Promises, Promises

by
Darrel W. Beach
Mar. 1999

Chapter 8

	Tom plunked himself into a chair in the mess hall after a long day
on duty.  He expected it, of course.  Strained relationships always had the
effect of making your day less enjoyable, and he had two of them to contend
with at the same time.  B'Elanna wasn't speaking to him and Harry was
behaving as though his dog had just died, and Tom knew that both of their
behaviours had the same source.  Leave it to Murphy's Law to allow the
worst possible outcome to happen when he least wanted it.
	He looked toward the galley as Neelix's chipper voice drifted
within earshot.  Harry had walked in, still looking forlorn, and Neelix was
making it his business as morale officer to lift his spirits.  Tom didn't
think he'd get very far.  Sure enough, Harry shuffled off into a subdued
area of the dining room not looking any brighter.  It ate Tom up to see his
best friend wallowing in self-pity.  He got up and quietly worked his way
to Harry's table.  "So how's the souffle?"
	"Don't know.  I'm not very hungry."
	Tom sat down and was encouraged that Harry didn't ask him to leave.
"I really didn't want to do it, you know."
	"I know.  Seven told me."  Harry let that hang in the air for a
moment.  Tom waited, hoping to draw him out.  Finally the ensign looked up.
"It's kind of incredible, though.  You really had no say in it?  I'd think
you'd have found a way out if you really wanted."
	"Have you ever known a Borg to take 'no' for an answer?"
	Harry's stare got a little harder.  "She's not Borg anymore,
remember?"
	"Harry, she still thinks and acts like one.  She may not be part of
the Collective or go around assimilating people, but in the ways that count
she's still Borg.  Her way of thinking is different from ours.  You can't
deny that."
	"Well, maybe you're right."  Harry left it at that.  To admit that
Tom was right would be like letting him off the hook, and he wasn't sure if
he was ready to forgive him yet.
	"You're mad at me because Seven asked me instead of you, aren't
you?  No, don't answer that.  Of course you are.  I'd be mad at me, too."
Tom nervously shifted.  "I really tried to convince her that you were a
better choice, honest I did.  She just didn't want to scare you
off...again."
	Harry noticed the long break and suddenly realised the implication.
He sunk a little deeper into his chair.  "She told you."
	"Um, yeah, she did.  Don't worry, this will just be our little
secret, I promise."
	"Yeah, until Seven decides to tell someone else," Harry muttered.
"I think now's a good time to forget about her. I haven't got a chance of
getting her to feel the same way about me anyway."
	Tom laughed nervously.  "Funny you should mention that, Harry...."
	"Is this seat taken?"
	Harry and Tom both looked up in surprise at Seven.  "Uh, how long
have you been standing there, Seven?" Harry asked meekly.
	"If you are concerned about the privacy of your discussion with
Lieutenant Paris, do not worry.  I just arrived.  I only heard the
lieutenant's last utterance."  She sat down beside the ensign with a plate
of nutritional supplements.  Tom breathed a silent sigh of relief.
	The conversation remained dormant for a long moment, however.
Neither Tom nor Harry wanted to pick up their discussion with Seven in
attendance.  Seven, similarly, still felt awkward about engaging anyone in
social parlance.  Her previous attempts already that day had not fared much
success.  She simply stared in consternation at the meal in front of her.
	Harry noticed it but was reluctant to ask what was bothering her.
He shifted a glance at Tom, who was trying hard to look elsewhere other
than at the two occupants at his table.  He'd get no out from the
lieutenant.  Bearing down, Harry forged ahead.  "You look troubled, Seven.
Got a problem you can't figure out?"
	"You are correct, Ensign.  I have tried talking to Lieutenant
Torres several times today about the prior evening, but so far I have
failed miserably.  She has repeatedly refused to grant me audience."
	"That's B'Elanna all right; stubborn as a mule," Tom sighed.
	Seven looked up at the lieutenant.  "Are you certain she will not
speak to you instead?"
	Tom snorted.  "I highly doubt it, Seven.  Whatever she feels about
you will be five times worse for me.  I bet she still feels like bashing my
head in."
	Harry twisted his napkin into a knot.  "Look, let me try talking to
her, okay?"
	Tom looked at him as if he'd just sprouted antennae.  "Harry?"
	"You would do this for us, Ensign," Seven stated more than asked.
"Why?"
	"None of this should have happened."  He looked at Tom.  "I know
you lied to B'Elanna about the flying lessons, but we had no right to break
into your quarters.  Neither of us were thinking.  One quick call over the
comm line could have prevented all of this.  I should have known better."
	Tom couldn't keep his mouth from hanging open.  "Gosh, Harry, I
don't know what to say."
	Seven, however, had that covered.  Hesitantly she leaned over and
placed a light kiss on Harry's cheek. Tom gasped in amused disbelief.
	She broke the kiss and placed a hand on one of Harry's.  "Thank
you, Ensign.  Your assistance is greatly appreciated."
	Harry was completely flustered.  Tom imagined his infatuation with
her was returning in full force.  The ensign nervously cleared his throat.
"Any-anytime."  He got up and left, leaving his half-eaten dinner at the
table.
	Seven ate.  Tom stared incredulously as Harry walked out of the
mess hall, inattentive of everyone he passed along the way.  "Where'd you
learn to do that?" he asked.
	"I read that a kiss, when applied correctly, can be used to convey
gratitude."  She looked at Tom with concern.  "I hope I did not do it
wrong."
	"I doubt that Harry would have noticed the difference anyway if you
had."

			*	*	*

	Harry walked into Engineering and carefully looked around for
Lieutenant Torres.  The engine room was almost deserted.  He wondered what
kind of maintenance was being performed at this time of night.  He stopped
in front of the warp drive assembly, watching the incandescent swirls of
energy create kaleidoscopic patterns.  Of all things, he was feeling
guilty.  He and B'Elanna were nearly as responsible for this mess as Tom
and Seven were.  They had broken into Tom's cabin on the spur of B'Elanna's
mistrust and quick temper.  Had they contacted him over the comm instead of
chasing him around the ship the situation would probably not have escalated
to such an extreme disaster.  And here he was in the unlikely role as
mediator, about to confront a person he'd prefer to avoid right now.
	Lieutenant Carey spotted the ensign from the chief engineer's
station.  "Can I help you, Harry?"
	Harry looked to his left and smiled as Carey approached.  "Oh, hi,
Joe.  I just came down to see B'Elanna.  Know where she is?"
	A sharp clatter of metal and a hail of Klingon profanities cut off
Joe's answer.  He grinned sheepishly a chucked a thumb in the direction of
the profanity.  "Over there.  Good luck."
	Harry sighed.  He would have preferred to talk to B'Elanna in a
better mood, but he had to resign himself to the fact that sour moods were
practically her natural condition.  "Thanks...I think."  He walked over to
an open access hatch.  He heard Torres curse again, confirming her location
within the Jefferies Tube.  He knelt down and poked his head through the
entrance.  "Hey, how's it going in there?"
	"Oh, just peachy, Harry," she grumbled, frowning as she analysed
the readings on her tricorder.  She grabbed a tool and thrust her arm back
into the maze of conduits, connectors and relays.
	"Working late, huh?"
	"The ship isn't going to fix itself."
	"Need a hand?"
	"Not really, but I suppose it would speed things up."
	Harry crawled into the access tunnel with the uneasy feeling of
approaching a cornered animal.  Sidling up to her, he looked at the type of
repairs she was working on and frowned.  "These only look like minor
problems, B'Elanna.  I'm sure someone from one of the relief crews could
have handled this."
	Torres stopped her repairs and stared coolly at the ensign.  The
animal was preparing to defend itself.  "Does this conversation have a
point?"
	"This is what you've been doing with Seven, isn't it?  Creating
busywork for yourself so you wouldn't have to talk to her."
	She stiffened.  "Tom convinced you to speak for them, didn't he?  I
thought you'd have known better after what happened last night."
	"Tom didn't have to convince me of anything.  We broke into his
quarters, remember?  Last time I remember that was still considered against
regulations, not to mention an invasion of privacy."
	"You ought to know that two people in a relationship can't keep
secrets from each other."
	"That doesn't excuse what you did."
	B'Elanna slammed the instrument in her hand onto the deck plate
with a resounding thump.  "Harry, he cheated on me and lied to me about it. 
I was stupid to think he'd ever be serious about a committed relationship;
he lets his dick make all his decisions for him."
	Harry rankled a bit at her vulgarity and stubbornness.  "If you
could stop for a minute and take the time to hear them out, you'd find out
that Tom didn't do any of the things you're accusing him of.  In fact, Tom
didn't have a choice in what happened; it was all Seven's idea."
	"And you bought that?  Harry, of all the excuses Tom could have
come up with, that has got to be the lamest."
	"I didn't find out from Tom, B'Elanna.  Seven told me."
	B'Elanna switched off the harmonic phase adjuster in her hand.
Doubt worked its way into her ridged brow.  "Seven told you that?"
	"Tom made some kind of promise a while back to help her adjust to
her new life.  That's who she went to see when her hormonal drive began
reasserting themselves.  He tried to back out of it but she wouldn't let
him.  Ask her yourself if you don't believe me."
	She huddled there quietly, obviously trying to come to grips with
the information presented.  Harry wondered just how much of a battle it was
for her to integrate it into her own perception of events, if she even
accepted it.  It was true that B'Elanna usually had firmly set ideas on the
way that things should be.  Changing her opinion about anything required a
lot of patience and proof.  She suddenly turned back to the jumble of
circuitry and cables and resumed her work.  For a moment Harry thought she
was ignoring him.  "On second thought, Harry, I won't need your help after
all.  I've got things under control here."
	Harry couldn't tell by her reaction what she had decided, but he
wasn't about to press.  "Sure, okay.  I'll see you tomorrow then."
	"Hm," she mumbled in reply.

			*	*	*

	For the first time in several days, the dreams did not invade
Seven's consciousness.  While the last 33 hours had been wildly
unpredictable and distressing, a benefit had been achieved.  Lieutenant
Paris' unorthodox bedding session had helped stabilise her condition.  A
quick recovery now seemed imminent.  She would remember to thank him for
fulfilling his promise...away from the company of Lieutenant Torres, of
course.
	Her regeneration was suddenly and unpleasantly terminated by an
external input command.  Seven opened her eyes to view the culprit.  The
stern visage of Lieutenant Torres looked back at her.  "Is it true, what
Harry said?"
	"That would depend entirely upon what Ensign Kim reported.  I have
not spoken to him since the last meal period."
	The lieutenant looked slightly annoyed.  "You were the one to
propose getting intimate with Tom?"
	"Yes."
	"Because of some lame promise he made a while back?"
	"I believe Lieutenant Paris' sincerity was genuine at the time he
made the promise, but it is clear that he was not prepared for the full
implications of that act."
	"So he really tried to decline your proposal, but you wouldn't let
him?"
	"Yes.  In retrospect I should not have enforced his participation
so stringently.  I did not anticipate the level of irrationality of the
persons involved."
	Lieutenant Torres dug her nails into her palms, struggling to avoid
making a rude remark.  For someone with such a volatile disposition the
feat was indeed impressive.  Of equal concern to Seven, though, was how
quickly she ired in the first place.  Lieutenant Torres always seemed to
become agitated rather quickly when she conversed with her, but then the
lieutenant had quite openly declared her contempt of her in their prior
meetings.  "Well, the next time you feel like balling someone's brains out,
try masturbating.  We'll all be better off."  Without waiting for a reply,
the lieutenant turned around and stomped out of the cargo bay.
	The bluntness of the suggestion set Seven back a little as she
watched the engineer leave.  She comprehended the definition of
masturbation, though honestly what it meant deeply troubled her.  She
didn't know if the lieutenant was supportive of her plight or simply
hostile and vindictive.  Either way, it appeared that the issue had been
resolved between them.  Seven could now concentrate on other matters with
more efficiency.  She also made a mental note to invest some time into
researching more about masturbation.

Epilogue

	Seven continued categorising blocks of data from the latest set of
logs created by the improved astrometric sensors.  Many humans would have
considered it a chore, but she found it a rewarding result of her
abilities.  She also didn't consider herself to be human, either, at least
in the comparison to those around her.  The individuals that comprised the
crew of *Voyager* -- some a great deal more than others -- still defied
comprehension.  However, at least with Captain Janeway's tutelage she knew
how to tolerate their bizarre behaviours, even if she couldn't understand
them.
	The hiss of compressed air forced her to stop work and look over at
the entrance.  "Ensign Kim, your presence was not expected.  Why are you
here?"
	The ensign smiled timidly.  "Neelix wanted me check up on you.  He
got worried when you didn't show up for dinner."
	"An unintentional delay, I assure you.  I was deeply immersed in my
current activities."
	"'Time flies when you're having fun', huh?"
	"I suppose that is one way of putting it."
	"Well, Neelix will have a fit if I don't return to the mess hall
without you.  Feel like taking a break?"
	How she felt was irrelevant.  The break would be necessary, though,
now that her body was becoming more accustomed to processing the nutrients
of real food.  She did not want to risk upsetting the Doctor again after
the last time he'd caught her skipping meals.  She saved the data and
turned off the console.  "I am ready."  In an act of chivalry the ensign
allowed her passage into the corridor first.
	The walk was quiet.  Seven was content to bear it out, but Ensign
Kim likely found it difficult.  The Doctor's lessons in socialising suited
the situation well.  She detested doing it.  Unfortunately, the Doctor
stressed the importance of employing as often as she could to get
accustomed to the behaviour and develop a rapport with the crew.  It would
be easier with the ensign, though, considering the numerous times they had
already worked together.  "Have Lieutenants Torres and Paris made a
reconciliation yet?  I have not had the occasion to speak to either of them
about it in the last two days."
	Ensign Kim did not look any more comfortable.  "Uh, not exactly.
B'Elanna's still a little sore with Tom about the whole thing.  I'm not
really sure when it'll blow over.  Tom's got his work cut out for him."
	"Lieutenant Paris is a persistent individual.  As long as he views
the situation as not impossible to overcome, he will not give up."  They
stepped inside a turbolift and headed toward the mess hall.  Seven watched
Ensign Kim.  He still looked to be in distress.  "Is there something
further you want to discuss, Ensign?"
	"Uh," he swallowed.  "How's that problem of yours coming?"
	"I have fully recovered.  The Doctor gave me a positive report of
health during my check-up yesterday."
	"That's...good to hear, Seven."
	Seven looked at him quizzically.  "You do not sound all that glad,
Ensign.  It is obvious that you are still physically attracted to me.
Perhaps you wish I had not stabilised so quickly."
	He blushed and stammered.  "No, really, I'm glad you're okay."  A
few seconds passed awkwardly.  "If...if it happens again, though, I'd be
willing to, uh...help...you."
	"That is kind of you to offer, but that will no longer be
necessary."
	"Uh, it isn't?"
	"That's correct.  During my discussion with Lieutenant Torres she
suggested I try masturbation to curb my sexual impulses.  After researching
the technique I have discovered it to be vastly more efficient than
intercourse."
	The turbolift stopped, the doors opening on Deck 2.  Seven took
three steps out and realised the ensign was not accompanying her.  She
looked back into the turbolift, where Ensign Kim, once again looking sickly
pallid, leaned against the wall of the car.  "Are you feeling all right,
Ensign?  I could escort you to Sickbay if you would like.  It is not that
far away from the mess hall."
	"N-no, that's...that's okay.  I think I just need to lie down in my
quarters for a while."  With a shaking hand, Ensign Kim pressed a button,
and the turbolift doors mercifully closed shut.

En