Seven of Nine - Christie Golden [16]
Something about their song.
No, not their song She turned wide eyes to the Doctor. "It's the ravens," she said. "They're-" But the Doctor pressed something metallic and cold to the base of her head. Seven heard a soft hissing, thought frantically, No! I have almost grasped it....
Then she knew no more.
"I THINK THEY'RE AWFULLY NICE," SAID PARIS, TAPPING the bright keys on the console. "Especially the kids.
One of the older ones-Priana, I think her name is-she's adorable. And real smart. We were walking through the corridor yesterday en route to the holodeck and she wanted to know -" "Can't anyone talk about anything but the Skedans?" snapped Torres.
Paris shot her a look. "A little touchy, aren't we?"
"I don't think so. They've been on board for three days now and no one can seem to come up with anything to talk about but them, how nice they are, how smart, how this, how that. Frankly, it's beginning to disgust me."
" Okay, okay," said Paris, fighting back a sudden burst of irritation.
Something had been bothering B'Elanna ever since the aliens came on board. She had seemed to take an instant dislike to them, especially the bright little female called Priana whom Tom had "adopted" for the duration of the stay. Tom couldn't figure it out. Admittedly, Torres didn't have the normal human tendency to get all mushy over cute kids, but she usually respected others unless they had done something of which she disapproved. And to the best of his knowledge, the refugees had done nothing except save the Voyager crew time and trouble. Priana was a sharp cookie, chock-full of questions and a lot of fun to be around. What was Torres's problem?
Whatever was bugging her extended to Tom. He hadn't been able to so much as put an arm around her recently. Anything more was out of the question, but she wouldn't give him a good answer as to why. After all they'd been through together-all he thought they'd meant to each other-Tom thought he at least deserved an explanation. Instead, all he got were more blasts of Torres temper. Too bad they couldn't bottle her vitriol-it'd make a hell of a weapon.
The warp drive was back on line. Captain Janeway had told him to spend the full shift working down here in Engineering if he needed it.
Normally he'd take advantage of the opportunity to be with B'Elanna.
Now, though, just being around her exasperated him. He couldn't get away fast enough.
"Problem solved," he said brusquely. "See you later." Without another word he strode out of Engineering, refusing to feel any sort of guilt even though he felt B'Elanna's gaze boring into his back.
As the door hissed open, he heard Vorik's calm voice stating, "To their credit, the Skedans are extremely logical." Paris smothered a grin.
The door closed before he could hear B'Elanna's outraged retort.
Paris found that he wasn't returning to the bridge as he had planned.
Instead, he was heading toward Cargo Bay One. His heart felt lighter with each step.
The captain wasn't expecting him back on the bridge for the rest of his shift. And he wasn't exactly ducking his duty, was he? Surely Captain Janeway would encourage her crew to be accessible to their guests, the ones responsible for their speedy passage.
The door hissed open. And as if she had been expecting him, little Priana was right by the door. Her large, soft eyes lit up.
"Tom!" she said, half-closing those eyes in a gesture of pleasure. "I am so pleased to see you!"
He felt the smile spreading across his face. Already the tense afternoon spent sniping at B'Elanna was fading from his memory. "I have a little bit of free time. If you'd like, we could finish our tour."
"I would enjoy that very much." Playfully, Tom bowed and extended his arm. Shyly, Priana looped her own arm through it and laughed. Her voice was melodious, soft-even her fur was soft and yielding.
Not words one would apply to B'Elanna Torres.
Priana was, overall, much better company than the fiery half-Klingon, and as they walked