Caretaker - L. A. Graf [84]
The excitement of battle had swept over him with a frightening abandon.
It had never been like this with the Maquis--he had never been invaded with such a sense of duty and purpose that he had said things, done things, that only a member of a starship's crew had any right to. And, greatest sin of all, he'd intentionally failed to inform Captain Janeway, "Hey, I'm a felon. Remember?" when she herself seemed to forget that fact in the thick of everything else. It had just felt so good to fit in again. So good to be useful.
Janeway turned away from the observation window as the door whispered shut behind Paris. He glimpsed a faint surprise in her eyes, as though she hadn't expected him so soon; then she stepped smoothly to the monitor on the long table between them and switched it off without looking at it. A suggestion of loneliness--a man's smiling face, and a blur of big, huggable dog--blinked out of existence before Paris even had a chance to blush at his intrusion.
"You asked to see me, Captain?" he prompted, just to break the moment.
She nodded, folding her hands. "Mr. Paris, you have a problem."
It occurred to him that the first time a woman had told him that was probably in fifth grade.
"I've invited Chakotay and the other Maquis to become part of this crew," Janeway went on. "It seemed the only reasonable thing to do, under the circumstances."
Paris swallowed an insane urge to giggle. "Will you provide a bodyguard for me, Captain?" It seemed somehow so unfair to be murdered in his sleep after surviving everything else they'd been through.
Janeway smiled oddly. "It seems you already have one."
"I do?"
"Mr. Chakotay said something about his life belonging to you?"
She shook her head, obviously at a loss about how to take the reference, while Paris allowed himself a thoroughly evil grin.
"He'll be taking responsibility for your safety."
"I think I'm going to enjoy this," Paris admitted.
Janeway cocked her head in speculation. "Don't be so sure. He's also going to be my first officer. Everyone aboard this ship will report to him." She captured Paris's eyes with her own.
"Including the lieutenant assigned to the conn."
At first, he was going to snort and ask what the hell this had to do with him. But something in his throat knotted before any sound came out, and his brain caught up an instant later. "Me?"
"I've entered into the ship's log on this date that I'm granting a field commission of lieutenant to Thomas Eugene Paris." She leaned across the table to offer him her hand and a welcoming smile.
"Congratulations."
Paris wrapped her hand in both of his, shaking it with a gratefulness his heart didn't feel ready to contain. "For the first time in my life... I don't know what to say!"
He didn't even mean to it to be funny, but Janeway still smiled as she rounded the table to walk him toward the door. "You've earned this, Tom. I'm only sorry your father won't know."
It was the first time she'd spoken with anything approaching doubt.
That subtle change in her demeanor startled Paris into an honesty he never could have mustered if he'd tried. "He'll know," he promised her. "When we get back." Because if I can be standing here with your respect and a renewed commission, then I have to believe that anything is possible. Anything.
* Sometimes, it amazed Janeway how far a small amount of praise could go toward bolstering a young person's confidence. She wondered if it maybe wasn't so obvious to parents, who were often too entwined in their children's lives to have any real objectivity about what was going on. All she knew was that in the last few days, Tom Paris had somehow grown from an irresponsible child to a young adult any father would have been proud to raise. And contrary to what everyone had always feared about Paris, the loading of additional trust on his young shoulders had only pushed him that one step