Okay second part is now here!!
Disclaimer: Same as in the first part....
Again send any comments to 'yinta@oocities.com'
Tom was having a great night. It’d been ages since Harry, B’Ellana and he had had chance to relax together off duty for quite a while. What with all the repairs they’d had to do last week, it was nice to have some time off to just.... do nothing. Plus his tutoring of Harry was coming along nicely. He’d be able to take on B’Ellana quite evenly soon. It made him proud knowing that he’d taught Harry, that he could pass on that skill and knowledge. As much as people would talk about him, he’d rather teach Harry to play and stand his own against him than to scam him for replicator rations which was the *usual* rumor.
Sometimes though, it was nice to have that reputation still. It gave him a kind of security and shielding, stopped people from getting *too* close. He knew he should feel more at ease here than he did, I mean he was the happiest here than he’d ever been in his entire life. Sort of ironic really, when he thought about it. But too much had I taken place in that life to just forget and move on like nothing had ever happened. It was enough at the moment to just live from day-to-day, not really expecting anything, but enjoying what *did* come along.
There were still people who wouldn’t let him forget though. Those who would remind him. Whether by actually saying anything or just unspoken body-language, it was the same either way. It didn’t really bother him, even when it ended up with a trip to sickbay, or more often a session with a regenerator. The doc asked too many questions to keep coming up with new explanations. He wouldn’t let himself forget anyway so what was the difference? A couple of bruises here and there or the odd broken bone, in some respect it was the punishment he deserved anyway. It would never be enough, but it was something.
Maybe that was why he never he had never entered into a long term relationship. He’d had the chance once or twice, but the thought of committing to someone in that degree of intimacy scared him. It scared him that anyone could *want* to get that close to him. In his experience, most people stayed as far away as possible.
In his eyes, being with someone meant that you shared everything and he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t share that amount of guilt, regret....pain with anyone, it wouldn’t be fair. It was something he had to deal with on his own, in his own way. People wouldn’t understand anyway....they rarely did. That's what made one night stands so much more simpler. No messy misunderstandings, no obligations....no disappointments.
Most people still thought he and B’Ellana were going to get together and maybe in some way they would be suited. They understood each other, they were both outcasts in some way or another, both on the outskirts of society for different reasons but with the same effect. But somehow if they moved further in their relationship they would lose what they already had. They both knew that there wasn’t much point anyway. They would work fine for the start, the physical side would be great, but after a while, with nothing else there they would both drift away from each other and neither of them wanted that to happen. They treasured what they had and it was what both of them needed - a good friend. Tom certainly didn’t have enough of them to be that careless with.
Besides B’Ellana knew who was in Tom’s heart already even if they had never spoken about it out loud. They didn’t need to, she could read him like a book. She knew there was only one person that Tom wanted and that it was the one person that in all likelihood he couldn’t have. She wished he’d say something, but what would she suggest he say? She knew how difficult it would be for him, especially after he had eventually confided in her enough to tell her about some of his past. She could feel there was still stuff he hadn’t told her but she hadn’t pushed, knowing that was all he was comfortable with at that point. But she knew how difficult it would make it though, to deal with his feelings; and deal with that person.
Eventually Harry and B’Ellana gave an enormous yawn at exactly the same time. Tom laughed and reached over from where he was perched against the bar, to grab them both by a shoulder and turn them towards the door. “Home!” he mocked ordered. “Before I get put on report for corrupting two senior officers and bringing ruin upon the ship.”
“Tom!”
“No arguing, B’Ella, its an order.”
B’Ellana gave him her best *not thoroughly convinced look* which then softened into something else as her eyes caught Tom’s and then drifted over to where Chakotay was sat with the Captain. Tom followed them with his own and turned back to her with a small smile and eyes that said it all. B’Ellana smiled in return and then grabbing Harry by the arm hoisted him to the door.
“Don’t be too late yourself, Tom. Everyone needs their beauty sleep!”
Tom made a face and then called, “Meet you both in the mess hall for breakfast 0700?”
“Sure, see you then.”
After they had gone Tom turned back to the table and racked the balls again. Time for a bit of solitary practice and then he’d turn in himself. He picked up his que and aimed it. The crack rang out sharply in the quiet air of the bar. It seemed most other people had gone home as well, needing sleep before they’re next shift. He actually didn’t need that much sleep himself anymore, getting by on average about five hours a night. Most of the time he was unable to sleep much longer than that anyway. It was like he was programmed to wake up. A useful left-over from New Zealand, he mused. You couldn’t afford to sleep heavy or for very long periods at a time, you never knew who was just around the corner.
He saw the Captain leave out of the corner of his eye. Another of those 'useful skills', being aware of everything that was going on around you even if it didn’t directly involve you at the time. The chances were it would eventually he had always found. He tried not to let the thought of the Commander sat there alone bother him. Why should it? Only that it was possible that the Commander would notice him there and come over and talk. Stranger things could happen.
Oh he and the Commander got on these days, but that was more of a case of having to really. You don’t spend every day on a small starship for what was likely to be the rest of their lives
But he always felt nervous around the guy, afraid that he wasn’t measuring up. Sure he got that impression with everyone, some people were just born to be screw-ups, he'd accepted that long since. But whne it came to the Commander it was different, it was like it really mattered. With everyone else he could let it roll of his back and not bother him, a method of survival he had adopted a *long* time ago. But with *him* it didn’t work, no matter how he tried he still felt.....*needy* almost. It was like he wanted...needed the older man’s approval.
He’d hated that, when he joined the Maquis it had been that feeling that had caused Tom to behave the way he had towards Chakotay. Always rubbing him up the wrong way, provoking him, anything to avoid that feeling of need........desire.
He stopped, pulled up short, forcing the thought away. Walking around the table he tried to set up the shot from another angle. That was something he didn’t think about anymore. It wasn’t worth spending time analysing something that would never happen. He’d resigned himself to that a long time ago, right after he saw that look in his eyes. The same one everyone got when they found out who he was, heard *that* name, *his* name. You’d think he’d be used to it by now......
Oh shit. He hadn’t heard him. He’d come up so close behind him that he was sure he must have been able to hear his thoughts.
“Good evening Lieutenant.”
“Good evening, sir.” Okay, he managed a greeting, this was a good start. Just gather your thoughts, relax........
“Having a good night, Commander?”
Chakotay had carried on past Tom to the bar and ordered another drink from Sandrine.
“I am.”
Walking around the table for another shot, Tom noticed the liquid in Chakotays glass. “On the hard stuff, Commander? I didn’t think you drank alcohol.”
“I don’t usually. I just felt the need tonight.”
“Oh.” Tom didn’t press any further. The Commander’s affairs were his own business, no matter how much he wanted to be a part of them. Probably best not knowing anyway.
Chakotay watched Tom as he leant over the table and lined up his next shot. The precision that the young man showed in that simple act. The expression of concentration and grace of movement captured Chakotay.
“So Tom, are you happy playing with yourself or do you fancy a game?”
One look at Tom’s smirk told Chakotay that he had heard the unintentional connotation in his question. He grinned in return.
“You challenging me, Commander?”
“Yep.”
“Okay then.”