Afterimage
by Shayney

A sappy romance for Valentine's Day. Even though I'm no good at hetero romance. Blame this one on Amiroq, who insisted that I could write C/T, and gave me some tips. It's all her fault.

This is a sequel to 'Snapshot', but I think it can be read on its own.

Date Posted: 14 February 2001

Contains implied male/male relationship. There's nothing explicit, but if that's not your thing, read no further.

Characters and situations owned by Paramount/Viacom. Used without permission. No copyright infringement intended.

It was early, and the corridors of Voyager were quiet. Harry checked to make sure there was no one in sight, then quickly went up to a certain door and laid his gift on the deck in front of it. Then he turned around and went back the way he came, walking as fast as he could without looking like he was hurrying. He took the first turn he came upon - and almost ran right into Tom Paris.

"Tom!" he gasped. "You almost scared me to death." He sagged against the bulkhead, weak with relief. "I thought you were B'Elanna."

"Oh. Is that why you just put a dozen roses in front of her door?" Tom asked. His tone was joking, but there was a slight edge to his voice. He was actually a little worried, Harry realized.

He and Tom hadn't been together very long. Harry had resisted the relationship for quite awhile, being naturally more cautious than Tom, and Tom still suffered occasional fits of insecurity.

Harry smiled at Tom, and leaned forward to kiss him. "Don't worry. I have something much better than flowers for you."

Tom smiled back, reassured. "So why are you giving B'Elanna flowers?" he asked, curious.

Harry shrugged. "Every woman should be remembered on Valentine's Day," he answered. He didn't add that the one who used to give her flowers on Valentine's Day, Tom Paris, was now with Harry. And that B'Elanna had helped get them together. Tom knew all that, and probably felt some guilt about it. Which was why Harry had tried to sneak out this morning to make his deliveries without waking Tom. Unsuccessfully, it would seem.

Tom suddenly noticed the items Harry was still carrying. A single long-stemmed red rosebud, and a small heart-shaped box of chocolate. "Hey. How many people are you romancing on the side, anyway?"

"Just three," Harry replied. "Come on, it's getting late." He continued down the corridor toward the turbolift.

"Three? And everyone thinks you're such a sweet, shy thing."

They were in the turbolift by then, and Harry ordered, "Deck eight."

Tom raised his brows at that. "Don't tell me. Our resident Borg beauty?"

"Yup."

"B'Elanna and Seven? How can I compete?"

"Easily," Harry said, grinning. He led the way to Cargo Bay Two, and put the rose down in front of the door.

The next stop was deck four. "Sue Nicoletti?" Tom guessed.

"Nope. She has Ayala to give her Valentine's Day presents."

Tom recognized the door they were headed for. "Samantha Wildman?"

"No," Harry said. "She's a married woman." He went up to the door and put the little box of candy down in front of it. "It's for Naomi," he whispered as they hurried away.

Tom's quarters were here on deck four, so they went back to them. "It doesn't bother you that I gave presents to other people, does it?" Harry asked as soon as the door closed behind them.

"It might have, except for that last stop. I could see you dumping me for Seven or B'Elanna, but I'm pretty sure Naomi isn't a serious rival."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. I think."

"Harry. . . aren't you afraid they might think you're really interested?"

"No," Harry replied. "I didn't sign my name. Just 'Your secret admirer.'"

"But they could probably find out who it was, if they really wanted to. Check replicator usage records or something."

"Maybe," Harry said. "But I don't think they will. They don't really want to know."

"Why not?"

"Because they're happier not knowing. They can imagine it's anyone they want. If they find out it's just that boring Harry Kim, it ruins the fantasy." Harry knew what he was talking about. In years past, he'd seen the disappointment in their eyes, when he'd been foolish enough to reveal himself.

"You're not boring," Tom said. He pulled Harry into an embrace. "And where's my present?"

"Wait until tonight," Harry said.

"Oh. Then I got the best present," Tom said smugly. His hands started to wander.

"Not that," Harry laughed. "I've got the holodeck reserved for us tonight."

"Wow." Tom pulled back a little, staring at Harry in surprise. "How many rations did it cost you?" There were only two holodecks, and they tended to be in demand on special occasions like Valentine's Day.

"Let's just say that you'll be supporting me for the rest of the week. Or listening to me complain about Neelix's cooking."

"You never complain about Neelix's cooking. You just don't eat it, and gaze at me with that starving puppy look until I give in and feed you."

"Feed me and you'll never get rid of me," Harry warned.

"In that case. . . what do you want for breakfast? My treat."

"Do you think B'Elanna's found the roses by now?" Tom asked, over eggs benedict.

"Probably. Knowing her, she's already in Engineering."

"Who do you think she hopes they're from?"

Harry hesitated, then said, "Chakotay. She's always had a thing for him."

"Really? I always thought he had a thing for her. He used to give me the dirtiest looks, back when I was dating her."

They looked at each other, speculation in their eyes.

Striding out of her quarters in her usual brisk manner, she almost stepped on them. Flowers. Long-stemmed red roses, to be precise. She picked them up, wondering if they might have been accidentally delivered to the wrong door. No, the card was addressed to her. "For B'Elanna. Happy Valentine's Day from your secret admirer." Her name was even spelled right.

She smiled in spite of herself, gently touching the cool, fragrant buds. A secret admirer? How silly and old-fashioned. But intriguing, nonetheless. She thought about checking the replicator usage reports to see who it might be, but decided not to. If it was just Tom Paris playing a prank, or annoying Freddie Bristow, or that accordion-playing nerd from the Airponics Bay, she didn't want to know.

Chakotay made his way to Engineering, thinking about his longtime comrade, B'Elanna Torres. He'd kept a careful eye on her after the breakup of her relationship with Tom Paris, fearing a return of the depression she'd suffered a couple of years ago. That had been months ago, and she'd seemed fine.

But Ensign Kim was worried about her. He'd come to Chakotay this morning, saying he thought B'Elanna might need some counseling. It was Valentine's Day. So far as Chakotay knew, B'Elanna had never celebrated the holiday, but Tom had, so the end of her relationship with him might weigh on her mind today. On the other hand, perhaps Harry was only feeling guilty. Since rumor had it he had stolen B'Elanna's lover.

Chakotay chided himself for his uncharitable thoughts. Harry and Tom hadn't gotten together until at least half a year after Tom and B'Elanna had broken up. The young ensign was a good man, and one of B'Elanna's closest friends on the ship. For a long time, Harry Kim was the only Starfleet member of the crew she trusted. Including Captain Janeway. In fact, B'Elanna had even mistrusted Chakotay for awhile, fearing he'd been "taken in" by Kathryn Janeway. If Harry was concerned about B'Elanna, Chakotay was, too.

B'Elanna wasn't in main engineering, so he made his way to her office. The door was open, and he could see her, head bent over her computer. Chakotay immediately noticed the bouquet of flowers on the corner of the desk. A dozen long-stemmed red roses, in a crystal vase. A Valentine's Day gift from an admirer? He should be happy for her, but found himself unaccountably annoyed.

He watched her in silence. She seemed content. Working, but not with that angry, hyperactive edge she got when she was working to distract herself. And she looked good, neat and trim in her Starfleet uniform, her dark curls tumbling around her face.

She'd stopped straightening her hair. It made her look more Klingon, which Chakotay could only view as a good sign. He believed in taking pride in one's heritage. Besides, it was quite attractive.

"Got a minute?" he asked.

She looked up. "Commander!" She jumped to her feet. "What can I do for you?"

"As you were. This is an unofficial visit."

B'Elanna smiled. A lovely, relaxed smile. "In that case. . . can I get you a cup of tea?"

"Thank you."

She got him a cup of his favorite blend from the replicator, along with a coffee for herself. She gestured him to sit, settling on the edge of her desk.

The edge away from the bouquet of roses. Chakotay found himself looking at it again, wondering who had given it to her. And wondering why the sight of them bothered him so. He should be happy if B'Elanna had found love. It was just that he was afraid it was someone not worthy of her. Someone like Tom Paris.

"I haven't talked to you in awhile, B'Elanna. I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"Fine," she said. And she looked fine. Very fine indeed. He wondered why Harry was concerned.

"I'm glad you came down here," she continued. "I want to start playing hoverball again. But I need an opponent. How about it?"

Long ago, he and B'Elanna used to play hoverball together. But then she'd started working out with Paris, and he'd switched to boxing against holographic opponents. It would be nice to exercise with a real person. And it would give him a chance to observe her more, see if there was something bothering her. "I thought you'd never ask," he said, smiling.

B'Elanna looked after Chakotay as he left, thinking not for the first time what an attractive man he was. It wasn't just his handsome, magnetically sensual looks. He knew her so well, and accepted her as she was. She was comfortable with him, at home, in a way she'd never been, even with her family. She'd had such a crush on him, back when they first met. But he'd just never thought of her that way.

She glanced over at the roses on her desk. If only Chakotay were her secret admirer. She smiled for a moment at the thought, then mentally shook herself. Don't be silly. They're probably from poor, humorless Ensign Bronowsky. Pushing herself off the desk, she turned her mind back to work.

The hoverball match had gone well. It was a game where finesse and intelligence counted more than physical strength, and they were evenly matched. Chakotay had won, two games to one, but barely. Now they were sitting in the Mess Hall, drinking iced tea and talking.

B'Elanna looked calm and relaxed, still a bit flushed from the exercise. If she was depressed, she was hiding it awfully well. She was just finishing a funny story involving Ensign Vorik and the EPS relays, when Paris and Kim came tumbling through the door, boisterous as ever. Nothing improper - they appeared to be arguing good-naturedly about a card game - but as usual, they were so focussed on each other they didn't notice anyone else in the room.

B'Elanna followed his gaze, turning to see the pair, who were now at the replicator, still arguing. She smiled a little as she saw them, though Chakotay thought he detected a hint of wistfulness in her expression, too.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"Sure." She seemed slightly puzzled, then realized what he was thinking. "Chakotay, Tom Paris is ancient history."

He said nothing in reply. Paris and Kim had settled at a table across the room. They were eating ice cream out of the same dish, Chakotay noticed. He frowned slightly. Nothing he could reprimand them for, but it got his back up. Did they have to rub it in, in front B'Elanna?

He stole a sideways glance at her, and caught the look of regret on her face. It made him want to kill Tom Paris.

B'Elanna swung her racquet with all her strength, twisting her body to absorb the momentum. Her hit was dead true, but Chakotay responded with that deceptive speed of his.

Damn. She'd thought her shot was a sure winner. Flinging her racquet out on pure instinct, she just caught the target. . . and won the point.

Chakotay grinned ruefully. "Nice one. That's game, set, and match." He floated in midair, relaxed, his shirt plastered to his chest with sweat. That was the problem with zero-g. The sweat didn't drip off.

B'Elanna grinned back at him. Most human men hated losing to a woman at sports. Freddie Bristow had refused to play her again, after she beat him once. Tom tried to pretend it didn't bother him, but she could tell it did. As for Harry. . . in a way, he was worse. He was better than she was, but sometimes threw games, letting her win. To be fair, it wasn't because she was a woman. It was just his skewed idea of politeness. He did the same when he played Tom. Tom didn't seem to mind, but B'Elanna hated it. It was patronizing. Chakotay was neither patronizing nor a sore loser. She'd forgotten how much she liked playing him.

He pushed off the ceiling with just the right force, gently propelling himself toward her. "Had enough?" she asked.

"Our holodeck time is up," he pointed out.

"Already?" She and Chakotay had been working out together for a couple of weeks now, and she was always surprised at how fast the time went.

"Afraid so."

"Well. . . same time Tuesday, then?"

"B'Elanna. . ." His strong hands closed gently on her shoulders, his momentum causing them to spin lazily. "I've really enjoyed these sessions."

"Me, too," she answered, suddenly hesitant. There was something in his voice, his eyes. If she didn't know better. . .

He took a deep breath, then said, "Let me escort you to the Prixin party this Friday."

She looked at him speechlessly, surprised and. . . yes, pleased.

"Well?" Chakotay asked after awhile. He smiled, his eyes crinkling in the way that used to make her heart beat faster. Okay, that still did. "Yes or no?"

"Yes," B'Elanna said, feeling almost dazed with happiness.

"Good," Chakotay said, smiling more. "I'll pick you up at 1930 hours." He called an order to the computer, and the gravity gradually returned, setting them lightly on their feet. Side by side, they walked to the exit. Oddly, it didn't open.

"Arch," Chakotay tried. Nothing.

"Computer, exit," B'Elanna said. Still nothing. Frowning, she checked the console, punching a few buttons.

Everything shimmered. The hoverball court disappeared, and a different program formed in its place.

They appeared to be in a rustic cabin in the mountains. All the details were perfect: snow falling outside the windows, a cozy fire burning in the huge fireplace, mugs of something hot to drink warming on the hearth, a thick fur rug on the flagstone floor. And yes, a huge wooden bed, piled high with quilts, was against one wall. B'Elanna scowled. It was just so damned corny, only one person could be responsible.

"Must be a malfunction," Chakotay said, putting his arm around her. "I'm sure they'll get it fixed soon."

She wanted nothing more than to lean into the embrace, but she flung him off. "Don't touch me!"

"B'Elanna, what's wrong?"

"Tom Paris, that's what's wrong!"

The handsome face hardened. "Tom, still," he said. "After all this time, you still aren't over him?"

"Of course I'm over him," B'Elanna said, surprised. "I was over him practically before we broke up. What I'm not over is his being a manipulative pig, and you being in on it. I am not a charity case, Chakotay!"

"Charity case? What are you talking about?"

She gestured at their surroundings. "Tom put you up to this! Admit it. This is a Tom Paris holoprogram if ever I saw one." She never realized it before, but she really, really hated Paris' predictable, sentimental, over-the-top holoprograms. She found herself incredibly grateful that it was Harry who had to put up with this crap nowadays, not her.

"It is?" Chakotay asked.

"Yes. Don't play innocent. Tom was also the one who insisted that I ask you to play hoverball. 'Lanna, Commander Chakotay was several kilos over Starfleet weight standards at his last physical. Ask him to work out with you or something, so I don't have to put him on medical report.'"

"What?? I've never been in better shape in my life!"

I'll vouch for that, B'Elanna couldn't help thinking to herself. Against her will, her eyes lingered on his lean flanks and firm buttocks, clearly visible through his thin workout pants. God, she was such a fool to think a man like this would be interested in her. . .

"Wait a minute..." Chakotay paced a bit, as he often did when he was thinking. "I was not in on this, I swear. We were both set up, B'Elanna. Harry Kim asked me to keep an eye on you. He said he thought you might be depressed again."

"That's why you said yes when I asked you to play hoverball."

"I would have said yes anyway. B'Elanna...don't you know how much I like you?" He stopped in front of her, holding his gaze with hers. She could hardly bear to meet his gaze, nor could she look away.

"You're sure Tom didn't put you up to this?" she managed unsteadily.

Chakotay's eyes smoldered. "Damn it, B'Elanna! I would never do something like that to you, can't you see that?"

For a long moment, B'Elanna considered. Now that her anger was fading, and she could think clearly, she looked at Chakotay through the lens of their long friendship. It wasn't like him to be underhanded. At least, not with her. She took a deep breath. "I believe you," she said.

Chakotay did a double take. "What?" he said, as if he didn't dare believe his ears.

"I said I believe you," she said, strangely calm.

And then Chakotay's arms were around her, holding her as if he would never let go. "Thank you," he whispered.

They sat on the rug in front of the fire, sipping Irish coffee from the warmed ceramic mugs. Harry, all innocence, had informed them that the fault in the holodeck circuitry wouldn't be fixed for another hour and a half. They had pretended to go along with it. . . for now.

"I had the worst crush on you, from the moment I saw you," B'Elanna said, smiling. "But you hardly seemed to notice me."

"You were a child back then. By the time I noticed you had grown up, you were with Paris." Chakotay stared into the flames. "B'Elanna. . . I know you still have feelings for Tom. That's okay. I just hope that one day, you'll have feelings like that for me, too."

"The only feelings I have for Tom are friendship and affection. Well, and annoyance, sometimes." He gave her a sharp look. "What?" she asked, impatient. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

"B'Elanna...I've seen the way you look at him. That day in the mess hall, when he and Harry came in. You had such a wistful, longing expression on your face."

"I did not!" Then she thought about it. "Maybe I did," she said. "But if so, I was looking at them, not him. " She smiled at Chakotay's puzzlement. "It's just that. . . they're just such a perfect couple. I've always wished I had friend like that. I never thought. . . but now. . ." Unable to continue, she ducked her head, examining her coffee as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

Strong fingers took the mug away, and gently tilted her chin up. And the warmth of the blazing fire was nothing, compared to the heat of Chakotay's mouth on hers.

"It was a malfunction, sir," Harry insisted. Not very convincingly. He really was a poor liar. But he was sticking to his story.

Time to break out the big guns. "Do you know what that 'malfunction' cost me?" Chakotay demanded. He walked up to Harry, getting right in his face. Out of the corner of his eye, Chakotay saw Tom make a small, involuntary move toward them, quickly aborted. Harry remained stalwart, not backing down an inch.

Chakotay injected just the right mix of anger and hurt into his voice. "B'Elanna had just agreed to allow me to escort her to the Prixin party. Then your 'malfunction' kicked in, she thought she'd been set up, and she turned me down."

Harry flinched visibly. He hesitated a moment, then blurted, "I'm sorry, sir. We didn't mean for that to happen."

"Harry!" Tom protested.

"Please, let us explain it to B'Elanna," Harry said, digging the hole deeper.

Tom groaned.

"I can't go through with this," Harry said.

"Would you rather get a black mark in your permanent file?" Tom asked him.

"Can I get back to you on that?"

"You're the one who spilled your guts to Chakotay. You have no one to blame but yourself."

"I'm sorry," Harry said miserably.

"It's all right," Tom said. "Don't worry. You're adorable."

The mess hall doors slid open, and they stepped inside. The Prixin party was in full swing, but dead silence fell as Tom and Harry entered. Then the laughter broke out.

Tom wore a gold loincloth, and little else. A gold halo floated above his hair, and a pair of small gold wings was attached to his back, along with a quiver full of heart-tipped arrows. He carried a gold bow. Harry was dressed identically, except his loincloth, halo, wings, and bow were silver.

Captain Janeway stared. "I'm not even going to ask," she finally said, and turned back to the fruit compote.

Chakotay strode up, looking elegant in tawny silk. B'Elanna was on his arm, stunning in a flowing dress of deep green velvet. "Don't be shy, Harry," she said mischievously. "No hiding behind Tom, now."

"Just remember," Chakotay said, "if you're going to play Cupid, you're going to dress the part."

"Yes, sir," Harry said unhappily.

"Hey," Tom said, taking Harry's hand. "Cheer up. It could be worse."

Chakotay grinned wickedly. "It's worse. Here comes the Doctor with his holo-imager."

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