Diamond in the Rough, continued

Chapter 7

	*Damn.*
	The instant she turned the corner Leena began to think about
Ensign McCormick's cutting, yet startlingly plausible explanation of her
dysfunctional behaviour.  She blamed herself for letting it happen.
*What's the expression? 'The best way to remember something is to tell
yourself not to think about it'?*  She was getting really tired of all
this self discovery.  This was all Paris' fault; this never would have
happened if he had done his job right.  She would still have the
semblance of a normal life, blissfully unaware of how messed up she
really was.
	Could Julie be right?  Was she being so defensive around people
because she never really had a permanent home?  She hadn't considered
that the inconvenience of repeatedly making and losing friends as a kid
could develop into a psychosis.  No, that was ludicrous.  If it was that
traumatic she wouldn't be able to make friends with anyone, and that
certainly wasn't the case.  She'd made friends with people before Julie. 
McCormick didn't know what she was talking about.  Leena walked into her
cabin, confident that she had figured out the flaw in Julie's argument. 
All she needed now was a quick shower and a hot meal and she'd be ready
to deal with her misconduct on the bridge.
	"Hah!  So much for your pathetic armchair analysis, Miss Freud!
'I'm so honoured you chose me.'  You act like you're my only friend on
the whole ship.  Well, I've got news for you.  I know plenty of people
on *Voyager*.  There's Walter Baxter...well, I guess he's more of an
acquaintance than a friend...no, I thought Lise and Greta were kind of
annoying...um...I never really knew Molina, he just used to join us for
volleyball on occasion...."
	Slowly, the impact of what she was saying hit her.  Of course she
knew these people, but they weren't her friends.  They were *their*
friends.  Wilton's.  June's.  Raon's.
	Leena turned off the sonic shower and carefully leaned against the
stall.  Baxter, Molina, the others...they were but a few people she knew
only by association with her real friends.  She hadn't put much effort
into getting to know them much more than in passing.  She only tolerated
their presence because either Wilton, June or Raon would invite them to
join their various outings.  It wasn't like she hated them, she
just...well, one thing or another would stand out that put her on guard.
	"Oh, my god."  Leena buried her head in her hands.  She assumed
her wariness was a result of her defensive training.  Now it looked like
Julie's theory was a more likely explanation.  It certainly made more
sense, especially considering her behaviour following the Badlands
incident.  With her three closest friends gone, the agony of losing
those relationships yet again forced her into retreat.  Everything was
falling into place, and it made her ill.  "Just...just calm down, Leena.
Take a deep breath.  You're strong.  You can work through this."  She
shivered against the cold reality that was setting in.
	She stepped out of the shower and slipped into her robe and
slippers.  The sick feeling still remained.  Memories of the Badlands
and the Caretaker forced her to relive the moments of helplessness, the
uncertainty of her survival, then the discovery that she was suddenly on
her own again.  And all she did in response was to run away and hide and
hope that everything would solve itself without her intervention.  She
never even tried talking about their deaths with any of their friends.
Maybe it would have been better if she had died instead.  At least she
would have died relatively happy, and hardly anyone would have regretted
the loss.
	It was pointless to think that way, though.  Whether they deserved
to die or not, whether she deserved to die or not, this was how it
turned out.  She couldn't change the past, no matter how much she wished
it.  All she could do was deal with the present.  There was just one
problem with that, however.  *Could* she deal with the present?
	'If you're lucky you run into people who care enough to help
you....'  McCormick's words echoed in her mind.  She didn't have to do
this alone.  Juile was already offering her support.  Then there was
*him*.  Leena would probably welcome the ensign's assistance, but Paris
was a different story.  His notion of help carried a price she wasn't
sure she wanted to pay, even though both he and Julie encouraged her to
do it.  It didn't help that her wariness of the lieutenant could be due
to a psychological defense mechanism.  If Julie was right, she actually
*wanted* a relationship with him.  Sure, he had some redeeming
qualities, but he was almost as messed up as she was.  On the other
hand, he sort of knew what she was going through.  He'd know how to
guide her through the process of recovery.  They had more in common than
she first thought.  Of course, that didn't mean they were meant to be
together, but perhaps there was enough there to forge a respectful
friendship.  That was if she could keep a level of objectivity.
*Sometimes the greatest accomplishments are achieved by a leap of
faith.*
	Leena suddenly remembered her plans to eat in the mess hall.  She
was actually grateful for the distraction.  She needed some time to
build up her courage.  Making a leap of faith might have been the right
thing to do, but it didn't make it any easier.

	Tom watched with satisfaction as the black ball glided smoothly
across the table's felt surface and dropped into the pocket, making it
his fourth straight win since he had picked up a stick this evening.
Good fortune was smiling on him.  Hell, he'd been on an amazing run of
luck recently: first bad, then good, and down and up again like an
amusement park ride.  Daydreaming on the bridge led him to encounter a
very attractive, *very* resentful woman.  The challenge to correct her
behaviour was daunting, but worth the risk: sharing a skeleton from his
closet had earned him a grudging respect and a tentative friendship.
Now the recent crisis with the away team had been allayed in a most
satisfying manner.  He dared not pinch himself in case this was all a
dream.
	He cued in on the sound of creaking metal hinges.  Turning, Tom
spotted a figure standing in the doorway, silhouetted by a dusty shaft
of light breaking in from outside.  The door swathed the beam of light
as it swivelled close, allowing Tom to place the new patron.  The sight
of Leena Calloway both surprised and stirred him.  For the first time
since they'd met she wasn't wearing her uniform.  He ran a double take
to make sure he wasn't mistaking her for someone else, but there was no
denying it.  He followed her with his eyes as she walked to the bar and
ordered a drink, recognizing the same movements of her tall, shapely
form.  Had the temperature in the room suddenly risen?
	Tom felt his heart thud against his chest in spite of himself.  He
hadn't experienced a case of nerves like this since he developed a crush
on his seventh-grade teacher.  Leena just looked so completely
different, like undergoing some miraculous transformation into the most
alluring, feminine creature in the universe.  Her hair certainly did
look better down, casually brushing over her shoulders.  Her form
fitting, forest-green top looked like it was made of crushed velvet, so
it showed off her body as much as it concealed.  He ducked away as her
head turned in his direction, embarrassed that he might be caught
staring.  God, he felt like that schoolboy again.  He tried focusing on
the table set-up instead, but he had a difficult time concentrating on
the game.
	Leena knew Tom had been watching her the moment she entered the
tavern.  She wondered how she ever convinced herself to wear this outfit
in the first place.  This inevitable conversation with him still
disquieted her, so she'd take any advantage she could get.  If only the
outfit she selected didn't make her feel so sleazy.  She took a drink
from her Singapore sling, lamenting that the illusory beverage couldn't
help bolster her confidence.  She glanced over her shoulder just in time
to catch Tom looking away.  Apparently her choice of apparel was
effective.  Reassured, Leena drained half of her glass and made her way
to the pool table, where Tom was lining up a shot.  *Well, here goes
nothing.*  "Good evening, Mr. Paris."
	Tom nearly scratched his shot, so caught up in trying not to pay
attention to her that he hadn't noticed her come up behind him.  He shut
his eyes and stifled a frustrated sigh.  He looked ready to fly apart at
the seams, but in the next moment his composure fell back into place.
She found that quite remarkable, though she had to remind herself that
he'd probably had plenty of experience socializing with beautiful women.
"Hello, Calloway," he replied insouciantly.  He turned away from the
table.  "That's a new look for you.  Not bad."
	The remark made Leena conscious of her appearance again, making
her blush.  "Um, thanks.  How's the pool going?  Are you winning?"
	Tom looked back at the table just in time to see Gaunt Gary put
the finishing touches on the game he had just scrubbed.  He grimaced.
"At one time I was.  Say, care for a game?  I'll even spot you three
balls to start."
	The thought of giving Tom the pleasure of watching her bend over
the table did not pass well.  She would lose her advantage too easily
that way.  "No, thank you.  I know a hustle when I hear one.  Perhaps
you'd like to join me for a drink, though?"
	"Now how could I pass up an offer like that?"  Tom flashed a
beguiling smile at her as he rested his cue stick on the table and
shoved his hands into the rear pockets of his slacks.
	*Damn, why did he have to do that?*  Leena could only manage a
timid smile in return.  Tom obviously had a lot more practice at awkward
situations like these and knew how to handle himself.  She tried to plot
another course of action as she found a place to sit.  A few moments
later Tom joined her at a semi-secluded table, a mug of draught ale in
hand.
	"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company tonight,
Lieutenant?"
	"Coincidence mostly.  I didn't even know you'd be here.  I just
came for a drink, something to do.  I've got a bit of spare time these
days, you know.  Lieutenant Tuvok did not exactly appreciate my sense of
tact regarding the commander."
	"Ah."  He began to laugh, despite his best efforts to stay
neutral.
	"What's so funny?" she asked, both curious and a little annoyed.
	"Sorry, but there was a point when I thought you'd literally
explode.  Chakotay even looked afraid for his life for a moment there.
What was that old saying?  'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'?
He'll be thinking twice about any decision he makes when you're within
eyeshot."
	Leena pictured Commander Chakotay scurrying for cover like a field
mouse at her appearance, and the image made her laugh as well.  "I guess
there *are* some advantages to being taller than your commanding
officer."  She felt a little better with the release of tension.
Perhaps she could make it through this evening after all.  She just had
to believe in herself.  "I can still hardly believe this."
	"What?"
	"That I'm sitting here with you, having a conversation about
nothing in particular.  A few weeks ago I wouldn't have been caught dead
in the same room with you.  Ironic, isn't it?"
	"Well, you won't hear me complaining."
	"I feel like a complete idiot, though.  I believed you were the
one with the reprehensible personality, not me."
	"Not being too hard on yourself, are you?  Hey, we all make
mistakes.  How else are we expected to learn right from wrong if we
don't screw up once in a while?"
	"I'll remember you said that."  Tom had just given her a fantastic
opening.  She hesitated a moment, though.  Was this what she really
wanted to do?  Well, he had just given her all the justification she
needed.  She wouldn't know if she were making a terrible mistake
otherwise.  "I'd like to know if you'd like to have dinner some time."
	Tom had been about to get up to order another drink when she
finally spoke.  He froze half-crouched over the table.  "Come again?"
	"If I'm going screw up I might as well do it in grand fashion.  Is
tomorrow night all right?"
	Tom fell back into his chair.  He shook his head vigorously.  "I
must be hallucinating.  Did I hear that right?  You're asking *me* out
on a date?"
	"That's what you wanted, wasn't it: an opportunity to prove
yourself worthy?  Well, here's your chance."  She stood up.  "One date.
I choose where and when we meet.  If you pass muster I'll consider
dating you again, otherwise you never bother me again.  Is that
acceptable?"
	Tom was still shell-shocked from this unexpected role reversal.
"Uh...yeah, sure."
	Leena grinned.  "Great.  I'll let you know as soon as I've
scheduled some time for one of the holodecks.  Enjoy the rest of your
evening, Tom."

	Tom watched her leave the tavern, and continued to stare at the
doors for minutes afterward.  Not one muscle moved the entire time, not
until Harry finally approached him.  "Tom, are you all right?  You
haven't moved an inch since I've come in."
	A stupid grin appeared on the lieutenant's face.  "She called me
Tom."

Epilogue

	Leena walked into the mess hall showing more confidence than she
actually felt.  She knew she had to do this eventually, but was she
really ready for it now?  Attaining closure for such sensitive issues
could be strenuous, drawn out procedures, and she was already dealing
with many complicated problems.  If she tried to take on too many things
at once her problems would only get worse.
	She spotted him sitting amongst a gaggle of chattering crewmen,
both Maquis and Starfleet, and he appeared to be enjoying the
conversation immensely.  She didn't seem surprised.  He had always been
a laid back individual.  A little too laid back, she had thought once.
Now she could see that it was his approach to bonding with others.  His
manner, his posture, the way he talked - it was all non-threatening, an
open signal that he was willing to give any stranger the benefit of a
doubt.  Perhaps it was a good idea to approach him first after all.
"Lieutenant Baxter, could I have a moment of your time?"
	The parlance all but died out in response to the sudden
disruption.  Walter Baxter diverted his attention from the group.
Recognizing the face of the inquisitor and her sombre expression, his
smile diminished to a fraction of its normal self, replaced by a pensive
curiosity.  He excused himself, addressing the table without looking
back.  "I'll be back in a minute, fellas."  At Leena's direction, they
moved to a more sequestered table.  "What can I do for you, Lieutenant?"
	"Please, Leena will do; technically I'm not on duty right now."
	"Okay, Leena.  I'm Walter.  What's up?"
	"I, uh, have a favour I wanted to ask."
	"What kind of favour?"
	"Uh, well, this is kind of difficult to ask."  The room seemed to
be getting uncomfortably warm.  *Quit stonewalling.  Just get it out.*
"Please tell me what you remember about Wilton Suombattu."

End Stage II