The BLTS Archive - Episode Additions, Scenes and Codas
Author, Author: Second Chances
by Julie Evans (Juli17@aol.com)

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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 ASC, PT Collective Archive  and BLTS.
All others please ask author for permission.

Notes:  At the end of "Barge of the Dead," it was left  unclear
whether B'Elanna's mother was really dead.  In my  previous story
"Ordinary Life," I made the assumption that  she was still alive, but
John Torres' comment in "Author,  Author" seems to confirm that Miral
did die.  Such is the  hazard of trying to predict TPTB.  I'm now
reversing my  position ;-)

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Tom had come directly to engineering from the briefing  room, eager to
tell B'Elanna what had just transpired  there.  But when he spotted
her standing by the railing in  front of the warp core, her
concentration rapt on what she  was doing, he paused.  Instead of
approaching her, he  watched her as she punched figures into a
datapadd, then  transferred her gaze to the warp core every few
seconds.

Though she was thoroughly engrossed in her work, she  looked relaxed,
and content.  Four days ago, right after  she'd spoken with her father
for the first time in twenty  years, she'd assured him that she was
okay.   Seeing him  again after so long had been a little unsettling,
and she  was still skeptical, but she was glad they'd talked.

Tom had been glad for her too.  Even if she wasn't going  to put total
faith in their first conversation and her  father's intentions yet, he
knew B'Elanna wanted that  connection to her father, especially now
that her mother  was gone.

Tom recalled how B'Elanna had told him several times since  her
experience in the Klingon afterlife that she believed  her mother was
dead.  Saying those words had been a way of  preparing herself for
that possibility, but without  knowing for sure, she'd still held out
hope that her  mother was alive, even if it had remained unspoken.
Learning the truth had been difficult for her, especially  since it
had taken several months for the news to reach  Voyager.  Between the
occasional disruptions in the  datastream--like the Ferengi's fake
Barclay holoprogram  that had canceled the data exchange one
month--and the  delays within the Alpha quadrant getting information
to  and from Q'onoS because of the rebuilding still going on  from the
Dominion War devastation, B'Elanna's first and  second letters to her
mother had apparently gone astray.   Finally, Elizabeth, B'Elanna's
human cousin who had been  the first to write her from the Alpha
quadrant, had been  able to contact B'Elanna's uncle on Q'onoS.  It
was her  uncle who had sent B'Elanna a letter almost two months  ago,
finally confirming Miral's fate.

That night B'Elanna had been waiting for him in their  quarters.
She'd had the datapadd with the transmitted  letter in hand for
several hours, but she'd wanted some  privacy--and his
presence--before she read it.  The letter  had been brief, though
kindly worded.  Her uncle had  informed B'Elanna that Miral's death
had been sudden but  honorable.  B'Elanna had lost any waning hope
that her  mother was still alive, but at least with the certainty
she'd finally been able to truly grieve, and to adjust to  her
mother's changed presence in her life.

She'd told him a few days later that seeing her mother on  the Barge
of the Dead made it easier to accept the loss.   It would have been
much harder if she'd never been able to  talk with her mother again
after they'd parted so  acrimoniously when she'd joined the Maquis, to
share some  final words, and to know that her mother had loved her and
was proud of her.  Tom had been a little unnerved at the  realization
that B'Elanna's experience in the Klingon  afterlife had been more
than just a simple vision he'd  assumed it was after the fact.  But
he'd also been  gratified for her that she'd had a chance to reconcile
with her mother, whatever the unlikely circumstances.  And  he'd been
glad for himself that she'd chosen to fight and  return to her life,
in part because her mother had prodded  her to make that choice.

Tom figured he also owed Kohlar a debt of thanks for  reintroducing
B'Elanna to the prayer for the dead.  She'd  been intrigued by it
then, but she'd embraced it after  she'd found out about her mother a
couple of weeks later.   She performed the ceremony regularly now,
usually when Tom  was still on shift, in the shower, or otherwise
occupied-- since it was a solitary ritual.  He was just happy it
brought B'Elanna comfort, and a sense of communion with  her mother.

Tom knew that even six months ago B'Elanna wouldn't have  been able to
grieve for her mother so openly, or receive  comfort from Klingon
rituals--maybe not even from him.   Resolving her concerns about their
baby--together--and her  interactions with Kohlar and his Klingon crew
had given  B'Elanna a stronger and more positive sense of herself.
And now she could accept her father's overture, not  without
reservations certainly, but she'd indicated that  she was willing to
give him a chance.  Her father's candid  mention of B'Elanna's mother
had probably helped soften  the way a little.

Still, it wouldn't be easy for John Torres.  He'd have to  earn
B'Elanna's respect and affection all over again.  But  if he proved
himself to her, B'Elanna would eventually  welcome him with open arms.
Tom knew that from  experience.

"Tom?"

Tom came out of his reverie with a start.  B'Elanna was  looking at
him, her expression bemused.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Just a couple of minutes."

"You looked lost in thought," she said as he dropped one  hand over
her belly and walked toward him.  That  protective, affectionate
gesture had become so commonplace  to him that he knew he would miss
seeing it once the baby  was born.  Her gaze was searching as she
stopped in front  of him, and her lips curved a little.  "You also
look...pleased."

Tom smiled.  He was pleased, about a lot of things.  He  leaned
forward and kissed her quickly on the lips.  "My  father was there."

"Did you get to talk at all?"

"For a few seconds, before the arbitrator came in.  After  he greeted
the captain, my father said hello to me.  He  also told me he looked
forward to my call, and to meeting  you.  Then the arbitrator arrived
and got down to  business, so he couldn't say anything more."

"That was enough," B'Elanna said softly.  "You got to see  him, and he
got to say a few words..."  Her lips quirked.   "Did you manage to say
anything at all, Tom?"

Tom shrugged at her amused look.  "I said 'hello, sir.'  I  didn't
have time to say anything else.  We were on an  official call as it
was."

"The captain arranged for you to be there for a reason."

Tom nodded at B'Elanna's observation.  He hadn't been at  any of the
original hearings, and there'd been no official  reason for him to be
there to hear the arbitrator's  decision.  He knew the captain had
invited him  specifically so he could see his father, even under the
constraints of a formal meeting.  After his father's  initial greeting
the captain had been completely silent,  though he was sure she had
many things she could have  asked him or said to him.  She'd
intentionally left an  opening.

"I'm glad you finally got to see each other face to face,"  B'Elanna
said.

"Yeah."  Face to face, for the first time since that  moment nearly
eight years ago when his father had briefly  met his eyes in the
Federation courtroom as his verdict  had been announced--guilty of the
crime of treason.  His  father had looked angry, disappointed, and
maybe even a  little relieved.  The judge had demanded Tom's attention
for the reading of his sentence, and when Tom had looked  back, his
father was gone.  He hadn't stayed to see his  son led away to prison,
not that Tom could blame him.

B'Elanna's hand touched his arm lightly, and Tom managed a  small
smile.  "He looked older, but I guess I do too.  He  looked good
though.  Healthy, and...happy."

"Why shouldn't he be?  He has his son back."

"He also has a daughter-in-law," Tom reminded her.  "And a
granddaughter.  My family really is looking forward to  meeting you,
B'Elanna."

"I know."

Though the first letters from his family had been directed  to him,
increasingly they had been directed to B'Elanna  too, some sections of
them just to her in fact.  His  oldest sister was a fountain of
personal information on  pregnancy and childbirth, and she'd certainly
never been  one to hold back when it came to dispensing her knowledge
and opinions.

"So does this mean you won't be trading any more chips  away to other
crewmembers before it's your turn to make a  call home?"

Tom saw the shrewd look in his wife's eyes.  "Hey, Harry  really
wanted to talk to his mother before her birthday,"  he protested,
though he was sure B'Elanna didn't believe  that had been his whole
reason.  She knew him too well.   "I'd already waited this long, and
I've had plenty of  letters from my family now.  I know they've
forgiven me,  even my father."

"Reading a letter isn't quite the same thing as actually  seeing him
again," B'Elanna said wryly.

Tom knew B'Elanna was talking about her father as much as  his father.
Even though she'd received her father's  conciliatory letter first,
she been reluctant to talk to  him face to face.  She would have
preferred a little time  to ease into the idea of her father's contact
with her  after so long, but despite her nervousness she'd agreed to
the meeting.  When they'd walked together into  astrometrics at the
appointed time he'd felt her hand  trembling a little in his, but
she'd gone through with it,  and he'd been proud of her.

"It is different," Tom conceded.  "Even in such an  impersonal
atmosphere, and with everyone else there, I was  a little nervous.  I
think my father was a little nervous  too.  But I'm glad I saw him."

B'Elanna reached for his hand, and linked her fingers with  his.  "Now
it will be easier when you get the chance to  really talk to him."

"When we do," Tom said, and she nodded.  He was actually  impatient
for the next twenty-seven days to pass.  "Did  you start the letter to
your father yet?"

B'Elanna shook her head.  "We won't have access to the  datastream for
another three weeks."

"There's no reason you can't start thinking about what you  want to
say now."

B'Elanna gave Tom a reproachful look.  "I said I'll write  him."  Her
lips twisted ruefully.  "I just don't know  *what* I want to say--what
I can say after all this time."

"Just tell him about your life, B'Elanna.  That's what he  wants to
hear."  Tom rubbed her wrist gently with his  thumb.  "He never
stopped caring about you, you know."

B'Elanna's expression was dubious.  "He had a strange way  of showing
it."

"He made a mistake, a big one.  The more time passes, the  harder it
is to correct that kind of mistake."  Tom knew  that too well.  And
sometimes the harder it was to keep  living with a mistake without
correcting it.  "He did put  himself on the line, when he knows you
have every reason  to deny him a second chance."

B'Elanna sighed.  "I'm not going to deny him a second  chance.  Just
give me a little time."

"Okay."  Tom kissed her cheek lightly.  "I won't mention  the letter
again.  He changed the subject entirely.  "I  reserved the holodeck
for tonight."

"You did?  Isn't the doctor still revising his holo-opus?   Or did the
arbitrator rule against him?"

"The arbitrator didn't rule on whether the doctor could be  considered
a person or not.  He said that was a matter  that would need further
review.  But he did give the  doctor artistic rights over his own
work, and he ordered  all copies of the original holonovel recalled
until the  doctor finishes the revisions."

"Are you still going to help him with those revisions?"

"Yeah.  Despite my 'lowbrow' tastes"--Tom feigned a glare  at
B'Elanna's smirk--"I want to make sure the new  characters bear *no*
resemblance to any of us.  I promised  to help the doctor tomorrow
night, but tonight I thought  we could have a nice, romantic dinner,
just the two of  us."  He brushed a hand over her belly.  "Or make
that the  three of us.  We haven't had the opportunity to do that in
a few weeks.  And we can celebrate."

"Celebrate what?"

Tom shrugged, then smiled.  "How about second chances?"

B'Elanna smiled back.  "Okay.  Where?"

"You choose."

"Hmm."  B'Elanna looked at him thoughtfully for several  moments.
"How about...Marseille?"

Tom saw the wicked gleam in her eyes.  "Ha, ha, that's  very funny."

B'Elanna grinned.  "Yes, it is."

"I'm trying to forget what the doctor did to me.   Lieutenant
Marseille was a detestable, morally bankrupt  jerk."

B'Elanna patted his chest.  "Tom, he wasn't *you.*  I do  know that.
Maybe that was why I could barely keep a  straight face when I saw
him.  Or maybe it was the  mustache.  It looked like a little furry
animal was living  on your--his lip."

Tom rolled his eyes as his wife let out an  uncharacteristic giggle.

B'Elanna cleared her throat.  "Sorry.  At least Lieutenant  Marseille
was amusing.  Look at my alter ego, Tory.  She  was a humorless,
vindictive shrew."

"Though a human one," Tom noted.  B'Elanna hadn't said  anything about
that fact, but at one time that alone would  have been enough for her
to be envious.

"I'm very happy I'm not her," B'Elanna said without pause.   "Believe
me, I much prefer my life on Voyager to anything  and anyone I saw on
the Vortex."

"Though several thousand people in the Alpha quadrant  probably now
think we *are* the people on the Vortex," Tom  reminded her.

B'Elanna shrugged.  "Public attention is limited.  The  whole thing
will blow over soon enough.   Besides the  people who count already
know the truth about you.  About  all of us."

She was right, though he was still glad the smarmy  Lieutenant
Marseille would soon be history.  "About  tonight...instead of
Marseille, we could do Paris."

"I've done Paris plenty of times."

Tom grinned at her sly look.  "I meant the city.  For  dinner."

"Oh.  That little cafe on the right bank of the Seine,  across from
the Ile de la Cite?"

On their six-month anniversary, Tom had recreated the city  of Paris
on the holodeck.  Despite the obvious connection  to his name, it was
the first time he and B'Elanna had  gotten around to doing a program
set there.  The city's  beauty and vitality had charmed people for
centuries, and  B'Elanna had been no exception.  But who didn't love
Paris?

"I did like that cafe," B'Elanna said.  "And the jazz club  in the
Marais, though dancing's a little awkward for me  right now with this
huge belly."

Tom patted her belly.  "Hey, I love your huge belly.  We  can dance to
the slow ones."

"Well, I *definitely* prefer Paris to Marseille," B'Elanna  said, the
drawl in her voice telling Tom her double- entendre was intentional.
"But I was thinking of another  place."

"Where?"

"Kessik."

"Kessik?" Tom echoed, staring at B'Elanna.  She'd never  suggested
visiting Kessik on the holodeck, not with him,  and he was sure she'd
never recreated it on her own  either.

"I haven't been back since I left to join the Academy.  In  fact, I
was sure when I left I'd never go back--I'd never  want to go back.
There were too many things I wanted to  forget.  But I've come to
realize those memories aren't  *all* bad.  There were some good times
too."

"With your father?" Tom asked gently.  He knew she had  good memories
from her childhood, but they'd been colored  by her father's leaving
her.

"And with my mother," B'Elanna said.  "When I was a little  girl we
used to picnic by a river not far from the  Research Center.  It was
in a wooded wilderness area  called Durandi Reserve.  In the summer
the wildflowers  were beautiful."

"It sounds like the perfect place for a picnic supper,"  Tom said.
"And it should be easy enough to recreate from  the geographical files
in the database.  I'm off duty now,  so I can work on it, if you want
me to.  Then you can add  any finishing touches I miss."

B'Elanna nodded.  "Okay.  I'll take care of replicating  the food.
But I have about an hour's work left here, if I  get back to it right
now."

"I reserved the holodeck for 1930 hours."

"Perfect.  That will give me enough time to go home and  change."

Tom kissed her lightly on the lips.  "See you soon then."   His hand
was still resting against her belly.  His gaze  held hers intently.
"Are we sure now?"

She understood his meaning, and he saw a quick flash of  melancholy in
her eyes.  They'd discussed the subject  again last night.  The
melancholy was supplanted by a look  of fond resolve.  "Yes."

Tom glanced around engineering once, making sure everyone  within
visual range was occupied.  Then he dropped into a  crouch, and
pressed a quick kiss against B'Elanna's belly.   "See you soon
too...Miral."

B'Elanna was shaking her head as he stood again, but she  couldn't
stop the smile that tugged at the corners of her  mouth.  "You're an
idiot."

He'd been called worse, though rarely with so much  affection.  He
grinned.  "Thanks."

B'Elanna squeezed his hand quickly before he pulled it  away, then
with one final reproving look at him she turned  back to tend to her
neglected warp core.  Tom sauntered  through engineering, not even
trying to keep the stupid  grin off his face.

It had been an eventful day, but definitely a good one.   Lieutenant
Marseille's brief holonovel career was over for  one thing.  The man
had been a ridiculous  characterization, not him at all, but Tom knew
the doctor  hadn't assigned his alter ego those traits out of thin
air.  They'd contained a grain or two of truth, and that  had
disturbed him a little.

Even the name had been appropriate.  He'd lived the worst  days of his
life in Marseille.  His reputation as a  womanizer had taken root
there.  Though he'd certainly  slept around, his partners had been as
free--and easy--as  he'd been.  He'd never cheated on any of them, but
his  brief liaisons back then could hardly be termed  relationships,
simply passing flings, so faithfulness  hadn't been much of an issue.
He'd also made it a policy  never to sleep with married women--though
he also hadn't  asked a lot of questions, he had to admit honestly.
If  he'd kept going in the same direction he'd been headed  back in
the Alpha quadrant, who's to say his already  flimsy moral boundaries
wouldn't have eventually slipped  all the way.

Even on Voyager he'd flaunted his bad boy reputation at  first, though
he'd never really acted on it.  Sandrine's  had been a deliberate
advertisement of that reputation,  but over the years Gaunt Gary,
Rickie, the dingy  furnishings and lighting, and even Sandrine herself
had  disappeared.  Though some of the atmosphere remained, now
Sandrine's was a neat, well-kept piano bar, sanitized to a  degree
maybe, but a testament to his life on Voyager now  rather than to his
former life.

He didn't mind.  He'd turned his life around on Voyager,  just as
B'Elanna had turned hers around.  Even when their  relationship had
been at its rockiest, he'd never even  been tempted to cheat on her.
And, temptation aside, he'd  never cheat on her anyway.  It might be
in the fictional  Lieutenant Marseille' character, perhaps it might
eventually have been in his own character had his life  proceeded
differently.  Or perhaps not.  He could only  know who he was now.

"Paris."

Tom greeted the man who stepped out of the turbolift as he  stepped
in.  "Hey, Harren."

Mortimer Harren still rarely smiled, but he didn't glower  silently at
every passing crewmember anymore as if he'd  like to incinerate them
on the spot either.  Janeway's  interest in him a year ago had turned
him around, and he'd  started to act like part of the crew instead of
skulking  around in the shadows of the ship.  He'd been given  another
chance on Voyager too, and he'd wisely decided to  take it.

Tom watched Harren stride in the direction of main  engineering as the
turbolift doors closed.  Besides his  own second chance on Voyager to
make his life worth  something, he'd been given a second chance with
his  father, as B'Elanna had with her father.  He wanted to  make the
most of it.  From the warm welcome in his  father's gaze when their
eyes had met for the first time  in eight years, his father wanted to
make the most of it  too.

Much as Tom looked forward to the opportunity of squaring  things with
his father again, right now he had something  to do for B'Elanna.  He
was curious to see Kessik Four for  the first time, and determined to
recreate it as  accurately as possible for her.  Luckily he had a
talent  for that.  A sanguine smile lit his face as he ordered the
turbolift to his next destination.

"Holodeck."

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The End