Title: A Whisper to a Scream, part five
Author: Judith Medina
Email: odogoddess@aol.com
Size: 20K
Rating: R
Codes: A, F; C/T
Teaser: Set just after Faces, B'Elanna is set on enjoying her new-found -
though short-lived - 'humanity'.

That Annoying Author's Note You Can Ignore:  Okay!  I penned this fanfic
and it was zine-published first season, just after the episode "Faces", so
it's a tad dated, but (hopefully) still interesting.  It came about as a
response to subtle clues in the complex relationship Torres and Chakotay
seemed to have early on; a teasing one of complete understanding and
complete respect for each others strengths...and weaknesses.  There was
also a foreshadowing of the attraction B'Elanna is shown to have for him,
which she has since transferred to a man, IMO, more in keeping with her
fiery temper and background:  Tom Paris.  And I feel the P/T relationship
stands a good chance at the long haul.  But this story was written first
season... remember? <g>

DISCLAIMER:  This non-profit material was produced out of love for Star
Trek: Voyager and is not intended to infringe upon the Star Trek copyrights
of Viacom, Paramount Pictures Corporation, nor those of any other legal
holders of Star Trek copyrights, in this or any other universe...

        ----------------------------------
A Whisper To A Scream
by Judith Medina (OdoGoddess@aol.com)


"Chakotay, why didn't you tell me Durst left me something in his will?" 
B'Elanna asked him later that evening as they finished dinner, having 
already enjoyed a quick and rather unceremonious lovemaking session upon 
arrival into her quarters earlier.

The Commander blinked. "You were still off-duty, on sick-leave and you 
had a lot on your mind, B'Elanna. I told Tuvok to hold onto whatever it 
was until you were back on duty, feeling better."

"Hmm." It was the only response B'Elanna made and suddenly Chakotay had 
the impression she was going to ask him to sleep in his own quarters 
tonight.

_Well, she has the right to,_ he argued to himself. It wasn't as if they 
were an  item, merely old friends who had enjoyed one another once, and 
now again when one of them had required support the other would readily 
give, as only such good friends as they were and remained, would give, 
and he could not fault her wanting to distance herself again. It was not 
the same as a true relationship and probably wouldn't be unless they 
chose to make a permanent commitment to one another some time in the 
unforeseeable future. This wasn't impossible he knew, since they were 
both seventy-five thousand light-years from a home it was unlikely they 
would ever see again and all this crew had was each other. He would not, 
however, press the issue; B'Elanna had gone through enough these last 
two weeks. Still, he hoped now that she did not regret what they'd done.

_Seska isn't here anymore and this is one of the few women on board that 
you wouldn't mind staking claim with, Nature Boy,_ he reminded himself 
now. Despite his preternatural awareness, her sudden statement still 
startled him.

"Chakotay...I think I need to be alone tonight." 

He sighed and nodded, not regretfully, but aware that their easy 
familiarity would return once again to shipboard co-worker/friends. 
_It's better than nothing at all, Nature Boy, eh?_ He went to her.

"Let me know if you need anything, all right, Relampaga?" he whispered 
against her ear, then kissed her cheek with warmth and tenderness 
unfeigned. 

She closed her eyes and cupped his face for a moment, then smiled at 
him. "I'll give a yell."

"I'd know your yell anywhere, B'Elanna Torres," Chakotay responded as of 
old and then he gracefully strode from the room.

The woman sighed deeply, feeling the tension inside her ease. She had 
set aside the disc into a pocket and now she fingered the edge of that 
same pocket, feeling the hard, even edge of the disc casing, then 
fishing it out into her palm where she studied it. The uneasiness had 
returned.

The disc had no label and B'Elanna was suddenly stricken by the fact 
that aside from his last name and rank, she knew nothing of this man 
Durst. With the same troubled expression on her face, she strode to her 
terminal, already ordering, "Computer. Access personnel file on 
Lieutenant Durst and display."

"Working."

As she reached the terminal, the screen lit up with an image of Durst's 
face and she swallowed down conflicting feelings to examine the 
adjoining personal statistics alongside the standard head-and-shoulders 
Starfleet identi-scan shot.

DURST, PETER BENNETT, Lieutenant, senior specialist/geology, 
astrophysics - Born 2336 at University of Betazed, Institute of 
Biological Medicine, mother's name: Jenetra Ch'liie Durst of Betazed, 
father's name: Darren Durst of Rigel VII. Died 2371 in the line of duty 
during investigative mission in Delta Quadrant.

_Betazoid,_ B'Elanna mused now, _Durst was half-Betazoid. What else 
didn't I know about this man?_

She eyed the disc, her fingers feeling the smooth edges and finally 
sighed and slipped it in the access-inset of her terminal, clearing the 
screen with a tab of the panel.

"Computer, review file contents on disc and replay."

"Working."

Momentarily the image of Durst filled her screen again, but this time 
animated. It was so startling and surreal that B'Elanna found herself 
hard-pressed to continue watching.

"B'Elanna...uh, Lieutenant, that is. Not that it matters, right? I'm not 
here anymore." Durst shrugged, his gentle eyes flicking unconsciously 
away from the screen, a nervous gesture she'd seen him emulate during 
life. Durst, she recalled, had seemed shy to her and her guess had been 
an accurate one.

"If you're wondering what I could possible have to say to you, well, 
I've been thinking the same thing myself. I mean, I never could just 
come out, or rather, come up and talk to a woman. Any woman. Even though 
I could tell if she was interested or not because of my empathic sense," 
he paused, then shrugged again. "You probably know by now my mother was 
Betazoid. She was beautiful. I guess I took after my father..."

The image of Durst smiled ruefully at this little attempt at humor, then 
blinked away this train of thought. "Well, I left this for you because I 
wanted you to know how I felt...even if it's once I'm dead. It's a 
comfort, believe me, to know that one way or another, you'll find out. 
And if we die together...well, I suppose I expect we'll all die out here 
in this quadrant. I've always expected to die in a Starfleet uniform so 
that's not so bad. I guess I just never expected to die so far from 
home. But it's not so bad since I'm not alone. I mean, we all have each 
other out here. And with you here...well-" B'Elanna blinked away tears.

"Either way, I...I wrote a poem for you. I'm, uh, not so good at it, not 
like my father was; leastwise my mother always said it was his poetry 
that won her over, but well...I try," Durst smiled shyly at the 
viewscreen, then looked down and away, as was his wont. B'Elanna 
recalled several instances she had seen him do this and smiled now, 
feeling a pang of remorse which she swallowed. "I won't read it to you, 
since my recital is probably worse than my poems, but it's recorded on 
this disc in an appended visual file, Lieutenant...uh, B'Elanna."

For a moment Durst's face froze and she thought the transmission had 
come to an end, then he looked up and said her name again. "B'Elanna. 
B'Elanna Torres. You know, I think your name is as beautiful as you are, 
were...to me."

Durst swallowed, then said, "Well, I'll let you read it now. Pete Durst, 
signing off." The viewscreen displayed his poem:

B'Elanna
by Peter Bennett Durst

You stalked past me to your cabin
and filled the hall with righteous anger
froze my simple heart with dread
and seared my soul in fire

And I dreamt of you that night
a glorious, stormy, passion-dream
that filled my mind with visions of you
and burned me with desire

Thus have passed the many light-years
faraway from all we knew and know
still I'm glad to work beside you
on the journey which remains

For should we never reach our goal
has mattered little since I felt
the fiery tendrils of your passion
burning deep within my veins

But for the chance to lie beside you
on some forbidden heated night
held tight within your strong embrace
not just a waking dream

I would strive to give you wholly
of self and soul, if only, you would
out of isolation lift me with you
from a whisper to a scream


B'Elanna sat, stunned, unmoving, but not unmoved, overwhelmed with a 
sense of loss greater than tears could express, greater even than how 
she'd felt when she discovered her Klingon features had reasserted 
themselves and marked her again as a Klingon. Poor Durst...

_Peter,_ her mind chided. Peter forever gone. With only this poem to 
speak of the man he'd been. A man of hidden passions. Much as she was a 
woman of hidden tenderness. Opposites...and yet.

She tried to recall all the times she had passed him, worked with him 
and the only time she could recollect was that first chilly day on the 
Vidiian moon, still free as they'd clambered around stalagmites, 
scanning for useful minerals. He had stayed close to her, but now 
B'Elanna remembered how she had simply assumed this was some misguided 
sense of concern over her welfare. 

_Just because I'm a woman,_ she'd sneered, annoyed. This attitude was 
especially strong in Human males and it had made her lose patience with 
him more than once. To her shame, she now remembered having snapped at 
him, "Stop hovering, Durst! Do you think I'm some helpless female?"

What had the hapless man replied? "Never that, B'Elanna... er, 
Lieutenant."

She'd merely snapped back, "Then stand aside while at least one of us 
gets some work done!"

B'Elanna winced now. _I was more right than I knew when I told Chakotay 
I must sound like a bitch! And I was completely Human when I said that. 
Human as in humanity, as in humane. Why must that side of me stay 
hidden? Why am I so... brusque, so abrupt?_

She found herself standing and striding from the room without pause.

        =/\=  *  *  *  =/\=  *  *  *  =/\=

Captain Janeway seemed only mildly surprised to find her Chief Engineer 
at her door. Her tone, however, remained calm and congenial.

"Lieutenant Torres, what can I do for you?"

Without asking to enter, still standing in the hallway, B'Elanna replied 
breathlessly, "Captain, I know I agreed to start back today, but would 
it be alright with you if I took tomorrow off? Just tomorrow, then I'd 
go back."

There was a momentary silence in which she found herself regretting 
making the request. _Still acting without thinking first, B'Elanna! Will 
you never learn?_

"Funny you should ask that now, Lieutenant," The Captain's voice 
interrupted her thoughts, "because I've been doing some thinking along 
those lines myself. Please, come in."

B'Elanna hesitated, then stepped in. She stayed standing as if expecting 
to get evicted within moments. Janeway did not notice, though, setting 
aside a cup of coffee she'd been drinking to turn and say, "Mr. Paris 
informed me you appeared a bit short of breath today in Engineering, and 
you do seem a bit breathless to me."

"Oh, no, Captain! That was because I ran to catch up to Tom," B'Elanna 
insisted. "And right now I just got it in my mind to ask you about 
tomorrow so I just hurried on over." _Great, go on, B'Elanna, now you 
sound like some erratic crank!_

Janeway merely arched her brow at this and said, "Well, regardless, I 
have been thinking about giving you some time off."

"You have?"

"Yes," The Captain admitted, then her expression sobered and B'Elanna 
felt her stomach sink, wondering what she'd said or done wrong. Janeway 
sighed and spoke carefully, "Since... since that unfortunate incident 
regarding the Sikarians, you have been working non-stop, double shifts, 
even coming in during your off hours sometimes for special projects and 
it's got to stop."

"It does, Captain?" B'Elanna felt her stomach sink even further. 
Thoughts began to circle in her head like hungry vultures, threatening 
to swoop down and pick at the fragile defenses she currently had. 

_So. Now how will I show you how much this posting you've given me 
means? How serious I am? How committed? I'll work my fingers raw for 
you, Captain, but if you don't let me then how can I ever hope to prove 
to you that I'm worthy? If not of this uniform, then at least of your 
trust? Of your confidence?_

"Yes, it does." Janeway's voice brooked no argument and she added, "I 
want a Chief Engineer, not an automaton."

"Yes, Captain." B'Elanna's voice was even, but her eyes revealed the 
trepidation she was feeling. "I'll do as you ask."

"I know you will, Lieutenant," Janeway smiled, transforming her face 
into a warm and gracious one which reminded the beleaguered B'Elanna for 
one painfully poignant moment of her long-gone Human father. Then she 
sobered and added, "You've been giving me nothing but your best since 
your arrival on board, despite the circumstances, and I need you to know 
it's not been unnoticed. On this last mission, you acted above and 
beyond the call of duty. You gave of yourself in order for the team to 
return. I find that exceedingly honorable."

B'Elanna shrugged, "That was my counterpart, Captain."

"That was you, B'Elanna. She's in you now. She always will be. Don't 
ever make the mistake of thinking you don't have that strength, because 
it's in you. I've seen it. And I'm very lucky to have you working for 
me. You must have been a formidable Maquis." Janeway smiled again, this 
time tempered with a touch of humor and B'Elanna shrugged.

"I suppose I was. But the Maquis never had anything so fine as the 
equipment on this ship," B'Elanna sighed, admitting, "Ships like this 
are the reason I entered Starfleet."

"And Captain's like me were the reason you left?" Janeway quipped, then 
waved her hand. "Never mind. Strike that. Just a bad joke."

"Yes, Captain. It's true," B'Elanna merely said, arresting the Captain's 
reaction with her solemnity. She locked her gaze on Janeway and said 
with soft sincerity, "Captain's like you made me realize I could never 
hope to earn the right to wear the uniform, to...to live in their world 
of rules, to ever aspire to follow or ever be half as good as any of 
them."

Janeway was frozen in her astonishment, but she managed to shake her 
head. "You should never allow anyone to strip away your feelings of self 
worth, B'Elanna."

"I know. And that's why I left Starfleet, Captain. It's taken me a long 
time to accept that it was as much self-preservation as bad judgement."

Kathryn Janeway's gaze remained on her Chief Engineer for a moment, then 
she said quietly, "Request granted, Lieutenant."

"Captain?"

"Your extra day. You can have it. Or more if you need them," Janeway 
clarified without expression.

"No, just the one, Captain. I..." B'Elanna hesitated, then confessed, 
"It's about Durst. I missed his memorial. I feel like I should...I don't 
know, observe the day somehow."

The Captain nodded sadly. "I understand. I barely knew him, but he was a 
good man, a good worker. A lot of the crew miss him." 

This said Janeway sighed, then shook her head regretfully, looking very 
like any other woman tired at the end of a long work day to the 
engineer. Yet this woman held the weight of the ship and all the lives 
contained therein on her shoulders. 

_How does she do it? And not blow her stack or get brusque, the way you 
are? I'd follow her anywhere now. Could I say the reverse would be true? 
And believe it?_

B'Elanna nodded. "Thank you, Captain. I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it." 

Janeway led her to the doorway and B'Elanna found herself in the 
hallway, musing over the days events and musing about the man who had 
loved her, despite the fact that she was not exactly regulation, not 
exactly congenial.

_But he loved me anyway, Klingon half and all, but then, he was half-
Betazoid himself._ She frowned at this thought. _He was a man, B'Elanna, 
that's all. His genetics wouldn't have mattered if you'd found out 
before. Why should yours?_

_It doesn't matter,_ she suddenly realized. She thought this over, then 
found herself believing it for the first time in her life.  _It really 
doesn't...all that matters is Peter loved you and now he's 
gone...forever._

B'Elanna Torres began to slowly walk back to her room, one line in his 
poem echoing in her mind. _From a whisper to a scream..._ This seemed to 
speak not just of Durst's passion, but of her reversion. From wholly 
Human back to her hated halfling state. Or was it? 

_I don't hate it, I guess I have her to thank for that,_ she sighed, 
recalling the conversation she'd had with her other wholly Klingon half 
on the Vidiian moon and amended, _I can thank *me*. She *was* me, she's 
in me now...and I am better for it, stronger and...whole._

_...from a whisper to a scream._

"I won't forget you, Durst...I swear it," she whispered now in the 
silent corridor of this Federation ship so far from it's resident's 
home. "Because if you truly loved me the way I was, then I can accept 
myself...just the way I am."

_And I guess I have._ B'Elanna shook her head ruefully then sighed, 
weary, but at peace with herself for the first time in a very long time.

        ~~ finis ~~

----------------------------------------------------------------------
May 1995.   Not meant to infringe on copyrights held by Viacom, 
Paramount or any other legal copyright holders of Star Trek. Please do 
not reproduce for anything other than personal reading use (including 
fanzines) without written consent of the author. Comments, questions, 
cyber-chocolates or polite coughs of distaste may be sent to:  
OdoGoddess@aol.com