Distant Shores - Marco Palmieri [110]
“Well, I didn’t start it!” he protested, his eyes going wide in a very endearing way. “The Kinbori attacked us-we were just defending ourselves!”
“Right,” B’Elanna Torres scoffed. “And then you ‘defended yourself’ against a whole Morphinian cafe-furniture and all.”
“Things got a little out of hand,” Harry admitted sheepishly. “I tried to reason with them, but nobody was listening. And then… well… it kind of became about defending the crew’s honor.”
“Oh, of course,” Marika laughed, clasping his shoulder. “Young Mr. Kim is a paragon of Starfleet honor, isn’t he?”
Tom Paris clapped Harry’s other shoulder, and the ensign looked uncomfortable in between them. “Oh, he’s our golden boy, Lieutenant. Honest, loyal, clean-cut, good to his mother…”
“Stop it,” Harry said, blushing. It made him even cuter. When he noticed how Marika was looking at him, he blushed deeper. “Uhmm, I’m gonna go get a refill,” he muttered, wriggling out from the group.
But Marika followed him over to the buffet. “Fruit punch, of course,” she said, grinning at his drink selection. “Sensible choice. I’ll have one too.” She waited, and naturally he did the polite thing and filled a glass for her. She clasped his hand against the glass when he gave it to her. Their eyes met for a moment, and there was so much potential there… but then he looked away and pulled his hand free to clear his throat.
Marika grinned. “You’re adorable when you blush, did you know that?” Which of course deepened his blush. “You remind me of-well, of Starfleet, I suppose. Of humanity. So young and idealistic, so unscarred and brimming with confidence in its ability to do good.”
Some fire showed in his eyes, but it was a warming fire. “I’m not some naive kid. Not after five years out here, all I’ve been through.”
“Of course not. But you’ve always had your crewmates, your friends to support you. Whatever you’ve been through, you still had this ship, something stable and comfortable to fall back on. You never grew up in a refugee camp, never had to sell yourself for a meal, never had to spend nine years as a Borg puppet.”
He fidgeted, unable to meet her eyes. She lifted his chin with her hand. “Don’t worry, Harry-I mean it as a compliment. Talking with you, seeing your innocence and purity, it reminds me of the way I felt when I finally got to Starfleet Academy. When for the first time in my life I could see people living in peace and equality, surrounded by beauty and wealth and a community that cared for them, and realized I could share in that life.
“In the past nine years I’ve seen such horror, inflicted so much evil… I’d almost forgotten what innocence and idealism were. It’s so comforting to feel them once again. It’s healing. And that’s something I really need right now, Harry Kim. I’d really like to explore those feelings with you.”
His expression wavered between emotions-compassion, attraction, embarrassment, anxiety. “But… I thought you were married.”
She lowered her eyes. “I was declared dead a long time ago. According to Voyager’s records, my… ex-husband remarried two years after I was assimilated. And I’m never going to see him again. I accepted that a long time ago.” Marika shook off the somber mood. “By any realistic standard, I’m available. How about you?”
“Lieutenant- “
“Call me Karah.”
“Umm, I’m very flattered, really. You’re a very attractive woman, don’t get me wrong. And you have my sympathies for… what you’ve been through. But… this is just going a little fast for me.”
“Unfortunately,” she said, “I don’t have the luxury of time.”
Finally he settled on an expression. To Marika’s regret, it was pity.
When they left the mixer, Harry kept looking expectantly at Tom Paris, waiting for the inevitable. He’d seen Tom watching him with Karah-with Lieutenant Marika, and he knew the helmsman had seen his reaction to her. But as the moments stretched on without a word from Tom, Harry grew more and more edgy, until finally he could take it no longer.