Title:  Tension
Author:  Julie Evans
Email:  Juli17@aol.com
Series:  VOY
Part:  1/1
Rating:  PG13
Codes:  P/T
Date posted:  11/7/00
Summary:  A missing scene to the episode "Repression."

Disclaimer:  Star Trek and its characters are the property of
Paramount/Viacom.  I am borrowing them for fun only not profit.

Archiving:  Okay to archive to the ASC, PT Collective Archive and
BLTS.  All others please ask author for permission.

Notes:  This was one of those episodes that had an intriguing premise,
but failed in the execution (IMO), especially at the end. The former
Maquis clearly had no qualms or reservations about taking over Voyager
and exiling most of the crew permanently on a Delta quadrant planet.
Did the former Maquis forget the past seven years of their lives on
Voyager and relationships--be they friendships, romances, and in at least
one case, marriage--with the non-Maquis members of the crew?  Or did
something in the mind control technique just make them not care about
their friends, lovers--and in one case, husband's--fates?  Did they have
any discomfort or regret over their actions once Tuvok "reversed" his
mind melds, or did everyone just go on their merry ways as if the
Maquis uprising never happened, as seemed to be implied by the quick
conclusion of the episode?  In this brief scene I don't answer these
questions except as they directly affected Tom and B'Elanna's
relationship ;-)

by Julie Evans

Paris-Torres quarters, 2341 hours:

Tom was in their quarters waiting for B'Elanna.  It had been over six
hours since he had been released from confinement on Deck six along
with Harry and two dozen other crewmembers, after which he'd
immediately been summoned to the bridge.  The brainwashed Maquis
had all been sent to Sickbay so the doctor could verify that Tuvok's
follow up mind melds had completely expunged the involuntary
suggestions implanted by the original mind melds.  Immediately
afterward the captain had requested that all department heads report to
their posts as assurance that standard operations had resumed.  Though
the Maquis mutineers hadn't sabotaged any equipment, there were a lot
of readjustments to be made, and at the helm Tom had rerouted
Voyager's course away from the class M planet Chakotay had diverted
to with the intention of forcing the non-Maquis crewmembers into
permanent exile.

An hour after everything on Voyager had returned to "normal," or as
close as it could get under the circumstances, the captain had given a
shipwide briefing.  She'd quickly explained Vedek Teero's original
assault on Tuvok, and how a subliminal message had been sent in a
datastream letter, activating the seven year old implanted indoctrination
in Tuvok's brain and forcing him to mind meld with the former Maquis
to revive the Vedek's "holy war."  She'd denounced Vedek Teero as an
unstable man and a terrorist who'd used Tuvok and the former Maquis
on Voyager to further his aims in a fight that no longer existed, and had
emphasized that neither Tuvok nor any of the former Maquis had acted
of their own free will.

While the captain was speaking to the crew, alternately using reason and
reassurance to calm the frayed nerves, Tom had glanced at Tuvok.
Tuvok's expression had been impassive, but he'd twitched once or twice
as Janeway spoke, obviously regretting his forced role, and accepting
what he would probably consider an invasion of his privacy with as
much grace as he could.

Just as no one blamed Tuvok, Tom knew no one placed any blame on
the former Maquis either.  But there had been some residual tension as
everyone had retaken their original posts, as the Maquis and Starfleeters
who hours earlier had been engaged in a struggle for the ship began
working together again.  Most of the former Maquis had been
uncomfortable and even a little embarrassed, though everyone had done
their best to smooth over the incident and move on.  At the captain's
request the department heads had met with and reassured their
subordinates, as Tom had done with his pilots, several of whom were
former Maquis.

The ship had remained at high activity for several hours while everyone
had regrouped, hoping this odd day--twelve hours of what could
definitely be termed a very "weird" part of the job--would be forgotten
soon enough.  Tom had overheard part of the captain's conversation with
Chakotay, and he'd heard Chakotay tell her that even under the mind
control he'd known when and where he was.  He'd remembered
everything that had happened during the past nearly seven years on
Voyager, but it simply hadn't mattered.  His mind had only been able to
focus on the fanatical devotion he'd felt to the Maquis cause.

They'd known what they were doing, but they just couldn't stop
themselves.  It reminded Tom uncomfortably of the same situation he'd
been in just a year ago.

Tom knew that B'Elanna had certainly had her hands full reintegrating
her engineering staff, over a dozen of whom were Maquis, including
herself.  He'd hoped that she wasn't having any problems, and he'd called
from the bridge, wanting to speak to her even it was just for a minute.
But she'd been too busy to talk, according to Sue Nicoletti.  He'd
wondered briefly if she just didn't want to talk to him yet.

And now he'd been in their quarters for nearly two hours waiting for her.
He'd replicated a quick meal--a bowl of tomato soup had covered the
extent of his appetite--and had reviewed the day's helm department
reports.  Then he'd flipped on the television briefly, but he'd been too
distracted to pay much attention.  Finally he'd requested some jazz
selections from his music collection, and had picked up his datapadd
containing an old Earth novel he'd started reading, hoping the
combination would relax him a little while he waited.

Since they were married now, neither he nor B'Elanna had separate
quarters to retreat to when their relationship became strained.  Knowing
them they weren't going to avoid that happening on occasion, though
their five-week marriage had been going very smoothly so far.  The
events today had obviously caused some strain while they were
happening, though from his view it was all meaningless since B'Elanna
hadn't had any choice about her actions.  He just didn't know if B'Elanna
felt the same way, since he hadn't talked to her yet.  And he was starting
to wonder if she was going to spend all night in Engineering to avoid

He'd just given up on making any headway in "The Three Musketeers"
when the door slid open and she finally walked in.  Walked in was not
quite accurate.  Stormed in was more like it.  Even so, he was relieved to
see her.

She was still wearing her Maquis uniform.  No one had taken the time to
change during the first hour or two after the "mutiny" had been averted,
though once everything had settled down Tuvok and Chakotay had both
left the bridge and had returned shortly in their Starfleet uniforms.
B'Elanna hadn't ever left Engineering, and he wondered how her staff
had taken seeing her in that outfit all evening, though he knew both the
former Maquis and Starfleeters alike were very loyal to her.  She was
not easy on her engineering staff, but she was honest and fair, and they
respected her for it, Maquis rebellion notwithstanding.

"Hey," he said softly as she approached the couch where he was sitting.

She didn't stop, but at least she acknowledged him as she passed with a
quick glance, and a curt, "hey" in return.  She tore off her leather Maquis
vest as she strode into the bedroom.  He stood up and followed her,
picking up the vest that had fallen to the floor behind her.

"Is everything okay in Engineering?"

"Back to normal," she said shortly as she moved toward the closet,
yanking her shirt out of her pants.

"Are *you* okay?" he asked, as she reached down and started removing
one of her leather boots.

"Fine," she said in the same brusque, uncommunicative tone.  She
grunted as she pulled off one boot, and then fell backwards, sitting hard
on the bed.  She didn't pay much attention; she just started tugging at her
other boot.  Tom crouched down and pulled it off before she could stop

He looked up at her as he set the boot aside.  Then he said the first thing
that popped into his head.  "Hey, did I ever tell you how great you look
in this outfit?"

It was a dismal attempt to break through the tension he felt between
them, and B'Elanna speared him with a hard glare before she stood
abruptly, almost hitting him in the face with her knee as she pushed past

He stood quickly.  "B'Elanna..."

She turned her back to him and started pulling off her pants, affording
him a view of her backside clad in black silk that he couldn't completely
appreciate at the moment.  He tried again.  "I'm sorry.  I know that was a
feeble comment.  I guess I'm just a little tense."

B'Elanna didn't respond.   She just kicked aside her pants, and started on
the buttons of her shirt.  He sighed.  For the first time since they'd been
married, he felt her holding him at an intentional emotional distance.  If
they did still have separate quarters, he was sure she'd be in hers right
now--alone.  And in the past when she'd retreated that way he'd usually
put up little more than a token resistance.  "Do you want me to leave?"
he asked, his voice soft.

Her hands stopped in mid-motion, and she turned to stare at him.  It felt
like the first real test of truly sharing their lives with each other, and for
a moment he thought she might say "yes."  That would have left him
with a dilemma, because his offer had been an empty one.  He didn't
plan on going anywhere.  But after several seconds her hands dropped,
and she shook her head slowly.  "I'm the one who should be sorry," she
said quietly.

"For what?" Tom asked.  "It wasn't your fault.  Tuvok's mind meld
forced you to act against your will.  I know you couldn't control what
you were doing."

B'Elanna shrugged out of the shirt before she spoke again in low, gruff
voice.  "It was like I was in a trance.  I knew somewhere in the back of
my mind that we had no enemies on Voyager anymore, that the people
we were fighting against had been our friends for the past seven years."
She paused before she added with a wry twist of her lips, "I even knew
that you and I were married."

"You did?" Tom asked, though he'd assumed so from Chakotay's
comments to Janeway.

B'Elanna frowned at the crumpled shirt in her hand.  "I just didn't...care.
When I came back here and changed into my Maquis uniform, I saw
your things and my things together--but it didn't mean anything to me.  It
barely even registered.  All I could think about was the Maquis cause.  I
was convinced that everyone who wasn't Maquis was my enemy, and
that we had to take over Voyager and...dispose of all the Starfleeters."

"Including me," Tom said softly.  The whole time he'd been in
confinement on Deck six, all he'd been thinking about was finding some
way to escape, so he could find B'Elanna.  He'd assumed that he would
somehow be miraculously able to get through to the *real* her, that the
nature of their relationship would give him the power to reach her when
others couldn't be reached.  Maybe he should be glad he never got the
chance to find out whether he would have succeeded or failed.  His lips
curved into a rueful smile.  "We've been married for barely a month and
you were ready to exile me on that class M planet.  I didn't think you'd
get tired of me *that* fast."

B'Elanna gave him an annoyed look, clearly not amused at his attempt at
levity.  "That's not funny, Tom."

Tom sighed.  "I know.  I'm doing it again."  Being flip when his
emotions made him uncomfortable.  He didn't have to say it out loud,
because B'Elanna knew him that well.  "Sorry."  He reached out and
touched her arm lightly.  "B'Elanna, I do understand what it's like to be
forced to act in a way you wish you could take back.  And wish you
didn't have to remember."

B'Elanna looked at him blankly.

"Alice," Tom reminded her.  "She made me do things I definitely
regretted later.  Deeply."  He met B'Elanna's knowing look, and he
reached into the inner pocket of his uniform jacket.  "So you do want
this back?" he asked, holding his hand out to her.

B'Elanna looked at her wedding ring resting in his open palm, her
expression wistful.  "I don't remember taking it off, but I must have
when I came here to get my Maquis uniform.  I realized a while ago in
Engineering that I wasn't wearing it."

"It found it on the bedside table," Tom told her.  "Would you please put
it back on so I feel a little less insecure?"

There was a note of entreaty in his voice, and B'Elanna gave him a
small, genuine smile as she plucked the ring from his palm and slipped it
back on her finger.  "There.  Better?"

Tom smiled back and squeezed her hand, rubbing the ring on her finger
lightly with his thumb.  "Much."  He dropped a quick kiss on her
forehead.  "Thanks."

"I just put it back where it belongs," B'Elanna replied softly.  "But you're
welcome."  Then she slipped her hand from his, a little reluctantly he
thought, and started gathering up the clothing strewn on the floor around
her.  She paused once she'd piled them in her arms, and her expression
was pensive.

"What are you thinking?" Tom asked.

"That I should throw these in the recycler."

Tom frowned.  "Why would you do that?"

B'Elanna shrugged.  "Because I don't need them anymore.  Despite what
happened today, that part of my life is over now.  I'll never have reason
to wear these clothes again."

Tom heard the determination in her voice.  "But you remember some of
it fondly, B'Elanna.  You made friends there, and you were always
acting on your principles.  You don't have anything to be ashamed of."

B'Elanna's eyes narrowed a little.  "I'm not ashamed.  And I'm not sorry I
joined the Maquis.  They were--are my friends.  But the whole Maquis
rebellion, it's in the past, whether one crazy Vedek thinks so or not.  It's
all ancient history, especially on Voyager.  Some of my closest friends
here are hard and fast Starfleet.  Harry, Sue, Joe.  And you are."

B'Elanna's voice was matter-of-fact, and Tom nodded.  They had talked
about that issue once, not long after they'd first started dating.  He had
admitted to B'Elanna that he'd joined the Maquis simply for the chance
to fly a real ship again, and for money to pay off his bar bills.  But he'd
also told her that if he hadn't been captured so quickly, he might well
have taken the cause to heart.  He'd sympathized with their struggle then,
and still did.  But he'd never had the chance to get in deep enough to
make that choice, or to forge any real bonds with individual Maquis,
which might have made the choice for him.  On Voyager he'd been
pegged Starfleet from day one, and if he'd been forced to take a side in
those earliest days--if there had been a *real* Maquis rebellion--he
would have stood with Captain Janeway without hesitation.  B'Elanna
knew all of that, and she accepted it.

"You're not doing it because of me?" Tom asked, wondering if she
thought it would be some kind of penance for the attempted mutiny,
even though she hadn't had any control over her actions.  "Because you
know I respect your Maquis ties, and I don't question your loyalties,
B'Elanna, then, or now."

"I know," B'Elanna said.  "But after what happened today, I just thought
it might be better to get rid of them."

"What happened today was an anomaly," Tom said.  "Like you said, the
Maquis cause doesn't exist anymore.  But even if you'll never wear your
Maquis uniform again, that doesn't mean you shouldn't keep it as a
reminder of the good things you got from your time in the Maquis."  He
held out a hand.  "Why don't I put those in the refresher instead."

B'Elanna looked thoughtful, and then she nodded slowly in assent and
handed the clothing to him.  "Thanks."

Tom deposited the clothing in the refresher while B'Elanna retrieved her
boots and put them in the closet.  When she turned around again, he was
right there, so close behind her that she almost smacked into him.  He
put his hands on her shoulders, and felt the tension that was still there.
"B'Elanna, I know it's been a pretty rotten day," he said as he kneaded
her tight muscles gently.  He certainly hadn't enjoyed the hours of being
confined on Deck six, not knowing what was going on, and not being
able to take action, except for that one unsuccessful escape attempt.

"Make that a rotten two days," Tom corrected.  He'd enjoyed even less
seeing B'Elanna confined to Sickbay for thirty hours, unconscious for
most of it, even though he'd been reassured by the full recovery of the
other Maquis, mysterious as that recovery had been at the time.  "But it's
in the past now."

B'Elanna nodded.  "I know.  It's just a little unnerving that after nearly
seven years, the animosities all came back to the surface so...easily."

"They were forced back," Tom reminded her.  "When I was on the
bridge earlier everyone was a still little uncomfortable, but there wasn't
any real tension or animosity.  Not like there was seven years ago.  And
nobody's placing any blame."

"It was like that in Engineering too," B'Elanna said.  "Everyone was
cooperative and understanding, but they were also still a little edgy."
She shook her head.  "I don't think we can just pretend that it never
happened, Tom."

Maybe not, though Tom knew some, like the captain, would like to do
just that.  "We don't have to pretend that it never happened," he said.
"But we can dismiss it for what it was, an aberration caused by
someone's sick mind.  In fact, the captain's so eager to get everyone back
at ease after this that she asked me about my movie theater

B'Elanna raised her eyebrows at that.  "Really?"

"She thinks I should run it tomorrow evening to give everyone who's
interested the chance to unwind and have some fun." Tom grinned.
"Hey, there's nothing like a good monster flick to make you forget your
own problems."

B'Elanna snorted skeptically, though she looked amused.  "I don't know
about that, but I did like the holoprogram, even though we had to leave

"You did?" he asked.  Not that he was really surprised.  B'Elanna didn't
care for most of his role-playing programs, since dressing up and
pretending to be someone else really wasn't her thing.  But she did find
some facets of twentieth century culture interesting, like the television,
and tinkering with and driving cars.  "So you liked the movie."

"We hardly saw any of it," she pointed out.  "But I was enjoying
the...other activity we were pursuing before our time was cut short."

"Ah, the *other* activity," Tom drawled.

"Which will be a problem now if half the crew is in the program too,"
B'Elanna said, sounding just a little peeved.

"That will be a little limiting," Tom admitted.  His lips quirked, and his
fingers massaged her neck in sure strokes.  "We can always pursue that
particular activity right now."

"I don't know if it will be quite the same," B'Elanna said.

"Why not?"  He smiled at her persuasively.  "Just pretend we're in the
movie theater, and monster is chasing screaming people in the
background.  What would you be doing?"

"Wearing more clothes," B'Elanna said dryly.

Tom looked down at the black silk camisole and panties she was
wearing.  He smirked.  "And here I was envisioning you wearing less."

B'Elanna's eyebrows rose.  "I think that can be arranged," she said
resting her hands on his shoulders.

"Uh huh..." Tom murmured, more than willing to help in that endeavor.
He forgot about the holoprogram as he bent forward to kiss her.  Then he
paused in mid-motion and looked at her intently for several moments.
"I'm glad you're back, B'Elanna," he finally said softly, as he lowered his
head again.

"And I'm glad you're here," B'Elanna whispered, right before his lips
met hers.

It was a warm, unhurried kiss, gentle and undemanding, a simple sharing
of affection--a welcome home after a long and difficult day.  As
B'Elanna pressed her body closely to his, Tom felt her muscles relax and
the tension finally ease fully out of her.  At that he completely relaxed
too, and the last bit of his tension melted away.