Title: The Effect You Have On Me

Author: Isabelle S.

Series: Voyager

Pairing: P/f, All

Parts: 1/4

Rating: R for language & adult matter subject(nothing graphic).

Disclaimer: Star Trek: Voyager doesn't belong to me. It never

did, it never will. It belongs to Paramount

Archive: Sure, just tell me where.

Author's note: Just to let you know that in this story the HOW

things happen is not as important as the WHY things happen.

Synopsis: A dangerous acquaintance of Tom's shows up on Voyager.

The Effect You Have On Me

By Isabelle S.- synbou@hotmail.com


I didn't need to be the empath that I was to sense that Commander

Chakotay was attracted to me. In fact, he wasn't the only man

who was, but Tom surely wasn't the one.

"You still haven't told us how you managed to find your way into

the Delta Quadrant, Ms Danya," the Native American reminded me

with a smile.

"That's easy," came Tom's voice more icy than anyone in this room

had ever heard. "She made a pack with the Devil. Here to finish

the job?"

"Sort of," I replied.

Voyager's senior staff looked from Tom to me stunned by his

comment. The commander stiffen beside me. I felt Janeway's

growing concern and her sudden need to be protective of Tom.

Torres was getting defensive. Young Harry was still unsure of

how to feel. The Vulcan was ready for anything. However, they

did not know that it was impossible to interfere with my work.

I stepped closer to Tom. He was holding my gaze with a placid

face. His crystal blue eyes were as cold as winter. Hell had

frozen over, burying a good and decent young man under its icy

surface. Sadly, I was partially responsible.

In the drama that I was creating in the middle of Voyager's

bridge, he and I took center stage. He was standing tall with a

sense of self-respect which he certainly didn't have the last


we'd met. With a glare as dangerous as an icepick, he hushed

our audience to be quiet. This was between him and I.

"Do you know how much the *Devil* offered me all those years

ago?" I challenged him.

Tom didn't reply. I wasn't expecting him to do so.

"He offered me 250 000 credits for me to kill you. I was able

rise the bid to half a million. When I found you at Sandrine's,

I realized that I would even have the pleasure of fucking that

beautiful sensual body of yours all night for the same price."

As I circled around him like vulture, I took in a deep breath and

allowed myself a short laugh at the irony of the situation that

*I* had complicated.

"When the critical moment came, I found myself with a bit of a

problem because there was *one* thing that I hadn't expected. I

hadn't expected to find such a gentle soul in you, Tom Paris."

He snorted.

Aside from the confusion and the concern they were feeling, I

sensed a common sadness in his colleagues and friends in the face

of his reaction. They knew what I was talking about. Of course,

Tom wouldn't take my word for it. I couldn't blame him. Still,

I went on with my confession nonetheless.

"As we laid in bed, I let you fall asleep. There were no need

for you to be awake for what I had to do anyway. Even more

compelling, I felt that you didn't deserve to be. I caressed

your warm cheek as I enjoyed the sight of your handsome face for

a few more minutes. It got me thinking -- a big mistake, I know.

But I couldn't stop myself.

"There, in my arms, was laying a young man whom I was there to

kill, who was ready to return ten times over the smallest amount

of comfort he could ever receive. I could feel his fears, his

doubts, his overwhelming sorrow, his self-hatred... It touched a

part deep down inside me which I had forgot was there. How could

someone so young and so beautiful could be broken like this

already? Why had I been offered 500 000 credits to kill this

troubled but sweet kid?

"Why was I feeling this way? What was it about you that was

making you so different from the others. You had triggered

something in me which I hadn't felt in almost thirty years.

"Actually, I think it was closer to twenty-five years. It

doesn't really matter. The point is that at the time I had made

a mistake. A nearly fatal mistake. I had got myself caught by

one of my target's gaze. I had froze under his assertive

scrutiny. His blue eyes were piercing through the dark. They

were full of life which his fear was only slightly dimming their


"As chaos broke through his house, his attention was directed

elsewhere. I took that moment to flee, leaving behind the cries

of children and the shining beams of firing phasers. *I* fled too

scared to even think about what had just happened to me.

"From that moment on, I made sure that I would never make a

mistake like that again. A promise that I had kept until that


"You stirred and you looked up at me. I sighed with irony as I

understood. *Your* blue eyes were the ones that had reached the

little humanity still inside me. Although, the light, which I

had seen in them, had became a barely self-sustainable flame.

"'Damn your eyes, Tom Paris' I cursed bitterly. 'They set me

off-balance.' You smiled at me. You were real proud of yourself

and I felt the urge to bite back. I put my hand around your

throat and held it thigh. "'I've been sent here to kill you, Tom

Paris. But now, I'm not quite sure what to do'.

"You stared back at me with shock and pain. I let you go. You

rolled away from me and sat on the side of the bed. 'You're not

so surprise,' I voiced, a bit taken aback by your reaction.

You shrugged. 'I have the uncanny ability to bring the worst out

of people,' you replied. 'Believe it or not,' I challenged.

'You also have the uncanny ability to bring the best out of

people too.'

"You looked at me with disbelief as you're doing now."

I stopped walking and faced him. Again, we had one of those

staring matches.

"Don't you understand? You're my ticket to redemption and I'm

ready to use it."

"Fuck you, Lady."

"I'd loved to, but it isn't gonna happen," I spitted back in his

face before he had the chance to say anything else. "The clock

is ticking and our *train* is about to leave. One doesn't live

561 years -- hell, one doesn't survive 345 of those years in my

line of work -- without knowing a few things by the rules of time

and how to go around them."

"I don't owe you anything," Tom pointed out.

"You don't have to," I replied.

In two quick movements, I viciously brought him down to his

knees. I put my hands on his temples and summoned my empathic


"Remember," I ordered him. I felt him tremble as his mind was

invaded by a nightmare long forgotten "Look. This is how we

first met. This is what you saw. Those are *your* memories."

I was ready to catch him as his body slumped forward.

"What do you want from me?" Tom asked just above a whisper.

I lifted his head so that I could meet his haunted blue eyes.

"That night, in Marseille, we talked. I asked you if there was

something that you would have been ready to live for. You told

me about this promise that you had made to yourself a long time

ago. You had tried for years to live up to it but it seemed at

one point that the harder you were trying, the worst your choices

were becoming. And yet, you would still be willing to give it

another try if you had a chance to do so."

I swallowed hard.

"But what I really learned from you, Tom Paris, was that it's

never too late to change one's mind. I can help you live up to

that promise of yours. I did it before. Please, let me help

you," I finished with a cracked voice.

His hand reached up to my cheek and he cast away a tear which I

had never felt coming. Was I really crying? I couldn't

remember the last time I had.

"Don't make me beg," I pleaded. "Please, don't make me beg."

Tom nodded and we boarded the *train of time* not a moment too




Thanks to Louise and Monica for beta-reading.

Thanks for reading

Isabelle S.


Copyrights @ September 2000.