No Regrets - Part 5
Please see part 1 for disclaimer, codes, summary, etc.
"So, Mr. Paris, you've decided to join me? This is not
exactly what I would call first thing in the morning."
"Sorry, Doc, I got held up in the mess hall," I say
He sniffs. "Well, at least you're here now. Make yourself
comfortable on one of the biobeds. I have everything ready."
I nod and make my way over there, but that just reminds me of
something else. "Doc, I meant to ask, why did you have to
change me into that pair of pajamas? What was wrong with my
"Oh! Yes... well. You had a rather unfortunate occurrence."
Unfortunate occurrence? What was that supposed to mean? And
then all of a sudden it hits me. My legs go weak at the
knees and I have to hold onto the biobed for support.
"Oh, God... no. I wet myself?" No wonder Chakotay was too
embarrassed to look at me. Oh no, oh no, oh no!
"Mr. Paris, you did not lose control of your bladder," the
Doc is saying. Relief courses through me for all of two
seconds before an even more horrendous thought comes to me.
I pale and the Doc grabs hold of me before I can fall to the
"I-I didn't..." It's too awful to say.
The Doc seems to know what I can't bear to say. "Let me
assure you, Mr. Paris, you did not lose control of your
bladder *or* your bowels."
The relief is so great I almost sob. Straightening up, I get
myself back under control. "So, what was this unfortunate
The Doc avoids my eye. "There's no need to go into that."
I snort. "I think there is." I head over to a terminal and
bring up my medical file. There's nothing in there that will
provide me with any answers. The only thing I can think of
is that I vomited all over the place.
Yuk, what a thought. I'll bet the Commander copped some of
it too. I don't understand why the Doc hasn't put it in my
The Doc clears his throat. "I omitted to include your
embarrassing emission in your medical logs. I thought it was
for the best."
"Embarrassing emission? Look Doc, I don't know what you're
talking about and I really want to know."
"There's no need to get upset."
"I insist that you tell me. I have the right to know."
"You may prefer to live in ignorance."
"That does it, tell me... now!"
"Very well, Mr. Paris, since you insist. You... er...
The Doc gives a curt nod and reaches past me to turn off the
terminal. "Semen," he decides to add, just in case I still
wasn't sure what he meant.
The room tilts dangerously and I stagger back. "I climaxed?"
My voice is wobbly and my legs are even more so.
"Yes, Mr. Paris. Fear does strange things to people."
The Doc's comment yesterday, about my libido, now makes
sense. But Gods - no. Anything but this. Let me have been
screaming like a banshee, bawling like a baby. Anything,
anything at all, but this. No wonder Chakotay couldn't look
"Fuck!" The word is more of a screech than a cry. I
definitely used the top end of my vocal chords for that one.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Are you telling me that I came in my
pants while standing shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip with
"Yes, and I will not have profanity in my sickbay, Mr.
"Fuck!" I yell again.
"Mr. Paris, try to calm down."
"Calm down? How would you feel if you'd creamed yourself
while standing plastered against your commanding officer?"
I can remember rubbing against him now. Oh Gods, what did I
do? What did I do? I think I'm going to cry. I am
definitely going to cry.
The Doc gives a little sniff. "I really wouldn't know. In
case you've forgotten, my program doesn't enable me to
perform such a function."
"Oh Gods, how I wish I couldn't."
"Mr. Paris, you don't mean that. I'm quite certain that you
don't mean that."
"Yes, I do," I hiss. Why is there no air in here? Why can't
I breathe? Why is everything spinning around and around? I
collapse to the floor.
"What happened?" I say. I'm half lying, half sitting
awkwardly against the wall. The Doc's bending over me
saying something about deep breaths.
"You had a panic attack."
"Again?" Then I remember why I panicked and I groan. "I
can't face him ever again. Maybe you can come up with some
reason why I have to spend the rest of our journey in my
The Doc shakes his head and helps me to stand. "I think,
under the circumstances, we will have to forgo your
hypnotherapy until you feel a little better."
I nod shakily. "What am I going to do, Doc? He won't look
me in the eye." My voice wobbles dangerously and I keep my
eyes on the floor.
"The Commander is a very understanding man. He was very
concerned about you," the Doc tells me gently. "I'm sure he
realizes that when the panic seized you, you had no control
"You think so?"
"Yes, I do. The best thing you can do is get on with your
normal routine. In a few days time this will all be
"A few days?"
"Well, perhaps a little longer. But the important thing is
that the Commander understands."
"Are you sure he does?"
"Certain. Now go back to your quarters and try to relax."
I do as he says, although relaxation is impossible. The
thought of what I've done has me shaking with humiliation.
I'll never be able to look at the Commander with anything but
The Doctor has asked me to come down to sickbay. I know what
he wants, of course. He wants to discuss what I did to Tom.
I'm surprised it's taken this long. I expected to be called
in much sooner.
I should have gone and reported myself to the Captain
immediately after leaving sickbay. I told myself I wanted to
talk to Tom first, see if we could work out something between
The truth is, I was still trying to come to terms with what
I'd done. Why it'd happened. How I could have taken
advantage of Tom like that. I honestly didn't think I was
capable of it.
Tom had still been completely out of it when we'd beamed into
sickbay. His breathing was harsh and rapid, his body rigid
with shock. I'd carefully laid him down on a biobed as the
Doctor hurried over.
"We were stuck in the Alsorian's lift. I forgot about Tom's
"I see. Please move out of the way, Commander."
I stepped back and the Doctor quickly examined Tom. "He's
had a panic attack."
"Is he going to be all right?"
"Of course. I'll just prepare a sedative to help him relax."
The Doctor went to get a hypospray and I stood there looking
down at Tom. Spirits, he was pale. I wanted to take his
hand... tell him how sorry I was.
My eyes traveled down over his body and I cringed as I saw
the stains that had seeped through onto his uniform. If only
I'd had time to clean him up a little.
But there had been no time. The Alsorian officials had been
waiting for us, and the lift had moved up very quickly.
There had barely been time to even cover him.
The Doctor cleared his throat and I realized that my gaze had
been riveted to Tom's groin.
"You can go now, Commander. I have the situation completely
under control. I will clean Mr. Paris up and he will be as
good as new shortly. This... um... incident, although not
common with panic attacks, has been known to happen. I'm
sure I have your complete understanding in the matter."
"Of course," I said faintly. I thought to myself that when
the Doctor scanned Tom, he'd soon see that a lot more
happened than he first thought. He would find two completely
different traces of semen. What would happen after that was
up to Tom.
I left sickbay quickly and headed for my quarters, telling
myself that the right thing to do was to go and see the
Captain. I wasn't sure if that was what Tom would want,
though. I told myself that he was the victim and I should
leave it up to him to decide what he wanted to do to me.
It was the cowards' way out.
I've spent a sleepless night acknowledging certain things
about myself I really would rather not know. I was known for
my ruthless leadership in the Maquis and it seems as if that
ruthlessness is still within me.
If anyone else had been in that lift with me, would the same
thing have happened? If they had rubbed themselves against
me, their breath hot against my ear, would I have lost
control? The answer is no.
Why did I immediately believe that Tom's movements towards me
were of a sexual nature? Why did I so conveniently forget
about his claustrophobia? Why didn't I question that
whimper of his right at the start? He'd been trembling and
that second whimper of his had been full of fear. It's so
very clear to me now, why wasn't it then?
I admitted the truth to myself in the early hours of this
morning. I wanted it to happen, or more precisely, I wanted
him. I wanted Tom Paris. Any way I could get him.
And so, I took advantage of him in a moment of weakness. And
I'll pay for what I've done. Tom will want me charged, and I
don't blame him.
Taking a deep breath, I head for sickbay and whatever fate
awaits me there.
The Doctor beckons me into his office and closes the door.
"Thank you for coming, Commander. Please sit down."
I sit down rather shakily, waiting for the axe to fall.
"I asked you here because I need to discuss the situation
regarding Mr. Paris."
I nod. "Do you want to contact the Captain?"
The Doctor frowns. "I'm hoping to resolve this without
informing the Captain at all. She knows he had a panic
attack and, quite frankly, I think that's all she needs to
know. I take my patients privacy quite seriously,
"Tom doesn't want her told?"
"The subject never came up, but I wouldn't have thought so.
He's quite upset enough as it is."
"Then, what does he want to do?"
"He has ideas of spending the rest of his life in his
"I told him to resume his normal duties," the Doctor
continues. "I'm concerned however, Commander. I'm not sure
how he'll react the next time he sees you. He feels he can't
bear to look at you."
"I understand." I can't bear to look at myself, either.
"I'm afraid he had a rather severe reaction this morning when
I told him what had happened. He didn't remember any of it,
you see, and after I told him, he had another panic attack."
The picture of a severely traumatized Tom Paris races before
my eyes and remorse courses through me.
"What can I do?" I whisper hoarsely. Should I go to his
quarters and beg for forgiveness? Let him beat me to a pulp?
Lock myself in the brig for the rest of the trip home? I'll
do whatever I have to, to make it up to him.
"I think you should go to see him and try to reassure him,"
the Doctor says. "I told him that you would understand. But
this is more than just mere embarrassment over what he did."
I look at him in astonishment. Over what he did? What *he*
did? Shouldn't that be... what *I* did? Is he blaming
"Doctor," I say urgently. "None of this is Tom's fault."
"Of course it isn't. I knew that you would understand. Fear
does all sorts of strange things to people. In Mr. Paris's
case, with his rather over abundant sexual appetite, it
shouldn't really be surprising."
I nod in agreement. What was my excuse, however? Was the
Doctor even going to mention my participation in the events?
And then it suddenly dawns on me. Does the Doctor even know
of my participation?
I'd just assumed that he'd scanned Tom, but what if he
hadn't? The Doctor would have been under the impression -
the rather natural impression - that all the semen covering
Tom was his own.
If that was the case, then the Doctor would have told Tom
that... what? Spirits! No wonder Tom's so embarrassed. I
must speak with him straight away. Tell him what really
I stand up carefully. "I'll speak with Tom at once."
"Thank you, Commander."
To be continued in part 6.