The BLTS Archive- Downfall
by Janie (janie@jmangham.freeserve.co.uk)

---

Late at night, a bottle of wine and some conversation.....Well, I
guess we all know where that leads. There's not much (any?) plot, just
some lowering of barriers.

ARCHIVE:..ASCEM OK. Any one else, please ask.   

DISCLAIMER: Star Trek Voyager and the characters are the property of
Paramount. Text extract is from "Silverthorn"  by Raymond E Feist
(damn fine fantasy novels, not  trashy romance at all (and the
Princess has red hair too!)). No infringement of their copyright is
intended.   

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the first piece I've ever written,  let alone
posted. It started life as something else entirely, and just mutated
into this! It's not been beta-ed or edited, so it's all my fault! Like
everyone else, I would be extremely grateful for feedback.      

---

1:30 am finds me softly walking Voyager's corridors once again. Fitful
bursts of sleep are all I can snatch these days, a legacy from New
Zealand, where it didn't do to sleep too soundly. B'Elanna's got used
to me disappearing in the middle of the night now. For the first
couple of months after we got together it used to bug the blazes out
of her, but now she's happy as long as I'm back there when she wakes
up. For once I've found that a compromise has its plus points.

I get time to wander and think, and Engineering doesn't get a sleep-
deprived half-Klingon Chief!    Most nights I end up at Sandrine's;
tonight is no different. To be honest, I prefer the place at this time
of night, when the off-duty staff have retired for the evening and the
more boisterous of the holocharacters have given up through lack of
prey.

Most nights I sit at the bar nursing a glass of Scotch, hearing the
faint squeaks as the ice cubes shift and melt, watching the swirls as
the two liquids blend.

Most nights I'm alone.

But not tonight.

At first I didn't notice her. It wasn't until Sandrine passed me a
bottle of wine and a glass instead of the whisky I'd requested and
responded to my unspoken question with a nod towards the fireplace
that I saw her. She was curled up in one of the easy chairs on the far
side of the room, novel in one hand, idly rolling the stem of a
now-empty wine glass between the thumb and forefinger of the other.
Through the smokiness of the bar, the illumination from the lamp
appeared barely sufficient for her to read by, but nevertheless added
fire to the tendrils of hair that curled round her jaw. I hesitated,
as she seemed engrossed in her reading, but a meaningful look from
Sandrine prompted me to make my way over.

"Can I get you a refill?" I asked, offering the bottle to her.

At my intrusion, she jumped up like a startled deer. While I backed
away stammering my apologies, she gathered herself together and spoke.
"At ease, Tom. It's OK. You just gave me a fright.  I didn't hear you
come in."

As my blushes abated, she held out her glass. "Thank you. Tom? Stay
and keep me company awhile?"

I wasn't sure where I should sit . . . I ended up cross-legged on the
floor, slightly to the side of her, but able to look in her face.
Cradling my glass, I contemplated the woman before me.....and it was
one of the few times I was able to think of her as just a woman and
not as 'The Captain'.

"I didn't expect anyone else to be around at this time of night,
Captain. Usually it's just me and Sandrine."

"You come here often?"

"That sounds like a pick-up line!" I quipped. She flushed...damn me
and my smart-ass comments.  "Sorry, Captain, just the Paris sense of
humour kicking in. Yes,  I'm here most nights. Can't seem to sleep the
sleep of the righteous for some reason."

"I couldn't.....guess I'm not .....felt like a change of scenery," she
ended lamely.

"Commander Chakotay?" I asked.

"Needs his beauty sleep. B'Elanna?"

"The staff in Engineering need her beauty sleep."

Silence

"Tom....."

"Captain..."

"Tom...please...Call me Kathryn..."

"Kathryn..." The name felt strange on my lips. "What are you reading?"

She hesitated slightly before answering, and I swear there was a hint
of a blush across her cheeks. "Umm, it's a collection of 20th Century
trashy romance novels. Easy to read, not much thought required."

As her voice trailed off, I voiced her unspoken thought "....but the
imagination does the rest."

"And how exactly would you know that, Lieutenant?" she grinned.  My
turn for the blushes.

I guess we must've sat and talked about this and that for quite a
while . . . long enough for the empty bottles on the table to have
multiplied...long enough for her to have joined me on the floor,
sitting shoulder to shoulder in front of the fire. As I watched the
flickering light dance across her delicate features, I realised I had
a lump in my throat at the thought of her obvious loneliness (and I
have to confess, a lump in my pants at the thought of something else
entirely.)

"Would you read some to me?" I asked in an alcohol-emboldened whisper
and to my amazement, she picked up her book and cleared her throat.
"Where should I begin?" she asked. I ruffled the pages somewhat and
then stabbed my finger at a paragraph at random. "There...that seems
to  be as good a place as any. Let's see what the fates have dealt us"
I said.

"...His near-gaunt face was set in the half-frown which he assumed
when he was dwelling upon something serious and which she found so
dear. As he neared, she silently marvelled at the way he walked,
lithe, almost catlike in his quickness and economy of movement. As he
came up to her, he smiled, tentatively, even shyly. Before she could
muster years of court-taught poise, Anita found tears coming to her
eyes, Suddenly she was in his arms, clinging tightly to him. "Arutha"
was all she said."

Totally absorbed by the story, it took me a moment to realise she'd
stopped reading. "Please, don't stop" I mumbled, feeling the fire on
my face and also burning in  my soul. Something about her voice, so
throaty yet so.....

She sat looking at me, with her head tilted to one side, and the
suddenly dropped her gaze from mine and shifted slightly, almost
imperceptibly closer to my side. I took the book from her and
continued.

"...For a time they stood saying nothing, holding each other tight.
Then he slowly tilted her head back and kissed her.  Without words, he
spoke of his devotion and  longing and, without words, she answered"

This time my voice trailed off, drowned in a turmoil of emotion.

As  we sat there in silence, with the crackling flames raging loud in
my ears, the firelight dancing in her eyes, and unspoken words hanging
heavily in the air, all  rational thought fled.  I knew in that moment
I was doomed. Like moths to a flame, we drew together, and her mouth
opened under my searching lips.

A small moan escaping from one of us shattered the illusion.

"Tom...I'm..."

I put my finger to her lips to shush her. "Kathryn . . . I . . . I
shouldn't have let my feelings get the better of me. I'm the one who
should be sorry."

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

"Feelings? . . . Should be....?"

Damn, she's quick, even after a  couple of bottles of wine.

I turned to face her, and when I saw the flicker of hope?  desire? in
her eyes I knew I was lost. "I know it's wrong....B'Elanna......shit,
if it was anyone else......damn it all, I knew you'd be my undoing!"
And with that, I leaned in to kiss her once more.

As I lowered her to the floor, I heard her call to the computer
"Delete holocharacters and engage privacy lock. Authorisation Janeway
omega seven zero two" and then I  turned my full attention to loving
this extraordinary woman whom I never it thought possible to hold in
my arms.

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The End