnapped a friend and then spawned weird creatures with them. As it is, I’m just freaked out.” B’Elanna was fully aware that she was babbling, but couldn’t seem to stop herself.

“And I think I’m going to throw up,” Tom said, rushing off.

A few minutes later...

“Tom? Are you okay?”

Tom sat back down on the biobed. “I think I just threw up something that might have once been a bug.”

“...”

“Oh.”

An hour later...

“So do you remember being a...you know.”

“No,” B’Elanna answered a little bit too quickly.

“Good. Me neither.”

There was a pause.

“So you don’t remember us- you know...mating?” Tom asked.

B’Elanna squirmed. “Not really.”

“You mean, the best few minutes of your reptile life and you don’t remember it?” Tom scoffed.

B’Elanna snorted. “More like seconds, Tom. And don’t count yourself so lucky.”

Another hour later...

“Do you think we should have just left them there?”

“Left who there?”

B’Elanna gave Tom a look, but didn’t answer.

A few minutes later...

“Do you think they’ll survive on that planet?” B’Elanna asked.

Tom shrugged.

“I feel a bit bad, like maybe we should go back and get them,” B’Elanna carried on. The babbling was back. “Do you think if we got them, they’d turn into humans? What would they look like? Would we have to bring them up? Do you think we’d get new quarters because mine isn’t even that big...” B’Elanna was starting to become hysterical.

Tom just looked at her with wide eyes.

A few more minutes later...

“B’Elanna?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s not talk about the baby thing again, okay?”

“Okay.”

Fifteen minutes later...

“Harry!” They both chorused.

“Wow, that’s the most enthusiastic greeting I’ve ever received,” Harry mused as he walked over to them. “Thought I’d pop over and see how you guys were doing. So...lizards hey?”

“I think it was more like a reptile,” Tom supplied.

“A lizard is a reptile,” B’Elanna informed him.

“But not the kind of reptile I want to be.”

“Oh, but you were.”

“Yeah, well so were you.”

“...”

“So...I take it you guys had fun. What exactly happened to you anyway?”

B’Elanna and Tom exchanged glances.

“Tom kidnapped me and took me to a planet and we mated and had wonderful lizard babies.”

“...”

“B’Elanna! We weren’t going to talk about this again, remember?”

“It’s Harry, Tom. He deserves to know.”

“What, that we had babies and left them on a planet?”

“You guys...you guys...” Harry began, trying to find his voice.

“...”

“Well done, B’Elanna. You made him faint.”

An hour later...

“Are you okay, Harry?” Tom asked, calling over to the other biobed across the room.

“I’m fine,” he replied weakly. “I’m just kind of shocked, you know?”

“Tell me about it,” B’Elanna drawled.

“Does that constitute as cheating on Sue?” Harry wondered.

B’Elanna cast Tom an awkward glance.

Tom shrugged.

“I think after all this Tom, you at least owe B’Elanna breakfast.”

“...”

“It wasn’t like that, Harry,” Tom finally said.

Harry laughed.

The next day...

“Morning, B’Elanna.”

B’Elanna avoided Tom’s gaze, having watched him sleep the last hour since she’d been awake. It felt strange to know that just over twenty-four hours earlier she had been grieving over him, whilst realising a lot of things she couldn’t hide anymore. While she had possibly envisioned a romance of some sort with Tom, turning into a lizard and doing weird lizard things wasn’t what she had in mind.

“Morning, Tom.”

Silence.

“So...another day stuck in here together, hey?”

“Yeah...”

“...”

“I had a dream where I thought of the idea of trying to reach Warp 10, and then decided it would be a great idea not to do it.”

“That must have been nice.”

“Yeah...”

A few minutes later...

“Are you glad that you managed to reach Warp 10?”

“Other than the dying bit and mutating thing, yeah, I guess.”

“Good.”

Silence again.

A few minutes later...

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you came back to life, even if you did look really weird and lost your tongue.”

“Me too. About the being alive thing, I mean. Not to the looking weird part.”

An hour later...

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“How come you kidnapped me?”

“Because I was overcome by strong reptilian mating urges and you were the nearest female in my vicinity.”

“Oh.”

“That was just a joke, B’Elanna. At least, I think it is...”

They both laughed nervously together.

Another hour later...

Tom returned from an interesting talk about nothing in particular with the Doctor.

“Kes just told me that you said some pretty interesting things when you were whacked out.”

“Oh she did, did she?” Tom threw a glare in the direction of Kes.

“I hear that seventeen was a good age for you.”

Tom blanched.

“Is that all she told you?” Tom asked after a while.

“Other than your immense craving for pepperoni pizza, yeah...”

“She didn’t mention me talking about anyone else?”

“No.” B’Elanna looked at him. “Why, did you say something about someone?”

Tom gave another nervous laugh. “No...”

“If you say so.”

Another hour later...

“I think I have scales on my elbow,” B’Elanna announced.

“...”

A few minutes later...

“I think I have scales on my toes,” Tom announced.

B’Elanna leaned over to have a look. “Urgh. You do.”

“That’s a bit weird,” he mused.

“Yeah...”

An hour later...

“I wonder why you mutated into a reptile. I would have placed my rations on a mutant pig.”

“You would be so lucky, B’Elanna.”

“I know. Maybe next time.”

“...”

“That was a joke, Tom.”

“Good. Because if I did mutate and turn into a pig, I’d take you with me.”

“...”

“That was a joke, B’Elanna.”

“Oh. I knew that.”

Another hour later...

“I’m getting a bit bored being in here,” B’Elanna announced.

“Me too.”

“Do you think Harry is going to come and see us today?”

“I hope so.”

“Yeah.”

One more hour later...

“I’m really hungry,” Tom announced.

“What, are you having some ‘immense craving’ for pepperoni pizza?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Well, the Doctor says we have to live off that disgusting shake thing for now.”

“That’s not food!”

“You’re telling me.”

A few minutes later...

“I never got why you always replicate pizzas in a box. You can get them without the box, you know.”

“They taste better if they’re in the box.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

An hour later...

“I really should be in Engineering right now,” B’Elanna mused.

“I did tell you I was sorry.”

“Yeah? Well you should be. I’m going crazy in here.”

Another hour later...

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m actually kind of glad you chose me to – you know... It was nice to be thought of.”

“Yeah. I can only assume that you were really good company. And hey, at least I didn’t choose the Captain!”

“...”

“That would have been weird,” B’Elanna said.

“Tell me about it.”

Another hour later...

“B’Elanna?”

“...”

“B’Elanna?”

“...”

“Oh, you’re sleeping. And it’s only the afternoon. Great.”

The next day...

“Well, the Doc says we can go in a couple of hours,” Tom announced.

“Thank God!”

“I know. I never want to spend another day in here again.”

B’Elanna snorted. “I’ll bet my month’s rations that you’ll be here again within a week.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re on.”

Half an hour later...

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“It was nice working with you on this project. I’ve missed spending time with you.”

Tom looked at B’Elanna intently. “I’ve missed spending time with you, too.”

They exchanged smiles.

Half an hour later...

“B’Elanna?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you were the one I spent the last three days with.”

B’Elanna cast him an appreciative glance. “Me too, Tom.”

An hour later...

“So... we’re free to go,” Tom said.

“Yeah.”

“What’s your first plan in honour of your freedom?”

“I guess I’ll go to work.”

“Work?”

“Well, yeah...”

“...”

“What do you propose I do?”

“B’Elanna, I’m going to replicate a pepperoni pizza and a few beers, and celebrate being human again.”

“Oh.”

“You can join me if you like.”

“Don’t you want to spend time with Sue?”

“She wouldn’t understand. It’s strictly a human-lizard-human thing. She can’t celebrate if she hasn’t been there, you know?”

“I guess we have been through a lot together.”

“Yeah.”

“After all, we have had babies together.”

“...”

“B’Elanna?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s still not funny.”

“If you say so.”

“...”

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“Is this going to be one of those things where as soon as we step out of Sickbay, we never talk about this again?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Okay. Well, I remember being a lizard.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“I remember who initiated the mating thing.”

“Oh.”

B’Elanna stepped out of Sickbay, and Tom followed suit.

They looked at each other.

“So, we’re never talking about this again?” Tom confirmed.

“Nope.”

“Okay...”

“...”

“So...pepperoni pizza..."

“Pepperoni pizza sounds good,” B’Elanna agreed.

FIC: Look After You Chapter 19 (P/T)

2009-10-22T22:01:58Z

Look After You- Chapter 19

Rating: R
Summary: Tom looks forward to settling back to life on Voyager, but finds out that things aren't that simple. References to Dreadnought, Lifesigns and Investigations. There's also a what-if of chapter 18 found here

Chap 18

***

“Love till you hate. Jump till you break. Know that we all fall down,” One Republic, All Fall Down.
***

Tom sat on his couch, with his head in his hands.

Earlier on in the day, he had had a meeting with Captain Janeway and Tuvok. They had informed him that someone on the ship appeared to be a traitor, and they needed to fish them out. The trouble was, they wanted him to be the bait.

After everything he had done, after all the troubles he had gone through and overcome, he felt that this command made it all redundant. They might as well have thrown him into a pit full of snakes; the conclusion would be the same. He would have to lie not only to his friends, but to everyone, making them believe that he was unhappy on Voyager and wanted to leave. But Tom wasn’t unhappy; far from it. Saying no to the Captain’s request was out of the question. She knew that Tom would accept whatever she asked because of how much he felt he owed her. Apparently, he was the only one she trusted to do this, and the only one who could pull off such a feat.

He didn’t want to do this. He was tempted to feign an incurable illness just to get out of it. But he couldn’t. How was he going to carry this off? How was he going to survive the next couple of months like this? He wasn’t a liar anymore. And he certainly had more to care about than anything he ever felt he had. Yet he was about to throw it all away, just for a mission. The Captain had promised he’d be fully pardoned afterwards. But the mission would be difficult, and he had no idea whether he’d make it back alive.

He rubbed his eyes warily.

He thought he’d put that particular facet of lying and deceit into retirement, but apparently that wasn’t to be. He would spend his time being unruly and unpredictable, and it hurt knowing that B’Elanna would see that side to him again, surely proving some reserved qualms she had about him right. And Harry…he would be shown the reason why he really shouldn’t have befriended him, and this time it wouldn’t be because of an alternate lifetime.

And that hurt more than anything.

He would spend the next two months on Voyager acting like a complete bastard, and he might never get the chance to tell his two best friends why.

***

There was no guide on how to alienate friends and close ones. But Tom didn’t need one. He’d been an expert on it once, and though rusty, he could do it again.

The first step was to break it off with Susan.

He knew that if he wanted this plan to work, he had to cut off everybody. And it started with Susan. He knew that she would never break it off with him, and sensed that there was a level of adoration for him. Though touched, he knew that the relationship would have run its course eventually; he just didn’t expect it to be so soon.

“I’m bored of this,” he told her, trying not to show any emotion on his face.

Sue’s face crumpled. “But why?” she demanded.

“Because this just isn’t fun anymore,” he drawled. “I’m sick of just seeing one person, Sue. I’m still young, and I need to have some fun. And being tied down with you…well, that’s not going to happen, is it?”

He watched as a distraught look passed over her face. His heart clenched; she didn’t deserve this behaviour from him, no one did.

She slapped him.

“I can’t believe you!” she cried. “After all those rumours about you, I gave you a chance. But I guess they were all right in the end, weren’t they?”

He gave her a shrug, and she stormed off while he stood rooted to the spot, numbness washing over him.

One down, he thought. And many more to go.

***

Once he’d got the ball rolling, it didn’t seem to want to stop. Not that doing any of this came easy. In fact, he felt like he was putting on a performance, and hoping that it was bad enough that someone might see through it.

Putting on a fixed betting pool was the next step. He knew that his behaviour was upsetting Harry. They had betted on things before, of course, but that had all been in jest. He sensed that Harry could tell that Tom was setting not only him up, but everyone else who participated too.

After Chakotay had busted him, Harry had pulled him to the side.

“Tom, what’s gotten in to you? You’re acting like a fool.”

Tom had merely shrugged. “I’m just acting like myself, Harry.”

“I know you, Tom, and this isn’t ‘yourself’.”

Tom had given him a condescending look. “This is the way I’ve always been. If you don’t like it, then go.”

Harry had given him a dark look in return and walked off.

“I told you that you shouldn’t have become friends with me,” Tom hollered after him.

He stood by the pool table, dejected. And another one bites the dust.

He only hoped Harry would forgive him later.

***

Harry gave him space after that. Harry wasn’t a fool and he knew there was more to Tom than he was letting on, but Tom wasn’t in the state of mind to divulge what was going on with him. At the moment, Tom was currently avoiding hanging around with him and B’Elanna, and from what he had heard, Tom was busy chasing after women again. As much as Harry thought Tom being with Sue had been a mistake, at least he had settled a bit. Now it seemed he was back to his former self, with a one track mind. He’d give him a few days, and try to get to the bottom of it. He knew that no matter what Tom said or did, there was no way he would revert back to his former self without a reason. He just hoped it was a good one.

***

“No Tom again?” B’Elanna asked, as she joined Harry for dinner in his quarters.

Harry shrugged. “God knows what Tom is up to. But he’s starting to live up to all those rumours that were spread about his past life.”

“Do you think he’s acting this way because he broke up with Sue?”

He shrugged again. “I’m not sure. I heard Sue telling Jenny that Tom broke up with her in an uncharacteristically cold manner. And apparently he’s hooking up with all these random women. Even before he dated Sue, he was never this…active.”

B’Elanna frowned. “Then what? I have no idea why else he’s acting like this. Unless it has something to do with the Warp 10 thing. Maybe it messed up his mentality. I’d be pretty messed up too, if I had mated with the Captain.” She couldn’t deny that Tom mating with the Captain was weird. Not that she begrudged the Captain of having that honour. B’Elanna certainly didn’t want to be the one turning to a reptile and having lizard babies with Tom anytime soon.

“Or maybe when he was a lizard, he got infected by a parasite, and the parasite took over his brain and ate his personality.”

“That would explain his lapse in presentation,” B’Elanna mused. “He would most certainly have to be possessed by someone before he dares leave his room with messy hair.”

“Or maybe Tom mating with the Captain is actually an indication that he has deep rooted feelings for her, and now he’s feeling awkward about having her babies. I’m not sure he wanted it to go that far.”

B’Elanna laughed. “He did blush every time he saw her afterwards. But lately, he’s been acting funny around her too.”

“Maybe he finally told her that he was deeply and passionately in love with her and she rejected him. I don’t think he handles rejection well.”

B’Elanna snorted. “Or perhaps he’s decided he likes living as a reptile better. In fact, maybe he’s retained the reptilian characteristics and that’s why he’s acting the way he is.”

“Did you ever ask yourself why he turned into a lizard in the first place? It’s kind of weird, don’t you think? When you think ‘mutation’ you think human with super abilities and three eyes, not regressing and turning back into some reptile.”

“Well it is Tom,” B’Elanna pointed out. “The rules of science need not apply.”

“Nor the rules of logic,” Harry mused. “If he’s still acting like this in a week, maybe we should accost him.”

***

For yet another evening, Tom sat in his quarters by himself. He was reluctant to spend time with Harry and B’Elanna, in case he caused them further grief. He knew he wouldn’t be allowed to keep his guard up around them, and no doubt they’d try and question what was wrong with him. And he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep the truth from them if they asked. He also knew that spending time with them and having to lie through his teeth would not only be painful to them, but extremely painful for him, and he wanted to spare them that at least.

He spread the rumour himself about him cavorting with an array of women. It wasn’t even slightly true. But he had to paint a picture the Captain wanted them to see, and this was just another paint stroke in the mess of the painting that was this ordeal.

***

A week later, B’Elanna noticed Tom arriving late to the senior meeting, interrupting her while she was trying to explain about Dreadnought. His hair was in disarray and his clothes scruffy, and quite frankly he looked awful. And she knew that Tom was a stickler for punctuality and presentation. She cast him a look of concern as he sat down, but he ignored it.

Later, the Captain set the two of them to work together.

Momentarily putting her concerns over Tom to the side, she told him the truth about Dreadnought, and how it was her fault, something that worried her greatly.

She watched as Tom’s eyes softened, and a familiar look she hadn’t seen for a while shone through.

“You took a risk,” he told her gently. “You were thinking like a Maquis. That was a whole different life.”

B’Elanna sighed. “Tell me about it.”

“You know, I’ve been surprised at how well you’ve been able to fit in here. A little envious, actually.”

She looked at him in confusion. “What are you talking about? You’ve settled in here better than I have!”

He shook his head. “No, I haven’t, not really anyway. I still feel that I’m struggling to gain everyone’s approval.”

There was some truth in his statement. Some people still didn’t get Tom; but the majority had accepted him, even if the process had been slow.

B’Elanna wasn’t sure what to say to that. “The only reason I’ve been able to fit so well here is because of you and Harry,” she said truthfully. She frowned. “Tom, what’s been going on lately?”

“Going on? How?”

She gestured a hand at his dishevelled appearance. “You look like you’ve been attached to the back of a shuttle and flown through an ion storm. You’re turning up to meetings late. You’ve been gambling and apparently breaking a certain lieutenant’s heart. Not to mention fighting with another.”

“Lieutenant Rollins deserved it,” Tom said matter-of-factly.

B’Elanna rolled her eyes. “Joe probably claims I said the same about breaking his nose.”

Tom frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re acting like a jerk, and you should stop.”

Tom gave a disbelieving laugh. “Thanks!”

“Tom, I know there’s something going on with you. And I’m not sure whether it has something to do with your accident, or something else. But you don’t have to act like this. Harry and I are here for you, you know that, don’t you?”

For a brief moment something flashed across his face. Frustration mingled with despair.

“If there was, I wouldn’t tell you.” Despite his words suggesting otherwise, there was no malice or sarcasm in his voice, and his eyes seemed to be pleading with her not to question what, but at the same time, transmitting some kind of message to her. But she had no idea what he was trying to say.

***

Tom spent another evening in his quarters. This time, he sat in a corner of his room, with the lights off.

There was not one moment during this task that Tom felt that any of this was easy. In fact, as everyday passed, the acting was becoming harder.

Today when B’Elanna had questioned him, confusion written all over her face, he had almost given in. Why did this stupid mission matter anyway? And surely it wouldn’t affect things if B’Elanna and Harry knew…

But he knew telling them would be a mistake. He had told B’Elanna that he wouldn’t’ get into anymore perilous situations, and here he was walking straight into one. If he told her, she’d persuade him not to do it. And if the two of them knew, Tom wouldn’t be able to find the strength to leave; knowing that if he did, there was no guarantee he’d come back. No, it was better to turn them against him, so he wouldn’t mind leaving. In his mind he consoled himself with the fact that he was protecting them. From what, he didn’t know.

***

B’Elanna was determined to find out what was wrong with Tom. She knew him quite well now, and that haunted look is his eye was definitely a sign that something was amiss. What that something was, she had no clue. She was no investigator, and usually people acting funny wasn’t enough for her to question what was wrong, but Tom was her friend, and feelings for him or not, she still felt this strong urge to help him.

Just when she was going to start sleuthing, the Doctor called her to Sickbay, and what he had to say made her forget about Tom.

***

“You shoved Commander Chakotay?” Kes asked, from her position on the other side of the barrier of the Brig.

He grimaced. “I didn’t intend to. It just…sort of happened.”

Kes gave him a look of concern, a look he was growing used to seeing from his friends. She had heard that he had been placed in the Brig for attacking the Commander, and had managed to persuade Tuvok to let her see him. How she managed to do so, Tom had no idea, but Kes had this cunning ability to sweet talk people into doing what she wanted, something that made Tom proud.

“Tom,” she admonished. “This isn’t like you.”

He paced around in the small confines of the Brig. “Don’t you think I know that?” he practically shouted at her.

Kes winced at his tone, and his features softened.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

“That’s okay,” she replied, concern still emanating from her features.

He rubbed his face in frustration; the last few weeks finally catching up on him. All the jadedness he had been pretending to project was getting to him, and he could no longer tell whether those feelings were real or not. He began to suspect that it was the former, and he had no idea whether he was pretending to be extremely frustrated with being on Voyager, or whether the acting had stopped long ago. He was starting to break; the thoughts in his head a mass of incoherence and trouble.

“I’m just so fed up!” he cried. “You have no idea- no one has any idea how hard this has been for me. She asked me to do this, with no concern for my welfare, and I’m cracking Kes, I really am.”

She looked at him in confusion. “I don’t understand, Tom. Who’s making you do this?”

He ignored the question, still pacing. “No one knows how important winning Chakotay’s respect is to me.” He gave a bitter laugh. “When he first met me, he had the look in his eyes, you know? Like he believed that I really could help the Maquis. He’d regret it later; I made sure my behaviour made him believe so. But he talked me into it, and the look in his eyes dared me to find something better. Yet though he believed in me as a pilot, I knew he didn’t respect me as a person, and something about that made me want to earn his respect. And I may have lost any hope of that when I made it seem like I abandoned them, but I damn well earned it here on Voyager. And now she wants me to throw of all that away, for this… this.”

He was rambling, he knew, but he couldn’t help it anymore. Hell, he couldn’t think straight anymore.

Kes continued to look confused. She didn’t understand what Tom meant about him abandoning the Maquis. Though she knew he had been involved with them, he had never told her the full story. Yet she had sensed Tom’s respect for Chakotay, and knew how much Chakotay’s own respect for Tom meant to him, as if he were compensating for the lack of respect from his own father. But who was this ‘she’ Tom was talking about? Was it the Captain?

Kes got as close to the barrier that she could get.

“Tom, whatever or whoever is upsetting you, you don’t have to go through this alone.”

Tom sat down on the bench, and emitted another bitter laugh.

“Oh, believe me, I have wished that were so.”

“Talk to me, Tom,” she said, as softly as she could.

He got up, and walked over to her, noting the deep rooted worry in her eyes. These friends of his didn’t give up on him easily.

“Kes, have you ever had to do something you didn’t believe in, but had to because you were told to?”

She shook her head. She was only two years old, and she knew that time was against her. She never wanted to live a life of regrets, and tried hard to live by that rule. The first year of her life she’d tried so desperately to break away from the norm of her people’s lives, and had succeeded. She could have so easily been the person who did what she was told, either with or without question. But she chose not to be. She chose to break away, and that’s how she ended up on Voyager, where she’d gone from strength to strength.

“No,” she answered. “But I could have, if I hadn’t rebelled. Whatever it is, couldn’t you do the same?”

He smiled sadly. “That’s not an option. You see, the person who is telling me to do this, is someone I greatly admire, and I could never go against her wishes. Plus, someone has to do this, otherwise the whole ship will be in danger. I guess I’m the most expendable guy.”

He was aware that he was close to revealing the whole truth, but he didn’t care anymore. He couldn’t keep this locked inside any longer, and he wasn’t sure if he could even do this. He was starting to hate the Captain for making him endure this, and that was a feeling he was uncomfortable with.

Kes began to protest, but at that moment Tuvok walked in.

“Lieutenant Paris, you are free to go. The Captain would like to see you,” he informed him.

The barrier went down, and Kes immediately went up to him and clasped his arm.

“I’ll be okay,” he assured her.

“I hope so,” she whispered softly.

***

“You want me to do WHAT?” B’Elanna cried.

“The procedure is quite simple,” the Doctor prattled away. “I’ll drive an opening in your skull, approximately 2mm in diameter…”

B’Elanna drowned out his words, and looked at him as though he’d grown several holographic heads.

The nerve of him! Of all people, the Doctor should know that she had an…aversion to Vidiians since what she went through, and here he was acting like he was entitled to take her DNA to save one of them! Anger started boiling in her veins.

“…I demand that you put on a surgical gown and let me do this operation,” he carried on.

“That’s it?” she cried again. “No ‘please’? No ‘can I’? Do you really expect me to do this just because you demand it?”

The Doctor himself started to grow angry, and if B’Elanna didn’t know better, he was becoming too emotionally attached to this patient, if that were even possible.

“Yes!” he exclaimed. “This patient is dying, and you’re her only hope for surviving. Therefore, you must do this.”

“How dare you!” she began, angrily. “How dare you suggest I must do this, because she’s dying. When Durst was being carted off, do you think these ‘people’ gave a damn for his needs? Do you think that they even cared? They extracted his organs as if he were some sort of old-fashioned lab rat, with no concern for him being a person. Yet, you want me to ignore this, and help her, after all they’ve done? Doctor, I still have nightmares about what those people did to me. And if you think that I will-that I would even consider helping one of them- then you’re sadly and grossly mistaken!”

She wasn’t aware until after her rant that she had been flailing her arms around wildly.

The Doctor also gestured wildly at her. “You’re letting your prejudices get in the way, lieutenant! This woman is nothing like those barbarians you met! If you only gave her a chance-,”

“No!” she cried. “You don’t know how-,”

She was interrupted by another presence in the room.

“Excuse me,” came another female’s voice, one that was certainly not Kes.

On realizing who this woman was, B’Elanna immediately became quiet, and sidled back into her chair, as if trying to get as much distance between her and the Vidiian as possible.

“I just want to say that I read about the experiments that were done to you. What you went through must have been very traumatic.”

Though she was reluctant to do so, the woman’s voice commanded her attention. “That’s an understatement,” she muttered.

“I’m sure it is,” Dr Pel said with compassion. “But please understand that this disease has been killing my people for hundreds of years. Finding a cure has become an obsession, and many of the scientists and politicians have never developed a compassion for the people who’ve kept us alive.”

B’Elanna looked at the woman. She looked nothing like the Vidiians she had encountered, although she knew that was because she was a holographic projection of what she could look like, had the disease not been afflicted on her. The empathetic look in her eyes suggested that she was truly a good person, and nothing like the maiming men she had met.

“Have you ever killed someone in order to cure this disease? Or had someone kill someone for your research?” she asked, the answer being extremely important to her.

“No,” Denara replied, shaking her head. “I believe that there are other ways, and my research has been trying to find one. I would never intentionally harm another person just so that one of my people can live a little longer.”

B’Elanna nodded, numbly. She had gone so long thinking that all Vidiians were monsters, that somewhere along the way she forgot that they had been people, too, and though the Vidiians she had met seemed to have forgotten that too, some, like Denara, hadn’t.

“Not all of us are like them,” Denara said, as if reading her mind. “The majority of us just want to get better and get on with our lives. But we know that there isn’t much hope for us left, and these grafts are only prolonging the inevitable.” She turned in the direction of the body sitting on the biobed. “When I accepted those grafts, I had no idea the horror that went into obtaining them. It wasn’t until later that I learnt the truth, and from then refused them.” She cast her eyes downwards. “As much as I want to go on living, I know that because of my choice, I will die soon, and I’ve accepted that fact.” She stepped towards B’Elanna. “I only want your help if you’re willing to give it.”

B’Elanna didn’t know what to say to that. “I…I… I need some time to think,” she stammered, before rushing out the room.

***

“Mr Paris,” Kathryn greeted, as Tom stepped into her office.

“Captain,” he greeted back with formality.

She regarded him from her position behind her desk. His back was ramrod straight, with his hands clasped behind him. This Tom wasn’t the same Tom she had encountered several weeks ago, the one who had been begging her for the chance to experience what could be the greatest moment of his life. The man before her was dishevelled, tired, and carried a haunted look in his eyes. Quite frankly, he was a mess, and with a heavy heart she realized that was because of her.

“Take a seat,” she said, motioning for the chair before her. He did as he was told.

“I wanted you to know, that I think you’re doing extremely well on this mission.”

His lips tightened into a thin line. “Did my mission include physical injury to Commander Chakotay?”

The Captain frowned. “While I admit that that wasn’t part of the plan, the part you played was extremely believable.”

“I’m glad that my performance pleased you,” he replied back, coldly.

Kathryn sighed. “Lieutenant, you know what the situation is. Voyager is in danger, and truth be told, I see no other way to get us out of it.”

“There’s always another way!” he cried. “Captain, do you know how hard this has been for me? Everybody thinks I’m just messing around, up to my old tricks. Surely you saw Harry’s face when I came up with those excuses for being late? He was embarrassed of me! And what about Chakotay? I bet he doesn’t quite understand why I attacked him, even though he’d been trying to help me!”

Kathryn frowned again. Thought she hadn’t given him a script to follow, she had been the one to dictate the tone in which he should act, to which he had followed to the letter.

“You expect me to do this, isolating the ones I love. You won’t let me tell them what is really going on with me. And now they probably think I’m suffering from some psychotic breakdown! I can’t continue like this. Quite frankly, I’m tempted to quit.”

When the Captain had asked him to partake in this mission, she knew she wouldn’t be setting him an easy task. She knew he would find it hard to lie and act as if he had fallen from grace, particularly since he had only recently strived to be the best he could. But she had no idea the gravity of the dilemma she had set him, and it was only now, seeing him broken and beaten before her, that she truly understood the weight she had asked him to carry.

“Tom, I truly am sorry for setting you this task. If you really want to quit, then I will try and find another way to find out who the spy is. But everything has already been set in motion. If you change your behaviour, he or she will begin to suspect something is wrong. And as much as I would love you to relieve the burden and tell your friends, it will compromise the mission.”

“And I guess that is more important than my welfare,” he muttered.

“Tom-,” she began.

He cut her off. “No. I will do this, Captain. But only because the crew is at risk. Just know that there is a price to be paid.”

“I will do everything in my power to ensure that you will be returned safely.”

The look in his eyes suggested that wasn’t what he meant.

But it doesn’t really matter, he thought. It never really did.

Chap 20

FIC: To The Ends of The Earth (Arthur/Gwen, Merlin) PG

2009-10-20T20:57:27Z

The Ends of the Earth

Rating: PG

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer: Merlin and all of its wonderful people do not belong to me.

Summary: Merlin is not sure whether to worry when Arthur is possessed with an inexplicable need...to pick flowers for Gwen, dragging Merlin with him. Counterpart fic to For Me to Prove My Worth, but you don’t have to read it to understand this, although it helps. Written for misseri44 , who wanted an expansion on the flower-picking scene.

***

There were a lot of things Merlin never expected to see in his life, and Arthur Pendragon laying face down in the long grass examining flowers was one of them.

“Arthur,” he began tentatively. “What are you doing?”

Arthur didn’t reply.

“Because from this angle, it looks like you’ve fallen in love with that particular patch of grass.”

The prince rolled his eyes and gave him one of his patented dark looks.

“What kind of ponce falls in love with a patch of grass, Merlin?”

There were a few things Merlin could have said to that, but he decided against it.

“I’m looking for a flower,” Arthur eventually informed him.

“Well, unless the flowers are invisible or really, really tiny, I don’t think you’re going to find any there.”

Arthur shot him a scowl, and stood up. Merlin tried to suppress a grin at seeing the young prince covered in grass stains. Silently, Arthur started moving on.

Merlin rushed to keep up with him. “What kind of flower are we looking for, anyway?”

“A yellow flower,” Arthur replied, brusquely.

Merlin stopped and frowned. A yellow flower?

They’d seen many yellow flowers on their journey: dandelions, daffodils that had just started to bloom, yellow tulips and Merlin was certain that the royal gardens contained yellow roses. Yet Arthur hadn’t so much as given those flowers a second look.

Merlin began to follow him again. “Sire, we’ve passed many yellow flowers along the way.”

“I’m looking for a specific yellow flower, Merlin,” Arthur answered in exasperated tones.

“Well, which one?”

Arthur stopped and turned to face him, and for a moment Merlin wasn’t sure whether he was going to hit him for asking too many questions.

“It’s small,” the prince replied, motioning with his hands and Merlin nodded, pretending to understand the gestures. “And yellow,” he added.

“That narrows it down,” Merlin retorted, trying his best to sound sincere.

Arthur didn’t say anything for a moment. “I’m looking for the mortaeus flower,” he finally admitted, before carrying on ahead of him.

“The mortaeus flower? Isn’t that the flower you-,”

“Yes, Merlin,” Arthur said, cutting him off.

“Then why-,”

“It doesn’t matter, Merlin.”

Merlin frowned again and carried on walking behind him. He was certain no one had been poisoned recently, and as far as he was aware, Arthur wasn’t currently planning on poisoning anyone, unless that person was Lancelot. But Lancelot was nowhere near Camelot.

“I thought you could only find mortaeus in the caves beyond the forest of Balor,” he piped up.

“I know that, you fool. I’m looking for a flower that looks similar to it.”

Merlin wanted to reply that the chances of them finding a flower like that were extremely unlikely, but Arthur’s hand was moving closer and closer to his sword.

“Couldn’t we just go to the forest of Balor?” he inquired.

“Not unless you want to go trekking for two days and three nights, fight giant spiders and go climbing up cave walls. Anyway, it’s hot pot for dinner tonight, and I don’t plan on missing it.”

As if Merlin had the luxury of knowing what hot pot was like.

He let out a sigh, deciding it was best to stop asking questions. Who knew why Arthur so desperately needed to find such a flower?

***

A few hours and too many miles later, he and Arthur had found...nothing. They’d trawled through grass, and Arthur had made Merlin climb tall trees, and they hadn’t found one sodding yellow flower. Scratch that, they’d found no flower of any significance, and yet Arthur still wanted to go on. Merlin tried to suppress the growing urge to curse him with a debilitating spell.

Feeling exasperated, he sat down on a fallen log, giving Arthur a look that plainly stated that he refused to go on further.

Arthur rolled his eyes and sat down beside him.

“My lord, I don’t think we are going to find this flower,” he said, trying his best not to point out the obvious.

He expected Arthur to bite his head off for suggesting such a thing, but instead he let out a defeated sigh.

“I know,” he replied.

The two of them sat in silence, Merlin tired and drained; Arthur torn and defeated.

Suddenly, something dawned on Merlin.

“This need to find this flower, it has something to do with Gwen, doesn’t it?”

Arthur shifted uncomfortably, as he seemed at wont to do when the topic of Gwen arose.

“No,” he denied.

Inwardly, Merlin rolled his eyes. Arthur could be so stupidly stubborn with his emotions.

“You can tell me if it was,” Merlin implored.

“I’m not going to get all wishy-washy and confess all my secrets like some girl!” Arthur retorted.

“You didn’t have that problem last time,” Merlin mused, which received another glare from Arthur.

The prince let out another sigh. “Okay, so maybe I am looking for a flower for Guinevere.”

Merlin smiled, secretly pleased that Arthur had finally confessed it. “So why the mortaeus flower?”

“Because...the flower is the first thing we ever shared together. I thought she might appreciate it, that’s all,” he said with a squirm.

Merlin frowned in confusion. “I thought you were ignoring Gwen. In fact, I distinctly remember you spurning her, giving her the cold shoulder and generally hurting her feelings-,”

“You don’t need to remind me,” Arthur cut in. “And anyway, that was a few weeks ago. You may have noticed that things between us are slightly better.”

Merlin shrugged. “I may have noticed that you’ve stopped willing her to turn into ice with your glare, yes.”

“I never did that!”

Merlin snorted.

“I... realise that my behaviour those last few weeks had been unacceptable, but it’s the only way I could deal with what happened.”

“And now you’ve decided to make it up to her by trying to find the most obscure flower ever. Couldn’t you have just written her a poem? Or drawn her a picture. Maybe you could have rounded up the villains of Camelot and slain them. I hear that’s very in these days.”

Arthur threw Merlin a look. “What are you on about?” he demanded. “Sometimes Merlin, you suggest the strangest things.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who suggested walking to the ends of the Earth to find a flower.”

“It’s not the other end of the Earth, Merlin. Stop being so dramatic. And you obviously don’t know what it’s like to care strongly about someone, because you would go to the ends of the Earth for them if you did.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you were such a connoisseur in these matters.”

It was Arthur’s turn to snort. A few moments later, he replied quietly, “When it comes to Guinevere, I become a lot of things I didn’t think I could be. I know it’s stupid, but she makes me want to be a better man.”

Merlin looked at Arthur. It was true, he decided. For the most part, Arthur had become placated and somewhat more aware of other people and their feelings. He’d started to treat the common people of Camelot with grace and politeness, something that probably wouldn’t have occurred to him had Gwen not brought it to his attention. Arthur had even toned down his cockiness and settled down in himself. The transformation had been amazing, and it was a sight Merlin would not have thought possible a year ago, upon meeting the prince for the first time. Arthur’s behaviour was not solely down to falling for Gwen, but it had helped, and for that, Merlin was glad.

Arthur cast a look up at the sky. The sun was beginning to set, and he was afraid that darkness would fall soon.

“We better start making our way back,” he decided.

Merlin tried not to show his relief.

Together, they set off back home. Arthur was silent for much of the way, and Merlin suspected that he was disappointed with himself. Merlin couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for him. For all his noble intentions, this one gesture would be unfulfilled, and he knew that it had meant a lot for Arthur to achieve it.

Suddenly, an idea struck Merlin. He let Arthur carry on a few feet ahead of him, and started walking at a much slower pace.

“Merlin, hurry up!” Arthur hollered.

“I’ll be there in a few moments!” he hollered back.

He headed for a nearby bush, and peered underneath. There, he found a few small, purple flowers. Making sure that Arthur wasn’t looking, he muttered an incantation that turned the flowers yellow, and beamed when he saw the results. Perfect.

“Arthur!” he cried. “Come over here!”

“For God’s sake, Merlin,” Arthur began as he headed over. “What?”

“Look at these!” Merlin exclaimed, gesturing towards the flowers.

A look of surprise formed on the prince’s face. “You found them!”

“I know,” he said with a beam.

“How did you know to look under there?”

Merlin gave an offhand shrug. “Just a hunch.”

“Good job, Merlin,” Arthur praised, and Merlin beamed again.

Something occurred to him. “I guess you expect me to pick these?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, and Merlin took that as a yes. Sighing, he knelt down and picked them up; his hands brushing against scratchy leaves and branches.

Finally done, the two of them set back on their way home. Merlin kept the flowers in his pouch, wishing that he’d thought of the idea earlier.

***

By the time they returned back in Camelot, night had fallen, Arthur had missed his hot pot and Merlin was exhausted. Next time Arthur demanded they go gallivanting off, Merlin would suggest they bring the horses. Or for him not to go at all.

Merlin took the handful of flowers from his pouch and handed it to Arthur.

“Thanks,” Arthur said. “I don’t suppose that you’d go down to the kitchens for me and see if they have any bread rolls spare?”

Merlin gave him a look. “What was that you were saying about Gwen making you want to be a better man?” he mused.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll do it myself.”

“Good,” Merlin said. “You do know where the kitchens are, don’t you?” he teased.

Arthur gave him a threatening look and Merlin held his hands up. “I’m going now,” he decided, setting off for Gaius’.

Before he went, Arthur stopped him.

“Merlin?”

Merlin turned around. “Yeah?”

“Thanks...you know. For everything.”

Merlin looked at him in incredulity. Had Arthur thanked him for his actions? “You’re welcome,” he answered. “And Arthur? I think Gwen will really appreciate your gesture.”

Arthur gave a smile. “I hope so.”

starry_laa @ 2009-10-14T21:32:00

2009-10-14T20:33:01Z

To Make You See My Worth 5/5

Rating: PG
Pairings: Arthur/Gwen
Spoilers: The 2.04 episode, ‘Lancelot and Guinevere’ and 2.02 episode, ‘The Once and Future Queen.’
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the BBC.
Summary: After his failed attempt to rescue Gwen, Arthur tries to show that now more than ever, he has everything to prove to her. A drop of angst, a big spoonful of light-heartedness (combined with a half-spoonful of heavy-heartedness), a slicing of cheese and a few heart-melting moments made this fic.

Part IV

v.

Kidnap attempt number two doesn’t go quite like the first time.

Guinevere had got herself into peril again, and he doesn’t think twice about going to rescue her. Merlin came in tow; of course, uncertain as to whether he should bring another horse, just in case.

Arthur spent the entire journey worrying over what he might find. He was surprised to find that the fear of finding Lancelot there was stronger than the fear of finding Gwen in harm. But when he arrived, there was no Lancelot in sight. And Guinevere certainly didn’t seem to be in any harm.

He found her brandishing a sword against her kidnappers, and doing a very good job at scaring them into submission.

Arthur took a moment to appreciate the sight. That’s the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, he thought with pride, before jumping in to help her, and finishing the job.

She came back with him on his horse, the way it was always supposed to be. His arms were encircled around her waist; her head pressed into his chest as the two of them relayed their stories to one another.

Their chattering was incessant and Merlin relaxed with a smile as he rode on the other horse, thanking his lucky stars that this time, things went according to plan. He let out a yawn as they headed in the direction of where the sun was beginning to set. Things were going to be okay; for that, he was certain.

***

She’s a million things worth fighting for and more and he wouldn’t give her up if his life depended on it.

He doesn’t need to ride up on a horse to prove his worth to her, for he already had a lifetime ago.

FIC: To Make You See My Worth (Arthur/Gwen), PG, 4/5

2009-10-14T20:13:39Z

To Make You See My Worth 4/5

Today, she couldn’t muster a smile.

The day passed by painfully slow, and not once did a happy thought pass through Gwen’s mind.

When the day began to draw to a close, she rushed back home, in need of the solitude she so desperately sought. She sat on her bed in the dark, letting the deep tide of emotions she was feeling wash over her.

It had been a year since her father had passed away, and not one day had gone by when she didn’t think of him. She had carried on, however, knowing all too well that her father would have wanted her to. Today, though, was unbearable. She missed him and wanted him here. She wanted him to talk and spoil her in the ways she had taken all for granted. She wanted his bear hugs and his good advice. But all she had left of him were memories.

The sobs started before she could control them. In the emptiness of her house, there was no one to hear her cries, and for that she was glad.

This illusion was quickly shattered when someone knocked on her door. She refused to answer it, but the knocking became more persistent, forcing her to open the door.

She got the surprise of her life when she saw that it was Arthur standing outside and immediately felt embarrassed for him seeing her in such a state. He, however, did not seem to notice her red eyes and blotchy skin. Instead, he gave her a deep, concerned glance, before taking her by the hand and leading her back inside. Together, they sat on her bed, with him holding her as she sobbed in his arms; as if somehow, he knew the source of her tears and to expect them on this day.

And maybe he did.

***

A few weeks later, Morgana’s birthday celebrations passed by in a whirl of colour. Elaborate and beautiful, the party described her to a tee.

Gwen watched from the sidelines as the partygoers enjoyed themselves. Even Merlin was throwing caution to the wind and was attempting to dance.

She felt no match to the other more sophisticated women in the hall. She felt very much a servant and inferior to these people, than the best friend of the hostess of the party. In the simple dress her father had given her, she could have been invisible.

From her stance, she eyed up Arthur, admiring his formal red attire that she had always loved. He lit up the room, of course. All eyes turned in his direction, in a way she was sure he was unaware of. He talked to his fellow knights, only pausing once to dance with Morgana. Gwen had smiled on; not expecting Arthur to come and talk to her.

But he surprised her once again.

After his dance with Morgana, he had come up to her and led her onto the dance floor, much to her protestations. Couldn’t he see that people would be watching them, judging them? But he didn’t seem to care.

He drew her to the centre of the dance floor and held her close as they began to sway to the music playing. Her cheeks burned as she imagined observers gossiping about the prince dancing with the lowly servant, and worried immensely what his father might think. But Morgana had deliberately distracted Uther by talking to him, and Arthur had dissolved her fears by smiling down at her, simply not caring about other people’s opinions. She took a chance and rested her head against his shoulder, noting the way it fit so comfortably there.

And for the first time in a long while, she felt as if the two of them really could weather the storm that would be their future.

***

Arthur was cooking her dinner, and she didn’t know what to think.

After his first ‘attempt,’ she would always be sceptical over what he claimed as ‘his’ cooking.

But this time was different, or so he said.

She sat at her kitchen table, observing him as he looked around in confusion at her various kitchen contraptions. She was certain that Arthur wouldn’t know how to boil water if his life depended on it, and yet here he was trying to cook her a whole dinner.

Every now and then she would give him hints, and in return, he would throw her deep, almost reprimanding looks, that set her heart on fire, and she would try her hardest not to giggle.

When not cursing, he would talk to her about trivial things and question her about aspects of her life he didn’t know about. Gwen revelled in this simple act, and wished it could last forever.

As soon as dinner was ready, he set the table himself and sat opposite her, waiting for her to try the food.

She took a mouthful.

“How is it?” he questioned.

“It’s wonderful,” she replied, and he beamed in return.

He took a bite of the food and immediately his eyebrows rose.

“Guinevere,” he began with a scowl. “This is disgusting!”

She bit her lip to stop from smiling.

It was true, but how could she possibly offend his very commendable attempt at cooking?

“I asked Merlin for advice on cooking,” he finally confessed.

Gwen frowned. “But Merlin is rubbish at cooking.”

His scowl deepened. “I realise this now, yes.”

This time, she couldn’t stop from laughing.

He, however, did not return this gesture, and it endeared him to her more. She turned her eyes on to his penetrating blue ones; loving him for trying, even without necessity. She leant over and placed a kiss on his cheek, and loved further the expression of complete surprise at her doing so.

***

He’s not the same person he was a year ago. He’s better. She finds in him a hundred things she never expected to find, and each revelation causes her heart to sing a little louder.

Part V

FIC: To Make You See My Worth (Arthur/Gwen), PG, 3/5

2009-10-14T19:02:10Z

To Make You See My Worth 3/5

Part II

***

iii.

He caught her when she fell backwards on the staircase.

He didn’t know who was more surprised; him for her falling or she for him catching her.

He held her in his arms a moment longer than he should have done, and slowly set her back on the ground.

“Guinevere,” he greeted, cordially.

He watched as she blushed, and started to look a little flustered.

“Sire,” she greeted back in the same tone. She hesitated before saying, “Thank you.”

He gave her a small smile, and watched as she hurried back up the staircase, not turning back round to look at him.

He sighed, and rested his head against the cold marble of the stairway.

Things were awkward between them, and he was to blame. Despite his belief in the two of them, translating that into reality hadn’t been easy. When he passed her in the corridors, it had been hard to greet her. He couldn’t bear a ghost of a smile, or an awkward greeting, not knowing whether it was really him she was looking at when her eyes turned on his, or a dark-haired, better man that had had the grace to cross her heart. He saw the way she moved around the castle, desolate and bereft, and surely he’d be foolish to think any of that was for him?

His heart told him otherwise, and slowly his stubbornness began to melt.

He refused to keep a distance between them any longer.

***

He spent a lot of his time thinking about all the things she’d ever said to him. Guinevere had a fire in her, and had always spoken out with her heart, even if her mind told her otherwise. It was one of things that made him sit up and take notice of her.

There were certainly a few words of hers that that she’d tried to implore upon him.

Humility, respect and gratitude. He hadn’t done a very good job of showing her that he did know what they meant. But he could know – he really could.

***

There’s something different about today, Gwen mused. Maybe it had something to do with the lightness in her chest she’d woken up with, which in turn was due to the fact that things between her and Arthur were looking brighter since their encounter on the stairs a month earlier. There had been the odd smile between the two of them; the occasional hello. It wasn’t much, but it was better than silence, and Gwen finally felt like the two of them were making progress.

But there was something else... a certain atmosphere in the air.

It didn’t take Gwen long to realise that there was a flurry amongst the servants.

She entered the kitchens to begin her usual washing up duty, when the cook came bustling in and demanded a chair to sit down in.

“What’s up with her?” Gwen asked one of the other servants.

“Prince Arthur said thank you to her when she served him his lunch,” the servant had whispered back in conspiratorial tones.

Gwen tried her hardest not to smile.

Reports like this carried on for the entire week. Servants talked about Arthur’s unusual change in behaviour, his sudden politeness to people he wouldn’t normally have acknowledged. His attitude seemed completely genuine, much to the bewilderment of some of the staff. Some even wondered whether he had been bashed too hard on the head.

But Gwen knew: his graciousness and humility, somehow it had something to do with her. And it made her heart glow.

***

Her smile was like a beacon that lit up the darkest night sky. And he noted the way that these days, it never seemed to disappear. It pleased him to see that it was partly his doing. Slowly but surely they were moving pass the rescue incident even without talking about it and having to dissect and analyse what had and had not happened. This was further confirmed to him when Merlin innocently mentioned Lancelot’s name in his and Gwen’s company, and she didn’t so much as bat an eyelid.

Instead, she flashed a smile and handed him some lunch for him and Merlin to take away with them. He thanked her, and his fingers had lingered against hers longer than they should have.

“Come on, Merlin,” he called out in exasperation as he started making his way out of the castle.

“I’m coming!” Merlin cried, as he ran out to catch up with him. “Where are we going, anyway?” he demanded.

Arthur thought about this for a moment. “Flower picking,” he decided.

Merlin stopped dead in his tracks. “Flower picking?” he said with incredulity.

***

When Gwen returned back from the castle that day, she found on her doorstep a bread roll. Confused, she picked it up, only to find a yellow flower, similar to a mortaeus, hidden inside it. She was extremely touched by the gesture, if a little surprised that he remembered her involvement with the flower.

***

He finds her smile beguiling and her soul even more so.

Part IV

FIC: To Make You See My Worth (Arthur/Gwen), PG, 2/5

2009-10-14T18:36:54Z

To Make You See My Worth 2/5

***
Part I

ii.

It started with the small things first, and somehow ended big.

She was certain Arthur was ignoring her. Every attempt to greet him was rebuffed, and it broke her heart a little each time.

But made her angry too.

That self-righteous prat! She huffed to herself, in her highest moment of anger. Who does he think he is?

She sighed. But of course, he was a prince. He could act whatever way he chose. It didn’t matter if they were somehow both to blame for the debacle they were in. If he chose to snub her, throw jibes at her, heck, even have her chucked into the gallows, they were all completely warranted. Even if they were completely unwanted on her part.

She began to adjust to her new life without Arthur. She dissolved back into an invisible world of servants, and confined herself to the fact that this was where she belonged, no matter how empty it made her feel.

A couple of weeks had passed, and she began to imagine that Arthur had forgotten who she was. Every time he walked passed her, he didn’t even offer a glance her way; didn’t react to her presence in the slightest. Gwen thought this terribly unfair- every time he was near, her whole body came alive.

She started to give up on the idea of the two of them getting together, even if every part of her was reluctant to do so. It was funny how giving up on the one thing that offered a constant source of joy, could shroud everything else in darkness in return. Everything she did, she did on autopilot; her mind consumed with thoughts of another time and another place.

One day, she walked passed him, a handful of Morgana’s laundered dresses in her arms. It wasn’t until the last possible moment that she realised he was there, and she dropped the clothing in surprise. Out of habit, she went to pick them up, not expecting any kind of reaction from Arthur. But she was surprised when he knelt down to collect them. She watched on in shock as he handed them back to her, not once exchanging a word, but his eyes glued to hers.

When he was yet again out of sight, her knees gave way and she collapsed on the floor. She was overcome with a mixture of relief and regret; happiness and confusion.

***

She loves him, but she hates him just a little bit too.

Part III

FIC: To Make You See My Worth (Arthur/Gwen), PG, 1/5

2009-10-14T18:31:15Z

To Make You See My Worth 1/5

***

“You have nothing to prove,” she says with despair; eyes urging him not to continue with his foolish mission. “Least of all to me.”

He eyes her with a smile he barely has the energy left to muster. He takes in the confusion in her eyes, and the way that right at this moment, she looks like the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

How can she not see that he’ll always be striving to prove his worth? Especially to her.

The journey back home was more torturous than being trapped in a cage with ‘those giant-baby rats,’ as Merlin liked to call them. And that was definitely saying something. Although Merlin was doing enough talking for the three of them combined, neither Arthur nor herself were offering any words towards Merlin’s inadvertent monologue. She was certain that Merlin was completely aware of the tension between them, and she felt a little sorry for him for having to tolerate it. After all, had things turned out slightly better, Merlin might have had the opportunity to ride back home on the horse she was currently riding, and not walk back on foot, having to endure company that was surely worse than being forced to spend time with Gaius’ librarian friends.

Gwen could almost feel Arthur’s eyes boring into her back as she rode ahead of him. Whether he was boring a hole of despair or a hole of quiet anger, she was unsure. She felt like a schoolboy who had deeply disappointed his schoolmaster. Yet hadn’t she, in a way? Kissing Lancelot and placing her undying gratitude in his hands, didn’t that count as some kind of betrayal?

How to explain, that what she felt towards Lancelot was nothing more than relief and gratefulness for him rescuing her? And that when Arthur had failed to turn up on his white horse and rescue her, Lancelot had been the knight in shining armour that she needed.

Gwen let out a sigh. As if she needed to try and justify herself to Arthur. He was the one who told them they could not have a future together, when she had been perfectly willing to try. He had broken her heart, and she wasn’t going to feel completely sorry for him if she had somehow managed to break his a little on the way either.

Still, it didn’t stop the wistfulness that she felt. Something had irrevocably changed between them, and part of her feared that the chance of them possibly getting together when Arthur was king, was no longer an option anymore, and the thought of such a thing left her with a dull ache that she could not contain. She’d be lying if she were to say she wasn’t nervous about returning home. This journey of silent treatment was one thing, but she didn’t think she could bear Arthur’s reaction when they returned back to Camelot. Visions of him spurning her or shouting angrily at her crossed her mind.

But all she wanted more than anything, was for him to embrace her and tell her that it was going to be all right.

***

She trailed behind him, hesitantly. He didn’t turn around to check whether she was keeping up with him, or whether she was okay. He kept his head straight ahead, and Gwen immediately interpreted this as a bad sign. He deftly handed her over to Morgana, and she expected him to immediately turn and leave.

Instead, he stayed for a while; his eyes never leaving hers.

He seemed to be transmitting her a message, but she couldn’t seem to read what he was saying.

***

The bollocking he receives on his return back to the castle is somewhere between awfully tiresome and extremely dreadful.

Yes, he knows that he’s disappointed his father.

Yes, he knows that he’s a fool for going after a ‘mere servant.’

Yes, he knows that he was ‘god damn reckless.’

Yes, he knows that he’ll have to repent for his actions and spend a lifetime trying to make it up to his father.

But no, he doesn’t regret going after Guinevere in the slightest.

He regretted not getting there in time, certainly. As did he regret seeing Lancelot take the position that was rightfully his. He regretted saying that he only went to get her because Morgana begged him to, even though he, Merlin and every bloody blind man in the kingdom knew that was a downright lie. But regret Guinevere? Never.

The long, torturous journey had given him enough time to think about the two of them. They were a futile pairing, really. Doomed from the start. She a servant, and he a prince and future king. It was the making of a tragedy, surely. Yet, it didn’t matter how impossible the two of them seemed. He was drawn to her like a sorcerer to a cauldron. He found her captivating, intriguing, opinionated, challenging and downright frustrating in equal measures. How could he possibly let that go?

He had told her that the two of them had no future. She had gone and got herself kidnapped, only for Lancelot to come dashing in and sweep her off her feet. The two events should have mutually driven a wedge between the two of them. But call him crazy, it made Arthur more determined to win her- damn the consequences.

***

He may not be the one she seeks, but she to him is everything.

Part 2

FIC: LOOK AFTER YOU (TORRES/PARIS, ST:VOY), R, 18/?

2009-10-14T18:25:56Z

Look After You- Chapter Eighteen

Rating: R
Summary: In which a lost friend may not be so lost after all.
A/N: Thanks as always to Pepper. References to Threshold.

***

Chap 17

“Where have you been, my long lost friend? It’s good to see you again. Come and sit for a while, I’ve missed your smile. Today, the past is goodbye.” Alison Krauss, Stay.

“Here’s to dying and then somehow coming back alive again,” came Harry’s voice, pretending to toast with an imaginary glass of champagne.

“Not to mention turning into a reptile,” added the Doctor, before he disappeared off to dabble with his medical utensils.

Tom groaned from his position on the biobed.

“That was supposed to be confidential, Doc.”

“Everyone already knows, Tom,” B’Elanna said gently.

It had been three days since Tom had come back from the dead, turned into a reptile-like creature and mated with the captain. Kathryn had already been discharged, but the Doctor had informed him that he was to stay longer as his body had gone through the most change. He’d spent the last three days mostly sleeping it off, and it was only today that B’Elanna and Harry were able to see him. The two of them were both perched at the end of his biobed; one on either side of his feet.

Tom was glad to see his friends again, and judging by the appreciative looks on their faces, he guessed they felt the same.

“I had this feeling that we hadn’t seen the last of you, Tom Paris,” Harry said with glee. “Of course, trust you to come back as a lizard.”

“Reptile, Harry,” he corrected. “Lizards are those tiny, slimy creatures that people pickle and put in jars.” At least, that’s what his sister had told him anyway. “And I definitely was not tiny.”

Harry snorted. “Not sure that’s something to brag about there, Mr Reptile Man.”

Tom shot him a glare.

“I hope it’s not too embarrassing for you, Tom,” said Kes from her standing position by his head.

“Trust me, nothing is more embarrassing than knowing you turned into a reptile, mated with your captain and she had your babies.”

Harry and B’Elanna gawped at him.

“Wait a minute, you mated with the captain?” asked an incredulous Harry.

“I thought you knew that already,” Tom said, hesitating.

“Not that bit we didn’t!” exclaimed Harry. “We just thought you’d kidnapped her.”

Tom shut his eyes briefly. Great. Now they’d tease him about it forever.

“Does that mean lizards carrying yours and the Captain’s DNA actually exists, somewhere in this Quadrant?” Harry inquired.

Tom groaned again. He didn’t want to talk about this. Ever.

“We’re really glad you’re okay, Tom,” B’Elanna said instead, softly patting his leg. “You really had us worried for a while.”

He imagined what it might be like if either of them had died, if only momentarily. He’d be broken. “I’m sorry,” he apologised.

“It’s okay. Just promise us no more crazy stunts anymore.”

“Trust me: I’m doing everything by the book now. No more ideas about how to change things. I don’t want to go through something like that ever again.”

“It was awful seeing you like that,” Kes said, her voice full of worry.

“Yes, well, we all know that Mr Paris won’t let a little thing like death stop him,” said the Doctor, as he approached his biobed with a hypo-spray full of an analgesic, injecting him with it. “This should be your last one, lieutenant. You’re body has fully recovered from your…transformation, and you should be free to go later today.”

“Thank God,” he muttered.

“Maybe you can join us for dinner in the evening,” Harry suggested.

Tom emitted another groan. “I can’t handle food right now, Har. Maybe tomorrow.”

“That’s okay, Tom. We’ll save you a tasty bowl of bugs,” he replied.

Tom rolled his eyes. “Reptile jokes. That’s all I’m going to get, isn’t it?”

“And jokes about mating with the captain,” Harry added.

“I’m glad to be the object of your ridicule.”

“Seeing that recently you’d been the object of our misery, me, too.”

He gave them a small smile, still truly sorry for that. He knew Harry’s jokes were a way for him to compensate for the anguish Harry had felt, and he was truly glad to realize how much his friends appreciated him, even if it had come at a high cost.

“We better go, Tom,” B’Elanna said. “Our shifts start soon.”

He felt slightly disappointed, not wanting his friends to leave. “Okay,” he answered.

“Look after yourself, okay?” Harry said.

“Will do.”

B’Elanna patted his leg again. “Don’t go turning into a butterfly or anything,” she said.

“Ah, but the temptation is so strong.”

“Goodbye, Tom,” she said.

“Goodbye, B’Elanna. Goodbye, Harry.”

They exited sickbay, and Tom was left with just Kes and the Doctor.

Kes brushed some of the hair from his face. “I’m so glad that you’re alive, Tom,” she said with a smile. “Things really weren’t the same without you.”

Tom gave her a smile. “So am I, Kes. So am I.”

***

A few hours later, Tom was discharged. Walking onto the corridors of Voyager, Tom had never felt so grateful to be alive. Or human for that matter. He didn’t remember much about being a reptile; just feelings really, and for that he was glad. He arrived at his quarters and punched in his access code. Stepping in, he immediately realized something was different.

“Computer: lights.”

Light was immediately cast around his room. Everything seemed in place, so what was wrong? He closed his eyes for a moment, and inhaled. There was a strange yet familiar smell in the air. A hint of citrus and touch of something almost floral, combined with a slight mechanical smell. It smelt like…B’Elanna. At that moment, he noticed his dressing gown was haphazardly placed on his chaise lounge, and he knew for a fact that out of habit, he had folded it neatly the morning of his mission. Picking it up and unfolding it, he noticed a part of it was damp from where the material had been folded and hadn’t dried properly. He brought the robe to his nose, and it smelt even stronger of B’Elanna. He sat down in his chair, extremely confused. Had B’Elanna been in his room when he was gone, and had she been crying?

Before he could mull over this further, his door bell chimed.

“Come in,” he called out.

The doors opened to reveal Susan. With a sudden pang of guilt, Tom realized that since his return from the dead, he had completely forgotten to tell her.

“Tom!” she cried, rushing over to him. “You’re okay!” She enveloped him in a hug, and Tom found himself wrapping his arms around her.

“You bet I am,” he said with an impish grin, placing a kiss on the side of her mouth, and pulling her to join him on his recliner.

“When I heard about you I was devastated,” she said, her blue eyes wide.

“I’m okay now,” he assured her.

“I’m glad.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “Although, you didn’t tell me you were released from sickbay.”

“I’m sorry, Sue. I kind of forgot with everything that’s happened.”

“Well, because you’re alive, I’ll forgive you. Although turning into a reptile? That’s kind of...weird.”

Tom laughed. “You have no idea.”

“Any other crazy things you want to tell me about?”

He thought of mating with the captain and having ‘lizard’ babies.

“No,” he answered.

“That’s good,” she said softly.

They sat in a companionable silence, with Sue’s head remaining firm on his shoulder. That was fine with him; he didn’t think he could handle anything vaguely sexual right now. In fact, after mating with the Captain and having her spawn, he didn’t think he could face sex for a long time.

Tom’s thoughts drifted to the woman beside him. Sue was lovely and a lot sweeter than her previous cold temperament towards him had made him believe. She was intelligent and good company, but there was something she seemed to be lacking. She seemed to take things too seriously and often didn’t understand why he did some things the way he did. But he had spent more than a year chasing her, and was glad that he finally got her. She was the first girlfriend after Odile and he found that transition not to be as painful as he thought it would be. Harry didn’t understand why Tom had suddenly decided to date her after all his claims of being a good-time guy, suspecting that their relationship was mainly about sex. He’d be right, but it was still a committed relationship, nonetheless. And the truth was, he didn’t quite understand either. Maybe it had something to do with tiring of a lifestyle that involved sleeping with women whose names he could barely remember. Or maybe it had something to do with evading problems.

After losing Odile, his beloved girlfriend from his Academy days, he had been reluctant to love anyone again. He never wanted to be that cause of pain and have to live with it, ever again. Further more, he didn’t want to make himself vulnerable to getting hurt and attaching himself to anyone, knowing that with his luck, he could only cause damage. He knew he could never feel the slightest way about Susan as he had Odile, and thus his feelings weren’t on the line. He expected the relationship to run its course eventually, and he was determined to enjoy it in the meantime.

The only problem was, he was beginning to suspect that someone was starting to make him feel the way Odile had made him feel. He also believed that that person was starting to make the carefully built fort of rules and determination crumble away. And that person wasn’t Susan.

***

The next day, Tom took time out of his busy schedule of doing nothing to visit B’Elanna in Engineering. The captain had given him the day off, and forbade him to commence duty until the following day. Not that he was complaining. He knew people’s relief over him not dying would wear off soon, and that in no time at all, people would be back to wishing the very worse for him.

He found B’Elanna poured over a console, concentrating deeply.

“Hey,” he greeted, leaning over the console.

B’Elanna looked up to face him. “Tom,” she said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “I got a bit bored, so I thought I’d go for a wander.”

“To here? I could think of more exciting places to go to.”

“I think you just insulted the engines, B’Elanna!”

“They’ll get over it.”

Tom smiled. “So, what are you doing?”

She grinned. “Nothing your feeble pilot mind would understand.”

“Oh really?”

“I’m just doing a maintenance scan, Tom.”

“I have no idea what one of those is...”

B’Elanna gave him a look.

“So er... anyway,” he carried on. “When I got back to my quarters yesterday, I noticed someone had been in them.”

He watched as B’Elanna blanched slightly.

“You wouldn’t know who that might be, by any chance?” he asked, folding his arms.

Slowly, B’Elanna shook her head. “No idea,” she replied. “Maybe it was Sue,” she suggested.

“She says it wasn’t.”

“Oh.”

“I wonder why someone was there.”

“Beats me.”

“Do you think it has anything to do with me dying?” he watched as she squirmed, deriving a lot of satisfaction from it.

“Could be.”

“Maybe I’m just imagining things.”

“Maybe.” B’Elanna didn’t quite look him in the eye.

“Or maybe not. Maybe someone was there for a reason. Maybe for consolation. Or to try and steal my Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots, which I’m happy to report they didn’t take.”

“Is it important to find out why?” she asked with curiosity.

He looked at her intently. “Yeah,” he answered. “Because if it’s the former, I’d want them to know that I’m touched. And kind of glad.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh,” she replied. “Well, I guess if you really wanted to know you could ask the computer.” By the expression on her face, he could tell she was praying he wouldn’t.

He shook his head. “Nah, I think I’ll leave it. I suppose it’s not that important after all.” He unfolded his arms and straightened up. “I guess I better leave you to it. I’m going to go and chat with Neelix.”

B’Elanna’s barely concealed relief showed in her eyes. “Okay. Well, have fun.”

He was just about to leave when B'Elanna called out his name.

"Tom!"

He turned back to face her. "I really missed you when you were gone," she told him.

He wasn't sure whether it was a confession or just a revelation, but he smiled and reached out to squeeze her hand; her words meaning everything to him.

***

Chap 19

FIC: Shattered (Gwen/Arthur), PG

2009-10-10T20:34:12Z

Shattered

Rating: PG
Pairings: Arthur/Gwen
Spoilers: The 2.04 episode, ‘Lancelot and Guinevere.’
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the BBC.
Summary: When something breaks, it can almost be impossible to fix.

The aftermath of ‘2.04’ Because the episode was incredibly heartbreaking, it inspired incredible angst... A ficlet that's most probably made up of incomprehensive words and phrases.

***
He’s built a wall around his heart so she can no longer get in.

And when she tries to look at him in the eye, he stares ahead; to the side of her, beyond her. He can’t look at her properly anymore.

She becomes another servant who walks the castle walls, invisible and unheard. He convinces himself that there’s no ending for them. There never really was a start.

***

She holds her head up high, pretending that Arthur ignoring her doesn’t hurt. But it’s a dagger to the heart, and she feels it twisting and turning, shattering it into a million pieces.

And there’s nobody there to pick them up.

***

When she’s with Merlin, he doesn’t come anywhere near.

He tells himself it’s because he can’t stand to be in her presence.

And that it has nothing to do with the fact that it hurts too much to see her.

***

She feels like she’s lost him even though she never really had him.

She spends her nights crying herself to sleep, trying to understand how she got herself into this mess.

Not so long ago, she held nobody’s affections. And then all of a sudden, two come along at once, vying for her attention.

It’s confusing and flattering and everything in between. She’s this and that to one, and this and more to the other, but never expected to have to choose.

How to explain that at one point or another, both held a place in her heart, a position that cannot be relinquished?

And when the equilibrium starts to shift, and a clearer picture starts to form, the one she really wants becomes the one she can’t have.

***

He watches her as she tries to pick up the fragments of her life.

Observes the way she struggles to revert back to her normal life as a servant.

Glimpses the looks of despair she gives, when she thinks no one is looking.

Her world has been shattered, and he knows he’s partly responsible.

When he sees all of this, a little part of him melts and is tempted to help her.

But then he is reminded that she gave up on the two of them too quickly, running into the arms of another.

And that makes it a little harder to forgive.

***

Sometimes she wishes that she could turn back time and change everything.

She wouldn’t allow herself to become besotted with Lancelot again, just because he fits the bill of a knight in shining armour when she needs it.

She wouldn’t allow herself to kiss him.

Or for him to think that her heart was for his taking only.

She’d start from the beginning and erase all the mistakes she’s made.

And somewhere along the way, she’d tell herself not to fall in love with Arthur Pendragon, so she wouldn’t end up in this mess to begin with.

***

He tells himself he doesn’t miss her.

Convinces himself that he doesn’t yearn for her heart-warming smile or her musical laughter.

And denies that she’s the last one he thinks about at night, and the first one he dreams of.

***

She hasn’t smiled in a long time.

And hasn’t seen him properly for even longer.

She’s forgotten who is avoiding whom. All she knows is that’s she’s sick of playing this part.

And that she misses him.

***

When he finally sees her in a corridor, time seems to slow.

It’s been so long since he’s seen her that he’s forgotten that the mere sight of her steals his breath away and clenches his heart in a way he can’t describe.

They both look at each other properly. It’s the first time he’s dared look her in the eye, and he’s surprised to remember the depth held there.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there for. All he knows is that he can’t break away.

***

Her heart is beating a mile a minute as his gaze locks onto hers.

She wants time to stop and for this moment to last, as she knows that at any moment it will break, and all she will have left are pieces that she doesn’t want.

He’s the one who breaks the gaze. Turns his back and walks the other way.

Her eyes bore into his back and she wills him to stay, but he doesn’t.

She closes her eyes and whispers softly, “What do I have to do, to prove myself to you?”

And wills her heart to find a way.

FIC: LOOK AFTER YOU (TORRES/PARIS, ST:VOY), R, 17/?

2009-10-10T13:17:29Z

Look After You- Chapter Seventeen

Rating: R
Pairing: P/T
A/N: Thanks again to Pepper for the beta. References to Threshold. Comments appreciated.

Chap 16 here

***

“It was only one hour ago, it was all so different then. There’s nothing yet that has really sunk in. I grieve for you,” Peter Gabriel, I grieve.

***

Like a child sleepwalking, B’Elanna found herself at the door of Tom’s quarters, trying to find solace. Harry had left not too long after the news of Tom’s death broke, needing time to deal with it alone. B’Elanna hadn’t been quite sure what to do with herself, and had ended up here.

Typing in Tom’s code, she entered Tom’s quarters, and was immediately hit with the scent of Tom: spicy and masculine and a smell she loved.

She cast a gaze around the room, and noticed how clean it was. Despite what one might think, Tom was fastidiously clean and he’d once explained to her that he’d been brought up to believe that appearances were of the greatest importance; from the way he looked to the state of his room, and it was a doctrine that he hadn’t been able to shed. She had never invited Tom or Harry over to her quarters for fear of what they might think of the state of it. She was capable of efficient engineering or efficient tidying, but not both, and the engines won every time.

B’Elanna began to wander around. She had been here so many times, but now that he was gone she felt like she was looking in here for the very first time, trying to give meaning to all the things Tom would never touch again. Tom didn’t have many personal belongings adorning his room, as he had near to nothing when he boarded, yet he seemed to have this way of making all the standard furniture and appendages his own.

She walked over to his computer console, and smiled when she saw that he had replicated some stickers that looked like the rockets and spaceships from the old movies that Tom loved so much, and had stuck them over his console. The computer was still on, and she noted that on the screen was a countdown to his flight mission. The time had long run out, but the letters were still flashing, almost as if they were conveying his initial excitement. She gave one long glance at it, before leaning over to switch it off and close it. In the process, she accidentally nudged the console, and this revealed a photo underneath.

Out of curiosity she picked it up and looked at it. It was an image from Tom’s Starfleet Academy days, and appeared to be a team photo. Tom didn’t talk much of his life back then, and she had no idea what sport he had played. In the photo, there were four people smiling broadly at the camera. One was a much younger looking Tom and she couldn’t help but smile at his full lock of hair. His brilliant blue eyes were gleaming, and he had his arm wrapped around the girl next to him. The girl was the most beautiful human B’Elanna had ever seen. With strawberry blonde hair and eyes the colour of emeralds, her entire presence made her seem ethereal, and this was heightened by her kind-looking features. Her face was pressed close to Tom’s, and her smile matched his. Next to her stood a tall, burly-looking man, with sandy hair and pale brown eyes. He stood proud and tall and the three of them wore gold medals around their necks. The man standing next to Tom was the only one not wearing a sports uniform, nor did he have a medal. He had unruly brown hair and expressive brown eyes, and seemed to be extremely happy for his friends. Turning over the photo, B’Elanna found the words, ‘Never forget’, inscribed on the back. She realized that these people must have been the friends that Tom had accidentally killed, and the girl the one that Tom had loved. Seeing this photo made her comprehend how real these people had been; not just a tragic statistic or a painful memory. With a pang, she finally understood what the weight Tom carried on his shoulders must have felt like.

They’re proud of you, Tom, she thought. I hope you got a chance to realize that.

Setting down the photo, she moved over to Tom’s chaise lounge, and sat down in it. His dressing gown was folded at the end, and she picked it up to smell it. There were tones of his cologne, and with a wave of emotion she realized how much she was going to miss it; miss him.

So many thoughts and feelings, but where to start?

Drawing her legs up to her chest, she wrapped his dressing gown over her knees, as if it were a blanket. She thought back to the very moment she had first met Tom.

She’d been on the Val Jean for six months, and Chakotay had returned from a mission with Tom in tow. Tom had cast a glance around the small ship, with a big smirk on his face. When he saw B’Elanna, his smirk had only deepened, and she had hated him on sight.

You’ve wanted me since the moment you first saw me.

The voice of the manifested Tom echoed in her mind, and she considered his words. Had she really felt that way? Tom had immediately irritated her; the way he tried to tell her how to do her job, while at the same time looking at her like he was mentally undressing her. And the way he objectified her made her feel like she was a child again, being scrutinised by her peers for looking different. So no, there had been no room for appreciation or attraction in those first few instances. But after a while, she found herself watching him. She grew captivated by the way he flew the ship, navigating the Badlands as if he was speaking a language he was fluent at. She had recognized then, Tom’s addiction to adrenaline rushes and dangerous situations, for it had matched her own. At that moment she had developed a small curiosity to see how similar they really were. Much later, they were on a planetoid and Tom saved her from drowning. In those initial moments when he was trying to make her come about, he had been incredibly worried. When B’Elanna had finally opened her eyes, she had glimpsed the panic in his eyes, and his words had been of concern. Gone was his air of arrogance and his cocky attitude, and that’s when B’Elanna had begun to suspect that Tom was wearing a mask; the real and possibly more tender side locked deep inside him. She’d been incredibly grateful for him being there, and they seemed to reach some sort of truce: that they both mutually accepted each other. She had then toyed with the idea of what it might be like to give in to Tom’s advances, but before she could figure out whether she would (and it would most likely be no), Tom had vanished a day later. The feeling of not being surprised had masked the slight disappointment and emptiness she had felt at his departure.

She closed her eyes. She’d forgotten those feelings. Oh, she remembered the scorn, but not the stirring feelings of change, nor the slight glimpse of who Tom Paris really was. She’d feel those things again, later, when he kept her company in the mines, but she only remembered now that she had thought these things before. So maybe that projection of Tom had been right.

She thought about her changing feelings towards him. When she met him again as he pulled her out of the Ocampan tunnels, she’d realized he’d changed. This Tom was more professional and extremely determined to prove that he was more than a leery drunk. He didn’t acknowledge that he knew her from before, and that would only come up later when she referenced him saving her. There were no more lascivious looks or flirting, at least not to her anyway. As comrades, they worked together well, but they didn’t socialise outside of duty, and she didn’t even begin to consider him a friend until after the mine incident. The ease of their friendship was unexpected, but not unappreciated. He was a good friend who was able to understand things about her that most people couldn’t. She adored his friendship. Treasured his warm personality. Revelled in his humour. And with startling clarity, realized that she loved him.

Opening her eyes, she toyed with the sleeve of his robe. The realization didn’t surprise her, and maybe she’d know deep down for a while. Not that she could do anything about it now. Even if she had the chance, she wasn’t sure if she would. She knew she wasn’t Tom’s type by a long-shot. Someone like Sue was.

This is the secret you’ve been keeping, Tom’s voice whispered.

Maybe. But this was the secret she would keep. It didn’t matter anymore.

She let out a sigh. Life without Tom would be empty. She hadn’t felt this desolate since her father had left her all those years ago, and it felt like it was happening all over again, except this time, the person she loved didn’t have a choice in the matter.

There would be no more memories. No more jokes, or laughter, pranks or happy times. No more good company and intriguing conversations, and her heart broke at the prospect.

With surprise, a tear trickled down her face. She had made a promise to herself when she was younger that she would never cry again. When her father had left, she’d cried for days on end, before emerging from her room and vowing never to waste tears on another person or situation again. She hadn’t cried when her beloved grandmother died, or when the other kids at school bullied her. She didn’t cry when she stopped talking to her mother or when she couldn’t adjust to Starfleet’s stringent rules and regulations. Crying was for the weak. And she wasn’t that weak five-year old anymore. But just this once, she allowed herself to break this vow. Another tear formed, and then another, before a torrent of tears came. She moved his robe close to her face, allowing the tears to fall into the soft material, trying to come to terms with the fact that he was gone. After a while, the tears stopped, and she sniffed, trying to compose herself together. Standing up, she set his robe back down on the chair, and headed out. Before she reached the door, she cast one final glance around the room, trying to commit everything to memory.

“Computer: turn out the lights,” she whispered.

And just like that, his quarters were shrouded in darkness.

***
Chap 18

FIC: For Your Honour (Your Knight in Shining Armour), Arthur/Gwen/Lancelot, PG

2009-10-06T18:42:27Z

Title: For Your Honour (Your Knight in Shining Armour)
Author:

starry_laa
Rating: PG
Pairings: Arthur/Gwen, with a side helping of Gwen/Lancelot
Spoilers: Based on the preview of the episode ‘Lancelot and Guinevere.’
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the BBC.
Summary: Lancelot was the first man to ever notice her as more than a servant. Beautiful and golden; safe and secure; gallant and determined. He could offer so many things should she wish to take them. But she knows in her heart that she can’t.

Gwen is trapped in a prison, hoping that Arthur will come and rescue her, and he’s determined to be the one who does so. But things don’t always go according to plan.

Author’s notes: Based on the prompt by

sterni75 The first paragraph is paraphrased from the episode ‘Lancelot,’ I couldn’t find a clip to quote it directly. Also, I decided not to go too much in detail about Gwen’s rescue, as I don’t know much about the Star Wars-esque rescue scene, to write about it.

***

Arthur turns his gaze to the two women who have just entered the room. One is tall, dark-haired and fair, and dressed in exquisite robes of purple. The other is shorter and darker, adorned in an unremarkable dress.

“Tell me,” he says to Lancelot, who is sitting beside him. “Do you think she’s beautiful?” he inquires, eyes locked on Morgana.

Lancelot transfixes his gaze onto Gwen, and doesn’t let go. “Yes,” he answers. “I think she is.”

Lancelot was the first man to ever notice her as more than a servant. From the moment he met her, he treated her as if she really were a lady, and for that she’ll always be grateful. She’ll always admire his chivalry and his honour, as well as cherish his good looks and charm.

Yet, when he sweeps his hand through his hair, she’ll always be thinking of blond when she sees brown.

When he locks his soulful dark eyes onto hers, she’ll always be searching for brooding blue.

When he calls out her name, she’ll always be hoping to hear a three-syllable song of her name.

And when he takes her by the hand to lead her away into the sunset, she’ll always be looking the other way.

Beautiful and golden; safe and secure; gallant and determined. He could offer so many things should she wish to take them.

But she knows in her heart that she can’t.

***

Arthur never regretted being noble until he got to know Guinevere.

She’s everything he’s not. She’s honest and genuine, with a touch of grace and a bucketful of integrity. She teaches humility without moving her lips and spreads compassion with a mere glance of her eyes. When he sees her, he sees light, feels warmth and grasps love.

But noblemen do not fall in love with peasants. Destiny keeps it that way.

He walks away from her in the castle corridor, the memory of their kiss imprinted strongly on his lips, trying to assure himself that he’s making the right choice. But he desperately wants to take her hands and lead her away, but knows that he can’t.

With every step he takes away from her, he wishes he was one step closer.

ii.

It was supposed to be a simple trip. That was why he hadn’t uttered a word when Morgana requested that she be allowed to visit the neighbouring village for a diplomatic talk. Naturally, Guinevere accompanied her, and it never crossed his mind that she could become endangered.

When the sun began to set, and the party still wasn’t back, he began to feel the stirrings of worry. As night fell, that worry evolved into full-fledged anxiety. He didn’t think twice about setting out to find them; find her.

He was a prince and a knight. She was a handmaiden and a peasant. They were simply not allowed to be together.

But that would never stop him from being the one to set upon his white horse and find her.

***

How could they mistake her for being a princess? Couldn’t they see that despite her colourful dress and groomed hair, she was nothing but a handmaiden? She wore this dress like a mask, and played the part of a lady convincingly. She told herself that it was to look presentable next to Morgana.

Yet she would be lying if she said it had nothing to do with making Arthur see that she could be a lady too, as well as a simple peasant.

She sits in her prison and waits, wondering if she will ever be let out. She dreams of Arthur coming to rescue her, releasing her and taking her away.

But she knows she has little value, and near to no worth. The king would never allow Arthur to come and get her.

And while Uther is still King, Arthur would always be ruled by duty and not heart.

***

He disobeys orders to set out to find her. He doesn’t care that Uther is against rescuing her. He doesn’t care about rules or reason. He doesn’t care about duty and preservation. The only thing he cares about was her. And he wasn’t going to abandon her; not this time.

***

Merlin stops him and demands to know why he is so determined to rescue Gwen.

He turns to face him and doesn’t know what to really say.

“Arthur, I know you,” Merlin began. “There’s more to this than just rescuing Morgana’s handmaiden, isn’t there? You think of her as more than that, don’t you?”

Arthur gave Merlin a look of frustration, resisting the urge to punch him for yet another astute observation.

“No,” he denies.

Merlin gave him a look. “Arthur.”

“I turned her away!” he suddenly cries out. “I turned her away when I wanted I wanted nothing more than to keep her. I made that decision, so how can I admit that I think about her all the time? That I wish that I had told her that I need her?”

Merlin, the fool, looks at him with pity. “Your decision isn’t irrevocable,” he points out.

“But it might be too late to change it,” he mutters bitterly. “For all we know, something might have happened-,” he can’t finish his sentence.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Merlin says. “You’re here to rescue her, even though I know your father wouldn’t allow it.”

Arthur frowns. “What’s your point?”

“My point is, what are you waiting for? Go and rescue her! Be her knight in shining armour, and see if things can be changed.”

Arthur’s jaw tightens, and he looks in the direction where he thinks Gwen is being held.

If there’s something he can do right, it has to be this.

***

She doesn’t know how long she’s been sitting there. All she knows is that it’s been long enough for the skirt of her purple dress to have been turned brown by the dirt-ridden floor, and for the tears she’s cried to have dried up long ago. Whatever hope she held within her has gone. Arthur’s not coming to get her.

Nobody is.

She feels a surge of anger towards the prince. Damn him! She thinks. Damn him for making me feel more than I should. For giving me hope when there is none.

She studies her hands, calloused and dirtied. She looks at her dress that has been reduced to ruins. It’s the one nice thing she’s had, and the only thing to make her feel at all lady-like. But maybe it was time for her to realise that she really wasn’t a lady. And didn’t deserve to be.

She closes her eyes, and tries to quench the emptiness she feels. She wishes she was cunning enough to think of a way out of this prison. But all she has is contained within her, and at that moment, it didn’t feel like much at all.

Suddenly she hears the sound of approaching footsteps, and knows immediately that it does not belong to the prison guard. Her heart starts to beat a little faster. Could it be...?

She stands up and reaches up to the door, waiting.

She’s more than surprised when she finds that her rescuer isn’t Arthur.

It’s Lancelot.

iii.

“Lancelot,” she whispers in awe. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to rescue you,” he informs, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Confusion is etched upon her face. “But how-,” she begins.

He interrupts her. “There’s no time to explain, Gwen. We must hurry.”

He unlocks the door with a key she has yet to learn of how he obtained. He takes her by the hand and leads her out, hurrying her along the empty corridors. When they reach a safe alcove, he drags her there.

“Are you okay?” he demands.

She tries to conjure up the right words to express her gratitude to him. His brown eyes are brimming with concern and tenderness, and she’s touched, knowing that no one has ever quite made her feel as if she was this important; this worth saving.

“I thought no one would come and rescue me,” she confesses.

He gives her a look as if to say why ever not?

And she can’t help but smile. Here’s a man who can’t seem to see her obvious flaws. Who holds her up in a high light, and rescues her when she believes no one would. This is a knight who believes she is someone worth fighting for, who, even though she is a peasant, treats her like a princess. How could I forget? She wonders. How could I forget what it feels like to be looked at like this?

The man before her is her equal. With him, there would be no interruption and no putting duties first. He knows what it’s like to spend an entire lifetime fighting for what others take for granted, and has values that match her own.

And she thinks to herself, Surely this is the man I’ve been waiting for all along?

She ignores the whisperings at her heart telling her otherwise.

***

He’s battled men and travelled through dangerous dungeons to get to this point. Metaphorically, he feels like he’s slain every dragon in the country to get here.

Only, now that he has, he finds out that he’s too late.

The prison he’s sure she was held in, is empty. And it doesn’t take too much wandering to find her. But she is not alone, and she most certainly does not need rescuing any longer.

He watches from his vantage point as Lancelot holds his Guinevere. His heart clenches as he watches Lancelot bring up a hand to her face.

“I would die for you a hundred times over,” he tells her, “in order to ensure you’re safe.”

Arthur watches as Guinevere looks on at Lancelot with sheer emotion reflecting in her eyes. He can sense her eternal gratitude and knows at that moment he’s lost her.

He leaves them behind and exits the castle, to go and find Merlin.

He had intended to come and rescue her. But instead, he returns empty-handed and broken-hearted.

iv.

It’s at Morgana’s insistence that a party be thrown to celebrate Gwen’s homecoming and Lancelot’s rescue of her. Morgana has convinced the king of the party’s importance, and as usual, Uther bowed down to Morgana’s request.

The festivities are more lavish than anything Gwen could expect. There’s so much food; a lot of it she’d never been able to try before. There’s music playing and wine flowing merrily. Her heart warms at the sight. She tugs at the dark green dress that Morgana has lent to her. It makes her feel beautiful, and she tries to feel deserving of that honour.

Lancelot is part of the celebrations. She watches as praise is showered on him, and he modestly smiles at the attention. Every now and then he will look at her and beam, and she convinces herself that she feels immense warmth when he does so.

Merlin sidles up to her.

“It’s good to have you back,” he tells her, with a smile on his face.

She returns one back. “It’s good to be back,” she says. Although she’s not really sure if it is. She no longer feels as if she fits into the role of a mere handmaiden, knowing that there’s more to life than what lies within the castle walls.

She can no longer pass Arthur in the corridors wishing that one day they can be together, because she’s certain that he doesn’t feel the same way she does about him. Ever since her return, he has not even come to greet her.

She wants to escape from this place. To go somewhere where she can fight for what she believes in without restraint and to mean something to somebody. She wants to go to a place where her life is more than that of a servant, and she knows that Lancelot can offer that to her.

Yet, she can’t help but look around for Arthur; to search for a sign that he does in some way care for her.

Unbeknownst to her, Merlin was looking at her in a curious way.

“He went to rescue you, you know,” he tells her.

Gwen looks at him in confusion. “What?”

“Arthur. He went to find you, even though his father would not permit it.”

She doesn’t understand. “Then why-,” she begins.

“Because he didn’t get there first,” Merlin says, cutting her off.

And just like that, everything becomes clear.

***

He remains in his bedchambers, trying his best not to sulk.

Lancelot, that ponce, he thinks. Who does he think he is?

Why does he have to be so bloody perfect? He sweeps in with his perfect hair and perfect attire, and rescues the girl that should be his. It’s ironic, really, how Lancelot yet again proved that he’s every inch the knight in soul that he never got to be in blood.

Only that isn’t quite true anymore, Arthur ponders. Since leaving Camelot, Lancelot has found a nearby kingdom that accepts men who aren’t of noble blood, and trains them up to be knights if they prove themselves worthy. And Lancelot sure holds the credentials to do so.

Even from his quarters, he can hear the music from the celebrations from here. He imagines Gwen dancing with Lancelot; him holding her tight and showering her with praise. No doubt he’ll ask her to marry him. And no doubt she will say yes. Why wouldn’t she? Lancelot has more to offer her than he ever would. Lancelot will take her away, and treat her like a lady. He will get to love her without duty getting in the way. She will be more than a servant, and the kind of woman that a kingdom will love. And, Arthur thinks with a scowl. Guinevere will get to have Lancelot’s babies.

He continues scowling, imagining all the things Lancelot will get to do with Guinevere that he will not get the chance to do. He tries to convince himself that it’s for the best, but fails miserably.

Suddenly there is a knock at his door, and he lifts his head up.

His eyes convey surprise when he sees that it’s her. She’s dressed in a beautiful dark green dress that he’s certain she doesn’t own. It makes her glow with life, and complements the red hue infused on her cheeks. She looks wonderful.

“Guinevere,” he greets in surprise.

“My lord,” she greets, almost shyly. “May I come in?”

He nods, wordlessly.

Tentatively, she comes to sit next to him on his bed, and for a while neither of them say anything.

“I thought you would be enjoying yourself downstairs,” he informs her.

She looks at him. “I was,” she says softly.

“Oh.” He tries not to show his disappointment.

“I noticed you weren’t there,” she states.

He shrugs. “I didn’t want to spoil Lancelot’s moment of glory,” he replies, trying to conceal his bitterness.

Gwen smiles at his response.

“I suppose he’s already proposed marriage to you?” Arthur inquires, sarcasm heavy in his voice. “Offered to ride off into the sunset with you, and live happily ever after?”

Gwen ignores the obvious jealousy in his voice. “Actually he did,” she tells him.

Arthur looks at her in shock.

“But I said no,” she continues.

“Why?” he demands.

She shrugs. “Lancelot is a wonderful man. He can offer me a good life, and can make me relatively happy. But I do not want that.”

He frowns, not understanding. “Why ever not?”

“Because, you fool, it is you that I want.”

His eyes widen at her words, and yet she keeps on smiling.

“I did not think that you cared enough about me to come and rescue me,” she continues. “I was scared that your duty meant more to you than my life, and when Lancelot came to rescue me, I thought he was the only one who cared. But now I know that isn’t true.”

He continues frowning. “But I didn’t rescue you.”

“Oh, Arthur. Can’t you see that you did?”

***

Together they lie on his bed; his arm wrapped protectively around her waist and her with her cheek against his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart.

His hand strokes the fabric of her dress, and he resists the urge to touch what’s under.

His Guinevere has chosen him, and he’s won something worthwhile that he came so close to losing.

And like all good things worth having, this one will stay close to his heart.

***

She sighs against his chest, confident that she has made the right choice.

Lancelot was everything she could have wanted. Perfection handed to her on a plate.

But she didn’t want perfection.

She wanted Arthur.

He wasn’t as humble as Lancelot. Neither was he as gallant. He was flawed and selfish, childish and confusing. But there was something inside of him that she couldn’t ignore; something about him that pulled her to him, so she couldn’t turn away.

Things between them were going to be hard. Choosing him meant conducting a clandestine relationship, and for her to be second-best to his duties as prince, at least, for the time being.

Yet knowing that he felt as strongly about her as she did him, was enough to keep her going for however long it took.

FIC: LOOK AFTER YOU (TORRES/PARIS, ST:VOY), R, 16/?

2009-10-06T08:47:35Z

Look After You- Chapter Sixteen

Pairing: P/T
Rating: R
A/N: As always thanks to Pepper for the beta. References and lines from episodes Prototype and Thresholds. This chapter probably seems a little rushed as it goes through a few episodes, but I didn't want to drag out something that would pretty much be a reiteration of the episodes.

***

***

Chapter Fifteen over here

“Would you want to know what I’ve been through? Would you want to know I’ve missed you too and have you on my mind?” Elisa, Stay.

Tom Paris was dating Susan Nicoletti.

The news had spread around Voyager faster than an asteroid colliding into a planet.

This piece of information had surprised B’Elanna, since Tom had clearly said that he wasn’t the dating type. And whether he was taking this ‘relationship’ seriously or not, he was definitely acting like it.

It had been a week since the somewhat strange fantasy of Tom, and she had yet to analyze what had transpired. Instead, she did what she was good at: ignoring the problem, and choosing to lock those thoughts and feelings in a box to consider at a later date or not at all. Without realizing it, she had become hyper-alert around him; with everything said and done analysed to the ninth degree. If he noticed something odd in her behaviour, he didn’t say anything. In turn, he hadn’t been acting normal around her either. But since he’d been with Sue, he hadn’t been acting normal in general.

Tom seemed to spend all his free time with Sue. And when she did get to see him, Sue was always plastered to his side. Their inability to keep their hands of each other was irksome, and Harry seemed to think so too. In fact, Harry seemed downright exasperated by this fledging relationship, and in the instances when they had to spend time with them, B’Elanna and Harry made their excuses and left. Not that Sue was a bad person. She was reasonably nice, and mildly intelligent. But Tom had this uncanny ability to turn even the most intelligent women into a simpering fool, and that didn’t make for good company.

Why he had suddenly changed his casual-only rule to a serious relationship, she had no idea. All she knew was that ever since the day he had been stranded with Neelix on an away mission more than a month ago, Tom had been acting funny. B’Elanna knew that Tom had never had more than one date with any woman aboard Voyager. The Delaney sisters didn’t count, as they were almost child-like, and their dates resembled that of a young teenager: just a bit of harmless fun. Tom never went out with the twins unless Harry was with them, and she knew for a fact that the dates never progressed further than mild flirting.

She was surprised at how much Tom’s love life was becoming a major issue for her. She’d never cared for any of the women he had previously been with, and in fact had downright scorned them. Yet every time she saw Sue and Tom together, something bubbled up inside her, and she suspected that this alien feeling was jealousy. But how was it possible to be jealous of a man who had been with so many women that it intimidated her?

When she closed her eyes and thought of the memory of his lips against her skin, she remembered why.

***

A couple of weeks passed by, and B’Elanna began to adjust to life without Tom around, or at least him being around and accessible. It was just Harry and her who made the effort to spend time together now, and though she loved his company, a part of her longed for the days when Tom used to be around, and the three of them used to tease one another. It had been a long time since they had pulled pranks on one another, and she missed the way it was always Harry and her ganging up against Tom. She had no idea how that set up had formed, but she felt it was a more satisfying pairing than it would have been had Tom and Harry ganged up on her. She was pretty sure neither of the men would be alive to tell the tale for starters.

One evening, restless and bored, she decided to wander around the ship. Harry was at band practice, and she could find nothing to occupy her mind. After much aimless wandering, she found herself hovering at the entrance of Sandrine’s. Wondering what she was doing there, she noticed that Tom and Sue were there too, playing pool.

She watched as Sue held the cue in her hand, and was bent over the table, with Tom right behind her, showing her how to shoot properly. Evidently, Sue was pulling the ‘I-can’t-play-pool, show-me-how’ routine she knew to be a popular trick amongst certain women, and Tom was taking the bait. With disgust, she observed the way his entire front side was leaning into her, with both arms encompassing her waist and hands positioned over hers on the cue, something that ought to be illegal in public. Part of her felt that she should walk away, but she found that she was transfixed by the sight; except it wasn’t Sue she was imagining Tom was whispering sweet nothings to; it was her.

She let out a gasp and she tried to suppress the memories she so desperately didn’t want to remember, and finally found the energy to turn and leave.

She didn’t notice Tom lifting his head and spying her as she walked away.

***

Another two weeks passed, and she and Harry found themselves in Engineering late at night, trying to figure out how to bring an android back on line.

Her head was hurting and she was exhausted, but she was not a quitter, and she refused to rest until she’d solved this problem.

“We’ve got to find a way to fix this,” she lamented.

“We’ve been trying for hours. We need a break. The EPS charge can hold until morning,” replied Harry.

“You go ahead; I can use some time to think.”

“If you’re staying, I’m staying.” Kahless, she loved Harry.

“Get some rest, Harry.”

Harry grinned. “You may think you’re tougher than everyone else, B’Elanna Torres, but I can go without sleep just as long as you can. And I’m not a masochist either.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t make me laugh, Starfleet. And don’t make me pull rank on you either.”

“If you insist. But let me know if you come up with anything, lieutenant,” he said with another grin.

She rolled her eyes, wondering when he had turned into Tom.

The truth was, despite how gruelling this task was, it was a much welcomed distraction from real life, and at least for a while made her forget her problems.

***

B’Elanna’s day was not supposed to include being kidnapped by a robot, who wanted her to build more robots, and then proceeded to attack Voyager. I do one nice thing, she thinks, and this is what happens.

“…we are programmed to destroy the enemy. It’s necessary for our survival…” she heard 3947 say.

She felt her heart sink. Of course this android had to belong to a group of androids that took the phrase ‘destroy the enemy’ seriously. And now she’d become part of this.

She heard him talk, but his words didn’t sink in. All she could think about was that her stubborn nature had cost her again. Because of her determination to fix 3947, she had unwittingly aided them in ‘destroying the enemy,’ at the cost of the Builders’ lives, and now it seemed, the crew of Voyager.

She had to find a way to stop him. With determination, she took the nearest tool she could find, and drove it into Prototype Unit 001. Seeing this, 3947 turned around and shot an electric pulse at her. She screamed in pain and fell to the floor.

“You have terminated the prototype,” 3947 stated.

“Yes. I have,” she said between gritted teeth, trying to ignore the pain while simultaneously considering how to escape.

“You will build another.”

“Never!”

“Lieutenant B’Elanna Torres. I told 6263 that you are not out enemy.”

She looked at him in anguish. “I never wanted to be your enemy. I’m sorry,” she informed him, and with those words, found herself transporting off the ship.

Slipping into unconsciousness, the only words she was aware of was, “Shuttle to Voyager: I’ve got her, but she’s injured.”

Tom’s voice. She had never been so glad to hear it.

Her last thought was, Why am I not surprised that you came and got me?

***

When B’Elanna woke up, she found herself in sickbay.

“Ah, lieutenant, you’re awake,” the Doctor said.

“Seems that away,” she murmured, sitting up and bringing a hand to her head. “What happened?”

“You survived yet another precarious situation, no doubt thanks to my ingenious medical skills.”

“No doubt,” she echoed.

“You received a high electric shock, B’Elanna, resulting in tissue damage, ventricular fibrillation and neuropathy. Needless to say you’re okay now, but I suggest bed rest.”

“No argument there, Doctor,” she said. “Thank you. And I forgot to say the other day, thank you for your help.”

The Doctor looked startled for a moment. “You’re welcome,” he said in an almost gentle manner.

At that moment the doors opened, and Tom walked in. Seeing him, the Doctor took this moment to walk off into his office.

B’Elanna’s eyes widened at the sight of Tom.

“B’Elanna!” he exclaimed, walking up to her.

“Tom,” she greeted.

“I came to see if you’re okay,” he said, clasping her hands without realizing he was doing so.

“I’m fine,” she replied. “A little shocked, but I’m fine. Thank you, Tom. If you’d been a moment later-,”

Tom cut her off. “I made a promise, didn’t I?”

She smiled at him. “You did.”

“So, an army of killing robots, aye?”

She permitted herself to grin. It had been a while since they’d had a moment like this. “Yeah, who would have thought? They were like those robots out of those weird films you like.”

“Really? I’m sad I missed it.”

“Somehow I doubt it. I was almost responsible for destroying Voyager. You know…again.”

“I’m pretty sure that endangering the lives of a ship is mandatory for every Chief Engineer,” he assured her. “And we’re all okay. Apart from Harry- he ate something bad for lunch. But he’ll be okay. And well, you’re okay.”

“Thanks to you.”

“It was nothing, really.”

For a moment the two of them simply stared at each other, trying to sort out the puzzle that was the two of them.

***

“…9.8, 9.9, 9.95. I’m approaching the threshold, but the nacelle isn’t holding.”

“Tie in auxiliary power,” Harry suggested.

“It’s no use, I’m breaking up!” Tom said, as he frantically tapped at the controls, at the helm of the shuttle. “I’m breaking up!” he repeated again.

The shuttle exploded, and Tom found himself on the ground of the holo-deck.

He found a tired Harry looking at him with his chin rested on the console, and B’Elanna giving an exasperated look.

“You’re dead,” she informed him.

He sighed, and rubbed his hand over his tired eyes. Didn’t he know it.

A month had passed since B’Elanna had been abducted by a robot, and things between them were better. Tom was still dating Sue, but had finally realized that if he wanted to spend time with his two friends, he had to spend time with them minus Sue, which they seemed to appreciate. He didn’t realize how much he missed them, until seeing B’Elanna in sickbay. The Warp 10 project was something he’d been thinking of for a while, but his reasons for executing it was an excuse to spend more time with B’Elanna and Harry. Though things between him and B’Elanna seemed slightly awkward, they were improving. And this project offered a chance for them to work together, merging ideas and theories together, minus their emotional problems.

Although he revelled in their company, this project wasn’t proving easy. Days were spent mulling over every contingency and trying to find ways to solve an ever-growing list of problems. When it seemed liked they might succeed, the shuttle broke up and they were back to square one. It took a throwaway comment from Neelix for them to be back in the game, only for Captain Janeway to take this chance away from him because there was a slight chance that he might be prone to some sort of damage. He practically had to beg the captain for this opportunity. He’d gone most of his life with people laying expectations on top of his; claiming that he was ‘special’ and destined for great things, and this was his chance to prove that he was worth something; that he hadn’t derailed irrevocably when he had caused the crash those few years ago. Knowing this, the captain acquiesced, and he finally felt like things were going to stay right after all.

On the day of the launch, Harry and B’Elanna accompanied him to the shuttle bay.

“Nervous, Tommy Boy?” Harry inquired.

“Me? No!” he lied.

“Just remember everything we’ve gone through in the scenarios, and you should do fine,” B’Elanna informed him.

“Here’s hoping.” They reached the Cochrane. “Well, this is my stop.”

Harry clapped him hard on the shoulder. “Good luck, buddy. I’ve got to say; I’d rather it were you than me on that shuttle.”

He winced slightly. “Thanks, Har. You always do know the right words…”

B’Elanna smiled at him genuinely, but there was something glistening in her eyes that he couldn’t define.

“Good luck, Tom. I know you can do it. Just remember to come back in one piece.”

He grinned at her. “You have my word.”

They turned and left, and his heart started beating in anticipation. Sue commed him to wish him good luck, as did Neelix and Kes, which gave him further drive. He was going to do this. He was going to reach Warp 10.

***

He’ll never forget this day; his greatest achievement. He’ll never forget the congratulatory looks from Captain Janeway, or the sheer pride that shone in her eyes. He wouldn’t forget the congratulations from Sue, Harry, Kes and Neelix or the awe from his crewmates. But mostly, he’d never forget the look of B’Elanna, as she came bounding into sickbay to check that he was okay; the relief in her eyes that he was, and watching that look transform into great enjoyment as she told him that he’d done it.

Her pride spoke volumes of how far they’d come since they’d first met, and it made it all- even the events that would follow from going to Warp 10- worthwhile.

***

Later that night, Captain Janeway made a ship-wide announcement that Tom had died.

B’Elanna and Harry both sat in shock in Engineering. It had only seemed like minutes ago that Tom and B’Elanna had been sitting in the mess hall, trying to drink a celebratory coffee. But then Tom had collapsed, and just like that he had died.

B’Elanna couldn’t bring herself to believe it.

***

Chapter Seventeen

FIC: LOOK AFTER YOU (TORRES/PARIS, ST:VOY), R, 15/?

2009-10-02T19:29:33Z

Look After You- Chapter Fifteen

Rating: R
Summary: B'Elanna discovers that what she thought was a normal day on Voyager, is far from it.
A/N: This chapter is definitely R-rated-ish. Refences and lines from Persistence of Vision. And thanks to Pepper for the beta.

***

Chapter Fourteen

As always, just another normal day on Voyager, B’Elanna thought, tapping furiously at the control panel of the warp core. She was desperately trying to set up a resonance burst, in order to inhibit the sionic rays that were currently incapacitating the crew. But as the whole of her staff resembled something more akin to a zombie out of one of Tom’s holo-deck programmes, her attempts were proving near impossible.

She gave a sigh of relief as she heard the Engineering doors slide open.

“How’s it going down here?” She was surprised to hear Tom’s voice.

“Not good,” she answered. “I can’t get a response from anybody. It’s like they’re catatonic.” She turned to look at him. “What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be at helm control?”

Tom tapped his fingers against the control panel. “I figured helping you is more important right now.”

B’Elanna gave him a confused look. “If you say so. But you know, you could have sent Harry. Or Chakotay.”

“They’re out of action. But I’m glad to know my company’s appreciated.”

B’Elanna gave him a wry smile. “I’m sorry, Tom. I’m kind of a little stressed here. Trying to set up this burst knowing that the fate of the entire crew rests on it doesn’t make for easy working. You could make yourself useful," she added pointedly.

Instead, Tom came and positioned himself on her other side. “I think we should take an escape pod out of here. We passed an M-class planet yesterday. The pod should get us there in a week.”

B’Elanna stopped what she was doing and gave him an incredulous look. “That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”

“B’Elanna, there’s nothing more we can do here. If we stay here any longer, we’ll be next.”

“I’m willing to take that risk. I need to fix this, Tom. And I’m not going to let some bio-electric field incapacitate me.”

“Sheer will alone does not make you immune to deadly alien weapons, B’Elanna.”

“It does if you’re Klingon. If you’re not going to be useful-,”

Suddenly Tom grabbed her wrists, drawing her close to him, and she looked up at him in shock. “Please, B’Elanna. Come with me. It’s the only way.”

“Tom! What are you doing?”

He didn’t let go of his grip on her. “Come with me,” he repeated.

“I can’t believe you’re saying this! You know we’ve got to stay and help the others.”

“Do I have to give you an order?”

“You’re the same rank as me!”

“I have seniority.”

She snorted. “Just barely,” she said, trying to shrug off his grip on her.

He loosened his grip on her hands and instead positioned them lower, so his arms were circulating her waist, and pulled her close. And just like that, everything became clear.

“You’re not Tom, are you?” she asked quietly.

“I’m the Tom you want me to be.”

She looked at him in confusion. “The Tom I want you to be?”

The intent way he was looking at her was starting to make her feel panicked. She knew that she was strong enough to fight him off, but in that moment, she couldn’t seem to send the right messages to her brain to move.

His right hand moved up to her neck, whilst his left arm stayed firmly around her waist, and she drew her face away. He counteracted by drawing his face even closer to hers so that she could feel his breath on her face, and she closed her eyes at the sensation.

“This is what you want,” he said, his words slow and deliberate. “Deep down, this is the secret you’ve been keeping. From him. From others. And from yourself.”

B’Elanna opened her eyes, staring at this Tom’s eyes, as he tried to make her believe he was real, and slowly, ever so slowly, he was starting to make her believe.

“You want me,” he carried on. “You’ve wanted me since the moment you first saw me. All those pretences of despising me and resisting me. Deep down, you’re just like the rest of all the women you try so desperately not to be like. But I see right through you, B’Elanna. And I want you, too.”

He began a trail of soft kisses along her jaw, and she let out a moan, resisting him only slightly, and enjoying the feel of his lips against her skin. It had been a long time-too long- since she’d allowed herself the touch of another, and despite the internal battle building within her, the temptation to give in to him was strong.

In her mind this Tom was real, and she was confronting something she’d been quelling inside for a long time, and hadn’t even acknowledged.

Her gaze locked on to his. “Yes,” she answered, feeling no guilt or objection. “Yes,” she repeated.

The next thing she knew, they were in her quarters. She didn’t allow herself to question how they had got there.

He had her pinned down to her bed, his weight pressing atop her.

A small part of her, her rational side, was trying to gain control. “We have to…help the…others,” she said, in between his drugging kisses to her neck. How was it that he knew to touch her here, where she was most sensitive?

But he wouldn’t let her resist, trying to distract her instead.

“I want you,” he repeated, his expert hands sliding underneath her jacket and removing her turtleneck from the waistband of her trousers. “I’ve always wanted you. From the moment I saw you on the Val Jean I knew I had to have you.”

She gasped at the sensation of his hands on her waist; his fingers drawing maddening circles on her skin.

“Wasn’t…going…to…make…it…easy,” she said through gritted teeth.

He chuckled into her neck, and she planted her fingers into his hair in response.

He moved his chin up to her ear; his fingers following upwards.

“Give in to me,” he whispered in her ear.

She responded by claiming his mouth and passionately kissing him, barely giving him a chance to respond. And with every taste of him, she felt herself letting go of all of her inhibitions: reality, consequence, her duty and the fact that this Tom wasn’t real at all.

***

Later that evening, Harry, Tom and she were sitting in the mess hall, each staring glumly into their cup of coffee. It had been an extremely miserable day, and B’Elanna had no idea why she had even agreed to meet them. Maybe it had something to do with them feeling just as unhappy as she did.

“So what did you see?” Harry finally asked.

“I saw my father, being his usual, deprecating self,” Tom muttered dispassionately.

Harry gave him a small smile of sympathy. “I saw Libby, telling me she hadn’t given up and asking why I had.”

Tom gave him a small smile back. “What about you, B’Elanna?”

B’Elanna looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

“I…,” she began, and he noted the way that she couldn’t meet his gaze. “I saw Chakotay,” she said.

For a moment, Tom’s eyes seemed to darken. “Oh,” he said with raised eyebrows.

They drank the rest of their drinks in silence, before Tom and then Harry made their excuses and left.

B’Elanna leant back in her seat and sighed.

Well, she thought. I can now cross Tom Paris off the list of men I have not had a sexual fantasy about.

She sighed again, feeling a heavy weight on her shoulders, and cast a gaze around the room. She noticed Captain Janeway sitting by the view-port, deep in thought. On impulse, she decided to go over to her.

“I’m surprised to see you here, Captain,” she said, startling the captain out of her reverie. “Isn’t this the day you’re usually in the holo-deck?”

“I thought after our recent experience, that I’d take a break from fantasy for a while.”

B’Elanna smiled. “I don’t blame you. I think that it had an impact on all of us.” She leant forward, her chin in her hands. “Do you think it’s true? The alien was reading our minds? Creating images from our own experiences?”

“It seemed that way,” Kathryn answered. “He had an uncanny ability to bring buried thoughts out into the open. Why?”

“Oh, it’s just…I experienced something I would rather not admit,” she replied.

“I know, me too.”

B’Elanna looked at the captain in surprise. Sometimes it was easy to forget that she was a woman too, who felt emotions and had thoughts that weren’t permissible for a captain.

“But in a way, it did us all a favour. Maybe it’s best to look those feelings in the eye, than to keep them locked up inside,” Kathryn carried on.

That’s what I’m afraid of, B’Elanna thought. She had no idea how to go about processing the events of the last twenty-four hours; how to deal with feelings she wasn’t aware that she had -or had she been? All she knew was that a door she would rather have left closed had been open, and there would be no going back to shut it now.

Chapter Sixteen

FIC: LOOK AFTER YOU (TORRES/PARIS, ST:VOY), R, 14/?

2009-10-02T19:21:40Z

Look After You- Chapter Fourteen

Rating: R
Summary: Tom learns something from Kes that makes him look at the light in a way that he's reluctant to do so. Quotes and references for Partuition.

***

Chapter Thirteen over here

***

“How am I doing?” Kes asked, worry etched in her voice.

Tom watched her from the passenger seat. “Well, we’re still in one piece, so I’d say you’re doing okay.”

Kes let out a groan. “Aside from that inertial dampener incident.”

Tom waved a hand. “That was minutes ago.”

Kes flayed her arms over the con, clearly still nervous about flying the shuttle, even if it was simulated.

“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this, Tom Paris.”

Tom grinned at her calling him by his full name.

“I thought you might want to learn something that wasn’t medicine-related for a change.”

“I don’t think I was cut out for this.” Kes let out a long breath, and reclined back in her seat.

“Kes, I know there’s a pilot in you somewhere, just dying to get out.”

Kes laughed. “Somehow, Tom, I doubt it. Oh, I keep meaning to tell you. I read the book you gave me.”

“Already? Did you like it?”

He watched as Kes beamed. “Oh, it was wonderful. I did seem to notice a theme, however. The beautiful girl is always a poor girl or a princess, and she is always waiting for her Prince Charming to rescue her.”

Tom grinned. “Kind of an antiquated notion, isn’t it?”

“Yet the stories are still compelling. I guess that’s why they are still popular today.”

“Well, if you’re looking for something slightly different, I have a holo-novel about a beautiful girl who cares nothing about beauty herself, and has an insatiable need to read and learn. Due to a situation that I will not disclose, she finds herself in a castle of a horrible beast, and learns the true meaning of beauty.”

“I don’t think that story is in my book.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“It sounds interesting. I’d love to try it.”

“Of course.”

Kes frowned. “This notion of a Prince Charming. Is it something that people still believe in today?”

Tom thought about B’Elanna, and how much she’d probably hate the idea of some prince riding on his horse and trying to rescue her.

“Probably not in the way they are portrayed in the stories. I think women would like them to be a little more dimensional and real. I know my sisters used to dream of theirs when we were younger.”

“So what constitutes as a Prince Charming these days?”

Tom considered this. “My sisters would never settle for a man that didn’t treat them with respect or honour. They wanted someone who understood them, and I think deep down they needed someone who could rescue them if they needed it, even if it was something as little as to rescue them from a bad day, although they never admitted that.”

“Did your sisters tell you that?”

“Well, not exactly. But when you’re an inquisitive little brother, you know these things.”

“How? Is it intuition?”

“I guess. That, and the fact I read their diaries.”

“Tom!”

“It’s a rite of passage for every brother to read their sister’s diary.” He frowned. “Although it took me ages to hack into their PADDs.”

Kes was shaking her head at him.

“If it’s any consolation, I read some pretty traumatic things that no brother ever needs to know about a sister, so I won’t be doing that again.”

Kes laughed. “So are you Prince Charming material?”

It was Tom’s turn to laugh. “I doubt it. More like the Arch Enemy that needs defeating.”

“But you seem to suit all those requirements.”

“It’s not as simple as that.”

“Well,” Kes began in a decided manner. “I don’t think you’re a contender for the bad guy either.”

Tom grinned. “Thanks, Kes.”

“That’s okay. I just don’t want you to think you’re not prince material. And I’m sure there are plenty of girls who think so, too.”

Tom thought briefly of Susan, and the way she was slowly succumbing to his advances. “I doubt it.”

“Well, what about B’Elanna?”

“B’Elanna? You mean B’Elanna Torres? She most definitely does not believe in Prince Charming.”

“Why not?”

“She’s far too cynical, for starters.”

“But the two of you, aren’t you-,”

“Just friends,” he finished for her.

“Oh.” For a moment Kes looked confused. “I thought maybe…I sensed that…oh, it doesn’t matter.”

The holo-deck started beeping, signalling the end of their lesson.

“Come on, Kes, I better get you back to your own Prince Charming, before he slays me for keeping you for too long.”

***

“Must you play something so depressing?”

Harry cast a withering glance at Tom, who was sprawled out on his couch.

“My room: my rules,” he said flatly. “Rule number one: whatever I want goes. And I want to play this tune.”

He resumed playing his clarinet.

“Rehearsing for your band?” Tom inquired.

Harry paused. “Yep.”

“How is the band?”

“Fine.”

“Exactly who has made the band?”

Harry rolled his eyes, and put down his instrument. “I didn’t realize we were playing twenty questions, Tom.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just…depressed.”

“Depressed?” Harry sighed, and came over and sat next to Tom. “Okay, what is it, Paris? I, your reluctant psychiatrist, will yet again listen to your problems.”

“Thank you, Harry. Your concern is touching. No, really, it is.”

Harry just looked at Tom.

“Okay, fine. Harry, I’m in trouble.”

“What’s new?”

“Okay, I’m conflicted.”

“What’s new?”

“See, I was talking to Kes today.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re in love with her.”

“I’m not in love with her. Let me finish talking! What kind of psychiatrist are you, if all you do is interrupt what I say?”

“Well, it’s not like I’m charging.”

“Anyway, she said something that got me thinking.”

“Is that the problem? She got you to think?”

Tom glared at him. “Harry!”

“I’m sorry.”

“We were talking about Prince Charming, from fairytales. And she seemed to have this belief that I could be someone’s…prince.”

Harry sniggered. “Well, you sure are charming.”

“That wasn’t the problem.”

“What was, then?”

“She almost implied that something was going on between B’Elanna and me.”

Harry almost dropped his clarinet. “Well that’s…unexpected.”

“Tell me about it. But the thing is, Kes is really perceptive. She picks up on a lot of things that no one else may notice. So what does she see when she looks at B’Elanna and me?”

Harry considered this. He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t noticed a connection between the two of them. With their past history, the Vidiian incident and their growing friendship, B’Elanna and Tom seemed extremely in tune with each other. Such in a way that neither of them had realized it. “I have no idea,” he lied. “What do you see, Tom?”

Tom shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean yeah, B’Elanna is attractive. But she’s…B’Elanna. She’s my friend.”

“That’s it?”

Tom shrugged again. “She understands things about me that I didn’t think anyone did. But then so do you, even if they’re different things. And maybe… I like her laugh. Oh, and I almost kissed her when we were stuck on that planet.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “You almost kissed her?”

“I didn’t mean to. It just…happened.”

“That was why you were avoiding B’Elanna after that.”

Tom shrugged.

“So what does this mean, then?” Harry asked.

“Nothing. It means nothing.”

“So you’ve thought certain things about her, and it means nothing?”

“Yeah. B’Elanna doesn’t need someone like me, Harry. I’m only going to hurt her.”

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s something I’m extremely good at doing.”

Harry didn’t say anything to this.

“B’Elanna is just my friend,” Tom reiterated.

Harry looked at him “Who are you trying to convince, Tom? Me or you?”

“You. I can’t bring myself to feel anything more for her. Or anyone for that matter.”

Harry gave him a long look. “Can’t or won’t, Tom?”

Tom didn’t say anything for a while, but Harry could see him closing another part of himself off; suppressing a part of him that was desperately trying to thrive.

“It doesn’t matter,” Tom finally said. “It’s Susan that I’m after.”

Chapter Fifteen

FIC: LOOK AFTER YOU (TORRES/PARIS, ST:VOY), R, 13/?

2009-09-28T21:11:54Z

Look After You- Chapter Thirteen

Rating: R
Summary: Harry seems awed to see Tom after encountering him in an alternate reality, B'Elanna learns something new about Tom and both Harry and Tom learn something new about her.
A/N: References and direct quotes from the episodes Non Sequitur and Twisted, the rights of which Paramount hold. Thanks again to Pepper for the beta.

***

Chapter Twelve

About a month later, the trio found themselves enjoying a drink in Sandrine’s. It had been a while since all of them had gathered together after duty, with one or more of them either busy or pulling a different shift.

Harry was giving Tom a strange look, as if he was seeing him for the first time.

Tom put down his beer. “What is it, Harry? You’ve been looking at me strange ever since you got back from your mission.”

B’Elanna grinned. It was true. She watched as Harry gave a sheepish smile, and listened intently as he told them of his experience in an alternate timeline. He focused again on Tom when he told him about meeting him in the bar, and how he had been disappointed in Tom’s behaviour; then how Tom had surprised him by coming to his aid when Harry was fleeing Starfleet.

“I never imagined what life was like for you before Voyager. I never considered what you were like. I’ve never seen you as anything more than honourable, so it was weird seeing you as anything but that. But then you went ahead and proved that you were anyway.”

Tom didn’t say anything for a while. “I think back to those days, and I hate the person that I was. I’ve often wondered if I would have been more than a scoundrel if it weren’t for Voyager, and I always thought that I would have always been a misfit. I guess I needed someone to believe in me.” At the risk of sounding too sappy, Tom punched Harry in the arm. “Thanks, buddy.”

Harry winced. “No problem.”

B’Elanna looked at them both warmly. It was good that Harry was also shedding light on Tom’s past, too. She’d met him back then, and aside from saving her, he had pretty much fit the picture Harry had painted of him. Her low expectations of him had been affirmed when he had left the Maquis not too long after he had joined, an act which for a long time she thought was of betrayal. But he had been trying to save their ship, and had got caught in the process, which spoke volumes of him.

“What were you like in the Academy?” B’Elanna asked with curiosity. He had told her when he had first met her that they were at the Academy at the same time. He’d made some remark about him knowing of the only half-Klingon there, and his categorization of her had angered her. That, and she’d not been aware of him at all during her brief time there.

Tom shrugged. “Oh, you know. The usual. Charming. Studious. Gifted. A straight A+ student. Wonderful in everyway.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? Were you also egotistical?”

“Me? Never!”

“Since when were you ever studious, anyway?” Harry asked.

“What happened to your unrelenting faith in me?” Tom inquired.

“No offence, Tom but I can’t imagine you as the academic sort. I bet you were one of those annoying types who never had to study to get a good grade; you just did, naturally. Grr, I hated those types! I used to have to slave away to get a decent grade, and some schmucks would just roll on into a test and roll out again, ace it, without even reading a book,” B’Elanna ranted.

“Ah, yes, I loved being one of those schmucks. We didn’t need a book, B’Elanna. All we needed was right here,” Tom said, tapping his temple.

B’Elanna rolled her eyes. “Let me guess. You occupied your study time, by ‘studying’ the female students.”

And just like that Tom’s expression turned sour. “I wasn’t a dog back then, B’Elanna.” He stood up. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you guys later.” With that, he walked off, and almost ran over Susan Nicoletti in the process.

“What was that all about?” B’Elanna asked, as she saw Tom catch Susan, and apologize.

“I don’t know. He’s never said it, but I think he was involved with someone then, and that something bad happened to her.”

She watched as Tom kept his hands on Susan, and by the look of it, was beginning to sweet-talk her.

“Do you think the girl may have been involved in the crash?”

Harry shrugged, as Tom walked out with Susan. “Could have been.”

“Wow,” she said softly.

Tom’s life was a lot of things, and complex was definitely one of them.

***

A couple of weeks passed without incident. Tom didn’t bring up the episode of his outburst, and Harry and B’Elanna didn’t mention it, nor did they do anything that might provoke him, including play pranks on him. Not that they had seen much of him anyway; from what B’Elanna heard, Tom was busy chasing after a very keen Susan.

B’Elanna and Tom found themselves in the holo-deck, waiting in the dark for Kes to turn up for her surprise birthday party.

“What did you get her?” B’Elanna whispered to Tom, who was crouching down beside her.

“I got her a book on fairytales.”

“A book?”

“Yeah, she likes that kind of thing. What did you get her?”

“Harry and I got her something together, since I’m not exactly good with this kind of thing. We got her a box.”

“A box?”

“You know, one of those pretty boxes, which you put personal things in. Harry’s idea not mine.”

She could practically see Tom grinning in the dark. “I’m sure she’ll like it,” he assured her.

At that moment Kes came in, and after a minute of her wandering around in confusion, they all jumped up and shouted, “Surprise!” Almost giving the poor girl a heart attack.

They showered a very surprised Kes with presents and her cake, and B’Elanna smiled at how overwhelmed she looked. Sometimes she wished that she was that awed by life as Kes was.

The moment was interrupted by a weird, ringing sound that threatened to blast out their eardrums. From then on, B’Elanna knew that Kes wasn’t going to be entitled to have a normal birthday party.

One spatial distortion, one massive headache and one long trip of wandering aimlessly around Voyager later, B’Elanna found herself in the turbo-lift with Tom, trying to get to Engineering.

“Are you okay, B’Elanna?” Tom asked, as B’Elanna furiously rubbed her fingers against her temple.

“Not really. I get one day off to relax at a party, and what happens? This!”

“Tell me about it. I really wanted to try Neelix’s cake.”

“Really?”

“Well, it looked good, didn’t it?” he said, tapping away at the control panel. “And I figured as a rule, if Neelix’s food looks bad, it usually is. So the reverse has to be true.”

“As ever, your logic is irrefutable.” B’Elanna leaned towards Tom, and in the confined space, she was practically leaning against him. “Are you sure this is how you got there before?”

Tom twisted to look at her. “Relax will you?” he said, and B’Elanna tried to ignore the tingling feel of his breath against her skin. “So far we’re right on schedule. The next stop should be… Voila! Engineering.”

“One gold star to you, lieutenant,” she said with a grin, as she darted off, giving out orders.

Her biggest surprise came when she was headed off to reset the pattern buffer controls, and instead of heading out of Engineering, found herself gazing into the quarters of Ensign Nozawa.

B’Elanna’s jaw dropped at the sight of the well-built man dressed only in his boxers.

“There’s…an…emergency si-situation aboard ship,” she stuttered. “Just stay right where you are. That’s an order.”

He gave her a nod, not seeming too surprised to see his superior at his quarters.

B’Elanna closed the door and leaned against the wall, wincing in the process.

Tom chose that exact moment to come up to her side.

“I think you handled that very well, lieutenant,” he said with a pat of her shoulder.

She resisted the urge to punch him in the stomach.

***

“Yet another weird day on Voyager,” Harry surmised, as the three of them sat at a table in Sandrine’s, enjoying the resumption of Kes’ festivities.

“I’d say so,” Tom said, as he dug into his piece of cake. “Wouldn’t you say so, B’Elanna?”

B’Elanna glared at him. “It’s been a long day, and I’ll be glad when it’s over,” she said.

“B’Elanna got the pleasure of seeing Ensign Nozawa nearly naked,” Tom added.

B’Elanna upped her glare to a death-glare. “Do you know what discretion means, Tom?” she demanded.

Tom shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Harry laughed. “It must have been quite a sight.”

B’Elanna shrugged. “Let’s just say that Starfleet uniform conceals a lot.”

“As opposed to the Maquis uniform, which is very figure hugging,” Tom quipped, his elbow playfully nudging B’Elanna in the side. “So, are you going to be pining after him now?”

B’Elanna elbowed him. “I don’t think so, Tom. Unlike you, I don’t see an attractive body, and find my pheromones spiralling out of control.”

“How is your pursuit of Susan going, anyway?” Harry inquired.

Tom grinned. “Oh, it’s going well. She hasn’t actually agreed to go on a date yet, but she hasn’t made any excuses to leave me when I start talking to her.”

“Maybe she has an ear infection and can’t hear you very well. I’ll tell her to go and see the Doctor,” B’Elanna said.

Tom gave her a look. “Oh, you’re hilarious, B’Elanna,” he said as he took another bite out of his cake. “You’re just jealous.”

She gave him a mock look of surprise. “How ever did you guess? I’ve always wanted a man to sweet talk me like he’s reading lines straight out of a flirting-manual.”

Tom frowned. “I don’t do that.”

“Oh really?” Harry asked.

“No. I use my natural born charm.”

B’Elanna snorted.

Tom fixed her with another look. “What would you rather have me do, B’Elanna? Buy her flowers? Write her love notes? Compose poetry?”

B’Elanna shuddered. “Not unless you want her to die of a sugar overload. If a man composed poems for me, I’d shove him out an airlock.”

“You don’t like poems, B’Elanna?” Tom asked sweetly.

“Not love poetry. Unless I feel the need to throw up.”

“I thought Klingons were big on poetry as part of their courtship rituals,” Harry said.

“Ah yes, the age-old ritual where the women instigate violence, and the men counteract it with sappy poems.”

“Not quite your thing?” Harry grinned.

“It doesn’t exactly make my heart quicken.”

“So mighty warriors who expose their tender side to the women they love by reading poetry, doesn’t make you weak at the knees?” Tom inquired. “I’ll add that to the long list of things you despise.”

B’Elanna took a bite out of her cake, and found it not to be too bad. “I like my men like I like my Alvanian brandy. Strong. None of that wimpish, sappy stuff.”

Tom raised his eyebrows and Harry beamed.

“We’ll add to that short list of stuff you do like,” Harry said, a twinkle in his eye.

Chapter Fourteen

FIC: LOOK AFTER YOU (TORRES/PARIS, ST:VOY), R, 12/?

2009-09-25T22:04:55Z

Look After You- Chapter Twelve

Rating: R
Summary: AU after Faces. Over time, two very different people find themselves a common ground, and find out what it's like to be friends first, and more second.
A/N: References to Elogium and Pathways. Comments welcome.

***

Chapter Eleven

Tom was on the way to the mess hall when he spotted Kes struggling with two buckets full of some kind of vegetable.

“Need a hand?” he asked, coming to stand beside her.

“Tom!” she greeted enthusiastically. “Oh, of course.”

He took one of the buckets off her.

“So how are you, Kes?” he asked her, as they headed towards the turbolift.

She flashed him one of her standard smiles, one that she never had a problem giving him. In fact, he loved that Kes was one of the only people aboard Voyager who treated him without prejudice, and had done from the moment she’d met him. Someone like Kes had no idea what it meant to be hostile, and for that he was glad.

“I’m very well, thank you. My plants are doing extremely well. You have to come by and see them one day.”

“I will,” he said sincerely, pleased for her that they were doing so well.

“And what about you, Tom? Are you well?”

He grinned at her. “As always.”

They reached the lift, where they found a very bemused Chakotay, muttering something about fraternization. Kes’ eyes grew wide as Chakotay explained what he had seen, and Tom grinned when he saw that the look on her face resembled the look his mother used to give him when she would find that he’d yet again reprogrammed another one of her romantic holo-novels.

When they stepped out of the lift, he laughed when he saw that her expression had not changed.

“Kes, it wasn’t that bad. It was just a kiss,” he teased, feeling like an older brother making his little sister squirm.

“But it’s not allowed. People can be so disrespectful.”

He laughed again. He really did love Kes’ innocent nature.

“Hey, have you had a chance to try that holo-novel yet?”

“Yes, and I loved it. What’s the name of those types of stories?”

“A fairytale.”

“It was very interesting. I liked going from the slave girl to the beautiful princess at the ball, who falls in love with the prince.”

“Notice any similarities with your life?” he asked with a grin, motioning to her ‘prince’ working in his kitchen, ahead of them.

Kes laughed. “My life isn’t that glamorous.”

Tom laughed, and put the bucket of cabbage down on the counter. “I’ll see you later, okay?” he said, grabbing a bowl of Neelix’s gloop in the process.

“Okay, Tom. Thank you for your help.”

He gave her a smile, before heading towards B’Elanna and Harry, who were both giving him looks of disgust.

“That’s just wrong,” B’Elanna said to him.

“Hello to you, too, B’Elanna. What’s wrong?”

“You and Kes,” Harry answered. “You do realize she’s taken.”

“Not to mention she’s only one,” came B’Elanna, wrinkling her nose. B’Elanna really had a thing about Kes’ age. In fact, he knew the Ocampan species just didn’t make sense to her.

“Actually she’s two in a few weeks. What are you guys on about?”

“It’s still weird,” B’Elanna went on, ignoring his question. “You do know that when you’re on your deathbed, and your grandkids ask how young the youngest girl was that you got with, the answer will be two-years-old? And you’ll probably croak and die before you have a chance to explain that she was part of an advanced-aging race.”

Tom gave them both an incredulous look. “Wait a minute: you guys think I’m after Kes?”

“Well, you have been spending a lot of time with her,” Harry pointed out. “And every time you see her, you have this big grin on your face.”

“I can’t believe you both think that. She’s my friend. Scratch that, she’s like my little sister. I don’t feel that way about her at all. She’s not even my type.”

“Yeah, she’s too clever,” B’Elanna remarked.

Tom glared at her. “And anyway, grandkids? I don’t plan on even having kids. Ever. Ugh, now I’m not going to get that deathbed scene out of my head. Thanks, B’Elanna.”

B’Elanna smirked. “No problem.”

Tom looked down at his lunch and stirred the foul-looking concoction, daring himself to taste it, and then immediately spat it out. “Oh God, that’s disgusting! What is this stuff?”

B’Elanna shrugged. “Don’t know. I opted for the safer option,” she said, motioning towards her replicated sandwich.

“I think I’m going to do the same,” he said, standing up and heading towards the replicator.

He was pleasantly surprised to find Sue Nicoletti at the replicator, and waiting behind her gave him a few moments to admire her tall, blonde, and what many considered attractive, form. He knew attractive when he saw it; and Sue Nicoletti was definitely it.

Turning around and seeing him, she smiled widely. “Hi, Tom.”

Tom’s eyes widened in surprise. Sue never gave him the time of day, let alone addressed him by his first name.

“Hi, Susan,” he greeted back. She smiled at him again, and walked off, leaving him staring at her dumbly.

Focusing his attention back on the replicator, he ordered a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and was confused when red jell-o transpired instead. He walked back to the table with a bemused expression on his face.

“You okay there, Tommy?” Harry asked.

“No. I ordered a sandwich,” he replied glumly. “There must be something wrong with the replicator,” he said, meaningfully looking at B’Elanna.

“It worked fine with me.”

“Well, maybe it stopped working. You should check it out.” He sighed at his jell-o. “Jell-o for lunch. Great.”

He missed the look that B’Elanna and Harry exchanged.

***

“It’s been a weird day,” Tom mused as he wandered over to the replicator in his room. “Some weird entities trying to mate with the ship, and Kes going through premature elogium. What next, an alien trying to propose to the warp core?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Harry said, relaxing on Tom’s couch.

“Is B’Elanna not joining us?”

“Last time I checked, she was nursing her baby back to health.”

“Please don’t tell me she refers to Voyager as her baby. That would be incredibly sad.”

“She doesn’t. Not in public anyway.”

Tom grinned. “One coffee,” he told the replicator. He swore when the replicator gave him toffees instead. “Something is still wrong with the replicator. It’s given me toffee.”

Harry’s head shot up. “Really? Give me some. I love toffee.”

Tom shot a toffee at Harry, and hit him in the head.

***

The next day, Tom was yet again at the replicator.

“I would like a bowl of…creamy tomato soup.”

It gave him a can of whipped cream.

Walking slowly over to B’Elanna and Harry, he fixed them both with a look.

“You’ve reprogrammed the replicator for me, haven’t you?”

Trying not to smile, B’Elanna nodded slowly.

He shook his head at her, and looked at the can in his head. A thought involving spray cream and their faces popped in his mind, and he was tempted to re-enact this image.

***

A couple of days later, B’Elanna entered the mess hall for dinner. Harry was working a different shift to her and Tom would be joining her later, and she scanned around the room for somewhere to sit.

She immediately spotted a very lonely looking Sam.

B’Elanna hesitated. She’d recently learnt of Sam’s news, and imagined that Sam was feeling particularly vulnerable right now; however, she didn’t consider herself to be the type of person who could cheer her up. Yet she felt slightly guilty about leaving her alone. B’Elanna was after all a senior staff member, who was supposed to look out for the crew even if they didn’t belong to her division. Although not close friends, she considered her a friend, due in part to their mutual friendship with Joe Carey, and Sam really was a lovely person and just one of the few women she could tolerate. She sighed. If only Tom were here, he’d know what to say.

Dithering for a few moments on the spot, she finally decided to join her.

“Hi, Sam,” she greeted.

Sam looked up. “Lieutenant,” she said in surprise.

B’Elanna smiled, despite herself. “We’re off duty. You can call me B’Elanna.”

Sam smiled back. “Right. B’Elanna.”

“So, do you mind if I sit?”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

B’Elanna sat down.

“No company today?”

“No. Joe and Ayala are both working, and I don’t really know anyone else.”

“I see.” B’Elanna knew about Joe working, and figured about Ayala, but she couldn’t really think of anything to say. Wringing her hands together, she tried to figure out how to say what she wanted. “I, er, heard about your news. Congratulations.”

Sam smiled weakly. “Wow, news travels fast.”

“Actually, the Captain told us in a meeting, so that we had enough time to adjust the ship to it.”

“Oh.”

Silence fell.

“It must be scary for you,” B’Elanna said finally. “Being pregnant, so far from home, and without your husband.”

Sam’s face crumpled. “It is,” she said softly. “I’m terrified.”

B’Elanna hesitated for a while, before placing her hand over Sam’s.

“You have a whole ship of people who would rally out and help you if you need it,” she said.

“I know. Except I don’t know most people that well, and it would feel weird asking them for help. And really, it doesn’t matter how much support I have here, all I want is my husband.”

B’Elanna could only imagine how that felt. “Tell me about him.”

Sam’s eyes glazed over. “He’s Ktarian. I met him when I was in the Academy. I liked him the moment I first saw him, but I could never imagine that he’d like me back, or even know who I was. But he did. And after a while, he asked me to study with him, using it as an excuse to spend time with me. Things went from there. We got married three years ago, and had been trying for a baby for a while. We’d given up hope, and then I got posted here, and as fate would have it…” Sam’s voice trailed off.

“You shouldn’t have to go through this alone,” she said gently. “Nobody should.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learnt, is that I’m not alone. Joe and Ayala are always checking up one me. God knows, they have experience with pregnant women. And Neelix is so supportive. And the Doctor, well, he’s so ecstatic that you’d think the baby is his. For that I’m glad, but sometimes, it doesn’t make it any easier.”

“Maybe…maybe, it’s a sign. A good sign. Maybe… this baby happened now to help you get through our time here.”

Sam cast her gaze onto her barely-touched food. “I hope so.”

“I know that I’m not that good at giving advice, but if you ever need someone, you know, a female someone, I guess I’m here. Or maybe Kes, she’s good at this kind of thing.”

Sam smiled. “Thanks, B’Elanna.”

“That’s okay.”

“I guess I better be going. The tiredness is going to kick in any moment now.”

B’Elanna grinned. “Okay. Good night, Sam.”

“Good night, B’Elanna.”

Watching Sam leave, B’Elanna let out a sigh. That has to be the first time I’ve tried to console another woman, she thought. And that wasn’t so bad. I’m getting quite good at this advice thing. Maybe I should quit being an engineer and become a counsellor…

“It won’t work,” came a voice.

She looked up at Tom. Had he been reading her mind?

“Relax, I’m not a telepath. You had that thinking of an idea look on your face, and I thought I’d try and spook you by pretending to know what you’re thinking.”

“How clever of you,” she said dryly.

“So what are you thinking about?” he asked, sitting down in Sam’s place.

“I just talked to Sam. I think she’s feeling kind of vulnerable at the moment.”

“Not surprised. She’s not exactly in the best situation right now. Other side of the galaxy, pregnant and without her husband. With the constant danger we’re in, it’s not exactly the best child-rearing environment.”

“Can you imagine having a child on-board here?”

“I can’t imagine having children ever.”

“Me neither. But it’ll be interesting having a child around the place. Did you know that Sam’s husband is Ktarian?”

Tom shook his head.

“Their child will be human-Ktarian. It’ll be of mixed species, like me.”

“I’m sure he or she will be amazing for it.”

“I just hope it doesn’t grow up with the same social stigma as I did.”

“Scarves wrapped around your forehead? I remember. You hated that the kids used to laugh at you.”

B’Elanna looked at him, surprised that he remembered such a thing.

“What, did you think I’d forget what you told me?”

B’Elanna shrugged. “I guess. Even though you seem to have a knack for remembering things I tell you.”

Tom grinned. “I’m not as stupid as I look.”

B’Elanna laughed. “Don’t be so sure.”

“Thanks! Anyway, I don’t think that this child will grow up like that. He or she will grow up amongst adults, for starters. And everyone knows kids can be the meanest judges. Plus, times have changed a lot since you were younger.”

“You make me sound so old.”

“You’ve just turned twenty-three. That’s definitely old.”

“Then you must be positively ancient.”

“I take that as a compliment. But, back to what I was saying, there are many mixed-species around now, and many of them have been able to adjust to being part of two completely different races. And their peers have learnt to accept them.”

B’Elanna rested her chin on her hands. “I wish I’d been one of those kids who knew how to deal with it better.”

“How were you supposed to know how? You had other problems to deal with.”

“I guess.”

“Anyway, I bet you were an adorable looking human-Klingon child.”

“My father used to think so. But then he left, so his opinion became invalid and my insecurities manifested themselves,” she said with a deep sigh.

“You never did tell me why he left.”

“That’s because when you asked I barely knew you. And you were being nosey. Really nosey.”

“I prefer the word inquisitive.”

B’Elanna smiled.

“So are you going to tell me?” he asked.

B’Elanna shrugged. Even after all these years later, the subject of her father was still a painful one.

“Honestly, Tom, I have no idea why he left. I used to think it was because of me.”

“Why?”

She shrugged again. “I was a child. He left. I thought it was because I did something wrong. Or that I was that something wrong. I had come up with so many theories that I jaded myself. Much later, when I enrolled into Starfleet, he tried to contact me.”

Tom’s eyes widened. “He did?”

“He tried to explain everything to me. But I didn’t want to hear it. So I never answered him.”

“But one day you changed your mind?” he questioned.

Grimly, she nodded. “When I was drowning, I was so sure that I was going to die, and I realized that I would die not knowing what he had to say. And that seemed pretty wasteful.”

Something dawned on him. “You wanted to send a subspace message afterwards. Was that to him?”

She nodded. “A few days after, I tried to send one to him. And my mother, too. But I think they got lost because of the temperament we were in. I never got an indication from either that they’d received it. And I never got the chance to try again.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Yeah. It is.”

“If we get home, do you think you’d try again?”

She shrugged again. “I’m not sure,” she replied honestly. “Part of me is scared of what he has to say.”

“If you don’t try, you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting it.”

“I know,” she said quietly.

Tom wrapped his hands around hers. “I know you had a tough childhood, B’Elanna. But I’m sure you were an amazing child, and that your father loved you very much. The fact he tried to contact you, suggests he still thinks about you. And I bet he thinks about you everyday.”

“I hope so,” she said softly. “Because I think about him everyday. And my mother, and the bridges we never got to mend.”

“We’ll get home,” he assured her.

“I just hope it’s not too late when we do,” she whispered.

Chapter Thirteen

***

A/N: Just a few notes about B’Elanna and her father:

Most of what is said follows on from what happened in “Pathways.” B’Elanna’s father does try and contact her, and she ignores him. Later, she tries to send him a message. Jeri Taylor wrote this book around season four, and afterwards the canon diverged somewhat from this book. Therefore, B’Elanna’s actions in season seven’s episode “Lineage” would probably differ somewhat, knowing that her father had tried to make amends and make her understand what happened. But that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t feel insecure about the issue, and I think not knowing what he had to say would still tear her up, but probably not as much as not hearing from him at all.

Also, another thing to add is that in the book, it is stated that B’Elanna sends her father and mother messages a few days after her accident, but then her ship is pulled into the Delta Quadrant two days later. However, Tom is captured the day after their accident and spends seven months in prison, before joining Voyager so there is a discrepancy there. I will stick to them being pulled into the DQ seven months after their accident.