Oh, and of course, all the characters in this tale belong to Paramount and Viacom.   All that is, but those who people the ancient lore of Greece.   They belong to the whole human race.

My gratitude  to Styx, for their apropos song.

Finally, thanks to Robbie McNeill and Roxanne Dawson, for putting such spark into two of the most appealing characters on television.
 

Cupid
 

 The doors of the holodeck wooshed softly behind her as B'Elanna entered.  She stopped,  a little bewildered by the program which was already in progress.  Late that afternoon Neelix had asked her to help him put the finishing touches on a program he had been working on.  She had suggested he talk to Tom, since holodeck programming was the Conn officer's forte.
 Neelix had just shaken his head and said that this called for a woman's touch.  She  studied the sturdy Talaxian briefly before agreeing.  She hadn't believed him for a moment, but  she knew that he was up to something and a combination of curiosity, boredom and loneliness  had made her decide to say yes.
 A soft breeze caressed her cheek.  Two moons, one full and silver, the other crescent and golden, rode the distant horizon.   An ocean stretched before her, calm but for the eternal ebb and flow of  waves greeting the shore.   The engineer in her knew that on whatever planet this program was emulating, the waves were being driven by the gravitational pull of the moons.  The woman in her sighed softly at the beauty which lay before her.
 As her eyes scanned the beach, she saw a lone figure, sitting with his back to her, his arms stretched out behind him in support.  He gave no indication that he was aware she was there.
 Even in the soft twilight of early evening, she knew this was not Neelix.  The light from the moons gave a silvery sheen to the dark blonde, not quite red hair.  She allowed herself a brief moment to wonder what it was doing to those incredibly blue eyes, before she shut that thought down with a firm snap.
 She almost turned and walked away.  Obviously she had misunderstood Neelix and gone to the wrong holodeck or gotten the wrong time.  She was intruding on Tom's very private holodeck time.  But something about the man sitting there caused her to pause.  There was an almost palpable aura of sadness surrounding him.  It wasn't the first time she had sensed it.  It always seemed to be lying there, just under the surface.
 He usually hid it quite well.  Only a few knew that there was  much more to the man than what he allowed others to see.  Harry, the captain.  Herself.  And now here, away from everyone, thinking himself alone, Tom allowed the sadness free reign.
 Almost without thought, she moved forward with a feline grace, dropping silently to the sand about ten feet away from and a little behind him.   He was still seemingly oblivious to her presence.  That was fine.  She would sit for a few minutes, then leave.
It wasn't like she had anywhere special to go.  She settled back to watch the moons and the ocean and listen to the song that was playing softly in the background.
            A tiny smile crept to her face.  Late twentieth century music.  Tom was enamored of that era, though she never understood why.  He had told her once with a lusty grin on his face that it held the fascination of fast cars, good times and loose women.  She had just shaken her head.  Three years ago she would have believed that without question.  Now, she knew better.
 The previous song had finished, and a new one was beginning.  The tinkling keys of a piano filled the air, seeming to roll in rhythm with the gentle pounding of the surf.  A man's voice sang out,
 
 "I'm sailing away, set an open course for the virgin sea.
 'Cause I've got to be free.  Free to face the life that's ahead of me."
 
 She listened to the words and her smile broadened.  She could at least understand why Tom liked this song.  It was almost as if it were his personal anthem.
 
 "I look to the sea, reflections in the waves spark my memories.
 Some happy, some sad.
 I think of childhood friends and the dreams we had.
 We lived happily forever, so the story goes.
 But somehow we missed out on the pot of gold.
 But we'll try, best that we can, to carry on,"
 
 The plaintive voice was one of  acceptance tinged with sorrow and regret.  She was right.  It was Tom's anthem in more ways than one.  The tempo was changing, becoming more upbeat.  The singer now spoke of angels and hope.
 
 "I thought that they were angels,
 but to my surprise,
 we climbed aboard their starship,
 we headed for the skies.
 Come sail away, come sail away, come sail away with me."
 
 As the final words repeated themselves over and over, she gave her head a small shake.  Three hundred years later and this song still had meaning.  For the first time  she began to feel a part of the common thread that had run through the history of the human race on Earth.
 "Didn't  you like it, B'Elanna?" Tom's voice startled her.  She had almost forgotten where she was.
 "I didn't think you knew I was here." she said.  He still hadn't turned around.  In fact he hadn't moved at all.
 "I smelled  your perfume."  He dropped it at that, not telling her that he could scent the woodsy fragrance wafting to him wherever she was, on the bridge, in the mess hall, in his dreams.
 "I...I hadn't realized it was so strong.  I'll tone it down in the future."
 "Don't," he said, rolling over to stretch out on his side, supporting his head with his hand.  "It's not too strong.  In fact, it's very subtle.  I just notice it, that's all."  He stared at her and she caught her breath when she saw what those moons were doing to the color of those eyes.
  She hesitated, not sure what to say.  There seemed to be a vulnerability to both of them tonight, something neither of them was accustomed to.  She felt awkward and a little scared, and the warrior in her hated feeling like that.  She caught her temper rising in a quick flare and fought it down viciously.  Tom didn't say anything.  He  seemed to be aware of the internal battle she was fighting.
 Finally, she gained the control she sought, and looked away from him to the ocean. She moved to  stretch out on the beach in a position similar to his.  Their movements  had shortened the distance between them.  They were now about eight feet apart.
 "Yes, I liked it.  The song I mean.  Who sang it?"
 "A group called Styx."
 "Sticks?  Like from a tree?"
 He chuckled.  "No. S T Y X , as in the River Styx from ancient Greek mythology."
 "Oh," she gave a half shrug, "I never got into ancient myths much, unless they were Klingon and being rammed down my throat by my mother."
 "Well," he said,  "Your mother would have loved the Greek myths.  They were full of honor and betrayal, heroes and villains, violence and war."
 "Oh yeah?  Like what?"
 "Oh, there was Prometheus, who stole fire from the gods and gave it to man, thus enraging the gods.  As punishment, he was bound to a rock, where birds came and pecked out his liver everyday.  Except it grew back overnight, and he had to endure the agony again the next day, through eternity."
 B'Elanna's eyes grew wide at the story.  "This is an Earth myth?" she asked.
 Tom's eyes crinkled in amusement.  "We are basically a violent people, B'El.  Our whole history is written in blood.  It's only recently, the past few centuries, that reason has begun to dominate over fury.  Speaking of fury, you'd love the stories about them.  The Furies, I mean."
 In his enthusiasm,  he sat up and leaned forward.  She imitated his motion and now  only about six feet separated them.
 As the moons traversed the sky, he told her tales of ancient glory.  Of  Jason and the Golden Fleece.  Of Aeneas and his trip to Hades.  As he described Aeneas' journey across the River Styx, she interrupted him.
 "That  song was sung by a group who called themselves after a river of death?" she asked incredulously.
 He shrugged with a grin, "Looking back on what the various groups from that era called themselves, I have decided that there was no rhyme or reason.  There were names like Black Sabbath and Smashing Pumpkins."
 B'Elanna shook at head at the follies and foibles of her ancestors.  Her ancestors.  In spite of what her mother told her, these were partially her ancestors.  These stories Tom was telling her were as much a part of her as the tales of the mighty Kahles her mother used to recite.  She slid down in the sand, stretching out on her belly and resting her head on her folded arms.
 "So go on, what did Aeneas do then?"
 Tom slid down, matching her position.  The movement put them within four feet of each other.  Neither of them noticed that the normal allotted holodeck time had come and gone.  No one from outside interrupted them.  So Tom continued his tales, describing how  Aeneas gave a sop to the three-headed dog Cerberus to get past the gate to Hades so he could find his father.  And he told her how Theseus beat the Minotaur in his maze.  Then finally he began the stories of Hercules.
 "Their heroes were all flawed in some way,"  B'Elanna said, pushing herself up to stretch.  Tom watched the curve of her breasts reflected in the moonlight as she curled seductively in on herself, then twisted back around like a cat.   Feeling a sudden need to stretch himself, he sat up looking away from her to the ocean.
 "Yes, they were.  The Greeks loved tragedy as much as they loved heroism.  They saw it as part of life.  They accepted that both man and the gods were imperfect.  The driving force was to see if man could learn from his imperfections and move on."
 B'Elanna watched his profile for a moment, still drinking in the depth of the man before her.  How, she pondered, could his father not have understood him?  How could he have written off the man his son was to become?
 Her body moved forward, seemingly of its own volition.  Tom, turning to see why she was being so quiet, looked questioningly at her.  They were now less than two feet apart.
 "Didn't they have any love stories?" she asked.
 He pulled himself away from staring into the velvet brown depths of her eyes.   "Some.  Most of them were tragic.  Lovers separated by family or fate.  Cupid and Psyche, Hero and Leander."
 "Tell me," she demanded.  He bit his lip to keep from smiling at the command in her voice.   It was no wonder ensigns everywhere cowered in the corner when she was around.  He told her of the tragic tale of Hero and Leander.  Of Psyche's fight with Venus for  the love of Cupid.  She listened in rapt attention, only stopping him when he began the epic love story of  Troy.
 "Wait, his name was Paris?" she interrupted with a bubble of laughter.
 "Honest, B'El, his name was Paris," Tom grinned back at her.
 "So what did Paris do," she asked, leaning forward.  There was no longer a distance between them.  They sat cross legged, facing each other, their knees touching.
 "He was a bit of a scoundrel, actually,"  Tom said, with a rueful smile.  "He fell in love with another man's wife, and kidnapped her, causing a war between their city states that lasted for years."
 "Why?  I mean, what made her so special that he would do that?"
 He studied her face for a moment.
 "It was said she was the most beautiful woman ever to have lived."   His voice was soft, seductive, almost a whisper.
 "Oh,"  she looked at him spellbound.   "What did she look like?"
 "I would guess that she had large dark brown eyes that shot fire and smoke, and lips that begged to be kissed," he answered as he leaned forward to capture her mouth with his.  After a moment, he reluctantly pulled back and looked at her, his eyes searching.
 Her own eyes were filled with wonder, and apprehension, and more than a spark of mischief as she reached to trace a finger first along her lips, then his.
 "Then this Paris,"  she whispered  huskily, dropping her finger from his lips to run it along his jaw.  "He must have had eyes the color of the sky."
 Tom's eyes flashed for one brief second before he reached to pull her against him.
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 Neelix and Harry grinned at each other, slapping a high five, before  Harry called out the command to engage privacy lock on Holodeck Two, giving his own authorization code.  The monitor, which would not operate when the privacy lock was on, blinked out.
 "Well, I must say, I didn't think it would work," the gravely voice behind them said cheerfully.
 "How could it not, Captain?" the Talaxian bubbled.  "We knew that all we had to do was to get them together with no one else around.  If ever there were two people meant for each other..."
 "Yes, well, let's just see how things turn out," she said cautiously, not wanting to burst the bubbles of the two Cupids sitting before her, but also fully aware of the volatile nature of the two lieutenants.  Even so, Kathryn Janeway  was finding it hard to keep the grin off her face.
 She had  found Neelix and Harry  hidden away in this obscure corner of the engineering deck nearly an hour ago, when she had gone to the mess hall looking for Neelix.  After learning that no one had seen him for a couple of hours,  she had requested his location from the computer.  Puzzled that he would be on the engineering deck  at all, she had headed straight for him to find out what was going on.
  As soon as she realized that he and Harry were monitoring  the two lieutenants on the holodeck, she rounded on them furiously.  Voyeurism would not to be tolerated on her ship.  She was about to throw them in the brig when Neelix finally convinced her to listen to him for a moment.
 "Captain, it's like this.  Harry and I have noticed that Tom has been getting more and more depressed and withdrawn since he and Lieutenant Torres went through that incident in the mines, you know,  when we were looking for the galacite."
 Janeway did not need a reminder of what had happened there.  While she hadn't been privy to all the details, (she believed no one but Tom and B'Elanna ever would), she had learned enough to hope that there was something there for her two head strong lieutenants. But as time had passed, they had grown increasingly estranged, until she had reluctantly given up that hope.
 " And as far as Lieutenant Torres, well, let's just say that her temper is very well honed."
 Again, Janeway did not need to be told.  Nearly every ensign in engineering had been to her ready room at least once in the past few weeks, half of them in tears.
 "So, " the Talaxian continued, "Harry and I decided to take things into our own hands.  You know, kind of help them along?  So when Tom told Harry he planned to spend some time alone on the holodeck tonight, we reserved the time slots  right after Tom's, so  they wouldn't be disturbed for a long time. Then we tricked Lieutenant Torres into going there.  And you see how things are working  out?"   He  pointed at the monitor where the two sat talking on the beach,  beaming at  both the images and the captain  fondly.
 Kathryn had found herself twisting her lips to hide her smile, then gave up and grinned back at him.  Beside her, Harry had let out a small sigh of relief.
 "But what made you think she'd stay?" Janeway asked.
 Harry just shrugged.  "We figured we had a fifty-fifty chance, maybe better.  We knew that she would really want to stay.  We just weren't sure she was ready to admit it."
 The Captain glanced at the screen, noting that the distance between Tom and B'Elanna had closed to a couple of feet.  As she listened to the sound of Tom's voice reciting the myths of long ago, she understood the appeal of the folk lorist or storyteller.  She wondered why that art form had been allowed to die.
 So she had joined the two conspirators, sternly pushing aside the guilt she was feeling for spying on two of her best officers..
 Now she looked at her co-conspirators with a wink.
 'You know of course, that with those two together there will never be a  moment's peace around here?"  she asked.
 It was Harry's turn to grin.  "Yes, Ma'am, I think you're right."