High Paramount owns Star Trek, Tom and B’Elanna – even Plomeek soup. I’m just borrowing them.  "High" is a wonderful song: Recorded by the Lighthouse Family. Written by Tucker/Bayweu  There’s a fair amount of reference to early Season 5 of Voyager – this may not make sense unless you’re familiar with those events. Feedback and especially constructive criticism are welcome.     Rated: PG-13 (a little bit of angst) Author: JanF AnthSullivan@bigpond.com   When you're close to tears, remember Someday it will all be over One day we're gonna get so high And though it's darker than December What's ahead is a different colour One day we're gonna get so high To say things had not being going well lately for B’Elanna and himself would be an understatement. It seemed that no sooner did they pick themselves up from one near-tragedy than another would intervene. Tom knew that if it wasn't for their stubborn natures their time together would have been over long ago. But they hadn’t given up and they were still together, which must mean something. B’Elanna. When he was a child his dreams had been dreams of escape. To escape his father’s constant loving criticism. To escape from the room he was in, studying subjects for an entrance exam he didn’t really want to take. Once grown, and with a life far worse than any nightmare he could have conjured up in his childish imagination, he had taken refuge in the arms of women. Many women. Now all he wanted was to remain with the woman he loved. How times changed. They had lost and found each other again so many times in the last few months. The Delta Quadrant wasn’t enough to deal with – they had their own personal challenges as well. First his withdrawal into the holodeck – spending weeks working on a car that existed only in his imagination - that had been one smooth move. But he could justify that to himself – he had been scared. She had gotten so far under his skin he was afraid. Afraid for her that he would mess things up once more, afraid for himself that she didn’t truly know him well enough to love him.  If only he had known how fragile she could be…   And at the end of the day  We’ll remember the days When we were close to the edge And we’ll wonder how we made it through the night They had seemed to recover for a while. Then she had become more and more withdrawn as they had crossed that void, fighting harder and harder. Months in the dark, nothing to do but argue. This time, though, he had not run away. The garage programme had stayed untouched in the computer memory. Even confrontation was better than letting her withdraw, as he had done. Better to fight than to lose her completely. No sex. Their sex life had always been great, better than great – fantastic... then it had just faded into the background. He had thought it was just the normal ups and downs of any relationship. They’d worked out the years of sexual frustration and were just settling into the "comfortable" phase. Except it hadn’t been at all comfortable. They had fought over little things - what to do with the evening, what food to replicate, who left the towel on the floor - even how often she wanted to run the Klingon programmes compared to old favourites like Lake Como ... After the fighting they would go their separate ways…to separate quarters. Again, Tom had told himself that all would be well, that things would sort themselves out, that she just needed space as he had once done.  He still asked himself how he would have coped had she died while he left her that space? It had hurt when he finally admitted to himself what her holodeck programmes meant. Hurting herself, healing herself with techniques he had shown her how to use on him after some of their rougher sessions. She hadn’t been able to tell him. How could he have missed her depression? He hadn’t missed it though, had he? He had known, he just hadn’t wanted to admit the depth of what had been going wrong. He had been afraid to lose her and had tried to ignore it. It was easy to believe that once Engineering needed her again she would perk up, it was the darkness that was driving her mad,things would get better in time. She had almost died while he was waiting for things to fix themselves. Thank goodness they had discovered what had happened. B’Elanna’s grief, or self-perceived lack thereof for the fallen Maquis, her frustration with not being able to do anything – when doing was how she usually dealt with problems. It had taken time for her to admit to herself the damage she had done, was doing to herself. Again Tom fought the urge to retreat away, suppressed the feeling of betrayal that she had not confided in him. Stayed as close as she needed him to be. Slowly, slowly they began to recover. Dinner began to be a regular event once more; laughter gradually returned from that deep dark well from where it had been drowning. One date they had been driving in the Camaro (B’Elanna had made it clear that Captain Proton’s presence would not be welcome) when B’Elanna had stopped the car. She had snuggled into his arms (God he had missed her touch, her warmth, her physical presence in his life…). When he felt her kisses turn into playful nips that progressively turned into more aggressive foreplay he felt like the galaxy had been given back to him.     At the end of the day Remember the way We stayed so close to the end We'll remember it was me and you Then he had almost lost her again. To see that creature try to suck the life out of her whilst people had an ethics debate over her wasting body… They had talked in their relationship about building shuttlecraft, talked a small amount about their past histories, talked about Harry’s love-life or lack of it. Life and death decisions had not really been a hot topic. It was too real. Both had stood over the other’s broken bodies as the Holodoc struggled to heal devastating injuries against seemingly insurmountable odds. Talking about death and disability had seemed somewhat redundant. Most members of Voyager’s crew either lived or died from injuries sustained in the course of duty. B’Elanna’s attacker and her mode of salvation had posed the first major medical debate on Voyager. It had been so obvious to him. The people who had suffered at the hands of her potential healer had perished long ago, so could it truly be so wrong to use their misfortune, which no one could now undo, to save someone’s life? The life of someone who would never have condoned the method by which it was sought?  When B’Elanna had told him she didn’t want treatment it was easy to lie to himself. She was too sick to understand what was happening. She didn’t understand really, what was at stake. She couldn’t have understood that if she died he would be alone and he wasn’t quite sure he could live with that. Tom still didn’t know what he would have done had she been completely lucid throughout the experience and continued to insist on her fatal decision. He could only hope he could have convinced her otherwise. Or else have the knowledge that she had really made that decision rationally. B’Elanna’s anger had been so intense at being alive. She had been angry with both the Captain and Tom for a while. Slowly she was forgiving Tom, but her relationship with the Captain had suffered. The warmth they had once shared had cooled considerably. Another obstacle, another solution. It had taken more time, but they persisted. Each time they fell down they picked the other up and dusted each other off. When they could bring themselves to draw on the other’s presence they found a strength that neither of them had known before. It was a comfort. It was warm. It was an affirmation Tom had never known.   Cause we are gonna be Forever, you and me You will  Always keep it flying high in the sky Of love The sea had been his first love – the idea of the ocean, rolling onwards, the beginning of all life on Earth. The stories of times past, travelling across the unknown with only the stars as a guide. Once he knew that his dreams of the Federation Naval Patrol were just that – dreams – Tom had tried to reconcile himself to a life in Starfleet.  That was when he discovered flying. Tom’s love of flying had been instant. Not quite the romance of the sea but the pure tactile sensation of beating gravity, flowing with air currents or solar winds gave him a new joy. It was a sensual experience for him. It was the compensation for giving up his dreams. The planet of the Moneans had allowed him to return to his childhood fantasy – it was his skills learnt as a pilot that had given him hope that he could help. Again he had tried his best – and then he failed. Failed to convince the Captain that the ocean was worth preserving, failed to make her see that there were Moneans who cared about the ocean, too.  Don't you think it's time we started Doing what we always wanted One day we're gonna get so high Cause even the impossible Is easy when we got each other One day we're gonna get so high It was B’Elanna who had saved him from his despair on the Holodeck. All of Starfleet’s principles and ideals had seemed so … small compared to that great big, beautiful ocean. He had known what the right thing to do was … but it was only B’Elanna’s encouragement that had finally tipped the balance. She believed in him. She believed that he could make a difference. As he bemoaned the fact that Captain Proton could not come to the rescue she had looked at him and asked:   "What about Tom Paris?" He knew he had never loved her more than when she had said those words. It had cost both of them dearly. He would not quickly forget the look of relief in B’Elanna’s eyes when he emerged from the Delta Flyer relatively unscathed, or her expression of anger as Tuvok’s security guards seized him and marched him toward Janeway’s Ready Room. He had tried to smile his encouragement to her but he knew it had looked faked. He was angry and he was scared.  One look at Janeway’s face and he saw an uncanny echo of his father. Up until this time Tom had seen very little of his father’s influence on his Captain – she had been much more of a warm, caring parental figure than his father had been in a very long time. But in the Ready Room, with disappointment and disapproval etched across her features Tom was reminded of his father as Tom had confessed to his lies about Caldik Prime. Demotion and Thirty Days in solitary. It could have been worse, but not by much. His imprisonment was taken up by thoughts of disappointing his family at home yet again and his resentment at the Captain’s attitude towards him (Bread and water? This WAS the twenty-fourth century? Did she really think that by cutting off all decent food he would never disobey an order again?) … and with missing B’Elanna. Harry, the Doc ...even Neelix was allowed to see him. It was almost as if though the Captain had sensed who had encouraged him and was punishing her as well. He couldn’t sleep as well without B’Elanna there beside him, missed her company, longed to share his latest about improving the Delta Flyer, ached to touch her beautiful hair, to see her smile travel up into her eyes. He wondered if B’Elanna was missing him, too. He worried for her. Was she still having those nightmares about the Maquis? Was she still improving on those treatments for her depression? Had Seven finally driven her around the bend? Would she still remember that she loved him? The last time he had been incarcerated his major adjustment had been remaining well and truly earth-bound. His nightmares revolved around never being able to fly again. This time another fear secretly gripped his heart… what if B’Elanna’s feelings changed once again while he was away? What if she learnt to live without him? Being released was not the pleasure he thought it might have been. He had some trepidation about returning to the Bridge. Tom was still not sure how he would react to the Captain. He had not seen her in thirty days, either. The level of trust and understanding they had developed since she had removed him from the New Zealand penal colony had been undermined on both sides.  It was once he was back in his quarters that he knew things were going to be okay. B’Elanna had made sure he knew that at least things between them were all right. Her comm signal and "order" to dinner had made everything fine. He could live with the disgust of his Captain, he could handle the atmosphere on the bridge, he could even face the mess-hall once again just as long as she was still with him. And at the end of the day remember the days When we were close to the edge And wonder how we made it through the night At the end of the day Remember the way We stayed so close to the end We'll remember it was me and you Cause we are gonna be Forever, you and me You will  Always keep it flying high in the sky Of love This time there was no slow rebuilding, no tentative steps forward. This time there was a joyous reunion. It gave Tom hope. Hope that the long lonely nights were behind him - behind them in fact. Hope that they would always be together, that they would forever be part of each other’s heart. He was not naïve enough to believe that their troubles were entirely behind them. Tom knew that with B’Elanna’s love and support he could survive anything. The Captain could ground him, Voyager could lose power forever, they could all be sucked into a gravity well … but while he was with B’Elanna he would never be earth-bound again. She would keep him flying high…in a different sky… a sky of love. The End Liked it? Email me: AnthSullivan@bigpond.com