This story was written for VAMB’s Secret Valentine exchange 2005.

Summary: A few stray clues and a little detective work help Tom, a 24th century Cupid, to confirm that his arrows have found their marks.

Disclaimer: Starfleet, Voyager, Tom, B’Elanna, Miral, Chakotay, and Kathryn all belong to Paramount. No infringement intended. The story, however, is mine.

Things That Go Bump in the Night

by mizvoy

From ghoulies and ghosties
And long-leggedy beasties
And things that go bump in the night,
Good Lord, deliver us!

-traditional Scottish prayer

Tom Paris was fast asleep and dreaming that his shuttle was about to win the annual Sol system pylon race when his wife’s sharp elbow in his ribs awakened him. He opened his eyes and heard the unmistakable wail of his daughter, Miral, in the nursery across the hall.

“It’s your turn,” B’Elanna Torres mumbled as she burrowed into her pillow.

“What time is it?” Tom answered, struggling to emerge from the dream.

“0200 or thereabouts.”

He sat up, rubbing his face to get the cobwebs out of his brain. “I thought babies slept through the night by the time they were two months old.”

“She sleeps through most nights. Maybe she heard something that woke her up.”

“At 0200? Only the security patrols drive around at this hour.”

B’Elanna raised her tousled head and gave him a wicked look. Miral’s racket was increasing exponentially, and they both knew that the longer she fussed, the longer it took to get her back to sleep. “We can debate this issue all night, Tom, or you can go pick her up and get her back to sleep.”

“All right, already. I’m going.” Tom sat up, pulled on his slippers, and snatched his robe from the foot of the bed. “Daddy’s coming,” he said as he quietly pulled the bedroom door closed behind him.

Miral’s desperate crying increased when she heard her daddy step into the nursery. Tom turned up the night light to a golden glow and leaned over the crib, only to find his tiny daughter struggling to get out from under the framed hand-embroidered sampler Captain Janeway had made for her. He glanced up at the small nail on the wall and wondered why it had fallen. Chakotay occupied the townhouse next to them in the Starfleet compound; he’d have to ask him if he’d noticed anything that might have made the sampler fall.

“Poor little warrior!” he cooed as he snatched the frame, leaned it against the end of the crib, and then quickly took Miral to the changing table where he could examine her for injuries as he changed her diaper. Relieved that the frame hadn’t bruised or injured her when it fell, he continued his playful banter. “Did that big, bad sampler try to ‘get’ you, darlin’?”

Miral gradually relaxed as her daddy’s calm voice soothed her. He changed her diaper, carried her to the kitchen replicator for a bottle of milk, and then settled into the nursery’s comfortable glider to rock her while she ate. He hummed a lullaby as she nursed, privately reliving the exciting dream he’d been having a few minutes earlier, relieved when her shining brown eyes grew unfocused and she dozed off.

Half-asleep himself, he gently placed his sleeping daughter in the crib and then spent a few minutes leaning over the railing and admiring her. Before he left the room, he picked up the sampler and debated whether to rehang above the crib and risk it falling on her again. He put it in the glider’s seat, instead, and headed back to bed. He thought it might be a good idea to hang the sampler on a different wall the next day.

Hours later, Tom was in the kitchen eating breakfast when B’Elanna came in with Miral cradled in one arm and the sampler in the other hand. “Would you please tell me what this was doing in the rocker?”

“I found it in bed with Miral last night. Or, to be more exact, I found it on top of her.”

“That’s strange. I found it in the crib night before last when she woke up.”

“I wonder why it fell.”

“Maybe she kicked the wall while she was crying. You know how active she can be, especially when she loses her temper and starts bawling.”

“Yes, I do.” Tom held his hands out for the baby. “The captain would be very upset if her gift injured Miral, don’t you think? Maybe we need to move it. ”

“Good idea. And I think I’ll pull the bed away from the wall while I’m at it. That way she can’t bump things off of the wall if she’s kicking.” She handed the baby to him and turned the frame so that she could read the verse of the Scottish prayer. “Who’d think something like a sampler would go ‘bump in the night’?”

“Stranger things have happened,” Tom said, bouncing a laughing Miral on his knee. “Haven’t they, darlin’?”

B’Elanna left right after breakfast to beam to San Francisco for a meeting, so Tom organized Miral’s diaper bag and took her to the day care center in the complex. Although it had been almost two months since Voyager’s return to the Alpha Quadrant, all of the crew was still in residence at the debriefing center in Denver, Colorado. There were some people who were frustrated by the delay of their unconditional release, but Tom was glad to have a “honeymoon” period where the crew could gradually get used to the idea of their shipboard family disintegrating.
When he left the day care center, he happened to run into one of the complex’s security men, so he stopped him and asked, “Was there some kind of noise or disturbance last night at about 2 a.m.?”

“Not that I’m aware of, sir,” the man answered with a frown of concern. “Did you hear something?”

“No, I was just wondering.”

“If there’s some sort of problem, let us know and we’ll be sure to patrol the area at about that time.”

“Thanks,” Tom said as he headed toward the transport station, jogging to catch up with Chakotay. “Hey, Commander! Hold up!”

The older man turned and waited, although he was clearly impatient with the delay. “I’m late this morning,” he explained as Tom caught up with him. “I’m supposed to be in a debriefing in less than ten minutes.”

“Me, too,” Tom replied as two men walked briskly down the sidewalk. He glanced at Chakotay, noticing how tired the man looked. “Did you have trouble sleeping?”

“No, I just got to bed late and then overslept this morning.”

Tom couldn’t resist asking, “Did you hear noises at about two o’clock this morning?”

Chakotay stopped in his tracks, a curious look on his face. “Two in the morning? Not that I recall. Why?”

“Miral woke up screaming right about that time. Seems like the sampler the captain made her fell off the wall and landed on top of her while she was asleep. We think maybe she kicked the wall and knocked it off herself. If she did, you probably would’ve heard her.” Tom turned to look back at his friend. “Aren’t you coming? I thought you were in a hurry.”

“Oh, yeah, I am.” Chakotay rubbed his mouth with his hand and started walking again, this time more slowly, his eyes thoughtful. “Miral’s bedroom shares a wall with my place, right?” When Tom nodded, he continued, “I got to bed late, around two-maybe she heard me moving around in there.”

Tom laughed. “It would take a lot more than noise to knock a picture off the wall, Chakotay.”

The older man blushed. “Oh, yeah. Right.”

“She didn’t keep you up, I hope.”

“I didn’t hear a thing.”

They arrived at the transporter and arranged to be beamed to the debriefing center in downtown Denver. “Are you going to see the captain today?” Tom asked as they arrived and walked out into the faint February sun in the quadrangle.

“Ah . . . um,” Chakotay stuttered, obviously flustered, “I’m heading to San Francisco later this morning, and I might run into her in the cafeteria at lunch.”

“She asked me to remind her when Valentine’s Day was, and I’ve been meaning to let her know that it’s tomorrow-February 14th.”

“Valentine’s Day?” Chakotay frowned. “Sounds familiar. Was that one of Neelix’s holiday inventions?”

“No, it’s an old Earth saint’s day. For lovers.” Tom gave him an exaggerated wink. “I’m thinking maybe the captain finally has a man in her life and wants to use Valentine’s Day as an excuse to express her feelings.”

“Maybe so.” He blushed again. “If I see her, I’ll tell her.”

Tom watched his former first officer walk away and shook his head. “That was an odd conversation,” he muttered.

“I hate Mondays,” B’Elanna complained as she sat down next to Captain Janeway at a conference table in Federation Hall. Three senior Starfleet engineers sat down across from them for another day of debriefings. “I especially hate Mondays that are dedicated to nitpicking Voyager’s engineering upgrades.”
“I’m just glad to have weekends again,” Janeway smiled, giving B’Elanna a reassuring pat on the arm. “These debriefings will all be over soon, and you and Tom can take a much-needed vacation.”

“A vacation won’t help as long as Miral keeps waking us up at night.”

“I thought you said she was a good sleeper.”

“She is, most of the time.” B’Elanna stifled a yawn. “But last night she had us up at two o’clock. And the same thing happened the night before, too.”

“Really?” Janeway squirmed in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “Maybe there’s a loud air handler that switches on about then.”

“Could be, but it wouldn’t explain how the sampler you made her ended up in her crib.”

Janeway grew very still, her eyes wide with concern. “The one you hung over her bed?”

“Yeah. Both nights when she woke us up, it had fallen on top of her. I’m thinking she might have kicked the wall and knocked it off.” B’Elanna grew thoughtful, imagining the layout of the two townhouses. “She shares that wall with Chakotay’s bedroom. I wonder if he heard a noise at that hour.”

Janeway ignored the question, although she seemed anxious to solve the problem. “Miral wasn’t hurt, was she?” She glanced away and lowered her voice to a conspirational level. “I couldn’t forgive myself I did something that injured her.”

“Well, you can’t be held accountable for your sampler.” B’Elanna said with a chuckle. “I don’t think she was hurt as much as she was just scared. We’re going to hang the sampler on another wall and put a nice quilt there-something soft that won’t hurt her if it falls off.”

Before Janeway could answer, the chief of Starfleet engineering entered the room and started the meeting. Even so, B’Elanna sensed that Janeway was upset, for some reason, and chastised herself for telling her about the sampler-the captain had enough to worry about without adding Miral’s sleeping habits to the list.

Later that evening, B’Elanna rocked Miral in the nursery, patiently waiting for the infant to finish her last meal of the day and settle down to sleep-for the entire night this time, with any luck. Since she had little else to contemplate in the dark silence, B’Elanna imagined the layout of the townhouse next door and realized that when she and Tom had helped him move in, Chakotay had put the headboard of his bed against the wall that he shared with Miral’s bedroom. If the bed was still in the same location, and if Chakotay were moving around on it, he could have made the headboard hit the wall and consequently knock the sampler off onto Miral. It was possible, but, what would he be doing at 2 a.m.? Tossing and turning in bed?
She smiled, knowing what she and Tom would likely be doing in their bed at that hour, and quite actively. But Chakotay? According to the rumors, he had been dating Seven of Nine when Voyager returned to the Alpha Quadrant, but B’Elanna had noticed little actual evidence of that relationship in the weeks since, and she’d watched them carefully. Nor had she seen him with any other woman.

She briefly wondered if Seven of Nine might have been next door last night for some late-night activities, but the idea only made her laugh. It was hard to imagine Seven of Nine in a passionate mode that would involve rocking a headboard against a wall. And she knew that Seven was involved in nearly round-the-clock cybernetic research in San Antonio.

“Is the little warrior sleeping yet?” Tom asked as he crept into the room and knelt beside the rocker.

“Just about.” She smiled at him and nodded at the crib. “I pulled her bed out from the wall, just in case she did kick through the slats.”

“Good. You know, Chakotay said he got to sleep late last night. Maybe Miral’s kicking the wall made enough racket to keep him awake.”

“Or vice versa.” She gave him an exaggerated wink.

Tom’s eyes widened with surprise as he turned to look at the shared wall. “Chakotay? Do you think he’s found someone new?”

“I never knew him to be without female companionship before Voyager, and I was shocked he didn’t connect with someone from the crew. Maybe now that we’re home, he’s reverting to his Maquis habits,” she speculated as she put Miral on her shoulder for a burp.

The serene silence of the nursery was shattered by a loud crash next door that made Miral jump in her mother’s arms and then let out a powerful shriek of complaint.

“What the . . .?” Tom got up and walked to the wall, shouting over Miral’s cries, “Hey! Chakotay? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” came the muffled reply. “I was moving a table and knocked something over. Sorry to wake up the baby.”

“Need any help?”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks.”

Tom turned to B’Elanna, who was pacing the floor with the still-fussing baby, and shrugged his shoulders. “Who would he be involved with? Surely not Seven.”

“I doubt it.”

They gazed at each other, thinking the mystery through. Tom said, “You know, the captain asked when Valentine’s Day was, and I thought maybe she’d found someone to become involved with. Do you think . . . ?” He nodded meaningfully toward Chakotay’s townhouse.

B’Elanna laughed. “After all these years, Tom? You never give up on your hopes for the captain and commander to get together, do you?”

“Everybody knows they make a good team.” He paused, listening to the sounds of a heavy piece of furniture being dragged across the floor next door. “I think Chakotay must be rearranging his bedroom.”

“You do realize that his bed was against Miral’s wall, right?” She put Miral in the crib and covered the sleeping baby with a light blanket. “You told him about the picture falling off the wall, didn’t you?”

“I mentioned it.” He grew thoughtful, realizing that perhaps their neighbor did have a new love interest, after all. “I wonder who she could be?”

“I imagine we’ll find out when the time’s right.” She turned off the light and took her husband’s hand. “In the meantime . . . I might have some plans of my own.”

Tom smiled and followed his wife from the room.

Neither Tom nor B’Elanna was expected at a meeting until late the next morning, so when B’Elanna awakened, Tom arrived with breakfast in bed-heart-shaped banana pancakes, fresh-squeezed orange juice, fresh fruit salad, coffee, and a single red rose delivered on a tray.
“Wow! What did I do to deserve this?” she said as she sat up in bed and gazed at the delicious meal.

“I told you about Valentine’s Day last night, remember?”

“You said the captain asked about it, but you didn’t say it was today. February 14th?” She picked up her fork and speared a piece of fruit. “It’s a day for breakfast in bed?”

“It’s a day to express your love to the special person in your life. Breakfast in bed. Flowers. Boxes of candy. Candle-lit dinners. Champagne.”

“And the reward for this special treatment would be . . . ?” B’Elanna laughed, giving him a wink and patting the bed. “As if I didn’t know?”

Tom grew serious and sat down beside her, taking her hand and sitting quietly for a long time, staring at their interlaced fingers. Finally, he looked up at her, and she could see the love in his eyes. “Sex is just the icing on the cake, as far as I’m concerned. All I ever want is for you to love me back, B’Elanna.”

She blinked back tears at the sincerity of his words and then squeezed his hand. “I do, Tom. I love you back.”

Later that morning, Tom walked briskly toward the transport station, hoping to be able to beam into San Francisco in time for his eleven o’clock meeting at Starfleet. Much to his surprise, he turned the corner to find the captain walking just a block or so ahead of him. While all of the Voyager crew lived on the compound, Janeway lived on the far side, in the VIP high-rise that had its own high priority transport station. It was unusual for her to be so far from her own quarters, especially at this time of the day. She was usually the first one to beam out to San Francisco and the last one to beam back.

“Captain!” he shouted, breaking into a trot. “Captain Janeway! Wait!”

When she stopped and turned toward him, he noticed that she had a large bouquet of roses in her arms. She blushed deeply, but kept her chin high. “Tom! What a surprise to see you.”

“I was going to say the same thing,” he answered, stopping beside her to catch his breath. “I thought you owned the keys that unlocked the doors at Starfleet every morning.”

She smiled. “Well, I do prefer to get there early most days-but today is an exception.”

“We all need to sleep in now and then.” He fell into step beside her, walking for a few moments in silence. “Those are some pretty flowers you have there.”

“Thank you. They’re called peace roses. I’m especially fond of them.”

“What’s the occasion?”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Occasion? Do I have to have a reason for getting fresh flowers, Mr. Paris? Maybe I want to cheer up my quarters.”

“Flowers like that would cheer up any place,” Tom agreed as they arrived at the transport station. He decided not to remind her of the fact that there was no flower shop on the compound. If she wanted to pretend that she’d walked six miles to and from the nearest shop, he was not about to confront her about it.

Janeway paused and glanced down at the flowers in her arms, as if realizing that she would have to go by her apartment or create a spectacle by carrying the roses with her to work. “I’ll drop these at my apartment before I leave. I’ll see you later, Tom.”

“Sure, Captain.” As she turned toward the opposite side of the compound, he added, “Oh, did Chakotay remember to let you know that today is Valentine’s Day?” She stopped and looked back at him, a blush returning to her cheeks. Tom repressed a grin, although he did take a lingering glance at the flowers. “Sorry to be so late in letting you know.”

The captain gave him an inscrutable look. “Valentine’s Day? Whatever are you talking about, Tom?”

He knew precisely what she was doing. He’d seen her use this same type of challenge dozens of times on the bridge when a diplomat pushed her just a little too far for information. She deliberately placed the burden of clarification on the other person. It was actually a dare. If he really wanted to know whether the flowers were a gift she’d received for Valentine’s Day, he would have to be brave enough ask her directly, and he wasn’t quite that brave. “Seeing the roses reminded me, that’s all. Flowers are a traditional Valentine’s gift.”

She narrowed her eyes at his thinly-veiled insinuation, but let the comment pass without confirming or denying his suspicions. “Thanks for the reminder, Tom, even if it is a little late. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to hurry or I’ll be late for a meeting.” She turned and walked quickly toward her building, preventing any follow-up discussion.

Tom watched her walk away, a thousand questions forming in his mind. He knew perfectly well that she had been given those flowers by someone right here on the compound, although she refused to admit it. Not only that, she was never in the compound in the middle of the day, and seldom this far from her own apartment’s location. She must have been visiting another member of the crew, a person who knew it was Valentine’s Day and cared about her enough to give her an armful of roses.

He smiled to himself, “Someone like Chakotay.”

“You’re telling me that the captain left work early?” B’Elanna Torres stood outside Janeway’s San Francisco office holding a report she’d promised to bring Janeway before close of business. “But, she wanted to go over the final draft of my report tonight in advance of our 0800 meeting in the morning!”
“Nobody was more surprised than I was by her early departure,” the administrative aide replied as she finished packing up her desk for the night. “She seemed distracted all day, as if she couldn’t concentrate, and she didn’t sit down for more than five minutes at a time. She finally admitted that she strained her back last night helping a friend rearrange furniture and wanted to go take a hot bath to relax.”

B’Elanna stared at her, remembering the sounds of scraping furniture in Chakotay’s townhouse. “She helped move furniture?”

“That’s what she said.” The aide ordered the office lights down and stood up to leave. “You could leave the PADD here, Lieutenant. The captain will probably arrive early enough to read it before the meeting.”

Tom Paris, who had been listening to the conversation intently, simply shook his head. “I think we should just drop it by her apartment, B’Elanna,” he interrupted. “She probably wants to see that tonight before she turns in.”

“All right,” the aide agreed as she followed them out of the office and down the hall. “I’m taking advantage of the rare opportunity to get home early and eat dinner with the kids.”

Tom and B’Elanna were silent as they rode the lift to the ground floor and said goodbye to the captain’s aide. Once they were alone and walking through the grounds, B’Elanna said, “I know what you’re thinking, Tom, but be careful not to jump to conclusions.”

“Don’t you think it’s interesting that Janeway hurt her back moving a friend’s furniture the same night we heard Chakotay rearranging things in his bedroom?”

“It could be a simple coincidence, Tom.”

“Maybe, but explain this: why was she walking away from our part of the complex carrying at least two dozen roses when I was on my way to work this morning?”

B’Elanna frowned. “You think Chakotay gave them to her.”

“I’d told him yesterday morning that today was Valentine’s Day-so he had plenty of time to get roses for the captain.”

“But that would mean that she spent the night in his townhouse.”

Tom gave her an irreverent grin. “It sure would-hence the need to move the headboard away from the wall.”

B’Elanna was still unwilling to take appearances at face value. “Why would they use Chakotay’s place when hers is bigger, fancier, and more secluded?”

Tom smiled. “Think about it. If you wanted to take your PADD to Janeway’s quarters tonight, what would happen when you arrived at the V.I.P. building?”

“I’d have to go through the security desk in the lobby.”

“Exactly. Nobody gets into or out of the building unnoticed. They even keep a log of visitors-when they come and when, or if, they leave.” He let that fact sink in. “In contrast, where we’re living?”

“People can come and go as they please.” She stopped in her tracks and gave him an appreciative look. “You’ve been waiting for this relationship to happen for so long, Tom, that you’re inventing it out of thin air.”

“Oh, yeah?” He took the PADD from her hands. “How were you expecting to deliver this to the captain tonight?”

“I was going to take it to her apartment.”

“Ten to one she won’t be at home.”

“And then what?”

“Then let me deliver it for you.” He gave her a wink. “I think I know exactly where to find her.”

B’Elanna laughed. “Okay, you’re on. Maybe once this effort fails, you’ll give up on this Janeway and Chakotay fixation you’ve had for the last seven years.”

“Maybe. We’ll see.”

Miral was having one of those nights that make parents rethink their decision to have children. She didn’t want to be held, didn’t want to be put down, didn’t want to eat, didn’t want to sleep. All she seemed to want to do was cry. Tom and B’Elanna took turns rocking her and walking her through the townhouse, struggling to keep their sanity in spite of the incessant siren of their baby’s wail.
“The doctor said there’d be days like this,” Tom reminded his exasperated wife. “Babies have to do a certain amount of crying to exercise their lungs.”

“I just hope she wears out before I start crying right along with her.”

It was after dinner before Miral finally fell asleep on her mother’s shoulder, still taking occasional gulps of air as she struggled to settle down. B’Elanna patiently rocked her as Tom sprawled on the nursery room floor, staring blindly at the ceiling. He’d insisted on waiting until after dinner before calling Captain Janeway’s apartment. The security desk in Janeway’s building answered and indicated that she was not in her quarters and had requested that only emergency calls be forwarded to her. There was a pause as the guard checked his records. “You can leave the report it here at the front desk, and we’ll give it to her when she returns.”

“That’s not necessary,” Tom replied. “Thanks anyway.”

“So she isn’t at home,” B’Elanna said when she saw his triumphant grin. “She could be anywhere.”

“She could be anywhere, but she isn’t.” He tossed the PADD in the air and caught it. “When the time is right, I’ll take it to her.”

“What are you waiting for? Why don’t you just call Chakotay and ask to talk to her?”

“Oh, B’Elanna, please!” He rolled his eyes at her lack of foresight. “Do you really think he’d admit she was there just like that? He’d say he’d try to get in touch with her and have her call us back. Then, after a suitable period of time, she’d call back, and we’d be none the wiser.”

“You’re probably right,” she agreed with a sigh. “So what’s the plan?”

“I think I’ll just relax right here for awhile and listen for those ‘bumps in the night’ next door.”

“Good grief.” B’Elanna shook her head and glanced down at the sleeping baby. “Daddy’s turning into a voyeur, Miral.”

“I just need for things to progress past a ‘point of no return,’ that’s all. I don’t want to get over there and have him say, ‘Oh, the captain was just leaving.'”

“These walls are pretty well insulated,” she warned him. “Even if they’re even together tonight, you might not hear anything.”

“You must be kidding. It’s Valentine’s Day, B’Elanna. Where else would they be but together.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, that’s right. They’d be doing something romantic like we are-rocking a fussing baby all night.”

“Have you already forgotten your breakfast in bed?” he grinned at her. “And the special ‘dessert’ we shared.”

“Not hardly.” She just shook her head as she returned the grin. “I can’t believe you’re so sure that those two are together.”

“You didn’t spend hours and hours on the bridge feeling the heat they generated warming your backside like a bonfire.”

“Was that the heat of attraction between them or the heat of their joint irritation with your impudence?”

“Maybe a little of both,” he laughed. “I’m talking about the ‘down’ times, B’Elanna, when there was nothing to be done but just watch the stars stream by. Oh, I admit that the temperature cooled down over the years, but there were enough times when I thought for sure my uniform would melt to my skin.” He studied the surface of the PADD with a smile on his face. “What surprises me is that it took so long for them to get together.”

“We’ve barely been home seven weeks,” she reminded him.

“My point exactly,” he replied, giving her a wink. “I expected them to be together before we reached orbit.”

The room grew quiet as Miral finally relaxed completely. B’Elanna slept a little as she continued to rock the baby, and Tom closed his eyes and rested on the carpet, intently listening for muffled noises from next door. He hadn’t really figured out what his plans would be until Miral had started her fussiness that evening. He opened one eye and admired the image of his wife and child in the soft light, wishing he could bottle these contented moments for use at a later, more stressful time.

Just when Tom was about to give up, the murmur of voices next door caught his attention, punctuated by a laugh that sounded much too feminine to have come from Chakotay. B’Elanna’s eyes opened in surprise. “Did you hear that?” she whispered.

“Time to put the plan in action.” He stood up and stretched, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he thought about how to proceed. “Wish me luck?”

“If that’s really the captain over there,” B’Elanna chuckled, “you’re going to need a lot more than just luck.”

“She wouldn’t deprive Miral of her daddy, would she?”

“You’d better hope not, fly boy.”

It was a chilly night, so Tom slipped on a jacket as he left his townhouse for the quick walk to Chakotay’s door. He was halfway across their shared yard, just outside Chakotay’s downstairs window, when he noticed that the vertical blinds were slightly open. He stopped and peeked inside, seeing the living room lit by scattered candles and a waning fire in the holographic fireplace. He smiled to himself as he speculated about the soft music that was probably playing in the background, the wine glasses left on the coffee table, the articles of clothing strewn through the house.

He stepped up to the door and took a deep, calming breath, reminding himself that MOST of what he was about to say was close to the truth—close enough to prevent Chakotay from punching him in the nose. He remembered many pranks he’d gone through with successfully when he’d had even less credibility. All good things come at a price.

He stuck his face into one of the glass panes of the door’s sidelights but was unable to see anything but the faint glow of light. Chakotay was definitely upstairs, and probably not alone. Tom knocked firmly on the door and then listened for a response, hearing only silence from inside. After a suitable pause, he knocked again, only louder this time, and was rewarded with a muffled reply and the sounds of movement from the second floor. He made sure he was standing under the townhouse’s small portico which prevented anyone in an upstairs window from seeing who was at the door. The lights came on in the foyer, and then someone was fumbling with the door’s locking mechanism.

“Tom!” Chakotay peered at him through a narrow crack in the door, no doubt wondering why his neighbor hadn’t just commed him instead of coming over. “Is something wrong?”

“I need to ask a favor,” Tom said as he pushed his way into the townhouse. He acted surprised to see that Chakotay was dressed in a robe. “Oh! I didn’t realize that you were in bed.”

“I was . . . getting ready for bed,” he replied as he pushed the front door shut. Tom could see the remains of a romantic dinner for two in the small dining area behind Chakotay—linen-covered table, two spent candles, an empty wine bottle, and a centerpiece of roses-peace roses. There was also the unmistakable aroma of fresh-brewed coffee in the air. “What is it you need, Tom?” Chakotay’s voice was carefully controlled, and Tom knew from experience that the man was more than a little irritated by the interruption.

“Miral has been fussy all evening,” Tom began, rubbing his forehead as he spoke. “I imagine you’ve heard her crying.”

“Just once in awhile. But babies cry. She didn’t bother us . . . me.” Chakotay winced at his choice of pronoun. “Could it be that she’s teething already?”

“We don’t know what’s wrong with her. B’Elanna’s afraid she might be coming down with something, so we’re thinking that one of us might have to take her to see the doctor tomorrow. If we do, it will have to be me, because B’Elanna has a meeting at 0800.”

Chakotay sighed in resignation. “What can I do to help?”

“You know Jeff Goetting in the propulsion lab in San Francisco?” Chakotay nodded. “Well, tomorrow is his kid brother’s birthday, and I promised to bring him a copy of the Captain Proton holodeck program to give him as a gift. The thing is, he needs it before lunch.” He pulled an isolinear chip out of his coat pocket. “In case I’m tied up with Miral, could you take it to him in the morning?”

Chakotay relaxed and gave Tom a grin as he took the chip. “I’d be happy to do that, Tom. I have a meeting near the propulsion lab, anyway, so I can just swing by there on my way.”

“Thanks.” He casually gazed past Chakotay’s shoulder into the townhouse, taking in the disarray with his mouth agape. At first he feigned surprise at the evidence of a romantic meal, and then he pretended to be embarrassed as the romantic nature of the scenario sank in. “Oh, wow, Chakotay, I did interrupt something, didn’t I?”

Chakotay’s eyes narrowed as he moved to shield the rest of the interior from his visitor’s eyes. “Don’t worry about it,” he said softly, a tone of menace in his voice.

“I . . . I feel terrible, Chakotay,” Tom faltered, feigning mortification. As he turned to leave, he stopped short. On the back of the sofa was draped a small Starfleet tunic and on the floor was a pair of very familiar boots with three-inch heels-Janeway’s. With a knowing glance at Chakotay, who was increasingly anxious to end their discussion, Tom said, “Why, aren’t those boots the captain’s?”

“Well . . . they’re . . . I mean . . . .” Chakotay paused, at a complete loss for words.

“Actually, this works out great,” Tom interrupted, pulling a PADD from his pocket. “The captain wanted to look at B’Elanna’s report before their meeting at 0800 in the morning. After my stop here, I was planning to walk over to her quarters to deliver this.” He extended his hand so Chakotay could take the PADD. “I’d sure appreciate it if you’d give it to her for me and save me the trip.”

The townhouse was so quiet that Tom could hear Miral wailing next door over the classical guitar music playing softly in the living room. Chakotay stood before him like a statue and stared at the PADD, struggling to think of an appropriate reaction. Tom was about to say something to break the tension when the tableau was suddenly interrupted by the sound of someone descending the staircase.

“Give up, Chakotay,” Janeway said as she appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She was in her stocking feet and wore only her uniform trousers and her sleeveless undershirt. “We might was well admit that we’ve been caught.”

“Well, hello there, Captain,” Tom grinned, thrilled that his plan had gone so well. “What a pleasant surprise to find you here.”

She gave him a tolerant smirk as she walked to Chakotay’s side and took the PADD from Tom’s hand, pausing to glance up at her former first officer. “I told you Tom was onto us.” After a moment of amusement, she grew serious, and as she spoke, she sought Chakotay’s hand. “We’d like to keep this in the ‘family’ for now, Tom. We aren’t sure how Starfleet will react to our being involved with each other and want to wait awhile before we go public.”

“Oh, I understand that perfectly, Captain,” Tom nodded, trying to wipe the goofy grin from his face. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“It had better be,” Chakotay grumbled, glancing down at Janeway with a look so tender that Tom’s heart tightened in his chest. “We’ve waited much too long to have this taken from us now.”

“Understood.” Tom backed toward the door, feeling behind his back for the handle. “Well, I guess I’ll go help B’Elanna deal with the baby.” He paused and watched as Janeway slid her hand around Chakotay’s waist, and Chakotay draped an arm across her shoulders. Tom couldn’t help but beam at them. “It’s great to see you two together at last. I’ve always thought you’d make a perfect couple.”

“Thanks, Tom,” they said in unison. Laughing, Janeway added, “Your stamp of approval means a lot to us.”

“Well, I definitely approve.” He gave them a wink as he pulled the door closed behind him. He stood on the front step congratulating himself for successfully confirming the truth about the command team’s new relationship. Although their voices were muffled, he could hear them talking inside, probably discussing the situation and speculating about his ability to keep their secret.

They had no idea of the secrets Tom Paris knew and kept.

He looked into the sky toward the Delta Quadrant, suddenly flooded with memories. In spite of B’Elanna’s consistent skepticism, he’d known that there was a special bond between Voyager’s commanding officers from early on in their journey, a deep affection that they refused to explore because of their responsibilities to the crew. By the end of their sixth year, however, he’d despaired of them ever getting together, and so, apparently, had Chakotay. But it wasn’t until their captivity on Quarra that Chakotay truly let go of his hopes. Tom had actually seen it happen, although what he had seen hadn’t become clear to him until a few weeks later.

When it had happened, Tom had known Chakotay as “Amal Kotay,” a new worker on Quarra who had befriended Janeway at her workplace. Tom had overheard Janeway tell Amal that she and her boyfriend, Jaffen, had decided to move in together. Amal’s expression at the news had struck Tom as being unusually emotional for someone who was a new acquaintance, as if her decision had been a tremendous disappointment or a personal affront. He’d shrugged off the reaction as that of a man who’s plans to date a coworker had been abruptly dashed, and later, he’d attributed it to the fact that Chakotay had been injured and was in a great deal of pain. Neither was the truth.

The truth was that seeing Janeway as she was on Quarra was an epiphany for Chakotay, a moment of clarity. She was a friendly, outgoing woman who was romantically involved with a fellow worker, everything she couldn’t be to him as long as they were the captain and first officer on Voyager. At that moment Chakotay faced the truth about the futility of his own relationship with her and truly understood that they would probably never be together. The pain on Chakotay’s face was there because at that moment he’d given up hope. Later, when the crew returned to the ship and regained their memories, Tom sensed that the electricity he’d always felt between his commanding officers seemed to have at long last shorted out, and he worried about what might happen next.

It wasn’t long before Tom noticed that the first officer and Seven of Nine were spending more time together than usual. He picked up on the subtle change in the way Chakotay treated both the former drone and the captain. Tom guessed that as Chakotay’s dreams of being with the captain died, they were being replaced by a budding courtship with Seven of Nine. No one else seemed aware of this new development, especially not Janeway, so Tom had kept his suspicions to himself. If Chakotay had been crushed by the demise of his hope, Janeway would, in Tom’s opinion, be devastated to see him move on-a view that was soon confirmed by the attitude and behavior of the admiral who traveled back in time to rescue the crew.

Like everyone else on the crew, Tom wondered what had happened in Admiral Janeway’s timeline that made her want to erase twenty-six years of her past. Obviously, she was miserable with the way things had turned out and anxious to make significant changes for the better. What struck Tom most was her odd behavior when she interacted with certain members of the senior staff, especially the first officer. She looked at Chakotay with sorrow and regret in her eyes, and both she and the captain acted as if they were witnessing a gruesome catastrophe whenever they witnessed Chakotay and Seven together. Yet, Tom knew that no matter how much it hurt her, Janeway would do nothing to damage the budding romance.

The only person in a position to set things right was Tom Paris himself, and he would have to be discreet about it if he was to avoid bringing the righteous anger of his captain down on his head. The solution he came up with was elegant in its simplicity. After Voyager was in earth orbit, he made his way to the mess hall to share pictures of his newborn daughter with the members of the crew who had gathered to celebrate. When everyone there had his undivided attention, he casually mentioned that the Janeway/Chakotay betting pool would now reopen.

The crew spent two hours relating story after story about times when the attraction between Janeway and Chakotay had been obvious, and the betting pool had quickly mushroomed as everyone guessed how long it would be before they finally acted on that attraction. Of course, Tom had made sure that Seven of Nine was in the mess hall when the discussion began, and he had kept a close eye on her as she listened to the stories in stoic silence. He could detect nothing in her demeanor to make him think she was surprised or upset by anything she heard, but he did confirm later that there had been a tenuous relationship that had not survived the return to the Alpha quadrant. Whether or not his plan had helped bring the relationship to a speedy end, Tom liked to think that it had helped. For whatever it was worth, Tom saw no further evidence of a romance between them.

He shook his head, knowing that if B’Elanna had found out about his scheme, she would have accused him of meddling in things that were none of his business. But, he told himself, he hadn’t known for sure that Seven and Chakotay were dating, so how could he be held accountable for their breakup? He preferred to think of himself as a twenty-fourth-century Cupid who had helped bring together two lovers who had nobly sacrificed their chance for happiness to their duty to Voyager and her crew. Besides, he shrugged, a grin on his face, all’s fair in love and war.

He started across the yard, pausing again to glance into the townhouse through the narrow slits in the blinds. What he saw was so compelling that he found it impossible to look away. Janeway and Chakotay were kissing in the entryway, locked in an embrace so passionate that Tom’s pulse quickened at the sight. After what seemed like an eternity, the couple pulled a few inches apart and stared into each other’s eyes. Janeway cupped Chakotay’s face with her hand, and he turned his head to kiss her palm. Then he swept her into his arms and carried her swiftly up the stairs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Tom whispered. He swallowed hard and blinked back the tears that the tender scene brought to his eyes, and then, with a satisfied smile, he hurried home to tell B’Elanna the good news.