Bump (Me, Again)

by Zinjev

Summary:

When Tom Paris and Naomi Wildman crash-land on an unknown planet with no immediate prospect of rescue from Voyager, Tom makes a series of fateful decisions as he tries to keep Naomi from losing hope. Despite good intentions, his attempts to balance her emotional needs against his better moral judgment sets the two of the down a path they were never meant to walk.

Read the tags before you continue! This is a VERY problematic fic that is a continuation of BrokenBlade's Bump (Me, Aye) and is NOT an endorsement of adult-child relationships. Everything that happens in this story is a road to hell paved by good intentions as well as an exploration of coming-of-age sexual awakening and human psychology under duress and extreme isolation. If you're not prepared for highly problematic themes and emotional rollercoasters, do *not* read this!

Notes:

• For BrokenBlade.
• Inspired by Bump (Me, Aye!) by BrokenBlade

Chapter 1: Impact

“Computer… begin transport!”

There was a beep of acknowledgement, followed by the azure shimmer of an active transporter field and then the howl of the engines and the sound of blaring alarms was cut short, replaced by birdsong and the gentle rustling of leaves in the wind. Acting purely on instinct, Ensign Tom Paris glanced down and to the right, finding the reassurance he was looking for: The sight of his young charge next to him, the feeling of her small hand in his. 

Tom breathed a deep sigh of relief and began to truly take in his surroundings. Trees, moss, rocks, insects… no signs of civilization he could see, neither now nor during the short time they had spent in orbit. How had they even ended up in this situation? He began to think back to what had seemed such a simple request then, only a few days earlier. 

“I want to go out in the Delta Flyer with Tom!” Naomi had stated, with all the innocent confidence that a young girl who knows she is the center of attention could muster. ”That’s what I want for my birthday.” Said birthday was fast approaching, and a festive mood had settled into the crew of the Starship Voyager. Being not just the only child born aboard the ship after it became stranded in the Delta Quadrant but the only child aboard Voyager *period*, Naomi occupied a unique place in their hearts, and they’d resolved to make this birthday a special one for her.

There’d been a few attempts to dissuade her, suggestions for alternatives, but Naomi had been absolutely determined and in the end, the promise had been made: A short trip in the Delta Flyer, to a nearby uninhabited star system and back, staying well within sensor range of Voyager at all times. Tom had even said he’d let her take the controls again (as he had a few weeks prior) once they were in-system. Naomi had been over the moon and for the rest of the evening, all she’d talked about was the upcoming trip with Tom.

“Face it Tom,” B’Elanna had said that evening as they were having dinner in his quarters, “the girl has a crush on you.” 

“Naomi? She’s way too young for crushes!” Tom had retorted. “She’s probably just excited at the prospect of getting to pilot the Flyer. She keeps saying she wants to join Starfleet when she grows up, after all.”

B’Elanna shot him a skeptical look as she picked up another forkful of replicated pancakes. “She’s what, ten in human years? Believe it or not, ten-year-old girls *do* have crushes, and this particular one has barely said two sentences without the name ‘Tom’ in at least one of them during the last few months.” 

Tom returned her look with his trademark grin, “Am I to take this as an admission that ten-year-old B’Elanna Torres had a crush on someone? Who is he? A dashing Starfleet teacher back on Earth? A proud Klingon warrior on Qo'noS? Tell me who this dastardly rival for your heart may be!”

His attempt to change the topic had been successful, and only landed him in a little bit of swiftly forgotten trouble, but in the aftermath of their conversation Tom had wondered if there wasn’t something to what B’Elanna had said after all. Ever since that time a few weeks ago when he and Seven of Nine had taken Naomi out in the Flyer (before that whole business with the fake wormhole), he kept turning around to find her somewhere nearby, watching him and seemingly hanging onto every word he said.

“And here I thought I was just good with kids” Tom had muttered to himself but then shrugged. Ultimately, whether or not Naomi had a crush on him didn’t really matter - at her age, he was sure she’d be over it and moving on to her next obsession soon enough, and in the meanwhile, he just had to make sure she got her wish for a memorable birthday.

Well, it’s going to be memorable alright, Tom thought to himself. He raised his gaze upwards, shielding his eyes against the warm glare of the two suns. In the atmosphere, he could just make out the blazing streak of the Delta Flyer, heading towards the surface of the planet at terminal velocity. What the hell *was* that? A spatial anomaly? A wormhole?  

Everything had been normal for the first hours of the trip. They’d left Voyager after breakfast, Naomi making a show of saluting him and requesting permission to come aboard the Delta Flyer as if she was already a Cadet in Starfleet. He’d laughed and granted the permission, and then they’d set off for the nearby system that Voyager’s computer had given the very computer-like name D-344126. The *single-star* system of D-344126, with its lack of interesting features and its *definite* lack of M-class planets, he thought sourly as he took in the lush landscape around him.

D-344126 this most definitely wasn’t, and frankly he had no idea where they had actually ended up. They’d dropped out of warp at the edge of the system, on half-impulse approach to the outermost planet in the system (a desolate ice ball designated D-344126-E) when he’d stepped out from the pilot’s seat and announced to Naomi that it was her turn to drive. He had just been intending to let her putt about the outer reaches of the system for a little while, at a comfortable distance from anything she could possibly ram into, but the moment she’d put her hands on the controls all hell had broken loose.

“Anomalous object detected directly to port.” The Flyer’s computer had suddenly announced, “Collision imminent.” As Naomi froze in panic, Tom had lunged for the controls to try and steer out of the way, but there had simply been no time to react. There had been a flash of blue light, a sound like a chorus of wailing voices, and then suddenly the viewport was filled with the bulk of an M-class planet, the Flyer on direct approach to its atmosphere. Whatever means of transport had brought them here, it had taken a bad toll on the Flyer - steering controls were gone, along with half the computer systems. Sparks were flying everywhere and the engines were howling like they’d taken a direct hit from a disruptor. The Flyer was going to crash, and it was going to do so at a speed that neither of them could survive.

By some miracle, the transporters were still functioning and Tom had ordered the computer to transport them down to the planet. “Sp-c-fy d-s-in---on.” the computer had said in a warbling, broken electronic voice and Tom had yelled, “Anywhere that isn’t here!”

And so, accordingly, here they were. In a forest clearing on an unknown planet in an unknown system, taken here by unknown means. It’s like the damn Caretaker array all over again, Tom thought, the idea sending a momentary stab of panic through him. What if it actually *had* been something like that? What if they had been transported to the other side of the Delta quadrant, or to another quadrant entirely? What if…

His thoughts were interrupted by a sniffle and then the sound of Naomi’s voice. “I’m sorry Tom, I’m sorry, it’s all my fault. I don’t know what I did, I just… I just touched the console and…” she was squeezing his hand hard, clearly on the verge of tears. He leaned down and scooped her up into his arms, all thoughts of his own worries forgotten. “Shh, Naomi. It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, and everything is going to be okay.”

“B-but-” Naomi said, clinging to Tom with tears in her eyes. “I was at the controls, and then we hit something. I must have hit the wrong button or something. If you’d been piloting-”

“- then we’d still have hit the same thing” Tom finished her sentence. “I don’t know exactly what we hit, Naomi, but whatever it was, there was simply no way we could have avoided the collision. I promise you, it’s not your fault.” he continued, wiping the tears from her eyes. Despite his reassuring words, Naomi didn’t look entirely convinced, and seemed about to say something when they were interrupted by a distant boom. Shifting Naomi to hold her aloft with a single arm, Tom took out his tricorder and pointed it in the direction the sound had come from.

“Seems like the Flyer came down not too far from here, on the other side of these woods.” Tom said to Naomi, forcing a reassuring smile to his face. “You know how tough that ship is - if we’re lucky, it might even be intact enough that we can repair it and get out of here. If not, I’m sure we’ll at least be able to send a signal to Voyager to come rescue us.”

This statement seemed to bring a little bit of hope back to Naomi’s voice. “You really think so? You’re not just saying that, right?”

“Trust me, Naomi.” Tom replied, keeping the cheeriness in his voice. “I’ve been in far worse situations than this, after all. A walk through the woods, maybe a night roughing it under the stars, and then we’ll be back on Voyager. Think of it as an adventure!”

Naomi’s spirits seemed further lifted by this, and soon they’d set out in the direction of the crash. As they passed through the dense undergrowth, the sound of birds and other animals all around them, Tom continued to scan the surroundings with his tricorder to try and get more information about their location. It wasn’t much: M-class planet, near-ideal nitrogen/oxygen mix for human habitation, DNA-based flora, name unknown, position unknown, inhabitants unknown. It looks remarkably like Earth, he thought to himself as he glanced at the trees and plants around him. A perfect M-class just hanging around the Delta Quadrant without anyone laying claim to it? Somehow I’m more than a little skeptical. That was, of course, assuming they were even still in the Delta Quadrant. He hoped he’d be able to tell more once the stars came up, assuming the skies would remain clear of clouds.  

He felt a small tug on his hand, and turned to find Naomi looking up at him, her expression tired. They’d been walking for almost an hour in difficult terrain, and the trek was clearly taking a toll on the girl. “Tired?” Tom asked and she nodded. “That’s okay, I’ll carry you the rest of the way. Just hop up on my back.” he said, leaning down forward to let her get up.

To his surprise she shook her head, biting her lip for a moment and then asking, “Can you carry me like you did the last time we were out in the Flyer? When you were taking me back to our quarters?”

Tom blinked in surprise, recalling the occasion. He was surprised she even remembered, he thought she’d been deep asleep at the time. Well, it would be a little more inconvenient than having her on his back, but it wasn’t too much further to the crash site now, and if it made her feel better for some reason… he put his tricorder away and put his arms around Naomi, lifting her up on his side, one hand held under her, the other around her back. She immediately put her own arms around his neck, wrapped her legs around his hip and placed her head on his shoulder, clinging tightly to him. “Better like that?” he asked her and was answered with a pleased “Mm-hmm.” before she closed her eyes and fell silent.

Naomi thus safely ensconced in his arms, Tom pressed on towards the crash site at a good pace, surprised once more by just how light she was. Well, what were you expecting, he thought to himself, she’s a little girl, not a Cardassian soldier . Naomi remained silent throughout the walk, aside from the occasional little sigh that Tom interpreted as tiredness on her part. After about half an hour, the tricorder made a noise to indicate that the Delta Flyer was nearby, just as Tom emerged from the tree line and saw the crash site. 

The sight of it made his face fall.

Chapter 2: Descent

The Delta Flyer had come down hard on a stretch of grassy meadows, breaking up during atmospheric re-entry into two pieces that had somehow, incredibly, both landed not far from each other and remained relatively intact. The grass around the crash site was blackened and smoldering, and smaller bits of the ship’s interior were scattered all about, but the cargo hold looked like it had made it through without major damage.

The same, unfortunately, could not be said for the ship’s computer core, which had been torn open as the ship came apart, in a state well beyond any form of field repairs. Fixing the ship was obviously not an option and now it seemed like getting a message through to Voyager might not be possible either. He could only hope that the emergency beacon that they always kept stored on the ship was in a better shape.

As he came to a stop to take it all in, Naomi perked her head up and looked first at Tom, then saw his expression and followed his gaze to the crash site. “Oh.” she said, her voice small. “That’s not good, is it?” Tears seemed to be forming in her eyes again, and Tom cursed himself for letting his own worry show. Putting on a smile, he patted her on the head as he answered. “Could be a lot worse. We won’t be flying away from here on our own power, but by now I’m sure Voyager is looking for us, and...” he pointed at the wreck. “See there? That’s the cargo hold and it looks intact. We’ll be able to get food, tents and equipment to stay the night. I’m sure we’ll have been found by morning.”  

This time, his reassurances weren’t quite so effective, and he had to spend another minute or two convincing Naomi that it really wasn’t her fault that they were there, that Voyager really was looking for them, and that a night camping in the woods with survival rations was still just an unplanned adventure.

“Why can’t we sleep inside the ship?” Naomi had asked as he resumed his trek towards the crash site. “Isn’t the living area intact?” In truth, that had been Tom’s first idea, before he was struck by the thought that if someone already inhabited this planet, they may very well have seen the crash and could be coming to investigate right now. That thought, however, he didn’t want to share with Naomi and so he shook his head and made up a story. “The wreck might interfere with the emergency beacon.” he lied. “We want to make it as easy as possible for Voyager to find us and transport us up once they arrive.”

Naomi seemingly bought his lie and jumped out of his arms, walking the last stretch to the wreck under her own power. As the skies started to darken, Tom began to go through the wreck and inventory their supplies, nervously scanning the surroundings with his tricorder every few minutes for any signs of inquisitive locals. He kept Naomi busy by giving her small tasks to carry out (such as counting the survival rations), which seemed to help lift her mood a little. The result was the first bit of real good news he’d had since the collision: Just about all of the Flyer’s cargo had survived the crash intact, and they had enough food and water for weeks, more if they stretched it through rationing.

Gathering up sleeping bags, a survival tent, all the food and water, the emergency beacon as well as all the ship’s portable technology (such as phasers, combadges, PADDs, tricorders and spare power cells) made for quite the heavy pack, even with Naomi carrying a little bit of it in a small kit bag slung over her shoulder. Honestly, I should just say to hell with the Prime Directive and leave some of this tech here for whoever to find, Tom thought to himself, but instead he just hoisted the pack over his shoulders with a grunt and told Naomi it was time to get moving.

By now, the twin suns had disappeared behind the horizon and the stars were coming out, and Tom took a moment when he thought Naomi wasn’t looking to scan the skies, looking for any familiar constellations. 'Local star cluster unknown', the tricorder displayed, and Paris tried to prompt it, 'Are we at least in the Delta Quadrant?' only to receive 'Insufficient data to make a determination' back. 

Well, that’s not good, Tom thought to himself, putting the tricorder away. The tricorder had been fed all the latest data from Stellar Cartography, and if they were anywhere within ten or so light-years of Voyager, it should have been able to make a rough estimation of their position. In other words, unless Voyager could follow them through whatever means of transportation had brought them here, they couldn’t expect any rescue for at least a week, probably longer… Possibly never , he thought to himself, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Then he caught sight of Naomi watching him, a worried frown on her face, and resolved once again to put his fears aside for her sake. The situation was bad enough without scaring her half to death with the notion that they might be stranded here permanently.

Leaving the wreck behind, they made their way back into the woods and Tom pitched the tent by a rocky hill, not far from a fast little stream. The hill and surrounding trees would shield them from potentially hostile eyes, and the noise of the stream (as well as the apparently rather talkative night animals) would prevent their voices from carrying too far. While he was doing so, Naomi heated a pair of ration packs on the portable heater that had been in the ship’s emergency kit, and then ate mostly in silence as Tom continued to try and play up the adventure they were having. 

After finishing her food, Naomi let out a big yawn and Tom unfurled the sleeping bags, laying them down next to each other in the bed. Turning back to Naomi, he found the girl in the process of falling asleep and lifted her up, bundling her into her bedding. The night air still held some of the day’s heat, and he felt hot and sweaty after carrying the heavy pack from the Flyer, so once he was sure Naomi was asleep he stripped down to his underwear and crept into his sleeping bag, falling asleep almost immediately.

Tom woke up with a start. Someone was in the tent with them! An intruder? He sat up quickly and reached for his phaser, only to find Naomi sitting on the ground next to him, her small hand on his leg. Her eyes and face were red - she looked like she had been crying.

“I’m scared, Tom.” she said, the statement interrupted by a sniffle. “I had a nightmare that you were gone, and I was all alone in these woods forever. I don’t want to sleep alone in my sleeping bag… can I please sleep in yours with you?” Naomi sniffled again, voice wavering.

His first thought was of his own unclothed state. “Of course you can, Naomi, but it’s a bit warm in here, so I’m in my underwear.” He’d meant to get up and get his uniform, but instead Naomi misunderstood what he’d meant entirely. “That’s okay,” she said and proceeded to quickly take off her dress, stripping down to her own underwear. Before Tom could protest, she’d wriggled into his sleeping bag and was lying there next to him, his naked skin against hers. 

Of course she wouldn’t see anything wrong in this, Tom thought to himself, she’s a child. She’s scared and wants comfort, that’s all there is to it. Even so, his cheeks were flushing hot with the awkwardness of the situation. As he laid back down and tried to relax, Naomi pushed her back up against his chest until they were practically spooning. He felt her small body move against his with every breath and did his best to relax. The important thing is not how you feel about the situation Tom, it’s what *she’s* feeling, he told himself. She must be terrified, and as the adult here it’s up to you to do whatever it takes to make her feel better.

“Tom?” Naomi suddenly asked in a small voice.

“Yes, Naomi?” Tom replied, feeling his eyelids getting heavy as he started to relax despite himself.

“It’s not true that Voyager is going to come and get us tomorrow, is it?” Naomi asked in those same, muted tones. “I saw what you were asking the tricorder, that it doesn’t know where we are and… if *we* don’t know where we are, how can Voyager know?”

Tom cursed himself internally for his incaution. Of course he knew that his little lie couldn’t go on forever, but he’d been hoping to keep her in the dark about how bad their situation was at least for a few days, until he could properly take stock of their surroundings. There didn’t seem to be much use continuing it now, though.

“I… don’t know, Naomi. It’s possible that they still come to get us soon if they can figure out how we got here, but I can’t tell you for sure that’s going to happen tomorrow. It might take a while before they can rescue us.”

She was silent for a moment. “Could a while mean ‘forever’?”

Tom shook his head and answered resolutely, “No, not forever. Definitely not forever. I promise it's not that.”

Naomi turned her head to look at him, biting her lip and asking nervously. “Do you really mean it this time? You’re not just telling me that so that I won’t be scared?”

Tom raised his hand to her head, stroking her hair gently and answering, truthfully and sincerely. “I really mean it this time. Tom Paris won’t spend the rest of his life on this planet, and neither will Naomi Wildman. Either Voyager will find and rescue us, or I will figure out some way to get us off the planet and find *them*.”

A bit calmer now, Naomi simply asked “Promise?” and held out her little finger.

“Promise.” Tom replied, hooking her little finger in his. “Now you should really go to sleep, Naomi Wildman.” he added with a smile.

“Okay, but...” Naomi said, something clearly on her mind. “Before I do, could you please rub against me with your fingers?” Her wide and innocent eyes were looking directly into Tom’s as she asked the question.

WHAT did she just ask? Tom thought, now well and truly awake, staring at the young girl curled up against him in the sleeping bag. She can’t have meant… “What do you mean, Naomi? Do you want me to scratch your back or something?” he asked, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible.

Naomi shook her head resolutely. “No, not my back. I mean between my legs,” she explained patiently, demonstratively taking his hand and placing it on her thigh. “Like the times when you were carrying me before. It felt really good, but I found that it feels even better if you do it with your fingers.” her innocent tone and expression were completely, bizarrely at odds with what she was asking him to do.

Tom was mortified. She must be talking about when he had been carrying her. Sure, he’d been holding her closely against him, and her body might even have rubbed against his hip in the process, but… “Naomi, do you know what it is you’re asking me to do? It’s wrong!” he said with a tone much harsher than he’d ever used with her before, pulling his hand away from her forcefully. 

For a moment Naomi seemed stunned by the rebuke, then the floodgates opened and she started to cry with great hulking sobs. “I’m so scared and I- I just wanted to feel good like… like you did earlier and… I’m sorry… it’s my fault we’re here, I know you hate me for crashing the ship…" the stream of words coming out of her grew more and more incoherent.

Tom tried to reassure her, tried to explain, but there was no helping it. Apparently she’d secretly feared he was angry at her and blamed her for the crash, and his heated reaction to her request had seemingly confirmed all her worst fears. She tried to get out of the sleeping bag, and afraid that she might flee the tent and run off into the woods, Tom held her in place and refused to let go. This just made it all the worse as she started to struggle to get free, yelling for him to let go and no longer even listening to what he was saying. Tom could simply see no way out of this situation except… except the one thing he had been sure he was absolutely not going to do. 

I’m going to go to hell for this, Tom Paris thought as he moved his hand down between Naomi’s legs, gently pressing his fingers against her through the thin fabric of her panties. Immediately Naomi became still, ceasing her struggles and looking at Tom with wide, tear-filled eyes. “You… don’t hate me?” she asked with a small voice. As he began to gently massage her with his fingers, Tom replied softly. “I don’t hate you, Naomi. I know that you don’t understand why this is wrong, and right now I will do it for you, but this is the only time that this can happen. I- I'll explain later.”  

The bright smile on her face almost broke Tom’s heart. I’m molesting a little girl, and she couldn’t be happier. This is so messed up, he thought to himself, but even so he continued to rub her with the tips of his fingers, eliciting a series of small moans from Naomi as she arched her back in pleasure. Then, suddenly, she let out a soft sigh of contentment and collapsed back against Tom. “Thank you, Tom. I feel better now.” she said with a blurry voice and closed her eyes, falling asleep almost immediately.

Tom removed his fingers from between Naomi’s legs, feeling her sticky wetness on them, thoroughly disgusted with himself. What would B’Elanna say? He asked himself, What would Naomi’s *mother* say, or Captain Janeway for that matter? They’d throw me in the brig, or put me out the airlock, or cut my balls off and leave me on this planet to rot. They weren’t here though! He added to himself, feeling a deep unfairness about the whole situation. I didn’t do it because I *wanted* to! What was I supposed to do, let her run out into the woods alone? Keep holding her down as she got more and more scared and hysterical? Maybe there was a better way I could have handled the situation, but at the time I just couldn’t think of anything.  

He felt like he was making excuses to himself, rationalizing what shouldn’t be rationalized. He looked at his fingers, sticky and wet. Sticky and wet from Naomi. Tom began to frantically wipe his fingers on the sleeping bag, but somehow it seemed like it just wouldn’t come off. I just wanted her to feel safe. I just wanted to protect her. How the hell did it end up like this?  Tom lamented to himself. Then, another treacherous, rationalizing thought: It’s not like I hurt her. She seemed so happy. Was it really that wrong if it just made her happy?

What the fuck is wrong with you, Tom Paris he mentally replied to his own thoughts. It’s Naomi... *Naomi!*. Of course it was WRONG, in every possible sense of the word. In the morning, you’re going to have a talk with Naomi. You’re going to explain what happened, why it was wrong, and why it can never happen again. Then, once we’re back on Voyager, well, you’ll just have to face the music and hope they don’t space you right away. Tom Paris the child molester. That’ll be you from now on. Hope you weren’t planning on staying together with B’Elanna either, because she is never going to forgive you.

His thoughts continued to veer between self-loathing, attempts at rationalization and then back to self-loathing again, until finally he fell asleep from pure exhaustion.

Tom Paris did not have pleasant dreams that night.

Chapter 3: Aftershock

“B’Elanna! NO!”

Tom Paris woke up with a start, sitting up straight in his sleeping bag, his body covered in cold sweat. In his dreams, he’d been back on Voyager, but instead of friends and colleagues there was nothing but hard faces and accusing voices. “How could he do such a thing to a *little girl*?” “No wonder he lost his commission...” “I always knew he was bad at heart.” “He should have been left to rot in prison.” 

Then Captain Janeway had appeared and pronounced on him the sentence for his unforgivable crime: Expulsion from the ship, to be carried out immediately through the nearest airlock. He’d pleaded desperately for his life, but to no avail, and as the bulkhead closed behind him, he could see the face of the person that was about to depressurize the airlock and end his life. His executioner was B’Elanna.

He lifted his hand to his face, wiping the sweat from his brow as everything came rushing back to him. He was alone in his sleeping bag, and for one desperately hopeful moment he wondered if what had happened with Naomi had also been a dream, but then a scent from his own hand reached his nostrils. The scent of Naomi, clinging to him, irrefutable proof of his actions.

His unforgivable crime.

He was prevented from lapsing back into another cycle of self-loathing by the tent flap being pushed aside and Naomi entering, silhouetted by the faint golden aura of morning sunlight at her back. She saw that Tom was awake and gave him a large, innocent smile, “Good morning Tom!” she said, quickly making her way over to him. “I woke up and you were making strange noises in your sleep, so I got dressed and went outside. Did you have bad dreams?” she asked.

The way she’s acting, you’d think nothing at all untoward happened yesterday, Tom thought to himself, another pang of disgust for himself materializing in his stomach. Then again, why *should* she feel bad? She didn’t do anything wrong, she didn’t know any better. You’re the only one at fault here Tom, and don’t you forget that.

“Good morning, Naomi.” he finally said with as normal a voice as he could manage. “Yes, I was having a nightmare. You didn’t go far from the camp, did you? I told you that I didn’t want you to wander.” Oh, *now* you’re going to play the responsible adult? Don’t you think it’s a little late for that, Tom?  He thought to himself even as he spoke. 

“Nuh-uh,” Naomi said, shaking her head, “No further than the hill or the stream, just like you said.” she added, clearly proud of remembering and carrying out his instructions. She walked over and prodded his bare shoulder. “I’m hungry. Can we eat breakfast now?”

It took every ounce of mental effort Tom could muster not to jerk away from her. Don’t make her feel rejected again, you idiot! He scolded himself. Remember what’s important. You can’t keep Naomi safe if you’re too busy drowning yourself in self-pity. Focus, Tom! Focus!  “Of course we can.” he replied, trying to make his tone cheerful, “Just let me get dressed…” there was a long moment of silence, “... and wash my hands.”

A few minutes later, they were sitting on two of the portable little chairs that came with the tent (and could be similarly folded into seemingly physics-defying proportions when not in use), eating from a pair of ration packs that could charitably be said to have a taste distantly reminiscent of the mashed potatoes with sauce they professed to mimic. Naomi stuck her tongue out in a theatrical way after taking her first bite. “Bleh. Are ration packs always this bad?”

She must have been too hungry to notice the lack of taste yesterday, Tom thought. “Oh no, not at all.” he replied, having by now regained some of his mental footing, “Some of them are much worse than this. This is practically a luxury breakfast compared to the ones we ate during field training at the Academy. That stuff tastes more like something coming out of a Ferengi’s ears.” 

Naomi giggled at this and Tom felt that the moment was right. “Naomi?” he said as the girl scooped up another spoonful of ‘mashed potatoes’. “Mm-hmm?” she replied, mouth full of food. “We need to talk about what happened yesterday.” She stopped eating, looking up at him with the kind of worried reaction that a 'We need to talk' usually elicits, unsure if she was just about to receive a scolding.

Great start, Tom. Just great, he thought to himself, quickly reassuring her: “Don’t worry, you haven’t done anything wrong. Actually, I’m the one who did something that was wrong, really really wrong. When I… last night... ” he trailed off, finding himself unable to actually put it in words.

Naomi’s expression changed from worry to puzzlement before her features lit up with supposed understanding. “Oh!” she said, “You mean when you yelled at me? Don’t worry, Tom.” she said cheerfully. “I was scared then, but now I’m not. I already forgave you!” Confident that she had thus resolved the matter, she returned to her food.

She’s misunderstood completely! For fuck's sake Tom, man up and say it! Say what you did to her!  He took a deep breath, “No Naomi, that’s not what I meant. I meant what happened after that, when I… when I touched you. When I rubbed you with my fingers.” Saying it out loud made his stomach churn, and for a moment he thought he was going to throw up. “That is what was wrong, I mean... what *I did* that was wrong.” he corrected himself.

The worried expression was back on Naomi’s features. “But… *I* asked you to do that.” she said with uncertainty, “How could you have done wrong if I was the one who asked for it? Should I not have asked? Did- did you not want to? Did- did I make you do something you didn’t… want to do?” her voice quivered a bit, and he could see that tears were not far away.

Tom felt like he was traveling down a narrow path between two minefields. If he moved too far to one side, Naomi would blame herself for what had happened and feel like he was rejecting her, while if he instead went too far to the other side, she would continue to not see anything wrong in what had happened, and might expect it to happen again. He realized that he was going to have to actually explain it to her properly.

“No, not at all!” Tom said, shaking his head ferociously. “You’re misunderstanding me, Naomi. I said you did nothing wrong and I *mean* it, but what we did is something that is called *sex*, and that’s something that is only supposed to be done between adults that love each other. Adults, like me, should never do it with children, like you, because while sex is enjoyable for adults who want to have it with each other, an adult that has sex with a child is doing it only because *they're* the one who wants it, not because the child wants it, and that makes it wrong. Do you understand?”

If anything, this seemed to only further upset Naomi, and tears were now forming in her eyes. “No, I don’t understand!” She continued, “You say it’s wrong because only the adult wants it, but *I* was the one who wanted it.” She cast her gaze down onto the ground, eyes full of hurt and guilt, “I- I think you’re just saying that it’s not my fault because… because.... you don’t want me to be upset, but I’m the one who did wrong, because I made you do something you’re only supposed to do with someone you love and... and you don’t love me.” 

Feeling the mines detonating under him one by one, Tom cast desperately in his mind for an argument that would work on her. It’s too abstract for her, Tom! She’s a child, give her something she can actually accept!  “I’m the one who did wrong, because I made a promise with B’Elanna!” he blurted out. This, finally, made her look back up at him. 

“You know that B’Elanna is my girlfriend, and I’m her boyfriend?” Tom continued and Naomi nodded, “Well when you’re someone’s girlfriend or boyfriend, that means you love them, but it also means you’ve made a promise that you will only ever have sex with them.” She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off. “So the one who did something wrong last night was *me*, because *you* didn’t know that I had made a promise.” 

“Oh.” Naomi said, biting her lip thoughtfully. “Is B’Elanna going to be mad? She’s scary when she’s mad.”

“Yes, B’Elanna is going to be mad at me, but she’s not going to be mad at you, Naomi. Just me.” Tom replied, You have no idea how true that statement is, though not for the reason I just told you. “But let’s not worry about that right now, right now we need to worry about getting rescued. Okay?”

“Okay.” Naomi said, looking down at the ground again, then back up at Tom. “Tom?” she said in a small voice, “Do you love me too? Or just B’Elanna?” her voice was trembling a bit, and she seemed ready to be hurt again.

Oh, Naomi! Tom thought, B’Elanna was right about your crush, but a little girl’s crush is supposed to be something innocent… not *this*. “I do love you, but…” he was about to say ‘not like that’ but the sudden and very hurt look in her eyes caused him to change the ending of the sentence, “... I have to keep my promise with B’Elanna from now on, okay?”

“Okay.” Naomi replied, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry I made you break your promise. I promise I won’t do it again.” Mollified at last, she returned her attention to her meal. Tom was about to open his mouth to try once more to explain that she hadn’t made him do anything, but decided against it, afraid that anything he said would just make the situation worse again.

You’re a coward, Tom Paris, Tom thought to himself. Instead of explaining the truth to her, you’ve made her think that the only reason you won’t molest her again is because you’d be cheating on B’Elanna. You promised yourself that you’d make her understand, instead you’ve just taken the convenient path as usual. Like you always do.

Well, it worked didn’t it?  The rationalizing part of Tom responded in his head. What does it matter which reason she believes right now? Do you really think that making her feel sad, hurt and rejected is going to help in the situation we’re in right now? There will be all the time in the world for explanations once we get back to Voyager, the important thing is that what happened yesterday never happens again.

The first of the twin suns continued to rise on the horizon of an unknown planet as Tom Paris and Naomi Wildman ate their breakfast in silence, preparing for the day that was to come.

The trials that were to come.

Chapter 4: Respite

“Food and drinkable water. What else do you think we’ll need?” Tom asked Naomi as he typed onto one of the PADDs that he’d hauled from the crashed Flyer. After breakfast, he’d resolved to put what had happened yesterday out of his mind and focus on their more immediate problem: Surviving on this planet until rescue arrived. To this end, he’d decided to make a to-do list of the challenges they would need to solve and engaged Naomi in the project of writing it, asking her to think about everyday things they used on Voyager that they didn’t have here. He’d been impressed by her immediate grasp of the fact that their food supplies from the Flyer would eventually run out. Unless, of course, it was simply that she was eager to find something (anything) more palatable than survival rations.

“Um, laundry? We can do that with hot water, right?” Naomi suggested, glancing down at her dress, which wasn’t quite so clean after a day out in the wilderness as it had been when they left Voyager. Federation clothing tended to be incredibly durable and didn’t tear easily, but stains and sweat was another matter entirely. Laundry aboard Voyager was handled in a central, computer-controlled manner through sonic pulse technology where crewmembers would simply deposit dirty clothing through the laundry chute and they’d be returned clean only minutes later. However, Neelix always insisted on hand-washing his clothes (claiming that the sonic launderer could irreversibly damage the fabric) so Naomi had become familiar with this older style of doing laundry by watching him. 

“Right you are. Good thinking, Naomi!” Tom praised her, causing Naomi to smile brightly. “We already have the heater to warm up water, so then we just need a container large enough to do laundry in,” he continued, adding another item to the list and choosing, very deliberately, not to reflect over what they would be wearing while their only change of clothes was being washed. “We can just bathe in the stream, but we’ll need a way to dry ourselves and our clothes in case the weather isn’t always like this.” 

Ever since they had arrived on the planet, the weather had been pleasant to the point that you could call it idyllic. It was warm but not *too* warm, the wind never got stronger than a pleasant breeze, and the skies were perpetually blue aside from the occasional fluffy cloud making a lonesome trek from one end of the horizon to the other. However, given that he didn’t know the first thing about this planet’s seasons or weather systems, Tom didn’t want to count on these happy circumstances continuing indefinitely. He typed in ‘Drying?’ just below ‘Make a Water Basin’ on the list.

Naomi scrunched her face with intense concentration as she tried to think of more things for the list. “Deuterium?” she finally managed. “Seven is always talking about how we’re running out of it on Voyager…” Seeing Tom’s bemused look, Naomi stuck her jaw out determinedly. “I know *we* don’t need it, but if we could find some, wouldn’t it help Voyager when they arrive to pick us up?” she added, daring him to challenge her logic. Tom blinked, impressed once again with her thinking, and so ‘Find Deuterium’ also made the list, even though Tom knew the chances of locating a deposit aided by just a tricorder was a billion to one.

In the end, it took them around half an hour to make the first version of the list, reading as follows:

• Find food
• Find drinking water
• Make a Water Basin
• Drying?
• Find Deuterium
• Set up the emergency beacon
• Find better shelter (in case of a storm)
• Organize the supplies

The last point on the list Tom had added as something for Naomi to keep herself busy with while he went about a to-do task he had deliberately left out from the list: Check on the Flyer. He figured that if the planet was inhabited, and anyone here had the technological ability to detect a shuttle crash, they’d have found it by now. If there were natives, perhaps they’d be friendly, perhaps they’d be hostile, but he intended to find out on his own with Naomi safely back at camp. 

However, he also didn’t want to leave her alone back at camp before he got more of a sense of how dangerous the surroundings could be. So far, the few animals they’d seen had all looked harmless: Various insects, brightly colored birds that zipped between the treetops, green-scaled lizards that fled into the undergrowth as they approached, and once they'd spotted some sort of mammal that looked like a bizarre cross between a lemur and a very small horse. As with the weather though, Tom Paris wasn’t going to take any chances where their safety was concerned. 

They emptied two kit bags (a regular-sized one for Tom and a smaller one for Naomi) and set about solving the first two points on the list. Their first stop was the nearby stream, which Tom thoroughly scanned and found to be perfectly drinkable, free of contamination and dangerous microorganisms. He’d handed the PADD with the list to Naomi, who promptly checked off ‘Find drinking water’ with apparent satisfaction. “That was easy!” she said and Tom could only agree.

“I saw some trees that looked like fruit trees when we were walking yesterday.” Tom said, pointing in a general direction to the south-east (at least, if south-east could be said to map in the same way to the path of the suns on this planet as it did back on Earth). “Let’s head back in that direction and see if we can find them again.” 

Said direction took them directly across the stream, which Tom cleared with a large step and Naomi with a nimble skip. She seems in high spirits, Tom thought, I guess this really is an adventure to her. At least for now. Walking through the undergrowth, Tom was properly struck for the first time by just how untouched this forest seemed. The trees grew tall with the sort of confident reach for the sky that you could only find in true old-growth forests. The ground was covered in old branches, moss and leaves, and everywhere he looked was teeming with life. Beetles scuttled to and fro on beetle-errands, while strange black dragonfly-like creatures with bodies bristling with spiny hairs zipped about in the air. Once, a large red insect landed on Tom’s hand, and for a moment he thought it might bite him, but instead it just flew off again, curiosity apparently satisfied.

No biting insects, no dangerous predators, perfect weather. What is this, some kind of paradise planet? Did we crash on the Delta Quadrant’s version of Risa? He reminded himself that so far they’d only seen a few kilometers of a single forest. Planets were large places, and this one might hold plenty of dangers yet unseen to them. The thought made him instinctively stop to check the phaser at his belt, its presence there reassuring him. He looked to see if Naomi had noticed anything, but she was busy peering into the inside of a massive, hollowed-out tree. “Can we use this as shelter if there’s a storm?” she asked but Tom shook his head. “Trees can get struck by lightning, so we want something a bit sturdier, like a cave.” Seeing her slightly crestfallen look, he quickly added, “Good thinking though, getting ahead on the list. Keep doing that.” which seemed to perk her up again.

It’s not easy to keep a kid happy. Parents have it tough, having to deal with these sorts of things every day, Tom thought to himself. You think *you* have it tough with kids? Just imagine all the ones who manage to do it without molesting any of them in the process, came the internal reply in a mental voice steeped in bitter sarcasm. He forcefully pushed those thoughts away, reminding himself that wallowing in self-recrimination wasn’t one of the items on the list, and to stay focused on their objective.

“Tom, look!” Naomi cried out suddenly, hopping up on a rock and pointing directly ahead. Gazing in the direction she was indicating, Tom saw that the tall trunks suddenly gave way to a grove of shorter trees whose branches were full of purple-hued, oval-shaped fruits about the size of an apple, the very fruits he’d spotted at a distance when traveling to the crash site yesterday. Before he could say anything, she jumped down from the rock and ran ahead. “Naomi, wait!” he shouted but she either didn’t hear or deliberately ignored him, quickly reaching the closest of the fruit trees and picking a fruit from a low-hanging branch. Tom ran after her, shouting as he did. “Don’t eat that! I need to make sure it’s safe first!”

To his relief, instead of biting into the fruit she simply wheeled around as he caught up to her and presented it to him with a sweet smile. “I wasn’t gonna.” Naomi said, “It looks yummy though, don’t you think?” To that, Tom could only agree. The fruit looked like nothing as much as a cross between a juicy plum and a ripe melon. Still, he wasn’t going to eat anything on an alien planet without some precaution. Taking the fruit from Naomi and holding it in one hand, he took out the tricorder and scanned it. “Tricorder says it’s edible for humans," he said, a note of faint surprise in his voice. “Still, we shouldn’t try it until we’re back at camp - and I eat first.” Tom continued in a voice that brooked no arguments.

Naomi nodded, then grinned widely as she thought of something. “Okay, Tom, but *I* get to name it.” Tom gave her a puzzled look. “If you find something new on an adventure, you get to name it! Like in the stories about explorers from long ago!” Now Tom got it, and he nodded his assent. “Very well then, Explorer Naomi Wildman. What shall be the name of this new fruit?” She bit her lip thoughtfully for a minute, then replied, “Pelon!” She paused for a moment and looked at the fruit again. “You know, because it kind of looks like a plum, and a melon?” 

Somehow, this slightly silly naming improved his mood, causing Tom to laugh in spite of himself. “I like it,” he said, “Let’s get to work then, we should fill our packs with as many pelons as we can carry and then get back to camp.”

A little bit later, the two of them had found their way back to the campsite, setting down their overstuffed packs next to the tent. Taking a slightly different route back, they had run into several more pelon-groves. If these really are as edible as the tricorder seems to think, we can cross food off the list as an immediate concern, Tom thought. “Alright Naomi, I’m going to try one.” Tom said as he reached into his pack and picked out one of the fruits. “If I fall over and clutch my stomach, don’t try to follow my example," he continued in a tone that indicated he was (mostly) joking, eliciting a giggle from Naomi.

Well, here goes nothing, he thought and bit into the pelon. The shell of the fruit was harder than a plum but not so hard as a melon, more like an apple. The taste was slightly bitter at first, then wonderfully sweet, and Tom took another bite, and then another. They were absolutely delicious! Before he knew it, he’d devoured half the fruit. He felt Naomi prodding him and looked down to see her with a slightly annoyed expression on her face. “I can tell that they’re good. I want one too!” 

To this though, Tom shook his head. “Not yet. They’re tasty, yes, but we still don’t know how they affect us.” Maybe I should have thought of that before I ate half the thing, he silently reprimanded himself. “We’ll wait here for… half an hour,” he decided as an arbitrary time frame, putting the rest of the fruit away. “If nothing’s happened to me by then, you can have the other half.” 

Naomi had pouted, “That’s not fair. It’s *my* fruit!” she had argued, but Tom had stood his ground and they’d waited the thirty minutes, with Naomi openly sulking for only the first ten of those. After the set time had passed, Tom felt no ill effects at all: No nausea, no stomach ache, nothing. Just the faint aftertaste of fruit juices in his mouth. He’d declared the pelons safe to eat, and Naomi had paused just long enough to check off ‘Find Food’ on the list before biting into the remaining half of the fruit, devouring it in no time at all. 

“Yum!” she decreed afterwards with a big smile, the sides of her mouth stained in purple fruit-juices. “My fruit is much better than ration packs!” Tom nodded his agreement, hoping that he had been cautious enough, but honestly the tricorder readings alone had already convinced him. These fruits were just as suitable for the human digestive system as anything that had been cultivated on Earth. If this seemed odd, something that was even odder was the way they’d found then, in neat groves that looked very much at odds with the forest around them, as though someone had deliberately planted them there. Once again, something struck him as a little off about it all.

Never mind that for now, Tom thought to himself reproachfully. We won’t starve and we won’t go thirsty.... that’s what matters. If you think someone might have planted those trees, all the more reason to check on the Flyer sooner rather than later. That someone might have found it by now, and who knows, they might be friendly? Maybe they can even help you get off this world and back to Voyager?

Such thoughts were reassuring, but somehow, he didn’t believe them.

Not one bit.

Chapter 5: Promises

“Shouldn’t we set up the emergency beacon now?” Naomi asked Tom, breaking him out of his ruminations. “So Voyager can find us?” Tom nodded while searching his mind for an excuse to put it off. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to get the beacon going - he did - but he had deliberately waited with doing so until he’d had a chance to check on the Flyer. Given that the beacon emitted a general, non-directional distress call, if the crash of the Flyer had attracted the attention of anyone native to the planet, activating the beacon would be akin to running up to them, waving their hands and screaming ‘here we are!’

Then, Tom thought of a way to solve both this problem *and* give him a reason to go check on the Flyer in the process. He gave Naomi a slightly embarrassed smile and began to explain: “You’re right, Naomi. I was going to set it up before we went foraging but I realized that I forgot a part for it in the Flyer, so I’m going to have to go get it first. Tell you what...” he said thoughtfully, as if just hitting on this idea, “... it doesn’t require the both of us to carry, so let’s be efficient. I’ll go get the part and get the beacon running, and you can stay here and start organizing the camp.” 

Naomi didn’t seem to like this suggestion. “Can’t I come with you instead?” she asked, looking at him with large, worried eyes. “I don’t want to be alone at the camp.” Tom responded by giving her the most reassuring smile he could muster. “It’ll be faster this way. Don’t worry - it’s perfectly safe here and I won’t be gone long. Twenty minutes at most. Okay?” 

“Okay.” Naomi said, though her expression told him that she wasn’t really entirely okay with it. “Promise you won’t be gone longer than that?” 

“Promise.” Tom replied, then indicated the ‘Organize the supplies' entry on the list. “You can start by just organizing everything by type. That is, put all our food in one place, all our tricorders in another, and so on. Then when I’m back we can find places for everything and make a proper inventory.” 

Naomi still didn’t look entirely onboard with the idea, but she didn’t argue, instead just nodding and setting off, PADD in hand, to start going through the camp. That went easier than I thought it would . She really must trust me a great deal, Tom thought. A great deal more than I deserve, he added with a bitter note of self-loathing.

Tom set off for the Flyer immediately, walking at a brisk pace and making as good speed as he could while keeping the noise he was generating to a minimum. As he got closer to the Flyer, he slowed down, listening carefully for any out-of-place sounds, but all that reached his ears was the rustle of leaves in the wind and the distant, barking cry of some alien animal.

Keeping his profile low, he covered the last of the distance to the tree line, peering out through the foliage and down towards the crash site. Quickly taking in the Flyer and the surroundings, he found it… very much the same as it had been yesterday. The only real difference was that the last of the smoldering fires had burnt themselves out, and the only aliens he saw was a flock of large, ostrich-like birds with feathers in all the colors of the rainbow strutting across the clearing.

I’m not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed, Tom thought to himself. On the one hand, we don’t have to worry about hostile natives objecting to our intrusion on their world, but on the other hand, it also means we’re well and truly on our own, with no one to ask for help. 

He shook his head, clearing it. He had a timeline to keep. He cleared the trees, crossing the distance to the Flyer with large steps, and giving the wreck a once-over. As he had already concluded, most of the ship was well and truly beyond repair, but a closer inspection yielded a more promising discovery: One of the backup power generators was still intact, and the replicator looked relatively undamaged. If he could get it back up and running… Best not to get your hopes up, Tom, he mentally warned himself. Still, he resolved to come back later and make a proper determination. 

Right, I’m supposed to be here to get something for the beacon, he reminded himself, looking around for something that would look the part. He found a power diagnostics tool that he’d left behind (as it contained no immediately useful technology for any alien finder) and put it in his pocket. He was just about to leave when he spotted a storage container that had come loose in the crash lying overturned on the floor. One of the items on the list had been to make a water basin, but why *make* one when this would do just fine? He picked it up, struggling only a little with its bulk, and then began making his way back to camp.

In the end, lugging the storage container back to camp slowed him down to the point where he missed his promised deadline. “You’re *late*!” Naomi said accusingly, pouting grumpily at him as he emerged from the trees. “You promised you’d only be gone twenty minutes, and it’s been…” she looked down at the PADD, “Twenty-five! That’s five more than you promised! I was WORRIED!” the pitch of her voice rose drastically, and he could feel a tantrum coming on.

“I’m sorry, Naomi.” Tom said, showing her the storage container. “I found this in the Flyer, we can use it as a water basin. It slowed me down, so that’s why I’m late, but now we can check another item off the list!” he tried, hoping that would placate her.

If anything, this seemed to have the opposite effect on Naomi. “I don’t CARE!” she replied angrily, “You PROMISED! You KNEW it was scary and you PROMISED you wouldn’t be LATE!” Tears started to form in her eyes and she threw the PADD with the list onto the ground demonstratively. “You can do your own STUPID list!” With that, she wheeled around and ran into the tent, closing the flap behind her. 

For a moment Tom stood there, stunned and feeling guilty again. He’d expected her to be a little upset at him for being late, but nothing like this. She seemed to have taken the fact that he’d broken his promise especially hard for some reason. He put down the storage container, picked up the fallen PADD (No worse for the wear, as PADDs were very sturdy little things) and tried, carefully, to approach the tent. He could hear muted crying from inside.

“Naomi?” he called out softly, only to be met with a heated “GO AWAY!” followed by more crying. He mentally debated with himself for a moment on whether to go inside anyway, then decided against it. I should leave her alone for a bit, he thought. She’s safe in there, and I can try again once she’s calmed down a little.

Looking around, Tom was struck by how orderly the camp looked - where previously the various packs and bags holding their supplies had been strewn about haphazardly, everything had now been properly arranged around the tent, propped against trees or rocks. Peering into a pack that he’d previously shoved various items from the Flyer into, he found a mix of ration packs and pelons, neatly packed against each other. Glancing at the PADD, he saw that Naomi had even started an inventory list below the to-do list, tallying up their food and power cells. She really took her task seriously, he thought. I have to remember to mention it later.

Keeping an eye on the tent just to be sure Naomi didn’t take off anywhere, Tom looked around for the emergency beacon, finding to his surprise that it had already been removed from its pack and placed nearby. She must’ve unpacked it for me while I was gone , he thought, feeling even more guilty about keeping her waiting. He picked it up and carried it up the side of the nearby hill. It can’t have been easy for her to have moved this, even a short distance , he thought to himself, now properly feeling its weight. 

Remaining within eyesight of the camp (and Naomi) he set the beacon down again once he was near the top of the hill. The added elevation probably didn’t matter *too* much, but you never knew. Hitting the power button to start it up, he selected ‘transmit’ mode and was prompted to enter an emergency message.

“This is Ensign Tom Paris of the Federation Starship Voyager,” he started, “issuing a general distress call to any ship within listening range. Our shuttlecraft has crashed on an unknown planet…” he had meant to say something about himself and Naomi but changed his mind. “... all members of the crew are unharmed, but we are unable to repair our ship and need transport off the planet. I repeat, this is Ensign Tom Paris, our shuttle is downed, all members of the crew are unharmed but we need transport off the planet.” If someone other than Voyager picks this up, no sense in letting them know that it’s just the two of us, he thought.

Hitting another button to indicate that recording was done, he waited a full minute to allow the message to be transmitted a few times, then switched modes to ‘receive’. In addition to the long-range broadcaster, emergency beacons also contained a short-range subspace transceiver that would let him pick up messages and even reply to them if the sender was within a few hundred million kilometers. For several minutes he scanned through the subspace frequencies, finding nothing but static but then, suddenly, a faint message that sounded like a human voice! Feeling his heart leap, he honed in on the message’s frequency, only to hear: “-gn T-m P--is, --r sh-t--e is d-wned, a-- m-m-ers -- --e cr-w a-e u---rm-d b-t we --ed tr--sp-r- -ff th- p-a--t”.

It was his own message, in his own voice, somehow being bounced back towards him in a garbled state. Is it being reflected by something further out in the system? What can even cause a subspace message to bounce like that? He could only hope that whatever it was, it wouldn’t stop the message from reaching Voyager. Sighing dejectedly, he switched the beacon back to ‘transmit’ and made his way back down the hill to the camp. Just as he reached it, the tent opened and Naomi emerged. Instead of anger, her face had a worried expression. Her eyes were red from crying and there was snot on both her face and the sleeve of her dress. 

“I’m sorry I yelled, Tom.” Naomi began before Tom could say anything, biting her lip and looking even more worried. “I didn’t mean to get mad at you, I just got scared when you didn’t come back. Please don’t be angry at me.” 

She’s worried that I’m angry at *her*? Oh, Naomi! Tom thought. Forgetting for the moment his reservations about touching her after yesterday, he stepped forward and held out his arms. Naomi ran into them, wrapping her small arms tightly around him. “Please don’t leave me alone again.” she pleaded with him, new tears forming in her eyes. “It’s so scary to be alone here and I don’t know what I would do if you didn’t come back.” 

“Shh, shh.” Tom said, holding one arm around her and stroking her gently on the head with his free hand. “Of course I’m not mad at you, it’s me who should apologize. I should have come back right away and gone back for the container later. I promise I won’t leave you again. From now on, we do everything together, okay?” Naomi was silent for a moment, then she nodded, her head gently tapping against his chest. “Okay.” she affirmed. Another pause. “I’m hungry.”

Over the lunch of ration packs and pelons, Tom told Naomi what he’d found at the wreck, deciding to disclose his hopes about the replicator hoping it’d cheer her up. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up,” he warned, “I don’t know if I can actually fix it. But if I can, it’ll help a lot. We’ll be able to have more than a single change of clothes, for one.” he said, looking skeptically at his dirty uniform.

This did indeed seem to perk Naomi right up. “I’m sure you can fix it, Tom.” she said, smiling sweetly and giving him her vote of confidence. “But now we can at least wash the ones we have, right?” she continued with a glance at the container he had brought back, “And take a bath in the stream? I feel icky.”

Washing and bathing… This was something Tom had been intentionally putting out of his mind given the inevitable involvement of nudity in the process, but there really was no avoiding it. Taking a large bite out of his pelon to give him time to think, he replied after swallowing, “Of course we can, after we eat. I’ll fill up the container, and you can bathe first while our clothes are soaking.” While I make sure to be somewhere else, he mentally added to himself.

Naomi looked hesitant at this. “Why can’t we bathe together?” she asked. “Isn’t that more efficient?” she added, throwing his earlier words back at him. She bit her lip again. “Please, Tom? You *said* we’d do everything together from now on...” 

Tom opened his mouth and closed it again, finding himself trapped once more by his own words and his own promises. He wanted to explain to her that it wasn’t appropriate, but he didn’t know how to do so without raising the topic of sex, which was a can of worms he wanted to avoid reopening at all costs. What’s wrong, Tom? his own voice in his head taunted, Afraid that you won’t be able to resist the sight of a naked little girl? “Okay, we can bathe together,” he said, struggling to keep his tone neutral. “First though, finish your food.” 

“Already full!” Naomi replied cheerfully, putting away her leftovers and resealing the ration pack. Before Tom could stop her, she stood up and pulled the dress over her head and tossed it on the ground nearby, swiftly followed by her underwear. Tom quickly averted his gaze, feeling his cheeks grow hot. “I’m gonna get in the water now!” she told Tom, who nodded, keeping his gaze firmly on his food. “You um, do that. I’m just gonna finish eating and uh, start the laundry.” 

“Okay, but don’t take too long.” Naomi replied. “Remember... you *promised*!” she added firmly, before running off towards the stream, giggling all the way. Right Tom, just keep those eyes focused elsewhere , he thought and put away his food, finding his appetite suddenly gone. He rose from his chair and picked up the improvised water basin, heading over to the stream and filling it while listening to Naomi splashing and giggling a bit further downstream. Now full of water, Tom carried the basin back to camp, placing the portable heater in it and switching the setting to one appropriate for heating up water. 

Good thing they make these things waterproof, Tom thought, stopping for a moment to steel himself before removing his uniform. He’d thought about bathing in his underwear, but dismissed the idea: Naomi would undoubtedly call him on it and he just didn’t see any way that conversation didn’t end with another capitulation. How do I keep losing these arguments, every single time? he thought to himself, only for the bitter reply to come from the self-loathing part of himself: How can you not? You haven’t told her the truth, just piled on more lies. Go on, tell her that you can’t be naked with a little girl because you think you’ll end up putting your hands on her again.

This isn’t helping! Tom replied angrily to himself, gathering up the clothes and putting them in the rapidly warming water to soak, “Tom, are you coming?” Naomi called out impatiently from the stream. Guess I can’t put it off anymore, Tom thought with a sigh, heading in the direction of her voice while keeping his gaze cast downwards. So focused was he on looking at the ground, the sudden burst of cold water that hit him took him by complete surprise, causing him to splutter and instinctively turn to look at the source. Naomi was standing facing him just a couple meters away, up to her knees in the stream, drops of water running down her naked body, which was on full display for him. She giggled loudly and splashed him with water again. “I’m right here, Tom.” she said with another giggle. “What *were* you looking at?” 

Tom felt his cheeks go hot again. She just doesn’t know any better, he reminded himself, for what seemed like the tenth time since yesterday. You’re going to have to try to just… deal with it. With some effort, he fought down his embarrassment and smiled back at Naomi. “Oh nothing in particular… just… this!” he said before reaching down and splashing water back at her, triggering a short-lived water fight that ended with both of them soaked and laughing. 

Tom set about washing himself as well as one was able to wash themselves in a cold forest stream, while Naomi continued playing in the water. “Don’t forget to wash too!” he called to her and she called back “Okay!”, sitting down and starting to scrub her skin with her hands. See, Tom? He chided himself. You were worrying about nothing. 

By the time they’d finished their bath, Tom had mostly stopped worrying about the nudity, and felt a bit silly for fretting so much over it in the first place. Of *course* Naomi wouldn’t see anything sexual in bathing together, he thought to himself. He sat down on a large rock in a nearby clearing, allowing the sun’s rays to start drying his skin, and Naomi sat down next to him, dangling her feet in the air and humming happily to herself. Look at her, he thought, glancing at her before looking back up at the sky. She’s just been enjoying herself like any kid would.

This thought lifted his mood, and for a moment everything seemed to him that it was going to be alright. Then he felt a small finger poke his shoulder, and when he looked back at Naomi, he saw that she was staring at him. More specifically, staring down between his legs, at the slack part of him that was hanging there.

Raising her gaze to meet Tom’s, Naomi pointed at his manhood and asked, with curious sincerity, “Tom, that’s your penis, isn’t it?” Then, before Tom could even collect himself for a response, the devastating follow-up, “When we were doing sex, why didn’t you put your penis in me?”

Chapter 6: Search

“When we were doing sex, why didn’t you put your penis in me?” 

The question had been asked so casually, as though Naomi was asking him about why she couldn’t bring things out from the holodeck, or why some people were tall and others short. He wanted to yell something, he wanted to run away, he wanted desperately that the both of them were wearing clothes right then and there. Instead, with superhuman effort, he forced himself into a state of relative calm, remembering all too well what his last such reaction had ended in.

“Naomi, *how* do you know about that?” he asked instead of answering her question. To his knowledge, sex ed hadn’t been part of her curriculum aboard Voyager thus far. Besides the one I've been giving her here, he added with another dose of mental self-recrimination.

“Seven told me!” Naomi replied. “I wanted to know how babies were made, and so I asked mom, but she just said she'd tell me when I was older….” she scrunched her face, showing her displeasure with that answer, “... but Seven often tells me things that the other adults won’t, so I asked her!” Naomi smiled proudly at her own cleverness. “She told me that boys have *penises*, and girls have *vaginas* and that the boy puts the penis…” she pointed once again at Tom, “... in the girl’s vagina, here.” Tom jerked his head away as she began to part her legs to show him. “Tom, you’re not looking.” she complained.

Wishing that the earth could just open and swallow him whole, Tom kept his gaze focused on a nearby tree as Naomi continued. “Anyway, Seven said that’s how humans make a baby, and that it’s called *sex*... but she also said that only adults can make babies, so I didn’t really think more about it until you said that we did sex, even though you only rubbed against me with your fingers.” The stream of words came to a momentary pause as she thought about it, and then continued. “Can you make a baby with your fingers too? Seven said that the Borg make babies in a different way, but I don’t think she meant that.”

Tom had no idea where to even begin, except to mentally curse Seven of Nine and her penchant for excessive honesty. Naomi was looking at him expectantly and he tried to gather his scattered thoughts. I didn’t think she knew about any of this stuff! That girl really is too smart for her own good. Okay, fine, you’re just going to have to clear up her misconceptions and try not to say anything stupid. “Seven was talking about one kind of sex. There’s different kinds, and not all of them result in a baby.” he finally managed.

“Oh.” Naomi said, thinking. “So when you do sex with your fingers like we did… there’s no baby?” I really wish she’d stop talking about us having sex, Tom thought, wincing. Well, you did, didn’t you? came the inevitable, undeniable mental reply. Though it’s actually called ‘molesting’ in a case like this. “There’s no baby.” Tom replied, struggling to enunciate each syllable.

Naomi nodded in sudden understanding. “But if you had put your penis in my vagina instead, then we’d have a baby? I get it!” She frowned again as another thought crossed her mind. “You and B’Elanna don’t have a baby, even though you have sex. Is it because you don’t have that kind of sex with her either?”

Tom would have given just about anything, up to and including limbs and non-vital organs, for this conversation to finally end. He looked back at Naomi, locking eyes with her. “Naomi,” he said, deciding to chance on a way to put the lid back on the subject, “You’re not supposed to ask about what kind of sex other people have. It’s rude.”  

She took it better than he’d feared, looking just a little dejected. “Oh, okay.” she said, casting her gaze down on the ground. “I was only wondering because… because doing sex feels nice, and I know we can’t anymore, because we’re not boyfriend and girlfriend....” At least that part got through, Tom thought with some small twinge of relief amidst the raging cascade of mortification and self-loathing that was the rest of his mind at the moment. “... but maybe one day I will have a boyfriend, so I want to know more about it.” A pause, “For then.” she added.

Tom opened his mouth, closed it again, and just sat there thinking, What have I done her? No girl her age should be talking about sex like this. When we’re back on Voyager, I have to come clean immediately. She needs someone who can set her straight, and that someone *clearly* isn’t me. His thoughts were interrupted by Naomi suddenly standing up, giving Tom a smile and announcing, “I’m dry now! I want to go back to camp!”, apparently done with her questions for now.

They made the short trek back to the camp, Naomi running ahead with undiminished energy while Tom walked behind with heavy steps, his mind once again in turmoil. He set about washing their clothes while Naomi sat nearby, snacking on a pelon, chatting idly in between bites. To Tom’s great relief, the topic of sex didn’t come up again, with Naomi now instead focused on telling him about how she’d organized the camp while he was gone and basking in the praise he gave her.

By the time their clothes had dried and Tom could finally get dressed again, it had begun to grow dark, and after they ate dinner Naomi yawned and announced that she was tired. Tomorrow, I’m fixing that damn replicator, Tom resolved to himself as he was laying in his sleeping bag, listening to the sounds of the darkened forest all around him. No more being naked together, not if I can avoid it. To his surprise (and relief) Naomi had not asked to sleep next to him again, instead just crawling into her sleeping bag and apparently falling asleep right away.

The next morning, Tom had checked the beacon but found only static, not even his own reflected message coming up on the frequencies this time. After breakfast, they packed a bag full of food and went back to the Flyer, where Tom set to work on the replicator while Naomi played nearby and occasionally tried to help or pelted him with random questions. By the evening, Tom hadn't even got *close* to fixing the thing, but he did determine that it probably *was* fixable… if he could scavenge some components from the wreck to replace certain burnt-out circuits. After they returned to camp, he once more checked the beacon (with the same results) and they went to sleep, once again in separate bedrolls.

This routine continued to repeat itself over the course of a week, with Tom’s repairs making steady progress despite numerous minor setups. Despite his trepidation about getting naked again, they bathed and washed their clothes several more times without incident, and Naomi didn’t raise the subject of sex again. Instead, their conversations revolved around topics such as new animals they’d seen, what they would replicate first when Tom was done (both of them being quite tired of eating only fruit and ration packs by now) and things they would do when they were back on Voyager. “I want to go to the holodeck!” Naomi had said. “Mom promised me she’d go with me for the new Adventures of Flotter program!”

At night, they continued to sleep separately, and Tom was beginning to hope that Naomi had finally put what happened behind her. All the while, the suns rose each morning on perfectly blue skies and pleasant temperatures, and Tom was genuinely starting to think that their luck with the weather might hold until they were rescued. Those were the thoughts in his mind as, on the eighth day since their crash landing, he went to check on the beacon, turning it to receive and going through the frequencies as usual… when he suddenly heard a familiar voice coming through clear as day.

“-is Voyager. Tom, can you hear us? Tom, Naomi? Are you in there? Please respond, this is Voyager.” The voice belonged to Captain Janeway. Voyager has found us! Tom’s heart leaped in his chest, and for a moment he felt light-headed with relief. Why are you happy? a malicious voice in his head snarled at him, You know what they’ll do to you…

Yeah, I know. Tom thought, and I’m not looking forward to that part. But we’re getting off this planet… Naomi is getting off this planet. *That* is what matters! Hell, it’s not like I don’t *deserve* what I have coming, he added and the voice fell silent. Pinpointing their broadcast frequency, he practically shouted into the transceiver, “I hear you, Voyager, loud and clear! This is Tom, Naomi is with me too. We’re both fine, but we’ve crash-landed on the surface of an M-class planet in the system.”

There was a moment of silence, and then, from the communicator. “This is Janeway. Tom, Naomi, if you can hear us, please respond.” She didn’t hear me , Tom thought, I must have been on the wrong frequency. Tweaking the transceiver, he spoke again. “Captain, this is Tom, I can hear you. We’re both fine but in need of a lift. Follow this signal to our location.”

Again, the same type of message from Voyager, and again Tom tried to tweak the frequency and reply to no avail. She should be able to hear me, Tom thought, why can’t she hear me? Then, another voice cut in, a woman’s voice, cool and clear-headed, through the open channel. “Captain, we have attempted to locate Ensign Tom Paris and Naomi Wildman within the rift for a week now, without success. I know you do not wish to consider the possibility, but the conclusion is clear: They are both almost certainly dead.” The voice belonged, of course, to Seven of Nine.

Rift? What rift? Wait, what? Dead?! “We’re not dead!” Tom yelled into the transceiver. “Don’t listen to her, we’re *right here*!”

“You can’t know that for sure, Seven.” Janeway replied with a similarly neutral tone. “We have no direct evidence one way or another.” That’s right Seven, the Captain won’t give up on us! Tom thought, desperately.

“Do we not, Captain?” Seven replied, her tone even. “We know for a fact that the Delta Flyer entered the rift one hundred and ninety-seven hours, forty-five minutes and fifteen seconds ago, at which point we immediately lost contact with it. We also know that the gravity inside the rift stands at a thousand times earth standard, or ten times greater than you would experience standing on the surface of Earth’s sun.” She paused for a moment before continuing her onslaught of unassailable logic. “Need I remind you, Captain, that the Delta Flyer is not built to withstand such forces? Not even a Borg Cube could survive for long in there.” 

“I know that Seven, but damn it, I can’t just *give up* on them. It’s Tom and Naomi, for god’s sake! Don’t *you* want to save them? Don’t you want to save Naomi at least?” Janeway’s voice rose, grief and anger shining through despite her best efforts to stay collected.

“Of course I do, Captain.” Seven replied, her tone unchanged, “However, what I want has no bearing on the actuality of the situation. Our deuterium stores are running low, with no known resupply location in range, and we have already spent a dozen probes, all of which were immediately destroyed upon entering the rift. Remaining here much longer puts the ship and the entire crew at risk. I grieve for Tom and Naomi as much as you do, Captain, but adding our deaths to theirs does not change anything.”

There was a long moment of silence. Tom tried once more, desperately, yelling and screaming into the transceiver, even though he knew it was fruitless. 

“That last probe, the one that B'Elanna rigged up.” Janeway finally said. “It sent data back, didn’t it? Has the computer finished its analysis?”

“Not ye-” Seven began to say, before correcting herself, “No, wait. The data is coming in now. Confirming gravitic readings, heavily compressed matter. Traces of alloys, biological materials, exotic particles.” There was a long moment of silence, then she continued, in a slightly muted voice. “Captain, the computer has found alloys matching those used in the Delta Flyer’s construction in the readings. There are also molecular traces containing Human and Human-Ktarian DNA." Another long pause. "Captain, they are a match for the DNA records of Ensign Tom Paris and Naomi Wildman.”

There was a long, defeated silence. Tom simply stood there, stunned, unable to believe what he was hearing. Unable to take it in. “Helm.” Janeway said.  “Set a course out of system, full impulse.” Her voice was heavy with grief. “Chakotay, will you handle the funeral arrangements? I… need to talk to B'Elanna… and Naomi’s mother.” Another pause. “Oh and close that damn channel!"

The transceiver fell silent, emitting only static once more. Still in shock, Tom heard a sound behind him and snapped around, catching sight of Naomi, her face pale, her fists curled into balls, nails digging into the skin of her palms. She heard it, was all Tom could think. She heard it all.

Naomi turned and ran.

Chapter 7: Comfort

Naomi ran down the hill, away from the beacon, away from the camp, away from Tom. Go after her, you idiot! Do you want to lose her too? This thought finally shook him out of his paralyzed state and he took off after Naomi, making his way after her as fast as he could. He ran with a reckless speed that had him nearly stumbling and falling several times in the process of making his way down. Even so, he wasn’t fast enough. By the time he reached the foot of the hill she was nowhere to be seen, and he felt panic rising within him. Where would she have gone?!

“Naomi!” he shouted, but his only response was that of leaves rustling in the wind. Why didn’t I give her a combadge? he mentally cursed himself. He’d been *meaning* to show her how to use one, but with her staying near him at all times over the last week it just hadn’t seemed that urgent. He began to mentally list places that she might run to, checking first the stream, then a nearby pelon grove, then circling back to camp just in case she had returned there. No Naomi.

“Naomi, please come back!” he shouted again. Think, Tom, think! She’s got to be scared out of her mind. If she’s hiding somewhere, it would be somewhere familiar, somewhere she thinks of as safe. Somewhere… familiar… a thought suddenly struck him, and he set off sprinting in the direction of the crash site.

It was getting well and truly dark now, and he noted a chill and a wetness in the air that he hadn’t felt on any of the previous nights. It’s going to rain *now* of all times? Tom thought, redoubling his pace. What is this, a planet with a penchant for drama? By the time he emerged from the trees into the clearing with the crash site, heavy grey clouds had begun to appear on the horizon, and the wind seemed to be picking up. He couldn’t see any sign of Naomi, and he could only pray that he wasn’t mistaken, that she wasn’t wandering lost in the woods right now.

Covering the last of the distance to the Flyer while calling out for Naomi, he checked first the rear of the ship, searching the living quarters and cargo bay and then, finally, the front section. He found her there, huddled up in the pilot’s chair, arms wrapped around her legs and face buried in her knees. “Naomi.” he said, softly, and she looked up at him, looking more scared than he’d ever seen her before.

He took a single step forward and suddenly she got up, running towards him, throwing herself into his arms. He held her for a long time as she cried and cried, in hulks and sobs and tears, while he stroked her over the head, saying nothing, just offering wordless comfort. Tom had no idea how much time passed like that. Outside, rain had begun to fall from the skies in a light drizzle, the sound of raindrops striking against the hull the only sound he could hear besides Naomi’s sobbing. 

Finally, it seemed as though Naomi could cry no more, and she raised her head to look at him, speaking in a small and hoarse voice, “Tom, is this some bad dream I’m having? If it is, I want to wake up. I really want to wake up now.” she said, pleading with him as if it was within his power to make her wake up in her bed at Voyager safe and sound. I wish it was, Tom thought. I’d happily spend the rest of my life alone on this planet if I could just send her back to her mom.

Of course, Tom had no such power, and so he just gently shook his head and looked into her eyes. He had to say something, anything, “I’m sorry… but it’s going to be okay. I promised you, didn’t I?” Naomi lowered her head, avoiding his gaze and placing her head against his chest again. “I’m going to get us off this planet, just you wait, I promise I’m-” Naomi said something, but her voice was muffled by his body and Tom couldn’t make out the words. “What did you say, Naomi?” he asked her, gently squeezing her shoulder. She looked up at him, meeting his gaze once more, her eyes red from crying. “Please stop lying.” she said.

Tom reeled as though he had been stuck by a physical blow. “Wh- what did you say?” he sputtered out, unable to quite believe his ears. “Please stop saying things that aren’t true.” Naomi replied in a voice so sad it seemed to Tom that his heart was being wrenched out of his chest. “I know you’re not doing it to be mean, I know you’re doing it so I won’t feel sad, but I don’t want you to do it anymore.”

Tom let his mouth hang wide open, unable to formulate a response, so Naomi simply continued. “You promised that Voyager would come rescue us, even though you couldn’t know that. You promised that the crash wasn’t my fault, but you don’t know that either! You promised… you promised we wouldn’t stay forever here, but I heard what Seven said. They think we’re dead, and we’re not getting rescued...” her voice was growing more agitated “... and you keep making promises to me and you keep saying things and you’re just lying!”

Naomi pulled away from Tom and stared at him accusingly, the words tumbling out of her. “You said you love me, but that’s a lie too. I know you don’t want to be here with me, that you don’t want to touch me or be near me. I…” she bit her lip, voice wavering, “I- I’m scared most nights and I want to sleep next to you, but I know you don’t want to, so I don’t. I know you want to keep your promise to B’Elanna, and I’ve been trying so hard, but… why is it that you don’t want to keep any of your promises to *me*? Why is *everything* that *I* want always *wrong*?!”

Tom felt like he had been punched in the gut repeatedly. He’d made a terrible mistake that first night, and everything he’d done afterwards - the promises, the little lies, keeping her at arm’s length - he thought he’d been doing it for Naomi, but in the end, he’d just made everything worse again. She only has me now , Tom thought despondently, and she thinks that I hate her. How do I even begin to fix this?

You could just give her what she wants , the treacherous thought rose to the surface of his mind. He recoiled from it, but it continued, in its horrible, utterly damning logic. You know as well as she does that you’re not getting off this planet. Everyone on Voyager thinks you’re dead, and if there was a warp-capable civilization on this planet, don’t you think you’d have noticed by now? Don’t you think they’d have seen the crash, or picked up your message, or that you’d have at least heard some subspace chatter in the system? Face it, Tom Paris. You and Naomi are going to be living out your lives here.

That doesn’t mean I should-… he began to argue with himself, but feeling those same treacherous thoughts taking over once more. That you shouldn’t do what? What you *already did*? What this girl so obviously *wants* you to do? What a part of you *wants to do to her*?

Something broke inside Tom Paris.

For a week, he had managed the disgust and self-loathing over his actions by awaiting his punishment at the hands of Voyager. He’d managed it by keeping a physical and emotional distance from Naomi. He’d managed it by repressing his emotions and his fears, but in the end, he too was lonely. He too was in need of intimacy, to hold and be held. He desperately missed B’Elanna and wished that she was here, but she wasn’t. There was nobody here but the two of them. There was no rescue coming, no resolution. Not even a punishment.

“Tom? Tom, say something?” Naomi’s voice broke through his racing thoughts and he realized he’d been standing there for some time, saying nothing. The anger seemed to have gone out of her, replaced with worry. “I’m sorry if I made you mad at me, but please say something.”

Tom looked at the small, frightened girl in front of him, the child in front of him, and in that moment, he wanted her too. Not in a way that was truly sexual, not in the way he wanted B’Elanna, but he wanted to hold her, to comfort her, to make her feel good, to stop the hurt he was seeing in her eyes and through it, cure some of his own hurts. There was a part of him that was screaming at him in his mind, screaming to stop, and he knew *this* part of him was *right* and that what he was about to do was *wrong*, that he was doing it for his own sake rather than hers. It didn’t matter.

Tom Paris stepped forward and lifted Naomi up into his arms. She let out a protest, but then he shifted her against his side, placing one hand underneath her, the other around her. Her legs parted around him and he pressed her against his hip. She looked at him, wide-eyed, with an unspoken question. He nodded, and she buried her face in his neck. Closed her eyes.

Outside, the rain was now falling heavily and it was getting cold inside the exposed interior of the Flyer. Knowing that they couldn’t stay the night there, Tom stepped out into the rain, shielding Naomi with his body as best he could. Holding her as tightly as he’d ever held anyone, Tom began to make his way back to warmth and safety, through the cold and the rain, through the trees and rocks and undergrowth.

Bumping against her as they went.

Chapter 8: Warmth

By the time he arrived at the camp, Tom was both cold and thoroughly wet. The wind had picked up and the cold, hard raindrops were coming in at an angle, lashing at his unprotected face and hands. Good thing we stowed everything away properly. With any luck, we shouldn’t lose any of our supplies, Tom thought to himself as he strode past the now soaked campsite, clutching Naomi tightly to him, her legs parted around his hip in a way so that with every move he would grind against her most sensitive parts. 

Reaching the tent, Tom quickly opened the flap, bundled Naomi inside, and then followed himself, closing it quickly behind him. Federation survival tents were designed to withstand rough planetary conditions, and the inside of the tent was mercifully dry, but only a little warmer than the outside. Tom reached over for the portable heater, switched it on, and set it to area heating mode. 

As the heater started to slowly spread a pleasant warmth through the tent, Tom turned to Naomi, who was watching him silently, a strange expression on her face. Though Tom was by far the more soaked of the two, as he’d done his best to shield her from the rain with his body, it hadn’t been possible to keep her out of the rain entirely and he could see that she was shivering slightly from the cold.

“We need to get out of our wet clothes.” he said to her, removing his uniform after a bit of a struggle with peeling the soaked fabric away from his skin. Naomi nodded, taking off her dress and handing it to Tom. “Underwear too.” he added, taking off his own, and Naomi obediently stripped off her panties with no hesitation at all. Tom took the wet clothes and hung them on a clothesline made of metal wiring from the Flyer (their solution to the Drying to-do list item) that he had rigged up inside the tent a few days prior. 

Tom turned back around to face Naomi. She’d been silent the entire way back, aside from the occasional involuntary noise elicited when his body had bumped against hers in a particularly pleasurable way. She still had that strange, uncertain look on her face, as though she simply didn’t know what would happen next and was waiting for him to tell her. 

What would happen next... during the walk back from the crash site, Tom had had some time to think about this, and his mind was made up. There was still a voice in his head that told him he was making the wrong choice, that he was being selfish, that there were better alternatives still available to him. It was fainter, but it was there. He just wasn’t listening to it anymore.

He cleared the distance between them in a single step, went down onto his knees, and placed his hand on her cheek while looking directly into her eyes. Leaning in closer, Tom Paris put his lips against Naomi Wildman's and kissed her. The kiss was soft, tender and, even to someone as inexperienced on the subject as Naomi, unmistakably romantic. Her eyes widened in first surprise and then wonder, as Tom began to gently stroke his fingers against the sensitive ridges on her forehead while keeping his lips against hers for a short while. 

Breaking the kiss and moving to a sitting position, Tom moved his hand to Naomi’s shoulder and smiled at her, and then she finally spoke. “Does this mean-” she bit her lip, gathering her courage. “Does this mean that we’re boyfriend and girlfriend now?” The question was asked with an innocence that belied the undeniably sexual act that had happened between them on the way to the camp. Tom nodded. “Yes, that’s what it means, Naomi. If you want me to, I will be your boyfriend.” 

Naomi seemed like she could barely believe what she was hearing. From her expression, she’d clearly expected a ‘No’, and it took her a few seconds to formulate a response. “But… isn’t B’Elanna your girlfriend? What about your promise to her?”

Even though he’d asked himself this question several times over during the walk, and even though cheating on B’Elanna was surely the smallest of the sins he had decided to commit, the question still hurt. He was never going to see B’Elanna again, never talk to her again, never kiss her again, never again feel her glowing hot skin against his while she dug her nails into his back as they made love. 

Neither of them were ever going to be seeing anyone on Voyager again. Not B’Elanna, not Naomi’s mom, not Captain Janeway, not Seven or Harry or Chakotay or even Neelix. If this planet turned out to be uninhabited, there was a good chance that they would never see *anyone* else again, that the life that awaited them on this planet was one where they only had each other. Knowing this, the simple truth was that Tom Paris did not have it in him to deny Naomi anything, no matter how morally wrong, that would make her feel better... and that he had promised himself to go through with this, if she still wanted it. 

Tom took a deep breath and spoke, “You were right, Naomi, when you said that I’d been lying. However, I wasn’t just lying to you, I was lying to myself too. I wanted so badly to be able to tell you that we’d be able to get out of here that I came to believe it myself.” He paused for a moment, gazing directly into her eyes. “There are some promises that are more important to keep than others, and to keep the new promise I’ve made to myself, I have to break my promise with B’Elanna. Do you understand?”

Naomi shook her head, “Not really, but…” a faint smile appeared on her face, the first he’d seen from her since they heard the message from Voyager, “... it doesn’t matter, because I want to be your girlfriend. I love you, Tom.” The words were said with complete childish sincerity, and once again Tom was reminded of exactly what it was he was heading into. She should have been saying those words to a boy her own age, he thought, but instead he just replied, “I love you too, Naomi.”

The smile that now lit up Naomi’s features was as brilliant as the rising sun. She leapt forward into his arms and he held her against him as she tried to imitate the way that he had kissed her, with limited success, resembling more a chaste peck than any sort of real kiss. Outside the tent, the rain was falling as heavily as ever, but by now the heater had done its job and returned the inside of the tent to a pleasant temperature, an oasis of warm solace against the wetness and cold that surrounded them. Disentangling herself from him, Naomi sat herself back onto the ground and looked up into Tom’s face. “Um…” she began, “are we going to do sex now?” 

Tom shook his head. “No, Naomi. Not… yet.” he reached over and placed his hand on her head, giving her a soft smile. “We’re… going to need to take things slow, okay? Sex isn’t something you should just jump into like that.” By now, the heat in the tent had mostly dried them both, and Tom reached over for a pack in the corner, producing a blanket and gently placing it around Naomi’s shoulders, wrapping her in a cocoon of warmth and snugness. 

Tom placed his hand on Naomi’s head, stroking her hair as he continued to explain, “That first time, with the fingers? That was still wrong of me. I know you asked me to, but you’re not ready for that yet.” Not to mention how very much not ready *I* am for anything like that, he thought, the memory of it still filling him with intense shame and regret. Naomi peered at him with a slight frown from her blanket-fort, but didn’t say anything. How do I explain this to her? Maybe with a comparison… 

“It’s like ship’s operations.” This made Naomi raise her eyebrows quizzically. “You can’t start out as Captain, or First Officer, or even a Cadet. First, you have to learn all the little things, like how the replicators and turbolifts work… and then you can move on to more advanced things, like how to use the sensors, or program a holosuite.” What the hell are you talking about, Tom Paris? he chastised himself. This is the worst sex analogy in the entire history of sex analogies!

Amazingly, it seemed to work. “I get it.” Naomi said, wrinkling her brow in thought and pulling the blanket even closer to herself. “It’s like when I told Seven that I wanted to work on the bridge, and she said that my, um” she struggled to pronounce the word, “ne-o-kor-tek was too immature, and that I needed to focus on learning other things first.” Naomi paused for a moment, thinking, “So is kissing one of the other things I should learn first?” she asked Tom, looking back up to him and smiling brightly. “I like kissing!”

Thank you, Seven, Tom thought to himself, barely able to believe that his direct comparison of starship operations to sexual intimacy had done the trick. “Exactly!” he said, patting her on the head approvingly. “You’re a very smart girl, Naomi Wildman,” he continued, and she beamed happily from the praise. He stood up, making his way over to his bedroll. "However, now it’s time for us to get some rest. You can sleep next to me if you want.” he offered, glancing back at her. “Do you want to?”

Naomi nodded, rising from her sitting position and dropping the blanket behind her, crossing the short distance between them. Tom got in the bedroll first, holding out his arms invitingly, and Naomi followed, snuggling in under them. Closing those strong arms securely around her small form, Tom held her closely as she laid there with her back against his chest. He closed his eyes, feeling the tiredness from everything that had happened during the day.

“Tom?” Naomi suddenly said, in a hushed tone. 

“Yes, Naomi?” Tom replied, without opening his eyes.

“I miss my mom,” Naomi admitted. There was sadness in her voice. After a moment, she continued, “I miss everyone on Voyager.”

Tom hugged her even closer, opening his eyes as he spoke to her softly, his own sadness and loneliness mirroring hers. “Me too. I miss B’Elanna and everyone else.”

“But…” Naomi said, “I’m happy you’re here, Tom. I’m happy I’m not alone.” Another pause. “Please don’t leave me alone.” Her voice was pleading, almost desperate, as though she imagined that he might one day simply walk off and leave her by herself.

How could I ever? I’d rather die! Tom thought to himself. He started to gently stroke Naomi’s hair again as he spoke. “I won’t.” he said, “I won’t ever leave you alone, Naomi. No matter what, we’ll always have each other. That’s a promise I’m going to keep.”

Naomi was silent for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.” she said, and closed her eyes again. For a few minutes, everything was quiet again, then Naomi spoke one more time, in a voice blurred with drowsiness. “I’m happy I crash-landed with you, Tom, and not with someone else.”

With that, she fell asleep in his arms.

Chapter 9: Dawn

Tom woke up in the early dawn of the next morning. For a moment, he didn’t remember where he was, then he felt the presence of the still sleeping Naomi pressed against him, and everything that had happened the previous day came back to him. Outside, the rain had lessened but not stopped, and for a minute he lay there, listening to the raindrops as they struck the canvas of the tent.

Naomi made a whimpering sound and shifted a bit in his arms. Glancing down at her, he saw that she was obviously still asleep but breathing quickly, a worried expression on her face. She fidgeted against him again and let out another whine. She must be having a nightmare, Tom thought, moving a hand to her head and began to gently stroke her hair, his motions slow and careful so as not to wake her. This seemed to calm her, her expression became peaceful again, and her breathing returned to normal.

I wonder how many of the nights over the last week she lay all alone in her own bedroll with just her nightmares for company, Tom thought with a pang of guilt. All because I was too afraid to have her close. Well, no more. 

He didn’t feel fully rested, but he also didn’t feel like he could go back to sleep, so instead Tom just lay there, continuing to gently stroke her head as he thought about what they should do now. It wouldn’t be enough anymore to just plan to survive a few weeks, or a few months. They needed to think long-term: Years, decades… possibly their whole lives. He began to consider the problems they’d face in his head, one by one, to formulate and re-formulate plans, to think about the potential dangers that might face them. 

This kept Tom occupied for several hours until Naomi stirred in her sleep and opened her eyes, letting out a great big yawn before rolling around to look at him. “Good morning, Tom.” Naomi said, with a sleep-blurred voice. She glanced up towards the roof of the tent. “It’s still raining,” she remarked. Tom nodded. “Less than last night, though. I think it might let up soon.” He regarded the sleepy girl in the bedroll next to him and, after a moment’s hesitation, leaned over and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Take your time waking up, I’ll fix us some breakfast.”

By the time they’d eaten, the rain had further decreased in strength to little more than a drizzle, and Tom had begun to explain the thoughts and plans he’d formulated to Naomi. “We’re going to move the campsite to the Flyer,” he said, putting away the empty ration-pack that he had just finished. “It’ll be a little further away to get water, but we can use it for storage and shelter in case the weather gets truly bad.”

Naomi wrinkled her brow in thought and frowned a little. “But… why didn’t we do that from the start? Why did we carry everything over here if we’re just going to carry it back? Is it because we don’t need the beacon anymore? But...” Her frown grew deeper, “That doesn’t explain why we couldn’t use it as shelter before.” Naomi looked at Tom, clearly expecting an explanation.

Tom sighed inwardly. She really is smart for her age. Too smart sometimes. “I’m sorry, Naomi. When I told you that we weren’t going to camp in the Flyer, I told you it was because of the beacon, but that was a lie. The truth is, I was worried that there might be hostile people on this planet, and that they might have seen the Flyer. I didn’t tell you the real reason because I didn’t want to scare you.”

“Oh.” Naomi said, her face taking on an expression that made it clear that she was distressed by his lie. “You mean like the Kazon, or the Vidiians? But you don’t think so anymore?” She bit her lip and was silent for a moment, then continued. “I know you don’t want me to be scared, but I don’t like it when you tell lies, Tom. It makes me afraid that you’re telling lies about other things.” She looked directly at him with large eyes full of hurt. 

You’re such an idiot, Tom Paris, he chided himself. You need to stop hurting this girl in your misguided attempts to do what you think is best for her. “It was wrong of me to lie, just like it was wrong of me to make promises that I couldn’t keep,” he began, meeting her gaze and doing his best to sound as sincere as he felt, “I won’t do it again. No more lies, no more secrets or broken promises. From now on, I’ll tell you everything about what's happening.”

Naomi seemed to consider this for a moment, “You promise? You’ll tell me even if it’s scary?” Tom nodded, and she continued, “Even if it’s grown-up stuff?” He nodded again, “Even if… you think it will make me sad?” She looked very vulnerable in that moment, as if she’d suddenly realized just how much of a ‘grown-up’ situation this crash landing had placed her in. 

“Everything.” Tom affirmed, “Even if it’s scary, even if it’s sad, I’ll tell you everything that I would tell a grown-up, everything I would tell B’Elanna if she was here.” He meant it, too. Every time he’d lied or tried to keep a secret since they crash-landed, it seemed like he’d only ever made things worse. He simply couldn’t afford to make more mistakes like that going forward.

This seemed to mollify Naomi. “Okay,” she said after a moment’s thought, then suddenly changed topic, “Are we going to make a new list?” she asked. “For all the things you said we’d need now?”

This seemed to Tom as good a plan as any while waiting for the weather to clear, and so they sat down with the PADD and started on a new to-do list focused on long-term survival. With shelter now solved, the only item left on the old to-do list was Naomi’s ‘Find Deuterium’ entry, which she insisted on transferring to the new list, and Tom let her do so without argument. It’s probably her way of holding onto the hope that Voyager will come for us despite everything, he thought to himself, I shouldn’t take that away from her.

They worked on the list for quite some time and ended up with quite a few entries of varying significance, but there were a few items that Tom noted as being of the most immediate importance:

• Move the camp
• Fix the replicator
• Map the surrounding area
• Arrange permanent housing

The first three points were straightforward enough, but the last one was something that Tom had spent quite some time turning over in his head while Naomi slept. While the tent they had was good enough to put a roof over their heads in the short term, what they really needed was a proper shelter where they could sleep, cook their meals and store their supplies. What they needed was a house.

Tom’s first idea had been to repurpose the Flyer into something properly habitable again, but the more he thought about it, the less he liked the idea. For one, the gaping holes in the hull would need to be patched up before they could live there, and even if they were, the Flyer wasn’t exactly spacious, especially now that it was in two pieces. Secondly, and more importantly, the Flyer was just too valuable a resource for its *parts*. 

Barring an alien civilization to trade with, the Flyer was the only source of metal alloys they were likely to encounter, as Tom wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of starting up a local mining operation even if there were metal deposits around to exploit. In the long run, those precious metals would be wasted if all they used them for was to keep the elements at bay. Of course, if he got the replicator back up and running, they could replicate smaller metal pieces as needed, but why not use what was already there for the taking first? Well, whatever the solution ends up being, the replicator comes first, he thought.

Tom was pulled out of his thoughts by Naomi’s voice. “It’s stopped raining,” she said, looking up towards the tent roof. Indeed, the sound of raindrops had ceased and Tom opened the tent flap, peering outside. The hours upon hours of downpour had turned the earth to mud and painted the leaves and bushes with a splatter of raindrops. A light fog was rising from the ground due to the resulting condensation. Everything smelled wet, and a heavy silence hung in the air.

As they emerged from the tent, Naomi looked around, appearing wide-eyed and a little unsettled. She’s never experienced anything like this outside of the holodeck, Tom thought. Looking up towards the sky, Tom saw that the clouds were beginning to clear. “I don’t think it’ll start raining again for a while,” he told Naomi. “We should start moving the campsite right away.”

This turned out to be even more arduous than lugging it there in the first place due to the fog, muddy ground and added weight of the wet packs. By the time the camp had been properly struck and everything moved back to the Flyer, both suns were high in the sky. The fog had dispersed by now, and the suns were once again shining on them, lifting their mood a little. As he emerged from the Flyer after re-stowing the last of their supplies, Tom looked around to take proper stock of their surroundings.

The meadows that the Flyer had come down in formed a natural clearing perhaps a square kilometer in size, where only a few lonely trees grew among the grass and low bushes. Instead, the ground was covered in a dizzying variety of wildflowers in all the colors of the rainbow. There were all sorts of animals here too: Colorful birds hunted and scavenged among the grass, insects hummed and buzzed everywhere, and at one point Tom saw some kind of small, furry mammal-like creature with stark yellow fur quickly scurry away from them and into a burrow in the ground.

They took a quick break for lunch before pitching the tent right next to the rear section of the Flyer, in a way that would hide it from the view of anyone approaching from a southern direction. Not that I expect it to matter, or know from what direction any potential natives would be coming, but a little extra caution never hurts, he thought to himself.

Moving the camp had been arduous work for both of them (with Naomi insisting on carrying things that Tom thought were far too heavy for her), and he could see that she was looking beat. Feeling more than a little tired himself after his mostly sleepless night, Tom announced that a proper break was in order, which Naomi more than readily agreed to. The radiant sunshine had returned the temperature to pleasantly warm levels, so even though the ground was still a bit damp, the two of them simply lay down on their backs in the grass.

Staring up at the now clear blue skies, Tom felt Naomi cuddle up against him and put her head on his chest. For a while, they simply laid like that in silence, then Naomi glanced up at him and spoke. “It’s really pretty here,” she said. “Is Earth as pretty as this?”

Tom nodded, before adding, “Parts of Earth, at least, the ones where there aren’t so many humans. Not that it isn’t beautiful in San Francisco or the other cities,” he added after a moment’s pause, “but it isn’t unspoiled like this. Though, on Earth, nature isn’t as… friendly.” he looked around at the insects and the birds, all minding their own business and ignoring the two planetary interlopers. “A lot more biting bugs and stinging plants. No pelons, either.” he added with a little grin.

Naomi was quiet for a bit, seeming to think about what he’d said. “Do you think Voyager will ever get to Earth?” she suddenly asked. The question took Tom by complete surprise, and he struggled to answer it at first, unsure what answer she wanted to hear, but settling on simple honesty, “I’m sure they will,” he eventually said, “Captain Janeway wouldn’t have it any other way.”

This seemed to satisfy Naomi, and she returned to gazing at the sky for a bit. “Tom?” she asked again. “Can you… stroke me on the hair again? I like it when you do that.” She was silent for a moment, then continued, “My mom used to do it all the time when I was little.”

You’re still little, Naomi, Tom thought with a twinge of sadness. But I guess in many ways, your childhood has ended. He ran his fingers through her long blonde hair, feeling the tangles that had formed in it after more than a week without proper care. “Ow!” Naomi said as he began to unconsciously unravel one of the tangles. “That hurts!”

Naomi pulled her head away from his hand and turned to look at him accusingly. “I’m sorry.” Tom said, holding up his hands. “I won’t do it again, at least until we can care for it properly. It’s just a shame to have such pretty hair be so tangled.” The anger disappeared immediately from Naomi’s face. “You think… I... have pretty hair?” she asked, seemingly unsure if he was teasing her or not.

“Of course I do.” Tom said, putting on his most charming smile, deciding that a bit of flattery was the best way to both make her forgive his clumsiness and put her mind off Voyager. “As pretty as the very pretty girl it’s attached to. The prettiest girl on this planet.” he added.

Naomi blushed, smiling happily, so pleased with his compliment that she didn’t even catch on to the ‘on the planet’ part, which Tom had immediately regretted phrasing in the way he did. “I think you’re pretty too, Tom!” she said in a completely earnest tone. “Um, I mean handsome, you don’t usually say that boys are pretty, right?” Tom laughed and shook his head. “I don’t mind,” he said. “You can call me pretty if you want. Beats the alternative!”

Naomi nodded, still smiling brightly, her cheeks a bit flushed. “Tom?” she asked, rolling over on her stomach, her chin propped up on his chest. “Can you teach me about kissing again?” she looked at him for a moment before adding, “Please?” The sun was shining down on them as they lay there among the wildflowers, a light breeze swaying the grass. Nearby, a bird broke out into song, and Tom couldn’t help but feel struck by the slight absurdity of it all. Under other circumstances, this could hardly be more romantic, he thought, more than a little reluctant to let things escalate further in that direction. You did promise her, though.

Tom nodded, agreeing to her request. Naomi smiled that brilliant, happy smile of hers and scooted further up along him until they were face-to-face. “Just kissing though,” he said and she nodded, leaning a bit closer before stopping mere centimeters away from his face, clearly unsure of what to do next. Putting aside his reluctance and focusing on his promise, Tom placed his hand on the side of her face and leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a brief kiss. “Like that,” he said. “Now it’s your turn.”

Naomi tried to do as he’d done, achieving only a little more success than she’d had yesterday, and Tom showed her again, taking turns kissing each other again and again as Naomi began to get the hang of it, giggling happily after each kiss. I’ve missed this, a part of Tom was thinking, picturing himself back on Voyager with B’Elanna, kissing her, holding her close, touching her body in all the ways she liked to be touched. As Naomi leaned down to kiss him again, he pressed his lips up firmly against hers and the hand he’d had resting on her back began to unconsciously wander lower. 

Tom jerked his hand away and broke the kiss suddenly. What the hell am I doing?! he thought, mortified with himself. You’re *not* with B’Elanna! Get a grip! Naomi looked at first confused at his reaction, then worried. “Did I do something wrong?” she asked, biting her lip and looking suddenly very vulnerable.

Tom’s first instinct was to tell a reassuring lie, but then he remembered his promise that there’d be no more lies. Still, he figured that telling her that he’d been thinking of B’Elanna might not be the best idea, and decided to leave that detail out. “No, Naomi, you did nothing wrong. I got a bit carried away, is all. We need to take it slowly, remember?” he patted her head reassuringly, then removed his hands from her entirely. “You did great, but we should stop for today, okay?”

“Okay.” Naomi said, clearly not entirely convinced but still pleased with the praise. She seemed about to say something more, but decided against it and rose to her feet, looking first at the tent, the Flyer, and then all around her. Finally, she looked back at Tom. “Tom?” she asked, “What do we do next?”

Tom got up from the ground, stretched a bit, and took in a deep breath of air as he looked up at the mid-afternoon skies. “Next…” he said, “... we’re going exploring.”

Chapter 10: Discoveries

After filling their packs with food and water, Tom and Naomi set off in a northwestward direction, across the meadow and towards the treeline. As they walked, Tom occasionally raised his tricorder to scan his surroundings and then pressed a key on the PADD he was holding in his left hand.

“I’m making a map.” Tom had answered Naomi when she asked what he was doing, holding the PADD to show her the digital sketch of their surroundings that it was displaying, complete with information on topography and terrain. “Using the tricorder, I can scan a limited area around us and feed it to the PADD, then add notes. See here,” he continued, pointing at the PADD, “That’s a note I made for the berry patch we found a few minutes ago.” 

“I get it! If we’re here...” Naomi reached out and touched her finger to the screen, scrolling the map southwards until she saw the notes Tom had made around the crash site. “There’s the flyer, and there’s our camp,” she exclaimed, pleased with her own deduction. “Why didn’t we make a map like this before?” 

Tom shrugged, “Well, it’s pretty time consuming. As you can see, I have to keep stopping to scan and make notes, and until now we’ve stayed in a limited area. A map just didn’t seem to be part of our immediate concerns before.” He paused for a moment to gaze at their surroundings. “Things are different now, we have to think long-term, and part of that is knowing as much as possible about where we are. The goal for today is to make a map of the northern meadows and a bit of the surrounding forest, then we can take the southern parts tomorrow.”

Naomi didn’t immediately say anything to this, so Tom resumed walking and scanning, the treeline ahead of them growing ever closer. “Tom?” Naomi suddenly asked, her expression slightly downcast. “Do you think we’ll be here for the rest of our lives?” she bit her lip, then added. “Please tell me the truth.”

She’d asked him more or less the same question once before, and at that point Tom had said whatever he thought would make her feel better, but he’d promised her to be honest… “I honestly don’t know, Naomi.” he told her. “I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to fix the Flyer, and so far we haven’t seen any signs of people with warp technology living here, but a planet is a big place, and this is just one meadow in one forest. If we keep exploring, who knows what we might find?” 

Naomi took a moment to take all of this in. “Okay.” she finally said, appearing slightly encouraged by his words. “Maybe there’s people here, but they’re just hidden? Like the Ocampa. Maybe they can give us a ship? Or they’re like the Iconians, and can send us to Voyager in a portal like - whoosh!” She made a flailing gesture that Tom supposed was meant to indicate travelling through a warp portal, and he smiled despite himself. “Imagine how surprised everyone would be if we just stepped onto the bridge like that!”

“Well, we won’t know until we look, will we?” Tom said, stopping briefly to add another section of the meadows to the map. “For today though, we’re just going to map the meadows, not look for-” he suddenly stopped himself as a strange sound reached his ears. They had almost made it to the treeline in the northwestern edge of the meadows. The wind had picked up, and over the sound of gently rustling leaves, Tom could hear what sounded like music coming from up ahead. The sound was faint and difficult to make out, but it almost sounded like someone was playing a flute.

Tom turned to Naomi, quickly determining from her expression that she could hear it too. He put his finger to his lips to indicate that she should stay quiet, then gestured for her to follow and set off through the trees, towards the sound, while trying his best to remain quiet. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken Naomi with me, Tom thought, but sending her back now isn’t a good idea either - if there’s people around, they might already have found the camp. Besides, she’s doing a better job than me at staying quiet, he noted with a glance at her small shape following behind him.

They were definitely closing in on the source of the music, which now sounded more to Tom like several flutes playing at once, though there was something odd about it - they didn’t seem to be playing in tandem, and Tom couldn’t make out any kind of melody. It sounded more like the noises made by an enthusiastic child who’d gotten their hands on an instrument than anything else. Well, maybe this is what passes for music among the natives of the planet, he thought as he brushed aside some branches to get a better view ahead, probably best to keep any criticisms to yourself.

A couple of meters ahead, the forest opened up into a small clearing, and there, Tom finally caught sight of the source of the music. Whatever I had expected to find, this definitely wasn’t it, Tom thought as he regarded the strange sight. In the midst of the clearing, the earth had been raised into a mound, on top of which rose three sharpened wooden poles, to which a number of small tree branches had been affixed with leather straps. Hanging from these branches were long bones through which a number of holes had been drilled, and it was the wind blowing through these holes that created the strange, flute-like music.

What is this thing? It’s definitely man-made… but it looks like it’s been here a while, Tom thought to himself, noting the yellowed and weathered look of the bones and the fact that in a few places, the bindings had come loose and both branches and bone flutes had fallen to the ground. The sight of it made him uneasy, and he quickly raised his tricorder and scanned their surroundings for life-forms, mentally chiding himself for not doing so earlier.

“It’s okay - we’re alone.” he turned to Naomi, who had by now also caught sight of the strange contraption in the clearing, and looked more than a little ill at ease from the sight. “I’ll go check it out - stay here.” Naomi just nodded, for once not arguing with him, and Tom stepped out into the clearing and slowly approached the mound, scanning as he went. 

The thing on the mound appeared to be just as it looked, a crude manufacture of bones, branches and leather, all of which seemed to map genetically to the local wildlife, but when Tom directed his tricorder towards the mound itself, he had his second big surprise: Just below it, beneath a couple of meters of soil, were the decomposed remains of a humanoid. 

“It’s a grave.” Tom said, speaking out loud and then cursing himself for doing so as he heard Naomi’s sharp intake of breath behind him. Tom decided to try and reassure her, “It’s okay, Naomi, you can come out. There’s nothing dangerous here, just a dead guy.” She hesitated for a moment, then emerged into the clearing, quickly making her way to Tom and half-hiding behind him as she peered dubiously at the mound. “Is- is it an alien?” she asked, her voice a little bit shaky.

Tom was about to correct her that they were the aliens here, when he realized what the tricorder readings were showing him. The DNA profile of the humanoid bones buried in the grave were markedly different from those of the bone flutes, as well as of all earlier readings Tom had taken from the local wildlife. Different enough that it was virtually impossible for them to have originated on the same planet. The tricorder didn’t recognize the DNA, but whoever was down there would’ve towered over them in life, standing close to two and a half meters tall judging by the skeletal structure. 

“It’s an alien, alright.” Tom said, turning to Naomi. “Whoever was buried here must’ve come from another world, just like us. That means our chances of finding someone with a starship have definitely gone up,” he continued, trying to keep his tone upbeat. The fact that this starship traveller had ended up dead and buried under a creepy mound in these very woods was something he was hoping Naomi wouldn’t reflect too much over.

Naomi nodded but didn’t look too uplifted by this, glancing again at the grave. “Tom, can we go? I don’t like it here.” she said, giving him a pleading look. Tom thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. Just let me make a note on the map, okay?” He’d considered for a moment whether to dig up the grave and see if it yielded any more clues to the buried alien’s origins or how long they’d been down there, but the tricorder hadn’t shown anything but bones and besides, it just… didn’t seem right.

The two of them returned to the meadows, continuing to map the northern parts of the meadow and making brief forays into the surrounding woods for the next couple of hours before Tom announced it was time for a break and an afternoon snack. Naomi was uncharacteristically quiet during this time, and Tom could only conclude that the sight of the grave and the bones must really have spooked her. 

She took the pelon Tom offered and perched herself on a rock, eating in silence and finally speaking only when she had finished her meal. “Tom?” Naomi asked, looking at him with that same unnerved expression she’d had in the clearing earlier. “Why was that alien buried like that, below that creepy… thing?”

Throwing away the inedible core of his own pelon, Tom met Naomi’s gaze and gave her a visible shrug. “I don’t know, Naomi. It could just be their customs. Every species does things differently, maybe that particular species just likes flutes made of bone? It’s strange to us, but no stranger than how some other species back in the alpha quadrant treat their dead.”

“I guess.” Naomi said, not sounding entirely convinced, then added after a moment, her voice now a bit heated, “It was really creepy though.”  

Tom laughed and nodded. “Honestly? I thought so too. But if we run into any living ones around here, don’t say so to their face, okay? Just let me do the talking, and I’ll say something like ‘I truly appreciate how you hang bones from sharpened poles in the forest - it’s so culturally diverse!’” he said, changing his voice into his best impression of Neelix-the-ambassador.

Naomi giggled involuntarily, her expression growing a bit brighter. She stood back up and picked up her pack, “Okay, let’s finish mapping!” she said, and Tom nodded, hoisting his own pack over his shoulders and pressing on in the sweeping circle they were making back towards the camp. 

The most significant discovery of the rest of the day turned out to be quite a bit more pleasant. Several hours later, as they were surveying the woods just a short distance northeast of the campsite, they discovered another stream. Following it for a short distance, they found that it ended in a small waterfall that tumbled down into a large forest pond before disappearing into some underground spring.

“We can get all the drinking water we need here.” Tom said, after taking a sip of pond water and finding it cool, clear and clean. “It’s much closer than the stream at the old campsite.”

Naomi went down on her knees, lowering a hand into the pond and drawing it through the water, making small ripples. “We can bathe here too...” she pointed out, adding “... and shower beneath the waterfall! Let’s come back here tomorrow, when it’s warm. Please, Tom? I know you said we were going to explore more, but...” she trailed off while giving him her best puppy-eyes.

“It’s okay.” Tom said, leaning down and patting her on the head. “We can always explore another day, and besides, I need to work on the replicator too. I didn’t really expect this to take as long as it took.” He glanced up at the darkening sky. Besides, who knows what we’ll find to the south? If it’s going to be more creepy gravesites, spacing those encounters out a little won’t hurt. I don’t want to freak Naomi out more than what’s necessary.

“Yay! You’re the best, Tom!” Naomi exclaimed, leaping to her feet and throwing herself into his arms. Before he could even react, her lips had found his, kissing him briefly but passionately on the mouth with the very same technique he’d shown her earlier in the day. She sure is a quick learner , Tom thought to himself as she broke the embrace and headed off to investigate the waterfall, that kiss was definitely not very childlike. But then, whose fault is that?

Deciding against pursuing that line of thinking any further for the moment, Tom followed Naomi over to the waterfall, listening to her prattle about how they could stand under it and nodding as she pointed out the rocks they could perch on. The sun was setting, and soon they’d have to make their way back, but for the moment he was content just to see Naomi this happy and excited again. 

Thinking back to her reaction at the gravesite, he wondered once again at the mysterious alien buried there. How had they come to rest on this planet, and where was the person who buried them? He now knew for sure that the planet wasn’t completely uninhabited, but for all of his talk about burial rites, the thoughts of encountering a people who fashioned such macabre resting places unnerved him. Would they react with friendship or violence to their presence here? Should he hope to meet them, or hope for the exact opposite?

He just wasn’t sure.

Chapter 11: Beginning

With a loud electrical humming, the replicator came to life, its displays lighting up. Tom Paris held his breath - he’d gotten it started several times already in the past few days, but each time it had shut down within seconds as some part of the power grid short-circuited and he was forced back to square one. Not this time. The replicator remained online, all diagnostics showing as green, besides a small warning about available power levels.

It had been six days since their discovery of the gravesite in the forest. Over the course of those days, they’d mapped up the entire meadows and about a kilometer of the forest in each direction. They’d discovered more pelons, various kinds of edible berries, and a bizarre species of bird with two heads, but no more gravesites, or any other sign of other people for that matter.

When not exploring, Tom had worked on the replicator while Naomi did her best to stay busy. She’d organized the supplies a dozen times over, invented new things for their to-do list, and experimented with different ways to combine the few food ingredients they had available. Still, it was clear to Tom that she was getting more than a little bored, and her highpoint for each day was their visit to the forest pond, where they would wash, swim and then lay naked in the grass, talking about everything and nothing while drying off.

At night, they still shared a sleeping bag, with Naomi sleeping tightly wrapped in Tom’s arms. Most nights, she wanted to kiss and be kissed in turn, and laying there in the darkness, cocooned in the sleeping bag, her body against him and his lips pressed to hers, he could almost forget that the one in his arms was just a little girl. Almost. 

“Okay… let’s try this.” Tom said to himself as the replicator remained tantalizingly powered. “Replicator… one… no, make that two, chocolate muffins.” There was a whining sound, then the telltale shimmer of a materialization beam, and suddenly two mid-sized chocolate muffins were sitting on the replicator pad.

“YES!!!” Tom cried out, unable to quite help himself. This, of course, caused Naomi to come running and peek her head inside. “Tom, I heard-” she saw the replicator, and her eyes lit up. Then she saw the muffins, and her eyes lit up even more. “Did you- are those?!” she seemed barely able to believe her eyes.

“Told you I’d fix it, didn’t I?” Tom said, taking the muffins and giving one to her, then biting into the other. After weeks of eating only fruit, berries and survival rations, the muffin tasted wonderfully, deliciously sweet, and Tom forced himself to eat it slowly, one small bite at a time, to truly savor the moment. Naomi, on the other hand, wolfed hers down in just a few bites, with every sign of enjoying it to the fullest nonetheless.

“We have a replicator! We can replicate things now!” Naomi said, somewhat redundantly. “You’re the best, Tom! The smartest and the best and the handsomest and I-love-you!” She punctuated the last three words by throwing her arms around him and kissing his chest three times. She looked up at him with an impossibly sweet smile and asked. “Can I have another muffin?”

“I’m sorry sweetie, there’s a little bit of a catch.” Over the last few days, he’d taken to calling Naomi that - sweetie. He wasn’t sure when or why he’d started, but she seemed to like it, so he’d continued. “I got the replicator working by hooking it up to the emergency power bank, but between the crash and the short-circuits, that bank is far from fully charged anymore.”

Naomi frowned and took a step back as he hastened to continue, “We can still replicate things! There’s enough power for hundreds of uses. But once that power is out… well, it’s out. So we can’t use it too frivolously. Just for things we really need.” 

Naomi continued frowning. “Then why did you replicate muffins?” she said, her tone now accusatory. Tom shrugged, “I had to test if it worked, and that’s the first thing I could think of to replicate. Besides,” he added with a grin, “I don’t know about you, but I *really needed* that muffin.” 

This caused Naomi to giggle, and Tom continued his explanation, “Like I said, we’re not going to run out of power anytime soon, but we have to prioritize the long-term. Things like clothes, tools, and seeds for crops. That may not seem like much fun right now, but you’ll change your tune when we have things like potatoes and carrots to eat, and not just pelons. Also, aren’t you a little bit tired of sleeping in a tent? Wouldn’t a house be better?”

Naomi nodded, but looked confused. “How can the replicator help with that though? It’s not big enough to replicate a house.”

Tom laughed and shook his head. “No, not to replicate one, but all the tools I’ll need to *build* one.” He walked over to a nearby storage locker and pulled out a PADD that he’d been hiding there. “I’ve been sketching this while running diagnostics on the power systems,” he said, showing her a top-down floor plan of a small house just next to where the campsite was now. “I will build it from logs, using a miniature anti-grav sled to bring them back to camp. Look,” he pointed at the room at the back of the house and the sketches of furniture inside, “That’s our bedroom. Which bed do you want?” 

Naomi’s shared excitement over his plans was suddenly replaced with concern. “I don’t want my own bed,” she said, setting her jaw in determination. “I want to keep sleeping in the same bed you do.”

“That’s fine, sweetie, you can sleep in my bed anytime you want. I just thought you might still want your own-” Tom started but was interrupted as Naomi shook her head firmly and poked him in the chest. “Nuh-uh. I don’t *want* my own bed, and I don’t want you to have one either! I want to sleep where you do, Tom!” She paused and bit her lip, looking suddenly very vulnerable. “Unless… you don’t want me to?”

I should have realized she’d react like this , Tom thought to himself, forcing a smile and hastily moving to erase the two beds from the sketch, replacing them with a single, larger bed. “Of course I do. I just thought you’d want your own, but of course we can just have one big bed, if that’s what you want. See?” he pointed to the changes he’d made on the PADD.

Naomi nodded and looked placated. “I always want to sleep with you, Tom. I don’t have so many nightmares when I sleep next to you. I know I’m supposed to be big enough to sleep in my own bed, but…” she bit her lip again and fell silent. “Of course you can always sleep next to me, Naomi.” Tom said quickly. “Whenever you want, for as long as you want. I promised, didn’t I? That we’d always be together?”

Naomi nodded again, and Tom took that as his cue to change the topic. Looking at the replicator, he got an idea. “Tell you what...” he said, wrinkling his brow thoughtfully. “I said we can’t use the replicator too frivolously, but maybe we can use it a *little bit* frivolously.”

Naomi looked puzzled at this. “What do you mean?” she asked, and Tom walked over to the replicator, checking the energy levels again, making some quick calculations in his head. “You know how Neelix cooks up that really big dinner once a month on Voyager, and everyone gathers in the galley to eat together?” Naomi nodded, “I thought we could do something like that. Once a month, we can replicate anything we want - anything at all - to eat for dinner. Starting tonight.” he turned back to Naomi. “What do you say about that, sweetie?”

“It’s really fine?” Naomi said, staring at the replicator. “I can replicate *anything* I want? Even with dessert?” Her mind was clearly racing at the possibilities, and Tom thought he saw her mouth water just a bit. “It’s really fine,” he replied, patting her on the head. “Doing it once a month won’t stretch our energy reserves too much, and it’ll give us something to look forward to.”

Dinner that evening was a lot livelier than usual. By now, they’d gotten used to eating pelons, berries or their rapidly diminishing supply of survival rations in silence before getting back to whatever it was they had been doing before. This time, Naomi had been chatting excitedly all day, constantly changing her mind about what she wanted for dinner. 

In the end, she’d settled on pancakes with whipped cream and chocolate ice cream for dessert, while Tom had replicated a large burger with fries and a glazed donut. Both meals were ones Tom would hardly have considered exotic back on Voyager, but out here, they seemed positively extravagant. Even Naomi forced herself to eat slowly this time, and they traded food with each other, talked about plans for next month’s dinner, and devised a system for keeping track of the days.

“I’m really full.” Naomi told Tom after dinner, as she was laying on her side with her head in his lap while the skies darkened above them. “I haven’t been this full since we crashed.” She yawned. “I’m sleepy, too.”

“You can fall asleep here if you want.” Tom said as he stroked her hair, careful to avoid the ever-worsening tangles that had formed there. I’ll have to remember to replicate a comb, he thought to himself. “I’ll carry you back to the tent.”

“Kay.” Naomi said, closing her eyes. She was quiet for a moment. “Today was really good. I’m glad you fixed the replicator.” Part of the last sentence was interrupted by another yawn. “G’night, Tom. Love you.” Naomi closed her eyes, and moments later, she was fast asleep.

Tom continued to stroke her hair, staring up at the skies, where the first stars of the night were beginning to appear, as the last dying rays of sunlight faded from the horizon. “I love you too, Naomi.” Tom said quietly to himself. 

He had a strange feeling, like today had marked a shift in their lives on this planet. Away from being stranded, away from simply surviving and towards making a real home for themselves, and all of what that would entail.

It felt like a beginning.

Chapter 12: Boundaries

With one final cut, the tree toppled over, impacting on the ground with a loud crash. Pausing a moment to stretch his back and wipe the sweat from his brow, Tom switched settings on the plasma cutter and began to shear away the branches on the fallen tree, one at a time. Once done, he attached the modules of the miniature anti-grav sled to the now naked trunk and began making his way back home, pushing the hovering log ahead of him.

Even with the help of his replicated tools, building the log cabin was slow going - he’d been working for almost nine days straight and only managed to build the walls up to the height of about a meter so far. Part of him wished that he’d been a little less ambitious and gone for a smaller, single-room cabin, but what’s done was done. It’s not like I have a whole lot else to occupy my time, and it doesn’t seem to be getting colder yet. Hell, who knows if this planet even *has* seasons, he thought.

Besides the tools, he had one major thing going for him in his little construction project: experience. During his time in the penal settlement in New Zealand, he’d participated in a number of ‘voluntary rehabilitation activities’ that all inmates were encouraged to sign up for (and Tom had found marginally preferable to sitting around doing nothing all day), and one such project had just happened to be constructing a log cabin with nothing but primitive tools and local materials on hand.

Can’t believe that glorified prisoner daycare actually ended up coming in useful, Tom thought to himself as he neared the camp, habitually checking to see that Naomi was still where she was supposed to be. No matter how short the distance between the camp and the treeline where he did the logging, Tom still didn’t like leaving her alone - but he liked the idea of having her around active plasma tools and falling trees even less.

Naomi was indeed in the same spot she’d been in when he left a little earlier - perched on a large rock with a PADD in her hands and a look of intense concentration on her face. After getting the replicator back up and running, one of the first things Tom had made for them was a veritable library of reading materials. In addition to immediately useful literature such as survival guides and technical manuals for their field gear, he’d also replicated several PADDs loaded with every school book stored in the replicator’s memory banks (hundreds of them in all, going all the way up to intro university level) and set out a very rough schedule for Naomi to follow.

Just because we’re stuck on this planet doesn’t mean she shouldn’t get a proper education, he thought. Besides, it keeps her busy. In fact, Naomi had thrown herself into her studies with nothing less than wholehearted enthusiasm. Every evening, he would quiz her about her progress and she would bombard him with questions and observations on topics such as math, history and basic physics.

With construction taking up most of his time, he’d also enlisted Naomi’s help in another project: a vegetable garden. Using replicated seeds, he’d planted a variety of crops both from Earth and other planets on a patch of flattened land near the Flyer, and assigned Naomi responsibility for watering and weeding the garden every morning. So far, just about everything they’d planted seemed to be thriving (even the notoriously sensitive Bolian lettuce that he’d sown on a whim), and a number of small green sprouts had already emerged from the soil.

As Tom set the tree trunk down on the ground and began to carve out the notches that would fit it into the rest of the logs, Naomi hopped down from her rock and wandered over, stopping a few meters off (as he’d told her to do whenever he was working with dangerous tools) and looking at him with a mischievous grin on her face. Tom switched off the plasma cutter and rose up, returning her gaze and raising an eyebrow quizzically. “What is it, sweetie? Do you need help with your studies?” he asked.

Naomi shook her head, “No, not really. I just read something that I thought was interesting.” She wandered over to Tom, holding up the PADD just low enough that he had to lean forward to read it, that same grin playing across her features. “I’m reading about old Earth history, about the middle ages. Did you know that back then, some girls got married when they were only ten years old? When I turned three, I asked mom how old that made me in human years and she said it was about ten. So if we were living in the middle ages, you could already have married me if you wanted!” After saying the last bit, Naomi stood on her toes and quickly kissed him on the cheek before running away giggling, leaving a speechless Tom in her wake.  

As she ran off, Tom sighed inwardly. He knew she was teasing him, testing boundaries… she’d been doing that a lot lately. It was partly his own fault, giving her access to academic reading materials that were often meant for someone well above her age, but what had been in the replicator hadn’t been neatly organized by class years and he didn’t have time to go through it all, resulting in a number of awkward conversations about one or another ‘interesting thing’ that Naomi had read. 

This one comment, though, had unsettled him more than most, as it reminded him of the fact that while biologically and developmentally she was equivalent to a human ten-year-old, the girl he held in his arms and kissed at night had been born only a little more than three years ago. Then again, Kes was what, two years old when she got on Voyager and you *definitely* found *her* attractive, Tom thought. That’s different, Kes was a grown woman, he mentally replied to himself. Well, one day Naomi will be too, came the response. He lacked a further self-retort to that, and went back to building the cabin, trying to think about anything that didn’t have to do with relative species maturation cycles.

That same evening, after the suns had set and the alien stars of an alien world had appeared in the night sky, the two of them were getting ready for bed. Tom’s muscles were aching not just from the day’s efforts, but from the accumulated strain of ten days of fairly intense physical labor, and he was looking forward to giving his body some well-deserved rest. First though, as had become part of their evening ritual since Tom got the replicator back online, he took out a hairbrush and began to brush Naomi’s long, brown hair. 

It had been something of a minor trauma the first time, undoing several weeks’ accumulated tangles while Naomi twitched and cried, but since then she seemed to enjoy it, usually chatting away about some thought or another while he brushed. Tonight, she was quiet and seemed a little tense. He was just about to ask her if there was something on her mind when she finally spoke. “Tom, when do we get a weekend?”

The question caught Tom by complete surprise, and he stopped brushing. “What do you mean, Naomi?” he asked.

“Well…” she said, hesitating a bit before continuing. “Back on Voyager, I’d go to school five days a week, and then there’d be the weekend, when I could do whatever I wanted for two days. Mostly, anyway.” Naomi paused for a bit again. “It’s not that I don’t like studying, I do! It’s just that… it gets a little boring *just* studying, and you’re always working too, so can’t we have a weekend sometime soon?”

“Sweetie, I told you that you don’t have to study *all* the time,” Tom said, returning the brush to her hair and resuming where he left off. “That’s why I replicated all those novels for you too, and the PADDs with games. If you get bored with studying, it’s okay to take a break.”

“I know that!” Naomi said, her voice slightly agitated, “I do take breaks, it’s just that…” she hesitated again. “I like school, and I like reading, and I like games, but I’m always having to do all of them by myself because you’re always working on the cabin. I know it’s really important, and I know I shouldn’t bother you when you work, but…” she bit her lip and fell silent, lowering her gaze.  

So that’s it, Tom thought. She’s feeling neglected. That must be why she’s been acting up lately. I should have realized sooner, but I was so intent on getting the cabin done as quickly as possible. Honestly, I could use a break too, Tom thought, feeling his muscles protest with every motion of the brush. 

“You know what, Naomi Wildman? You’re absolutely right.” Tom said, finishing up with her hair and putting the brush away again.

“I’m sorry, Tom, I-” Naomi blinked and caught herself, evidently not expecting that response from him. “I am?”

“You are.” Tom affirmed, patting her on the head. “It’s important to work and study, but it’s also important to take a break sometimes. I don’t think we can take a whole weekend, but how about we take tomorrow off? We can go exploring, or swimming, or… whatever you want, really.”

Naomi spun around, looking directly at Tom, her expression one of not quite believing what she was hearing. “You promise? We can do whatever I want?” 

Tom nodded. “I promise. Whatever you want… Well, so long as it isn’t dangerous, that is.” He paused a moment to count the days that had passed in his head before continuing, “We have worked for nine days so far, so let’s say that every tenth day is a weekend, starting tomorrow. On work days, we work and study and I call the shots, but on weekends, *you* get to decide how we spend the day. What do you say about that?”

Naomi’s features lit up in a brilliant smile as she threw her arms around Tom and hugged him tightly. “You’re the best, Tom! I want to go swimming, and go back to that place where we saw the weird birds, and oh can we replicate fishing rods? I fished on the holodeck once, but…” Tom nodded, listening and occasionally replying to her myriad of ideas and requests while smiling inwardly at her pure, innocent joy. 

Some time later, Tom was lying in the sleeping bag, listening to Naomi’s calm, steady breathing as she slept. She just needs you to be there for her, Tom , he told himself. She’s your responsibility now, the one responsibility in your sorry life you absolutely can’t neglect or walk away from.

As he closed his eyes, Tom resolved to do whatever he could to make the ‘weekend’ as fun for Naomi as it possibly could be, and to keep his promise to her, to do whatever she wanted to do. 

Anything to make her happy.

Anything to make sure that she never stopped smiling.

Chapter 13: Awakening

“I can’t believe we actually got married, after everything that’s happened.” 

Tom Paris smiled happily as he spoke, reaching down to caress the back of the woman that was sharing his... or rather, *their* bed. B’Elanna Torres, reclining on her side to his right, smiled, saying nothing but giving him an intense, lustful look that told him everything he needed to know about her thoughts.

They were laying naked together in bed on this night, their wedding night, having just bid farewell to the celebrations. The wedding seemed to have happened so fast that Tom could barely remember the ceremony that had just taken place, or even who had officiated. Honestly though, the only thing that really mattered to him right now was that he was back on Voyager, back with B’Elanna. Everything was back to normal. Better than normal.

He leaned in towards B’Elanna, locking lips with her and kissing her fiercely. As they kissed, she wrapped her arms around him, digging her nails into his back, a soft growl coming from her throat as she did so. He felt himself become hard as his arousal rose. He reached down between her legs, his fingers just about to begin exploring her when she broke the kiss and gave him a reproaching look.

“What is it?” Tom said with a frown on his face, worried that he’d done something wrong. “Was I going too fast?”

B’Elanna laughed, “No! Of course you weren’t, dummy. But don’t you think there’s someone you’re neglecting right now?” Tom gave her a confused look, not at all understanding what she was trying to say. B’Elanna raised her hand to point behind him and Tom rolled onto his back, turning his head to the left to see where she was pointing. 

To his left was Naomi Wildman. She was laying on her side, facing him, a smile on her face. She was just as naked as him and B’Elanna, and the look she was giving him was no less intense… and no less lustful than the one B’Elanna had given him moments earlier. Naomi reached for him, placing her small hand on his bare chest.

“What is Naomi doing here?” Tom asked, bewildered. Naomi’s smile just widened and B’Elanna laughed again. “Well, you married her too, didn’t you? It wouldn’t exactly be fair if she got left out of her own wedding night, would it?” She moved one of her own hands to rest on his chest next to Naomi’s.

This didn’t seem right to Tom. He wanted to get out of the bed, try to figure out what was going on, but somehow his body wouldn’t respond. He tried to think back once again to the wedding ceremony, but he couldn’t quite remember. Then he tried to remember how he’d returned to Voyager, but he couldn’t recall that either.

“Lie back, Tom. We’ll take care of you, so just relax.” B’Elanna said, as their hands began to travel down his body, going lower and lower. “Don’t-” Tom began, but his words became muffled as B’Elanna returned her mouth to his, kissing him ferociously. His body still refused to respond to his commands.

As the duo of hands reached their intended destination, Tom realized that he was still hard. He felt the familiar sensation of B’Elanna’s fingers wrapped around his length, and then, a second set of fingers. Unfamiliar fingers, smaller and more slender than B’Elanna’s. Both sets of fingers began to stroke him, even as B’Elanna’s tongue continued to invade his mouth and silence his protests. His head was full of turmoil, but his treacherous body, instead of shrinking from what was happening, responded to the touches, growing larger and harder.

He felt Naomi shift in the bed, and both sets of fingers let go of him. Then he felt another, wetter sensation in their place, and finally managed to pull himself out of his paralysis. Breaking the kiss with B’Elanna and pushing her aside, he raised his head to look down the length of his body just in time to see Naomi’s lips slide down his shaft as the girl took him into her mouth.

Naomi Wildman is giving me a blowjob, was Tom’s first thought.

I’m married to Naomi now, was his second thought.

I should probably wake up, was the third and final thought.

Tom opened his eyes, suddenly wide awake.

He immediately became aware of a few things. First, the sleeping form of Naomi, lying on her back to his left. Her face was peaceful, the pale fabric of the replicated sleeping gown she was wearing rising and falling with each breath she took. Second, his own general stage of agitation and excitement. Third, the large, painfully stiff bulge displacing the fabric of the cloth between his legs.

Tom closed his eyes again, taking deep breaths and willing himself to calm down. This wasn’t the first time in the last few weeks that he’d woken up in the middle of the night in a state of arousal, or had a dream like that about B’Elanna.  

It was the first time Naomi had featured in one, though.

It’s a good thing she’s a sound sleeper, Tom thought. He began to relax a little, the stiffness in his pants abating, but the images of the dream remained, as sharp and clear as if they were real memories. He knew it had just been a dream, but there was one part about it that truly disturbed him, that kept him from going back to sleep for the rest of that night.

In the dream, when he’d regained control of his body and seen what Naomi was doing, felt what Naomi was doing… he’d enjoyed it.

Well and truly enjoyed it.

Chapter 14: Weekend

“Tom, are you even listening to me?” Naomi’s voice had a hint of irritation in it, and she was visibly pouting.

Tom looked up from his food, blinked, and tried to gather his sleepy thoughts. “I’m listening, sorry. You asked me if I thought we should go climbing first and then go swimming, or the other way around.”

“Well?” Naomi said, slightly mollified but expectant.

“I think… It makes the most sense to go climbing first.” Tom said, “Even with the anti-grav harnesses, we’re sure to work up a sweat. What about catching bugs, though?”

The pout returned to Naomi’s face. “You weren’t listening at all! I told you that we’ll go bug-catching next weekend. Today I want to go climbing, go swimming,” she held up two fingers, then raised a third, the pout disappearing again as the excitement made her forget her anger, “I also want to go looking for those yellow bunny-things. Oh, and give them a name!”. She paused for a moment, before raising a fourth finger, “There’s one more thing.” 

“One more thing?” Tom said, stifling a yawn. I really could use some coffee right about now, he thought a bit miserably. If only our replicator usage wasn’t so limited. I should at least replicate some seeds.

“Mm-hmm.” Naomi said, with a mischievous little grin. “It’s a secret though. I’ll tell you later!”

Tom decided not to press her on the topic. I did promise her we’d do anything she wanted, so long as it wasn’t dangerous, he thought. “It’s the weekend, so you’re the boss,” he said, holding up his hands. “As long as it’s not dangerous, and it doesn’t keep us out after dark.”

“It’s not, and it won’t. You’ll see.” Naomi said, finishing her breakfast and rising to her feet. Among the clothes he’d replicated for her, today she’d chosen a short-sleeved green dress that went down just below her knees, and which she had specifically requested he make for her. “That’s the dress you asked me to make. I haven’t seen you wear it before. Why not?” Tom asked her.

“I was saving it...” Naomi said, glancing down at herself, “... because you said I look pretty in green, remember?” Tom didn’t remember, but decided it was better to say nothing as she continued, “I wanted to wear it on a special day, and today is a special day, because it’s the weekend!” 

She acts like we’re going on a date, Tom thought, then remembered the numerous occasions they’d kissed, and his own declaration of intent to be her boyfriend. I suppose she’s not really wrong. He decided to try a little more flattery to smooth over his earlier forgetfulness, “You look pretty in anything, sweetie… but especially pretty in green.”

Naomi took the flattery with a happy smile and twirled around to show him the dress again. “I’m going to pack my things!” she declared, flitting away towards the tent and leaving the drowsy Tom alone with his unfinished breakfast. 

After downing his meal and splashing some cold water on his face, Tom felt a bit more awake. He packed away about a day’s worth of food and water along with the essential survival tools already stowed in his pack - they weren’t planning on going far, but with so much about the planet still unknown, Tom still preferred to exercise caution.

Their first objective was the ‘yellow bunny-things’, which is what Naomi called a small mammal species with long ears, yellow fur and protruding snouts that they had spotted near some burrows at the south end of the meadows. Naomi thought they probably made their home in those burrows, but she wanted to confirm it, and also for them to give a name to the species - naming the Pelons had apparently been the start of a naming craze for the girl, which came with a set of rules attached: they could only name something once they’d figured out both what it ate and how it made its home. “Otherwise, it won’t be a good name.” Naomi had insisted, and Tom didn’t really see a reason to argue with her.  

So, operating under Naomi’s decree, they trekked to the southern end of the meadows, sat themselves in the shade of a tree on a small hill with a good view of the burrows - and waited. It was another beautiful day, the twin suns shining down from a clear blue sky, and the warmth and the wait made Tom drowsy again. He took out his water flask, and was just about to take a swig when Naomi pointed and said, with hushed excitement, “Tom! Look!”

Looking over towards where she was pointing, Tom saw several furry, yellow shapes emerge from one of the burrows they’d been keeping their eyes on. The first animal to emerge was larger, about the size of a small dog, and was followed by two smaller ones with shorter ears and more delicate snouts. The larger animal stood on its hind legs, folding out its long, fluffy ears and sniffing the air with its snout, clearly watching for threats.

“It’s a mother and babies!” Naomi said, her sentence punctuated by a little squeal. “They’re *so cute*, aren’t they, Tom?” She scrunched her face in thought, “We know where they live, so now we can name them… I want to call them Sun Bunnies! Because they’re yellow, and look like bunnies, and because it’s nearly always sunny here and…” She turned to Tom, suddenly looking a bit unsure of herself. “Do you think it’s a stupid name?”

“I think it’s a great name.” Tom said, patting her on the head encouragingly as the trio of Sun Bunnies headed off into the meadows, stopping occasionally to chew on the grass and flowers. “Easy to remember, just like the Pelons.” Naomi beamed at the praise and then declared that it was time to go rock climbing.

About an hour later, they’d arrived at the climbing spot - a sheer hillside some distance to the south, above which rose a rocky ridge which extended for at least several kilometers to the east and west. When they’d been mapping their surroundings, this is where they’d given up on exploring any further to the south, but Naomi, who was quite fond of the climbing exercise programs in Voyager’s holodeck, had remarked that the ridge didn’t look very difficult to climb. 

At the time, Tom had said no due to the danger of a fall, but with anti-grav harnesses part of the standard survival gear that Tom had replicated, there’d be no real danger involved and, as Naomi had pointed out, it might give them a better view of their surroundings.

After fastening, double-checking and triple-checking Naomi’s harness, Tom gave the by now complaining Naomi permission to climb. She was off almost immediately, finding spots to grab and stand on in the uneven rock with easy, practiced motions. Tom, whose infrequent use of the available exercise activities on Voyager had been the subject of more than one discussion with Chakotay, followed in her wake slowly and with uncertainty, fumbling to find his footing and having to be saved from taking a fall by the harness more than once, but making steady progress nonetheless. I’ll give this planet one thing - this is probably the best shape I’ve been in all my life, he thought.

Tom heard Naomi’s voice from above. “I’ve reached the top!” she said, then peered over the edge, spotted him and giggled. “Tom, you’re not even halfway.” Tom grunted and tested a mossy rock outcropping for his next handhold. “I’m coming - at my own pace.” he replied, which elicited another giggle from Naomi. “You can see pretty far from here.” she said, then fell silent for a moment. “Oh, wow… Tom… come up and see this!” Her voice was full of excitement, and Tom picked up the pace, wanting to find out what it was she’d spotted. Reaching the top, he pulled himself up onto a patch of grass and raised his head to look around him.

The craggy top of the ridge offered a largely unobstructed view of the landscape in all directions. To the east and west, he could see nothing but forest. To the south, the elevation of the landscape continued to rise and Tom could see the distant silhouette of what he thought was mountains. It was to the north that Naomi was gazing, and where he saw what had excited her: The ocean. Or rather, an ocean.

Less than a day’s walk from their camp, deep blue waters stretched out for as far the eye could see. He could see long, sandy shores and a dotting of small islands off the coast, little green splashes in the blue vastness. “It’s the sea, Tom!” Naomi said, clearly excited. “It’s so beautiful! I want to go there - can we go there?” She turned towards him, a pleading look in her eyes.

Tom thought for a moment and then shook his head. “It’s too far of a walk for just a day trip, sweetie. We’d have to bring camping gear and plan to stay the night. I’ll tell you what, though…” he continued, “... we can go there next weekend if you want. I’m even willing to make it a two-day weekend if…” Naomi widened her eyes, clearly hanging on his every word now, “... *if* you’ve gotten through the first five chapters of your chemistry book by then, *and* the written test.”

“Ugh!” Naomi declared, excitement quickly replaced with consternation. “But Chemistry is *boring*! It’s all about which electron combines with what proton and stuff like that. It’s not like that stuff is even going to come in useful, ever. Can’t I study something more fun instead, like math?” Seeing the look on Tom’s face, she sighed dramatically and acquiesced, “... *fine*. I’ll learn about all your stupid protons before next weekend, and then we’ll go to the ocean.”

Tom smiled and patted her on the head. He’d decided not to mention it to Naomi for now, but there was something he’d seen - or rather, something he’d *not* seen - that stood out in his mind far more than the discovery of the nearby ocean: the lack of even the slightest hint of civilization in any direction. No buildings, no roads, no ships, not even a wisp of smoke from a cooking fire. Nothing. I guess we really are alone, at least on this part of the planet. I don’t think Naomi’s realized, but I’ll tell her later. I don’t want to mess up this day with a talk like that, he thought to himself.

They explored the ridge for some time, with Naomi finding several more occasions to show off her climbing prowess and Tom mostly opting out, waiting for her at the foot of some large rock or another as she scurried monkey-like up and down it. Some distance to the west, they found a place where a rockslide had created something of a natural ramp, and used it to make their way back down to the forest. By now, it was getting on in the day, and they paused to eat a quick lunch before pressing on to their next objective: a nearby lake which they had thus far not taken a swim in, a state of things that Naomi clearly found unacceptable.

The lake had formed at a slightly lower elevation from the forest around it, in what looked to Tom like an ancient impact crater. It was the largest body of water they’d come across so far, unless you counted the ocean they’d so recently discovered, of course. This elevation, combined with the depth of the crater, meant that there were a large number of promising jumping spots which had featured prominently in the reasons Naomi had listed for choosing this as their third and final destination of the day. 

That’s right, she said that there was something more that she wanted to do today, something secret, Tom mused to himself as they approached the lake. Well, I guess I’ll find out when I find out. Assuming she hasn’t forgotten.

They stopped to remove their packs in a small clearing overlooking the lake, and Naomi, grinning with anticipation, immediately pulled her dress over her head and dropped it onto the ground, her underwear following mere seconds later. Tom had suggested replicating swimming clothes at one point, but Naomi had shot down the idea, calling it a waste of energy. He hadn't thought of a good argument, and the worst of it was that she wasn’t exactly wrong. For a moment, Tom’s mind returned to the dream he’d been having last night, but he forced such thoughts away and began to remove his own clothes. Naomi started to make her way down to the lake, shrieking happily as she ran splashing into the dark, cool waters.

It was much, much later that they were back on the grass, and Tom was by now thoroughly exhausted. It had seemed as though Naomi would *never* tire of jumping from the rocks at the edge of the lake, and she’d *insisted* that he’d participate - or at an absolute minimum watch from the water - each and every time. In the end, he’d had to cajole her out of the water by pointing out that she was visibly shivering and that her lips had turned blue. They were now sitting wrapped in their fluffy white replicated towels, drying off in the warm sun. 

Tom glanced over at Naomi and saw that she was looking his way with an odd expression on her face. He was just about to ask her what she was thinking about, when she stood up and crossed the short distance between them. “Tom?” she asked, that same expression still on her features, and suddenly let her towel drop to the ground, standing naked before him. “Do you think I’m pretty… like this, too?” She looked down at her own body, then back up towards him, expectantly.

Tom felt his mouth become dry. When he’d told her that she was pretty, he’d never lied. She *was* pretty - a pretty girl, a pretty *child*. But asked like this, the question took on a completely different meaning. He found himself looking her over without really meaning to. He’d seen her naked dozens of times by now, but once again, the context made it different. Even so, he couldn’t help but notice that even in just the one month they’d spent here, she’d changed. 

He’d already taken note of just how fast she was growing - at least three centimeters in the one short month they’d been here - but what he was only realizing now was the other ways her body had changed as well. There were the faintest hints of curves that he was sure hadn’t been there a month ago, and two tiny bumps protruding from her chest that he was equally positive were quite new.

The changes were subtle, easy to miss. Perhaps I didn’t want to see them… or perhaps I’ve just gotten so used to seeing her naked that I don’t even think about it anymore, Tom thought. I don’t know which is more messed up. Naomi’s expression changed slightly. She’s waiting for an answer, Tom. Forcing a smile to his face, Tom rose slightly from where he was sitting and kissed Naomi gently on the forehead. “I told you once, I’ll tell you again, and as many times as I need to. Naomi Wildman, you’re the prettiest girl on this whole planet, of my whole world.” Tom said as he withdrew his lips from her skin.

Naomi’s expression lit up into a happy grin, and she suddenly leapt forward, knocking him onto his back so that he landed in the grass with a less than graceful thud. Now partially on top of him, Naomi's lips found his, and she kissed him enthusiastically, almost hungrily. Taken by surprise and not sure what to do, Tom just kissed her back, as B’Elanna’s words from the dream echoed in his mind. Lie back, Tom. Just relax. Naomi’s warm skin against his skin. The soft grass under his back. Her lips pressed eagerly to his own.

Naomi abruptly broke the kiss, propping herself up by her elbows on his chest, looking down at Tom, her lower body resting in the grass. For a moment, time seemed to freeze as they lay there, staring into each other’s eyes, and then she spoke. “Tom… I said that I wanted to do one more thing for the weekend... and you said that we’d do anything I wanted, as long as it wasn’t dangerous." She took a deep breath, seemingly gathering courage. "What I want is…” With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Tom knew what the next words out of her mouth would be before she’d even said them. 

“I want you to make me feel good again, Tom.” Naomi said. “I want us to have sex.”

Chapter 15: Lies

Notes:

"Many years later..."

I didn't really imagine it'd take me this long to get back to writing, but life comes at you fast. I'm back now though, and this time I am going to finish this fic, for whoever's still around to read it. Not to mention for myself. Another chapter should be coming later in the week or early next week (for real and not as another prelude to a multi-year disappearance...).

“I want us to have sex.”

Time seemed to slow as the words, uttered so plainly by a voice far too young to have any business speaking them, reached Tom’s ears. Ludicrously, incongruously, his mind chose to focus on Naomi’s wording. Every time she’d brought it up before, she’d called it “doing sex”, a childish misphrasing that Tom had seen no reason to correct. Her sudden and correct turn of phrase felt like a symbol of everything that had changed in her over the last month.

Changed in “her”, Tom? Only in her? A voice whispered at the back of his mind. You don’t think “you’ve” changed at all? You don’t think anything that’s happened has affected you at all, do you? You think you’re still the same Tom Paris that crash-landed on this planet? If that’s the case, then why is it that you now have to work so very, very hard to distract your own mind away from the naked little girl that’s quite literally throwing herself on you?

The inner voice of his self-loathing had been quiet for so long, Tom had almost forgotten it was there. Now it struck with the force of a warp core detonation, shattering the walls of denial and self-delusion he’d so carefully built up in his mind. 

He thought of the times they’d snuggled close at night, arms wrapped around each other, his lips pressed softly to hers. How there, in the warmth and the dark, he’d felt himself begin to *stir*. How he’d forced himself down through revulsion at first, and later (when revulsion simply would not come) detachment. How he’d rationalized it, telling himself he was thinking of B’Elanna. Telling himself he must not forget who he was with, that this wasn’t really him.

He thought of the undeniably sexual way in which she’d shown herself to him just moments ago. He’d known she was trying to elicit a reaction, trying to get him to act. He’d sought refuge in detachment, analysis. He hadn’t acted on her implicit offer, but he hadn’t dissuaded her either. If anything, he’d encouraged her with his compliments.

He thought of last night’s dream, how relieved he had been that Naomi had not been awake to see him in his aroused state after he awoke. How disappointed he had been that Naomi had not been awake to see him in his aroused state. How thoroughly he had crushed and buried that feeling in the pits of his self-deception, so thoroughly he'd no longer really been aware it was there. Until now. What might she have done if she’d been awake? What might he have just let happen?

But that's what you want, isn’t it, Tom? The voice mocked, laughing at him inside his own head. Deniability, a lack of culpability! Encourage her just enough so that you never have to make the decision to cross that final boundary. It just happened, it couldn’t be avoided! Tom Paris is never responsible for his own failings, things… just happen to him. And when it inevitably happens, you can always blame Naomi! It’s she who wants it, not you, yes? You’d just be doing it for *her* sake, isn’t that right?

Only, that wasn’t entirely correct. Tom Paris had changed too. That fateful rainy evening, he’d told Naomi that he loved her, and he did. He loved her with all his heart and all his soul, with the earnest totality that came from his absolute need for her. Without her, his life no longer had even the slightest bit of meaning. He knew that without her he would simply have laid down somewhere and never gotten up again after that final message from Voyager. 

Somehow, he knew just as unequivocally that her love for him was no longer just a girlish crush, that her need for him was just as great as his need for her. Her desire for sex is not just about curiosity or pleasure anymore, he realized. She desperately needs me to love her because that’s the only thing she has to hold on to, and to her, my rejection of it is a rejection of love. A rejection of her.

Compared to this all-consuming maelstrom of mutual need, his love for B’Elanna seemed no more than a passing fling in retrospect.

Tom Paris realized that the lies he’d once told Naomi, the lies that had hurt her so deeply, were nothing compared to the lies he’d been telling himself. Trembling inside his mind, he forced himself to picture the very images he’d tried so hard to shut out. Kissing, and being kissed. Touching, and being touched. Laying her down in the grass, and… he felt his body respond, grow warm. *Stir*. He let out a soundless whimper of anguish.

God help him, he wanted her. All of her, in every way it was possible to want, to desire.

He needed her to be his. 

He needed to be hers.

He needed it so much, the lack of it was like a gaping abyss at the very core of his being.

He’d been silent for a long time, and he could see a slow change in Naomi’s expression, from determined want towards wounded rejection. He raised his hand to her cheek, stroked her softly, gazed straight into her large brown eyes, so simultaneously full of longing and vulnerability. “Okay.” The word seemed to *wrench* itself free of his very soul. He felt sick, he felt elated. He felt utterly disgusted with himself, he felt relieved beyond belief. He felt as if the old Tom Paris had just died, and from his remains a new, warped Tom Paris had emerged, like a transporter duplicate arriving in place of the original.

Naomi blinked. Whatever she’d expected him to say, it clearly hadn’t been that. “O-okay?” she said, tremulous, uncertain.

“Okay.” The tone of his repeated utterance was somehow calm despite the utter chaos in his mind. He leaned up and placed a soft kiss on her forehead ridge. “I love you, Naomi,” he said, “I love you, and I want to… to make love to you. But not here, not now. Not like this.”

A flash of anger cracked in Naomi’s eyes and she jerked back from his touch. “Then WHE-” she began heatedly, but he pressed a finger to her lips, shushing her, and to his amazement she fell silent. “Soon,” he said. “I know you don’t understand, but it has to be me that… makes the decision. That takes responsibility. Not you, Naomi. I can’t put this on you. It simply isn’t fair to put this all on you.”

Naomi’s tone softened from anger to annoyance. “No, I *don’t* understand, Tom. But…” she lifted her fingers to where his hand had rested on her face just moments ago, and her voice became more muted. “Actually soon? Not like ‘oh-yeah-in-a-month-or-so’ soon? You mean it? You *really* mean it, Tom?” 

Tom took a steadying breath. “I promise, Naomi.” he said. “We’re still going to take things one at a time, but—” He'd been about to say ‘You’re ready’, but corrected it to, “I’m ready. And I’m done lying to myself.”

By the bewildered look on her face it was clear Naomi had at least a dozen questions, but she didn’t give voice to any of them, perhaps afraid he might change his mind. He pulled himself up from the grass and sat upright, giving her a gentle smile. “I told you I’d be your boyfriend, and I will. So tonight, Naomi Wildman, we’re going to have ourselves a date. Like boyfriends and girlfriends do. Like lovers do.”

At these words, all confusion and upset left Naomi and she flashed him a smile so wide and innocent and happy that it hurt him to see it. She paused only long enough to give him a quick hug before running off to get dressed and start gathering up her things.

I’m damned now, thought Tom as he too put on his clothes. Well and truly damned.

You were always damned, that incessant self-loathing voice corrected. That’s the fate of the weak-willed, to damn themselves in their weakness.

You can still back out of this, argued the part of him he’d always thought of as the voice of reason. You can think of a way to explain it so she’ll understand. She’ll get over it eventually. This isn’t you, Tom! This isn’t what you want to do!

He ached to heed that voice of reason, to let it continue to guide his actions. He wanted ever so badly for its words to be true.

But he now knew it to offer nothing but lies.

Chapter 16: Home

Tom cast a glance at his watch, finding it to show mid-afternoon. The local day and night cycle was just shy of twenty-eight standard hours, with the day substantially longer than the night on account of the twin suns rising and setting a few hours apart. The planet’s orbital cycle appeared remarkably stable for a celestial body in a binary star system, another oddity to add to its long list of oddities. 

“Tom?” Naomi’s voice was slightly muffled by her dress, which she was in the process of pulling down over her head. She paused for a moment to tug it properly into place and shake her hair out before continuing. “Don’t you think this planet is weird?”

Tom blinked at the unexpected question. What, she can read minds now? he thought, but said instead, “What do you mean, sweetie?” As he spoke, he too began to redress, putting his underwear back on and trying not to notice the press of a slight lingering stiffness against synthetic fabric.

“Well, I’ve been reading a book about M-class planets,” Naomi mused, completing the adjustments to her outfit and perching herself on a nearby rock while she waited for him to finish dressing. “Professor T’Pau…” She pronounced the name with an exaggerated emphasis clearly meant to lend importance to her own words, “She’s an expert on M-class planets, and she writes that while breathable nitrogen/oxygen atmospheres are not uncommon, no two planets have the exact same mix, and that a period of discomfort and acc- acc-lim-a-tat-tion…” she shot a hesitant look at Tom and he nodded to indicate she’d gotten the pronunciation right.

Looking pleased, Naomi continued. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that you’re supposed to feel kinda yucky for a while until you get used to the air, right? But it’s never felt like that here, the air feels just like the air on Voyager, which is weird, right?” Again she looked questioningly at Tom and he indicated for her to continue, sensing there was more. “And um, when we first found the pelons, you thought it was weird how we could just eat them without problems, and there was the creepy alien grave and…” 

Trailing off, Naomi suddenly looked unsure of herself. “Do you think I’m being silly?”  

Tom, who had just finished dressing himself, walked over to Naomi and gave her a light peck on the top of the head followed by a reassuring smile. “I think you’re a very smart girl, Naomi Wildman.” Much too smart for your own good at times. “You’re entirely right, of course. This *is* a very weird planet, in more ways than you realize. Remember how I mentioned the lack of biting bugs? That’s a bit odd, and what’s even odder is how we’ve seen a lot of small, friendly animals that should have bigger, less friendly animals that eat them and yet we’ve seen none of those.” 

He could tell Naomi wasn’t quite following his logic and he paused to puzzle out how to best explain it to her. “You remember learning about evolution in school, right?” At this, Naomi’s expression brightened and she nodded eagerly, “Yeah! The fittest animals survive and um, species evolve to fill a niche, right?” She pronounced niche as nish, but Tom decided not to correct her. “Exactly so, sweetie. And yet, in all the time this planet has been here, it seems like no species in this immediate area has evolved to fit any niches which could not be characterized as ‘entirely harmless’. I’m not exactly complaining, but unless we had incredible luck with our crashlanding… it’s just rather unlikely, is all.” 

Naomi hopped to her feet and furrowed her brow, clearly pondering Tom’s words. “I once heard Captain Janeway say to Chakotay that if something seems too good to be true, then it probably isn’t and someone is trying to um, ‘pull one over on you’?” A sudden thought seemed to hit her, and she continued excitedly, “Do you think someone is trying to pull one over on us, Tom? Do you think this could be like a holodeck simulation, or Q playing a trick, and we’re actually still on Voyager?”

As Naomi’s gaze filled with suddenly renewed hope, Tom forced himself to meet it. I promised her the truth, and at this point it would be more cruel of me to get her hopes up again. 

“I don’t think so, sweetie.” It shredded Tom’s innards to see the spark of hope in her eyes flicker and die. Her questions were ones he’d asked himself numerous times over the last few weeks and every time he’d landed on the same answers. “If there’s some alien advanced enough to grab us and stick us in a simulation without us ever noticing, I don’t see what they would get out of it, or why they wouldn’t have abducted the rest of Voyager’s crew while they were at it. Of course I can’t be sure, but there’s just no evidence to indicate that all of this isn’t real, no matter how weird it is.” 

As for Q, Tom considered to himself, I don’t think even that… being… is depraved enough to let things go this far before ending the joke.

“Oh.” Naomi’s voice went small. Tom thought she was about to say more, but instead she just wrapped her slender arms tightly around his much larger frame, burrowing her face into his chest. He held her like that for a while, stroking her hair while she cried against him silently. 

When no more tears would come, Naomi looked at Tom with an expression that betrayed a jumbled mess of emotions: Fear, love, sorrow, but most of all an earnest trust so utter and complete that it made him feel disgustingly undeserving. I’m not worth trusting, Naomi, Tom thought. Look where trusting me has gotten us. Aloud he said, “Everything will be okay, sweetie. I love you, and I’ll always be here for you.”

Naomi nodded weakly and wiped her eyes dry with the back of her hand. “Can we go home now?”

By the time they emerged into the clearing that housed the crashed flyer and their camp, the primary sun had mostly set. Afternoon was turning to early evening as the bright yellow light of the primary faded and the softer glow of its smaller sibling bathed the landscape in a warm orange hue. A light wind had blown in from the north, cajoling gentle rustles from the surrounding trees, and the repeated, insistent calling of a large bird could be heard nearby.

Over the course of their walk, Naomi seemed to pull out of her dark mood, gradually returning to her usual chatty self. She was now offering commentary on the nature and intent of the noisy bird. “It kind of sounds like an owl, doesn’t it? Tom? Only… it’s like the owl’s got something stuck up its throat. Do you think it’s trying to find a mate? It’s got to be a *really* weird kind of bird that thinks, ‘Oh, what I really want in a mate is someone who’s good at sounding like a choking owl!’” She giggled, gave Tom a cheeky glance, then tried to imitate the bird’s call only to collapse back into giggles.

And just like that, she’s a regular kid again. She’s one tough little girl, Tom thought in amazement. For one short moment, he allowed himself to linger in happy thoughts and the sound of Naomi’s sparkling, innocent laughter. One short moment of bright innocence, before darker thoughts began creeping in.

She’s tough, huh? Makes it easier to justify your desires, does it? Such a tough little girl, she’ll bounce back no matter what you’re about to do to her, is that it? Each whisper hit Tom’s psyche with the sting of a lashing whip. He felt filthy, disgusted and sickened with himself, but even this wasn’t enough to change his mind from the course he’d set it on. He pushed the voice back into the depths, and it fell silent. Tom took a deep breath, re-centered himself and forced himself to focus on his present surroundings.

As per his habit whenever they returned home from one of their sojourns, he scanned the site for any signs of disturbance, but as always, found nothing out of the ordinary. The camp was just as neat and orderly as it had been this morning, and everything seemed to be in the place they’d left it. The sturdy crates containing their remaining rations and other critical supplies were solidly locked, and Tom’s tools sat right where he’d left them over by the cabin construction site.

The only signs the camp had received any visitors at all were some fresh animal tracks criss-crossing the vegetable garden, though the uninvited guests had not troubled the tiny green plants poking out of the soil. This might be a problem once the vegetables start coming up properly, Tom realized. I’d better think of a way to keep the local wildlife at bay.

“Go get your pack stowed,” he told Naomi, hoisting off his own and leaning it against a crate. “I’m going to start getting things ready for our date.” Naomi nodded, took a step towards the tent, hesitated, then wheeled back around. “Um, Tom? What exactly do you do on a date?”  

“Depends on the date, and the people who are dating,” Tom answered. “You might attend a concert, or watch a movie, or go to the holodeck together. The most classic date is a dinner date, though. On a first date, it’s all about getting to know each other, and eating good food while conversing is a great way to do that. Since this is our first date, we’ll make it a dinner date.” Not to mention that the other options aren’t exactly locally available, he mentally added.

Naomi nodded along as if she understood him perfectly, but Tom knew her well enough by now to realize she wasn’t really following his logic. “We already know each other, of course,” he said with a smile. “But it’s different to get to know each other, well, romantically.” The use of romantically earned him a pleased grin, and Naomi darted off, crossing the short distance to the tent. He heard her begin humming happily to herself as she unpacked the equipment and supplies she’d been carrying during the day’s trek.

“Don’t come into the flyer for a while,” Tom cautioned through the open flap. “I don’t want the surprise ruined.” Naomi paused her humming just long enough to return an acknowledgement before continuing about her business. Leaving his own pack to be dealt with later, Tom headed into the wreck of the Delta Flyer and began to replicate the list of items he’d been composing in his head on the way back from the lake. Materializing everything he’d need for his romantic date with Naomi. Everything he’d need for his romantic date with a young girl. A girl who he now knew that he wanted, more than almost anything, to become his lover.

As he worked, he kept waiting for his inner voice to begin berating him again, but it remained silent.

All too silent.

Chapter 17: Date

Evening was well underway by the time Tom had finished his preparations. The rough wooden table he’d built for their monthly dinners had been set for two. The plates, cutlery and mugs were plain and utilitarian, taken from the survival kit. A white blanket repurposed as a tablecloth added to the air of improvisation. Tom had however allowed himself the indulgence of replicating a pair of candles in candleholders, placing one on each side of the table and lighting them.

An appetizing scent emanated from the portable stove set upon the center of the table, in which pasta, onions, cheese and minced meat were being cooked in a creamy tomato sauce, garnished with a mix of herbs and spices. A thin trail of steam drifted up from the bubbling pot, disappearing into the darkening sky. Tom had expected Naomi to ask why he was bothering to cook instead of just replicating the meal, but somehow she’d grasped that it was part of the ritual of the date. 

While he’d been getting ready, so had Naomi. She’d washed up and changed out of the green dress, which had accumulated a number of stains over the course of the day, into her favorite red one. Her hair looked freshly brushed. Maybe she knows more about dates than she let on, Tom mused. Wouldn’t surprise me in the least. 

He’d summoned Naomi from the tent once he’d finished setting the table, and her eyes had lit up on taking in his handiwork. “It’s so romantic, Tom!” she’d exclaimed, rushing over and claiming a quick kiss before seating herself at the table. He poured drinks for both of them (grape soda for Naomi, synthehol wine for himself) then took the seat opposite of her.

A full minute later, they were still sitting there in silence, Naomi smiling expectantly at Tom as he struggled for what to say next. He’d never had trouble finding things to say to her before, but many of their standard topics of discussion seemed… unsuitable. ‘What did you learn in school this week’ wasn’t what one typically asked their prospective romantic partner at dinner, after all. He took a sip of his wine and finally blurted out, to break the silence more than anything, “You look very pretty tonight.”

Despite his somewhat clunky delivery, the compliment found its mark. Naomi blushed a bit, smiled at him and returned the sentiment, “You look handsome too, Tom.” She took her eyes off him for a moment to glance down at the stove. “It smells good. I thought it was just Neelix who knew how to cook.” Her stomach made a delicate rumbling noise, and she added, “Is it ready soon? I’m really hungry.”

“Yes,” Tom replied, “In fact, I think it’s just about ready now.” He switched off the electric plate, stirred the pasta a few more times, then heaped a big serving on Naomi’s plate. “It was my father who taught me to cook. ‘A real Starfleet Officer must be able to get by without a replicator‘,“ he pontificated sternly in his best imitation of Admiral Owen Paris. His best was pretty bad, but it got a dutiful giggle from Naomi. “This bolognese is something like his signature dish.”

As Tom began to serve himself, Naomi forked a large bundle of pasta and shoved it into her mouth. Struggling a bit to chew the overlarge morsel, she finally succeeded in disappearing it down her throat with an audible gulp. “Yum! It’s really good!” she exclaimed and quickly scooped up another mouthful. For once it was Tom’s turn to feel genuinely pleased by the praise. He hadn’t made this particular dish in years and he’d been worried how it would turn out. Don’t think you had this in mind when you taught me, dad, but thanks all the same.

Naomi started to speak, but her mouth was full of food and the words entirely inaudible. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, sweetie,” Tom chided gently. Naomi obediently swallowed her food, then tried again, “Didn’t you use up more replicator energy, since you had to make all the ingredients separately?”

Evidently realizing her question could be construed as criticism, Naomi flushed and began to stammer out an apology, “Tom, I didn’t-” 

Before she could get any further, Tom forestalled her, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I didn’t take offense. It’s a good question and I wondered about it myself, but it turns out that’s not the case.“

Knowing Naomi would not be satisfied with the short answer, Tom launched into a full-blown explanation. “How much energy the replicator uses isn’t just about the number or mass of materialized objects, but also their complexity. Turns out, balancing all the ingredients and flavors meant to go into a dish like this is actually pretty complex. All in all I actually used *less* energy, and I think I can extend the savings even more if I replicate ingredients in bulk.”

“That’s so smart, Tom!” Naomi said, giving him a look bordering on worshipful. “Does that mean we can eat real dinner more often? Did you learn a lot of cooking from your dad? Can you teach me how to cook?”

“One question at a time, young lady,” Tom said, raising his hands in mock protest. “We still have to conserve energy, but if we stick to cooking our meals, and later use veggies and herbs we grow ourselves I think we could have a proper dinner… let’s say every weekend instead of every month?” Having elicited enthusiastic agreement from Naomi, Tom continued answering her questions. “I picked up quite a few dishes from my father, though some I remember better than others. As for teaching you to cook, of course I will if you want me to, sweetie.”

If her earlier look had been worshipful, Naomi was now mooning at him as if he was the second coming of Captain James T. Kirk. The initial air of awkwardness had been entirely dispelled and Tom sensed the time was right to move the conversation in a different direction. He took a sip of his wine, gathered his resolve and looked directly at Naomi. “I don’t mind chatting about cooking or replicators, Naomi, but we’re on a date and we should be getting to know each other by asking things.”

His statement shook Naomi out of her reverie, and a hint of uncertainty settled over her features. “What kind of things?” she wondered, biting her lower lip.

Tom made his smile warm and reassuring, and some of the disquiet left Naomi’s face. “Anything at all, Naomi Wildman. You can ask me absolutely anything and I’ll answer fully and honestly. However, if I ask *you* something, you have to do the same. Is that okay with you?”

Naomi gave her assent, but still didn’t look entirely at ease. 

“Here, I’ll start.” Tom said. “What made you fall in love with me, Naomi? Why not someone closer to your own age, like…” The question had sounded good in his head until the moment Tom realized just how ridiculous the prospect of Naomi finding an age-appropriate crushee on Voyager was. “Like uh… Harry?” Harry? Harry Kim? Where the hell did *that* come from? We’re off to a great start here.

The word ‘blech’ was not quite uttered, but Naomi’s expression conveyed the soul of it effectively enough. “I don’t like Harry. I mean I like him but I don’t *like* him. He treats me like a kid. Not like you, Tom! You always listen when I talk, and explain things instead of just saying stuff like ‘you’ll understand when you get older’. Harry would *never* have taken me out in the Delta Flyer!”

No, he wouldn’t, and he wouldn’t have gotten stuck here with you as a result, Tom thought. Point to Ensign Harry Kim. 

If Naomi had the same realization, she didn’t show it. Instead, she continued, heatedly, “You’re smart and brave and funny and handsome and you’re the best pilot in Starfleet. I’m in love with *you*, Tom, and *not* Harry or anyone else.” She crossed her arms and pouted at him. “That was a really dumb question.”

“Yes, it was,” Tom agreed, “I’m sorry.” Naomi did not appear at all mollified, and he realized she needed some reassurance about him. About them. He took a deep breath, “Should I tell you why I’m in love with *you*, sweetheart?”

This was clearly not what Naomi had expected him to say, and she was momentarily surprised into inaction, finally managing a nod.

Don’t screw this up now, Tom. No more mentions of Harry Kim, okay? He took a deep breath and began, “Back on Voyager, and during our first days here, I loved you in a different way. Like a little sister, or a daughter.” Tom could see her mood worsening, and quickly continued, “That’s all different now, of course. I love you like… like you love me. Like boyfriend and girlfriend, or husband and wife. I love you because you’re pretty and clever and cheeky and because you’re the bravest, most resilient girl I’ve ever met.”

Several seconds passed while Naomi considered his words. “I know you think I’m pretty and clever and stuff but… you really think I’m brave? I’m scared all the time, and I’m always crying so you have to comfort me.”

“Being brave isn’t about not being sad or afraid,” Tom explained. “It’s about carrying on *through* the fear and the pain, no matter how difficult it gets. I get afraid too, you know, and sometimes it’s you who comforts me.”

The anger seemed to have left Naomi entirely. “I didn’t know that. I thought you weren’t afraid of anything, Tom. It actually makes me feel a little less scared to know that you get scared too. Isn’t that odd?” 

She did not wait for an answer, changing the topic instead. “I never met my dad. Mom barely even talks about him anymore, I think she misses him too much. I sometimes imagine that I’m *your* daughter, even though other times I imagine that we…” she left the sentence unfinished. “That’s weird, right?”

“I don’t think it’s weird,” Tom said, meaning it too. Their conversation really *was* enlightening him on the depths of Naomi’s fixation, not that that really made things any less screwed up. Rather the opposite.

Naomi inclined her head, bit her lip again. Opened her mouth. Hesitated.

“Whatever it is, just say it, sweetie,” Tom encouraged her.

She paused for a long intake of breath. “If we… could go back. Like way back, before the crash, when we’re still on Voyager, and none of this happened. If I… could have been your daughter, would you have wanted that?“ She looked so vulnerable waiting for his answer that it ached inside to see it.

“I would have liked for you to have been my daughter, Naomi Wildman,” Tom said with complete sincerity.

They ate in silence for a while after that, the mood having sobered. Naomi finished her plate and asked for a second serving, which Tom dished out to her.

Naomi was Naomi though, so when he took her mug to give her a refill of grape soda, she flashed him a mischievous smile. “Can I have some wine?”

“No.” Tom said firmly. “Alcohol, even synthehol, is bad for a girl your age. No wine until you’re at least…” he suddenly realized he didn’t actually know what the appropriate first-drink age for a half-Ktarian was. “... old enough,” he finished lamely.

Naomi stuck out her tongue at him, then grinned. “Okay, Tom. I promise, no wine until I’m old enough. I forgive you for your dumb question, by the way. Even if it was really, really dumb. Like, really really really-”

“I get it, I get it,” Tom laughed. “I apologize again, I don’t know what came over me. Clearly, the one you should have been crushing on all along is Flotter,“ he said jokingly.

This elicited a playful shriek of protest from Naomi, and just like that the date was back on. They asked each other about things they liked, or didn’t like (Naomi’s favorite flowers were Andorian Star-Lilies, Tom’s favorite movie was ‘The Return of Doctor Chaotica’. Naomi couldn’t stand the consistency of fudge, while Tom thought most popular cakes were overrated.)

“Tom, how many girlfriends have you had?” The question came right after Naomi had finished her second serving and declined a third one, declaring herself ‘completely full’. “You’re the only boyfriend I’ve ever had,” she added rather unnecessarily.

Tom’s eyebrows shot up quizzically, “Proper girlfriends?” he asked and Naomi nodded. “Honestly, really just B’Elanna, and you of course,” he hastily appended. “I dated a Trill girl at the academy for a while, but we weren’t a good match and it never got serious.”

His answer seemed to please Naomi. “I used to be really jealous of B’Elanna, but now I kinda miss her. Even if she is scary. What kinds of sex have you and B’Elanna had?”

Tom almost choked on his wine. Spluttering, the only reply he managed was, “W-what?”

Naomi stuck her jaw out and her face took on a determined look. “You said I could ask anything I wanted. You *didn’t* say I could ask anything I wanted *except* about sex.”

“I did say that,” Tom remarked slowly, somewhat recovering his mental footing. “I’m just wondering… what made you think to ask that question?”

Naomi’s look changed to one of vague discomfiture. “Um… well… I know I’m supposed to stick to the reading material for my grade, but… see, there was this biology book with a chapter on ‘sex education’.” Embarrassment was now plain on her face. “It was just two grades above mine, I thought it was okay!” She looked at Tom pleadingly. He simply stared back, certain this was not the end of the tale.

Sure enough, Naomi had more to say, blushing harder and harder as she spoke. “It was mostly stuff Seven had already told me about, but it got me curious so I did a search on the PADD and I found a book about… having sex. I only read it a little, I swear! I’m sorry, Tom.” She hung her head in shame.

I guess that explains her sudden vocabulary maturity, Tom thought. I really should have seen this coming when I gave her unrestricted reading material access. “What kind of book?” he asked her, though he was already pretty sure of the answer.

Naomi looked back up. If she’d been red before, she was practically crimson now. “It was… about sex techniques and… positions. It had pictures. In one of the pictures, a girl had a boy’s penis in her mouth, and in another the boy had *his* mouth… down there. I already knew how you make a baby, and about using your fingers, but I didn’t know you could do… that.” She sounded equal parts bewildered and enraptured by the idea.

Tom looked away from Naomi, taking in their surroundings. By now, both suns had stepped off the stage and night made its grand entrance. Above them, unfamiliar stars twinkled and shone and from all around them came the chitter, squeaks and cries of strange unseen creatures. Only the candles, burning low by now, held back the shadows creeping in on all sides. The sense of isolation was utterly complete. Two little candles, two little people. Stranded in a dark alien vastness. He could feel that isolation push at his inner abyss, widening the hole in his soul.

Worry battled embarrassment for control of Naomi’s features by the time his gaze returned to her. Filled with a sudden, desperate desire to fight back against that rending isolation, Tom looked Naomi directly in the eyes. “Yes, you can, and it feels really good. B’Elanna especially likes it like that.” Memories rushed into his mind, images of lust and love and… the absence of loneliness.

Tom paused to gather strength for what he was about to say next, “Would you like to try it?”

Naomi’s mouth practically fell open, her reaction one of complete shock. “You mean-” she began, barely able to form the words, “You mean… now?”

“I mean now. Do you want to?” The intensity in Tom’s voice seemed to set the very air alight.

There passed a long moment of silence. 

All Tom could hear was the pounding of his heart, the blood rushing in his ears.

The silence stretched into eternity. 

Naomi Wildman said yes.

Chapter 18: Surrender (1 of 3)

Notes:

Chapter warning! This is the point in the story where things get genuinely explicit with graphic and detailed depictions of sex between Tom and Naomi. Previously, I’ve used more inexact language for sex acts, but with their relationship having changed, so will the writing going forward. If you’ve been reading along for the last 17 chapters you’re probably not too shocked at this turn, but given the highly problematic nature of what’s about to happen, I feel obligated to offer this caution.

This chapter really spiraled in length and became a three-parter, which I decided I wanted to post simultaneously. With the invaluable help of my beta reader/editor BrokenBlade I also took quite a bit of extra time with it to ensure it hits the right notes. The wait from last chapter should hopefully be made up for in length and quality. Enjoy!

The fifteen-metre walk to the tent felt like the longest journey of Tom’s life. After Naomi’s assent, nothing more had been said between them. Instead, Tom had scooped her up into his arms, carrying her across the campground. Her slender form pressed tightly to him, her small head resting on his shoulder. Warm body against warm body, their shared heat a shield against the night’s chill.

Crouching low, Tom carefully brought them through the flap and into the lit, confined interior of the tent. Slowly, gently, he set Naomi down on the one bedroll laid out on the ground. He’d rolled and stowed the second bedroll some time ago, seeing as it had been weeks since Naomi slept in it.

As if wanting no witnesses, Tom closed the tent flap. Turning back, he found Naomi where he’d left her, lying on the bedroll and watching him with large, soulful eyes. There was excitement in that look, but also nervousness, perhaps even a little bit of fear. She clearly didn’t know quite what to expect next. 

Tom stretched himself out on the ground, facing her. He reached over to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, locking her gaze with his. “Naomi. If anything doesn’t feel good, or you want to stop for any reason, you tell me right away,” he said, his voice gentle. “I won’t be angry or disappointed, no matter what. I don’t *ever* want to do anything with you that you don’t want me to do. Do you understand?” 

“I understand, Tom,” Naomi answered, her voice shaky. “What’s going to happen now?”

By way of reply, Tom moved in close and pressed his mouth to hers. Kissing, at least, was familiar territory for Naomi by now. She relaxed noticeably and began kissing him back. He parted his lips, she parted hers, and their tongues became entangled. 

It was not his first tongue kiss with Naomi (she’d wanted to learn *everything* about kissing, and he had acquiesced), but this time was different. No longer imposing detachment on himself, Tom experienced the full sensations of making out with her for the first time. Her scent, her taste, her warmth. It felt good.

Wonderfully, awfully, horrendously good.

The dark abyss inside of Tom grasped greedily at those sensations, sucking them in to try and satiate itself. 

It wasn’t nearly enough.

It wanted more.

Keeping a hand on Naomi’s cheek, Tom began to move the other downwards, tracing the curve of her back. Lower and lower the hand went until it slipped back upwards under the hem of her dress, fingertips settling on the soft skin of her hip. Naomi stiffened a little and Tom broke the kiss to ask, “Does that feel okay? Do you want me to stop?”

Naomi shook her head. “No, it’s okay. Just a… little weird.”

Continuing to caress her with gentle fingertips, Tom used his other hand to guide one of Naomi’s down his own body, and up under his shirt. “Touching isn’t just for… special places.” The childish euphemism felt absurd in the current context, but despite everything Tom still couldn’t quite bring himself to use more graphic language with her. “When you’re being touched by the right person, it can feel good in just about any spot. Feel free to touch me anywhere you want, sweetheart.”

“Okay, Tom,” Naomi said, beginning to move her hand over his stomach and chest, hesitant at first but incrementally less so. “And um, you can touch me anywhere you want, too. You don’t have to ask.”

Something about the way she said it caused Tom’s arousal, already stirred by the kissing and touching, to spike. He fought to reign it in, to not let it take over. You have to be gentle, he reminded himself. Don’t be selfish, focus on *her* needs.

Shifting himself into a sitting position, he directed Naomi to do the same, then drew her onto his lap, into his embrace. Lips connected once more and he could sense her channeling all her love and devotion through the kiss. He fought to restrain his own passion, to not overwhelm her.

Tom moved his mouth downwards, kissing the side of Naomi’s neck. She let out a noise. Pausing, he gave her a querying look. “It tickles a bit,” she admitted. After a moment she added, in a faintly accusatory tone, “We never practiced *this*.”

“It’s different from normal kissing,” Tom explained. “More like a part of sex, the part where you’re getting ready for it. Touching, too, plays into this. It’s called ‘foreplay’.”

“You have to get ready for sex?” Naomi exclaimed with wonder, as if she was being initiated into its deeper mysteries.

“It feels a lot better if you do,” Tom answered honestly.

“Are there other places you kiss when getting ready for sex?” Naomi pressed.

“Lots of places. Let me show you?” 

She eagerly agreed, as he’d known she would.

Talk giving way to action, Tom took hold of Naomi’s dress and began to tug it over her head. She lifted her arms high to help him, showing no discernible hesitation. Moments later the dress lay on the ground. Tom’s shirt followed not far behind.

Wearing only her panties and socks, Naomi straddled Tom’s legs. A shiver ran across her body, and he didn’t think it came only from her sudden exposure to the cool air. They’d been naked together on numerous occasions, but this was different and she clearly felt it.

He moved to make good on his offer, trailing kisses down her neck. Under his lips he intuited she was tracking his every move very closely, very curiously. Alertly. “Try to relax,” he instructed. “Focus on how it feels. Tell me what feels good, and what doesn’t.”

Naomi nodded, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. Picking up where he’d left off, Tom proceeded onto her shoulder, down her arm and back up again, a circuit of tender kisses. As he did so, he could feel her heartbeat quicken, her body grow warmer. 

“Feels good,” she said, breathily. “Still tickles a bit but… I like it, Tom.”

In response he moved lower, edging onto the tiny bumps on Naomi’s chest whose presence he’d first registered earlier that day at the lake. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. They were miniscule protrusions, the merest hint at the potential for feminine curves rather than their actual presence. He placed a kiss just above her right nipple.

At this Naomi’s eyes shot open and she jerked back from his lips. Tom thought he might have gone too far, too fast, but the look she gave him wasn’t fearful or accusatory. It seemed… apologetic?

“What is it, sweetheart?” Tom asked, feeling a visible confusion cross his features as with it his hand rose of its own accord to caress her jaw. Rather than jerking back from his touch again she leaned into it this time, bewildering him further.

“I’m sorry.” Naomi bit her lip fretfully before continuing. “I know I don’t have breasts yet, not like B’Elanna. You don’t have to…” Her words trailed off into silence.

So that’s it, Tom thought. She’s worried about being compared with B’Elanna for some reason. He almost told her “don't be silly”, but realized such a comment would not go over well. Instead, he gave her his warmest, most loving smile and said, “Naomi, you’re beautiful just as you are. The sweetest, most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. I’m not kissing you because I have to, I’m doing it because I *want* to.”

Saying it, he found he truly meant it, too. Somehow, in his eyes, she wasn’t just a little girl anymore, no longer just a pretty child. She truly *was* beautiful to him, in every sense of the word. 

His sincerity must have shown, because Naomi lit up like a miniature sun and pressed forward again, practically shoving her chest into his face. 

He obliged.

With tenderness, his lips brushed a small, pink nipple. Naomi drew a sharp breath. He kissed her other nipple, holding it between his lips for the briefest moment. She released an actual moan.

Raising his gaze, Tom saw that her eyes were shut tight now, her face flushed, her mouth forming a soundless ‘o’. One arm hung limply over his back, the other at her side. “Did that feel good?” he asked, unnecessarily. She nodded forcefully. “Do you want to try kissing me now?”

Naomi opened her eyes again. There was a different look in them now, something like urgency, coupled with puzzlement - whatever she was feeling, it was clearly very new to her. “Y-yes,” she replied shakily, then added more firmly, “Yes. I want to try it.”

He relaxed his body, and Naomi leaned in. Gingerly, hesitantly, she began to imitate his kissing, starting where he had. Her initial efforts on his neck were more like pecks, and when he asked her to apply a little more pressure, she overdid it to the point he thought he'd be left with hickeys. Not that he minded. Who's gonna see them?

Naomi paused midway to his shoulders, “I like this kind of kissing too. How much kissing do you need to be ready for sex?” she asked, with complete innocence.

With some effort, Tom kept himself from laughing. “There’s no specific amount required of either kissing or touching, but typically the more you do, the better.” He placed one of his hands so it rested lightly on her shoulder. “You can keep kissing me if you want, and I'll start touching you. Okay?” 

By way of reply, Naomi returned her lips to his neck, which he took for agreement. Her kisses were starting to find a better balance between gentle and rough, and to elicit distinct feelings of pleasure in him in earnest. He made a murmur of approval.

As he began to lovingly stroke Naomi’s soft skin, Tom was struck with a strong urge to touch her in all the places he’d never touched before. To mark all of her as his.

Some very distant part of him still felt abhorrence at everything he was doing, but the abyss had him well beyond any lifeline now, consuming him, consuming her. Devouring every touch and every transgression. Just a little more, it seemed to offer. Just a little more and you’ll be whole again.

His fingertips brushed her nipples as before, now damp from his lips, testing their sensitivity to touch. A muffled moan against his chest gave the answer. Her kisses became unfocused and sporadic as he roamed her body. Moving lower, ever lower.

He cupped the curve of her ass, giving it a firm squeeze through the fabric of her underwear. This startled Naomi out of her reverie, and she sat back upright, giving him a questioning look. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Tom said with sincere remorse, letting go of her behind. “I got a little too enthusiastic there. Did I scare you?”

Naomi shook her head again. “No, I was just surprised.” She was silent for a moment, then added, “You can touch me anywhere you want, Tom. I already said that.”

Tom wasn't sure if the request he read in her ‘anywhere’ was real or merely imagined.

He acted on it anyway.

His hand made the sojourn to her thigh, but did not stay there. Down it went to where the one met the other, under the fabric, *in between*. Towards the place he’d laid his fingers on once before. 

That time, in distress and desperation. 

This time, in carnal desire.

He brushed against her opening.

The abyss roared approval. 

He-

“Tom?” Naomi’s voice jolted him back into reality. 

“Something’s pushing on my leg.”

Chapter 19: Surrender (2 of 3)

Tom’s arousal had burst back onto the stage, and this time he knew there was no bringing it to heel. He was harder than he could ever remember being, and that hardness was the *something* pressing against her, desperate to be unleashed.

Naomi, too, seemed to comprehend, “Is that-” she began, and Tom nodded. Her eyes went wide and filled with a look of distinct apprehension. No matter what books she may have read or fantasies she may have indulged in, she was clearly finding the real experience of male arousal unsettling.

“It’s nothing to be afraid of, sweetheart,” Tom reassured her, his hand slipping back out from beneath her panties. “My penis getting like that just means that you did a great job getting me ready for sex. It shows how much I want to be with you, how much I love you.” 

He regretted saying that last bit immediately. Naomi already had enough trouble not utterly conflating love with sex, and he was making it worse. But isn't that what you want? The voice of his self-loathing was faint but unmistakable. If love is giving in to desire, is there *anything* she wouldn't do for you?

I’m all she’ll ever have! Tom growled back. *Both* of us are all the other will ever have and *I* would do *anything* for *her*, so just shut the fuck *up*!

Mercifully, the voice receded. His swollen erection was harrowing in its current state of constraint and it was a vicious battle to focus on anything else. He shifted back so he no longer pressed against Naomi, but this offered little relief. 

There was no helping it.

Tom lifted Naomi off his lap and rose to his feet, the top of his head brushing the canvassed ceiling. Naomi’s gaze was glued to the all-too-obvious bulge now directly in her field of vision. Strikingly, she seemed no longer nervous so much as… expectant. I wonder how many times she’s fantasized about this kind of moment, Tom mused. Am I really doing this?

He was really doing it.

Tom unclasped and removed his belt. He had to struggle a bit to free himself of his pants, mentally cursing the tight fit of Starfleet-issue clothing, but inevitably they too were cast aside. 

Naomi's focus never wavered. She’d risen to half-sitting, as if to try for a better view. 

Down to his underwear now, the shape of Tom’s hardness was on clear display through the thin black fabric. Given they were at least designed for comfort, Tom could have stopped there, having achieved his sought-after relief.

Losing the underwear took no time at all. 

Tom Paris stood naked and erect before Naomi Wildman. She made a marked gasp, eyes looking ready to pop out of her head. “It looks… so different,” she said, breaking the silence at last. “I knew from the pictures it would, but…”

“It’s something else to see it in real life?” Tom guessed, and Naomi nodded. She wore an odd expression he couldn’t quite read. Almost… amused? It lasted only a second though, before her gaze lifted from his privates to his eyes. “Should I… uh… put it in my mouth now?” Her tone carried a hint of nerves - no surprise there - but also a kernel of readiness, as if thinking it the obvious next step.

This wasn’t the direction Tom had intended to take things. When he’d propositioned Naomi, he’d pictured *him* pleasuring *her*. Kissing and touching to ease her into it before tending to her needs. But *this* was flipping it all on its head, with Naomi pitching instead to embark on her first fellatio. Suddenly his dream from a few nights ago was taking on prophetic qualities.

Tom tried to pull the brakes, “You don’t have to do that, love.” It was a new pet name, more suited to the moment. “Don’t you want me to touch you again, make *you* feel good first?”

Naomi shook her head, “Not right now. You’ve made me feel good a bunch of times, but I’ve never done it for you. That’s not fair.” Her tone bore that special Naomi-like resolve, portending an uphill struggle for persuasion attempts.

As Tom ransacked his mind for a way to bring her around, he suddenly realized how ridiculous it all was. What did it matter if he took care of her first, or she of him? Would giving head to Naomi before she gave it to him make it any less depraved, any less damnable? Why not let her have her wish? It wasn't like he didn’t want her to.

Because Tom Paris really *did* want to have his dick sucked by Naomi Wildman.

He drew in a deep breath. “Are you sure you feel ready for this, Naomi? Remember you can always change your mind at any time, for any reason. I won’t be-” 

“You already said that, Tom,” Naomi cut in, irritably. “I’m sure!”

But she didn’t *sound* sure. The moment Tom folded, Naomi’s expression had slipped from set determination to bare uncertainty. He got the sense that the reality of what she’d gotten herself into had suddenly hit home. That *his* dick would go in *her* mouth, for real. At the same time, he suspected she was loath to back down, especially after snapping at him with that level of bravado. 

“I’ll guide you,” he told her after a moment or two, and she gave him a look so grateful it twisted him a little inside. “First, sit up on your knees here, in front of-” an idea struck and he held up a finger to forestall Naomi. “Hold on.”

He leaned forward, picked up a pillow and placed it on the ground in front of him. “There, put your knees on the pillow,” he instructed and Naomi obeisantly kneeled. How chivalric of you, the voice mocked. Making sure the kid is comfortable while she gives you head. Thankfully it seemed more distant now, as if confined in some dark corner of his mind.

Easier to ignore.

Naomi’s head was now practically level with Tom’s cock. She stared at it, transfixed, as if it was some bizarre alien creature. He moved closer, so that his hardness was only centimetres away from her face. The anticipation of the moment added to his arousal, causing the tip to twitch slightly. Her eyes became wide as saucers.

Naomi bit her lip in that fretful way again. “I don’t know if I can get… all of it…” she muttered doubtfully, “..into my mouth?” From her demeanor, one might think she was letting him down in some frightful way. 

Tom gripped her shoulder gently. “I’m not expecting you to, love,” he reassured. Tom Paris wasn’t very large, somewhere just north of average, but for now that was still much too large for her. “Just like kissing, sex is something you get better at with practice, nobody can do everything the first time. You’ll have lots of chances to practice.”

His tacit admission that he expected blowjobs from Naomi to be a regular feature of his life from now on almost passed him by. 

Almost.

Naomi, for her part, didn't appear at ease just yet, and Tom figured B'Elanna was on her mind again. He was about to say more about sex and expectations when he realized he was stalling, putting off the actual initiation of the act. Despite everything, he was still reluctant to cross that one final boundary, to truly and irreversibly become a different Tom Paris.

To become the Tom Paris that’s put his dick in a child.

He couldn't say if the bluntness of that truth had come from him or from the voice, but in a single instant it breached each and every of the walls he’d thrown up around his mind. Beyond the breach lay a vast, black ocean of guilt, recrimination and self-hatred. Dammed up, walled off, shoved aside. Concealed but not gone. 

Far more guilt than he could bear.

Hopelessness seized him and he gave in to it, ready to surrender. To let it take him and carry him away. To disappear under dark waters and never emerge again.

Then he remembered Naomi.

What would happen to her if he gave up? What would she do if he wasn’t there? How would it make her feel to be abandoned yet again?

He had a sudden vision of her vanishing beneath those same black waves. Alone. Afraid.

Even the unbearable has degrees, realized Tom Paris.

The dark torrent surged forward, and Tom closed his eyes, unresisting. As it washed over him it flooded his mouth and nostrils, filling his lungs, attempting to drown him in the ocean of his sins.

Tom, however, did not go under.

Instead, he opened his eyes and *breathed it in*.

For Naomi, he could live and breathe in those dark waters forever.

For her, truly, he would do absolutely anything.

He came back to himself.

“Naomi,” Tom uttered aloud, the name charged with new meaning. She looked up hesitantly, as if unsure what to make of the change in his inflection. “I promised to guide you and I will. I’ll show you how to make me feel very, very good. That’s what you want to do, isn’t it?”

Naomi remained silent. She hung her head, not meeting his eyes.

A lump formed in Tom’s throat. Am I forcing her into this?

“Naomi,” he pressed, dead serious now. “If you’re having second thoughts, we’ll stop this right now. We-”

Naomi shot up. “No!” she protested. “It *is* what I want to do, but…” Her head dropped again. Barely audibly, she mumbled, “But I just don’t think I can-”

Comprehension dawned on Tom. He now understood what she needed from him. 

He put a finger to her lips, shushing her. “No buts, sweetheart. When it comes to sex, I’m your teacher and you’re my student. And if there’s one thing the Naomi Wildman I know is better at than anyone else in the entire galaxy, it’s studying and learning.”

These words had the desired effect. Naomi smiled and instantly looked far more at ease. He didn’t think it was just from the praise, either. Dressing up the sexual act as a kind of school exercise gave her a familiar context to apply to a very unfamiliar experience, with an added boost of confidence in her ability to get it right.

Hands-on sex education with Tom Paris. The notion was darkly humorous. I don’t see it being introduced into any grade of the Federation curriculum.

“As your teacher’s already covered, there’s never a need to rush into sex. Start with just your hands,” Tom instructed. “Get to know my penis, study the feel of it.”

Tentatively, she reached out. 

Tom held his breath in anticipation.

Naomi touched his cock.

Small, delicate fingers settled just below its head, their weight ever so soft upon his hardness. Right there she halted, at the very gates of their budding sexual relationship, as if conflicted on whether to proceed.

Then, her curiosity seemed to prevail. Again she moved her hand, tracing a fingertip along a bulging vein, mumbling something inaudibly. Even just that light touch sent little ripples of pleasure through Tom. “Try wrapping your fingers *around* it,” he encouraged. 

Naomi obliged, delicate digits encircling him halfway down his length. “It’s so hard,” she marveled, then let out a surprised little noise. “It’s moving!”

Tom’s erection, which had retreated during his moments of inner struggle, was rallying with a vengeance, growing noticeably under her touch. “It means I’m feeling aroused,” he said, still in his teacher role. “It’s a good feeling, the kind you get when you want to have sex. Your touching is arousing me, sweetheart. You’re doing great.”

Naomi soaked up every word, her expression one of pure, innocent joy. She brought her left hand to join the right, probing the top of his swollen head. Then, a mischievous glimmer animated her eyes. She pushed lightly *down*, letting go of his dick at the same time. Down it went, before bounding rapidly back up. Quivering, it settled into place again.

Naomi began to giggle. “I’m sorry Tom, I couldn’t help myself,” she said, tittering between her words. “It just seemed so… bouncy.”

Tom chuckled as well, then arranged his visage into a blatantly fake scowl. “Miss Wildman,” he intoned in the voice of a stern teacher. “Are you not taking this class seriously?”

Naomi tittered again but played along. “I’m sorry, Mr. Paris,” she replied sweetly. “I’ll pay closer attention from now on.”

“See that you do, young lady,” he teacher-voiced, then dropped the act. “Do you feel ready to try with your mouth, sweetheart?” he asked, giving her a direct look.

Nervousness crept back into Naomi’s features, but this time, instead of shrinking in self-doubt she met his gaze levelly. “Not really,” she admitted. “But I want to anyway. I want to learn, and I want to… make you aroused, Tom.” She paused to reflect, regarding his dick again. “What do girls get like when they’re aroused?”

A part of Tom, the part that was ravenous to finally feel her lips on him, wanted to scrap the explanations, but he easily dismissed the impulse. “Mostly it’s the same for both boys and girls. You feel warm, your heart races and your skin tingles. You feel… like you have an itch that only the one you love can scratch.”

Judging by her countenance, Tom perceived that Naomi was entirely familiar with all of the sensations he was describing to her. “As to what’s specific for girls, they get moist… down there.” He gestured vaguely downwards then recognized that unspecificity wasn’t the hallmark of a good teacher. “In their vagina,” he corrected himself.

Naomi’s eyes widened in a startled fashion. “Tom…” she began, “I think I’m aroused too.” Her hand began to edge towards her crotch, then she seemed to notice her own actions. She blushed furiously.

The last shreds of Tom’s doubts fell away.

Chapter 20: Surrender (3 of 3)

“It’s okay, Naomi. Don’t be embarrassed by your own desires. *Never* be embarrassed by your own desires. If it feels good, it *is* good.”

Tom’s words had a calm, authoritative air to them, as if he was stating the most obvious of truths. He spoke to a practically naked Naomi who sat on her knees in front of his engorged cock. No one catching a glimpse of them in that moment could have the slightest doubt as to the nature of affairs.

Naomi seemed a little taken aback. She inched her hand further down while staring at him as if to test the validity of his statement. Tom gave her an encouraging nod, and this seemed to settle her misgivings. Her fingers went in between her legs and she began to inquisitively feel herself out.

“It really *is* wet,” she uttered, seemingly disconcerted by her discovery. “What is it, Tom? Is it like pee?”

I guess we really *are* doing sex ed now, Tom thought. “It’s very different from pee,” he said. “It’s… a kind of lubrication. You know what lubrication means, right?”

“Duh,” Naomi exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “Why do I need lubrication… *there*, though?”

“It’s so a penis will have an easier time going in,” Tom elaborated. “It’s crucial that a girl is aroused for that kind of sex to feel good, and not hurt. That’s one of the reasons foreplay is so important.”

“Oh, I get it now!” Naomi said excitedly. “When you put your penis in me, we have to do a lot of touching and kissing first or else we won’t feel good!” She sounded highly pleased with her own feat of comprehension.

Tom had absolutely *no* intention of taking things that far. No matter how wet she might get, there was just no way he could currently penetrate Naomi without hurting her. But even so, the mere *idea* of one day becoming one with her was enough to trigger another wave of arousal.

He needed release.

Badly.

“We’re getting a bit ahead in the classes here,” Tom stated, trying to use the teacher-voice. It came out more choked than stern. “Let’s resume the lesson at hand, shall we?”

If Naomi noticed his inability to control his own tone, her reply gave no sign of it. “Yes, Mr. Paris,” she answered easily. Eagerly, almost. It was clear that she, too, no longer found the prospect of fellating him so daunting. She said no more, simply awaiting further instruction.

It really was time.

“Start by holding it in your hand again,” Tom began. Almost immediately, slender fingers encircled him once more. “No bouncing this time,” he added. His lilt made it clear he was just playing around and Naomi laughed.

“You see where the skin ends, right at the tip?” Naomi nodded. “Start there, then move up and down along the penis so you’re drawing the skin back and forth.”

These were once again uncharted waters for Naomi, and it showed. Her execution of his instruction was elaborately careful, as if *she* were afraid of harming *him*. As his foreskin was peeled back, she openly goggled at the naked red flesh beneath, but continued the stroking motion all the same.

When Naomi reached the point where she could push the skin back no further, she reversed direction, painstakingly returning everything to its original place. She stopped there, glancing up at Tom for affirmation.

“You did good, sweetheart,” he commended her. “Do it again, but no need to be so careful this time. You’re not going to hurt me.”

Naomi, ever the sponge for praise, resumed the servicing lesson with a greater degree of certitude. Her small, soft hand traveled up and down the length of Tom’s cock, gaining in speed and confidence with every pass. 

The experience was now a well and truly enjoyable one for Tom. He closed his eyes, relishing each intimate touch and stroke. Thoughts slipped away, replaced with sensations. He let out a loud, involuntary groan of approval.

Naomi’s motions abruptly stopped. He opened his eyes and saw she was staring at him again, this time with evident concern. She’s never seen a man in the throes of pleasure before, he registered, then inwardly cursed himself for the stupidity of his observation. Of course she hasn’t, you absolute moron! You can’t just lose yourself like this, not with her!

“I’m fine, Naomi.” He tried to sound soothing, but his rapidly beating heart and the tingling sensations coursing through his entire body made a mess of it. I might well have climaxed then and there if she hadn’t stopped, he realized, disgusted with his lack of self-control.

Tom decided to just be honest with Naomi. He smiled while ruffling her hair affectionately. “I lost myself in the moment,” he admitted, “but only because you were doing *so good*, sweetheart. You made me feel amazing. Really amazing.”

His words had Naomi grinning from ear to ear. “Of course I did. I *am* the best at learning, after all!” she boasted proudly, then added, “Tom, I want to put it in my mouth now. Can I?”

Her request, which not long ago would have evoked revulsion and alarm, now filled him with an altogether different feeling. “Of course you can, Naomi. I love you, you know that, right?”

“I know,” Naomi replied self-assuredly, plainly still riding high on his effusive praise. “I love you too, Tom.” She leaned forward until her lips were practically touching the head of Tom’s dick, then hesitated, likely considering how to proceed.

“Take it slow,” Tom advised. His hand was still resting on her head, and he used it to nudge her ever so slightly forward. “Start with just kissing, or feeling it out with your tongue. Get a sense of it, just like you did before.”

Naomi let herself be guided. Her mouth crossed the final separating distance, placing a soft, tentative kiss against Tom’s very tip, then another a little further up. “Weird,” she commented, faintly.

Despite the remark, she pressed on unwaveringly, sticking out her tongue and giving him an experimental lick. The gentle wet pressure  made Tom shiver pleasurably. “Weird,” she said, a second time. Even so, she appeared ready to continue on.

“Try to get your mouth over the tip,” Tom coached. “If you feel in any way uncomfortable, just back out and try again. You don’t have to get it right in one-”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence. Naomi slipped rapidly over and around his cock, the head disappearing between her soft, thin lips. She seemed to struggle only a little with the unfamiliar feel of *him* in her mouth before relaxing into it.

She really is an amazingly fast learner, he marveled, and was filled with an intense sense of pride in her, utterly absurd in the present situation.

Dick in mouth, Naomi gazed up at Tom. He surmised she was gauging his reaction. “You’re doing great, love,” he assured her. “Move your mouth slowly along the shaft, just like you did with your fingers. Only as much as you can fit on your tongue, though,” he cautioned. “Don’t try to take in too much.”

Naomi tried to say something he thought to be agreement, but her words were completely inaudible.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Tom said mildly, for the second time that evening.

Naomi began to suck his cock.

Her technique was, naturally, amateurish and clumsy. She had no idea what to do with her tongue and used way too much teeth. She could fit just about half of him into her mouth, and a few times he had to apply a hand on her head to discourage her from going any deeper.

It was the most pleasurable blowjob Tom had received in his life. 

The sheer intensity of it felt unreal. He was very sensitive after a month in which he had not even dared to touch himself, yes, but it was *so* much more than just that. 

The best sex he’d ever had with B’Elanna seemed… inauthentic… in comparison to Naomi’s clumsy ministrations. Like a bad holodeck program at a sleazy bar. Tom had never gotten much out of sex when he didn’t feel an emotional connection, and his link with Naomi went far beyond anything he had previously experienced in his life. 

He had surrendered himself to her, and she had surrendered herself to him.

They were as one.

“Hold on-” Tom grunted, pulling himself out of Naomi’s mouth *just* in the nick of time. 

Naomi looked utterly confused at the suddenness of his exit, but the question forming on her lips never made it into words.

Tom came.

Thick white strands shot from him in a great eruption that made Naomi rear back in shocked surprise. Much of it ended up on the ground, but not all. Her right hand had been directly in the line of fire, and specks of white dotted her arm, chest and thighs. A large blob was splattered across her cheek.

Pondering the moment later on, Tom debated whether he accurately recalled the sight of his cum on Naomi’s childish features having been about to trigger a second crisis of conscience. Whether his commitment to the path of self-damnation could have been shattered in that moment, and he along with it.

If only she hadn’t started laughing.

It was the last reaction Tom would have expected from her, and he stared at her in stunned silence as she shook with uncontrollable giggles.

Naomi recovered enough to get a few words out. “I’m sorry-” this was followed by more laughing. “It’s just-” Another pause for laughter. She finally managed to compose herself and rose to her feet. “I’m really sorry, Tom. It just looks so… strange, all red and veiny and bouncy and stuff and I didn’t want to laugh again but then…” She held up her hand to consider the sticky substance clinging to it. “Penises are *weird*,” Naomi declared.

Her statement was so out of the blue, it made Tom start laughing too, which triggered another fit of giggles in Naomi. And so, there the pair of them stood, in the glorious aftermath of their first true sex act. Tom, completely naked and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Naomi in her panties, splattered with cum. 

Both of them doubled over with laughter.

When the mirth died down at last, Naomi flashed Tom a bright smile, “I’m glad you’re not mad at me for laughing at your penis, Tom.” Despite everything, Tom couldn’t help but wince at her choice of words.

Naomi cheerfully went on, “I’m glad I could make you feel good, too. I liked doing it, even if it was really weird at first.” She regarded her fingers again, and experimentally put a fingertip into her mouth. “Yuck.”

“That’s why I didn’t cum in your mouth,” Tom told her. Naomi’s confused look called for him to elaborate, so he did, “That’s what it’s called when the penis shoots out sperm.” This explanation seemed to click with her, her understanding no doubt greatly assisted by her illicit reading habits.

Tom returned to his previous point. “Not everyone likes the taste of cum, and *nobody* likes it the first time around. It’s not the sort of thing you do unless the other person wants you to.”

Naomi furrowed her brow in thought. “Does B’Elanna like it?” she queried. Tom nodded. “Then I’ll learn to like it too,” she exclaimed airily. 

This again? Tom sighed inwardly. Why is she trying so hard to compete with someone who isn’t even here? Aloud he said, “I’m sure you will, sweetheart. But not now. Right now…”

In one swift motion Tom crossed the distance to where Naomi was sitting, eliciting a squeak of surprised protest as he lowered her to the bedroll, onto her back.

“Right now, it’s *my* turn to make *you* feel good.”

Chapter 21: Release (1 of 3)

Propped up on an elbow, Tom leaned over Naomi where she lay. He gazed at her with an affectionate smile and she gazed back, in quiet anticipation.

“I’m going to make you feel good now, sweetheart,” he told her. “Just like you did for me. The only thing *you* need to do is to relax and tell me to stop if I do something you don’t like.” He flashed her a mischievous grin. “Or to do it again, if I do something you *really* like.”

His last comment made Naomi blush faintly, but she appeared eager for him to begin. Tom figured that she, too, was yearning for the release of her pent-up arousal, even if she likely could not put that feeling into words yet. She relaxed back into the soft fabric of the bedroll, arms outstretched at her sides, legs slightly parted.

Tom curved in closer over Naomi, heading low. He kissed her navel, but didn’t stop there. Down he went, leaving a trail of kisses on her soft belly, until he reached the last inch of exposed skin above the white fabric of her underwear. His hand moved leisurely to join his lips. He hooked a single finger under the waistband, then halted, letting the anticipation build. 

Naomi let out a faint, urgent whine.

Slowly, deliberately, Tom slipped Naomi’s underwear down her legs, over her feet. They made a small arc in the air before they landed among the rest of their clothes.

Her last article of modesty discarded, Naomi’s nude body was on full display to Tom. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before and yet… it very much was. This time, he wasn’t making an assessment of her recent growth, or playing innocently in the water together.

Or, for that matter, trying very hard to not look at what was now receiving the full span of his attention.

Naomi’s pussy.

Until now, he would not even have been able to think of the small, smooth opening between her legs in such a blatantly sexual manner.

But then, Tom was not the same Tom that had woken up that morning, the same Tom that had entered the tent, or even the same Tom who had nearly given in to despair only minutes ago.

The abyss no longer had him.

*He* had *it*.

Once more, his fingers brushed against Naomi’s most intimate place. He glanced up at her, wanting to be sure. Needing to be sure. She was watching him from under half-closed lids, nodding firmly to the unspoken question in his eyes. He sensed that for whatever reason, she was deliberately keeping silent.

Perhaps she still felt embarrassed. 

Perhaps she simply didn’t want to risk breaking the spell.

Tom placed his fingertips against the exterior of Naomi’s labia. He began making slow, circular movements, using her own folds to rub against her clit. She stifled one moan, then another.

“Don’t hold it in, love,” Tom encouraged her, his rubbing motions not missing a beat. “Don’t be embarrassed. I *want* to hear you.”

Naomi moaned again, less suppressed this time. “Tom, I feel–” An involuntary vocalization cut her off. “..Don’t stop,” she finally managed, parting her legs even wider.

Tom did not stop. In fact, he was only getting started. He slipped in under her folds, exploring the exterior of her pussy and gauging her readiness. 

She was soaked.

Tom placed a fingertip on her clit. The direct touch produced another non-verbal exclamation from Naomi. He stroked it repeatedly, to her evident enjoyment, then brought in a second finger. 

Holding her most sensitive button gently between his two digits, Tom made a series of up-down and then sideways motions, alternating to maximize the experience for her. Naomi arched her back beneath him, her groans and whines coming faster and louder. She seemed well beyond words at this point. 

Tom thought she might be close. He decided it was time.

He withdrew his hand, shifted his body to rest directly on the ground, and leaned in. His tongue-

“Wait-” said a small voice. He looked up. 

Naomi had raised her head from the bedroll and was looking at him. Her face was completely flushed and she was clearly struggling to speak. “Wait, Tom. I don’t want- it feels wrong,” she said, her words a jumble. 

The words ‘it feels wrong’ froze Tom’s heart, and he fought to keep his voice level, “What feels wrong, sweetheart?”

Naomi gave no immediate answer but instead took a moment to collect herself and rise to a half-sitting position. Icy dread spread through Tom as he became convinced he had just made the worst mistake of his entire sorry life.

It must have shown on him, because now Naomi looked alarmed. “I don’t mean the touching!” she blurted out. “I *liked* the touching, it felt… it felt…” she seemed to lack adequate vocabulary, “...I really liked it, Tom, I promise I did!” It sounded like she meant every letter of every word.

The cold fist of dread let go of Tom, and he let out a long, shuddering breath. “Then what is it, Naomi?” he asked, his voice shaky.

“It’s-” Naomi began, then fell silent. She tried again, “I don’t-”

More silence.

“I pee from there!” she suddenly exclaimed, somehow managing to blush visibly when she was already the shade of a ripe tomato.

Comprehension dawned on Tom. “You’re embarrassed for me to use my mouth where you pee from?” he asked and she nodded gratefully. A notion struck him. “Were you also embarrassed when you did the same for me?”

“A little,” Naomi admitted, “but that’s different. You know everything about sex, Tom. You wouldn’t accidentally pee while-”

I guess I ought to be pleased to get such a firm vote of confidence in my sexual know-how, Tom thought wryly. Aloud he said, “But you’re afraid *you* might?”

Naomi bit her lip, fidgeted her hands. He’d never seen her this embarrassed before. “... yes,” she mumbled.

“I don’t know *everything* about sex, Naomi,” Tom stated, with as much surety as he could muster, “but I do know that what you’re worrying about isn’t going to happen. It simply doesn’t work like that - the parts you use to pee and the parts used for sex are not the same.”

Naomi thought this over briefly. “They’re really not?”

“They’re not,” Tom confirmed. “However, if you still feel too embarrassed, that’s okay. I can go back to touching you instead, or we can stop here. It’s your choice, sweetheart. It will always be your choice.”

“No, I don’t want to stop!” Naomi burst out. “I want to- I want to try it. If you’re really sure I won’t…”

“I’m absolutely certain,” Tom reassured her, and this finally seemed to settle her. But rather than lying back down, she remained half-sitting. He guessed she wanted to watch.

Tom’s face went in between Naomi’s thighs.

His first lick was tentative, curious. He touched the tip of his tongue against her clit lightly, then again with a little more force. He glanced up to observe her reaction. Her wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression spoke equally of startlement and gratification, with no obvious trace of her earlier discomfort.

Tom went for it in earnest. His tongue laid a lacework of heavy strokes, drew a maze of tiny circles, flicked her from side to side. He used every trick and every bit of skill he’d picked up over the course of his life, and in particular, during his time with B’Elanna. She had never been shy about telling him exactly what she liked, and Tom had been all too happy to give it to her.

Naomi, for her part, seemed overtaken with ecstasy. She sat rooted in a forward slump, eyes closed, clinging to Tom’s shoulders for dear life. From her throat came a steady stream of moans, whimpers and monosyllabic exclamations that spoke of a level of pleasure far beyond what her limited past experience could have enabled her to imagine.

Riding a storm of such fury, bucking against lightning, Naomi could hold on for only so long. Her breath fractured into gasps; sharp, quick, agonised. Her pelvis began to rock of its own accord, grinding feverishly against Tom’s face.

Her eyes shot open.

Naomi Wildman found her release.

Her back jerked up ramrod straight and she let out an uncontrolled cry. Her nails dug into Tom’s flesh as her whole body shook with the orgasm.

Tom let his tongue come to a rest. Drawing himself up, he pulled Naomi into a tight embrace, holding her to him as she rode the waves of her climax. Finally, the shudders came to an end and her breathing gradually slowed.

He began to stroke her hair soothingly. She rested her head against his chest, her ridges pressing gently into his flesh.

They sat this way for a long time.

At last, Naomi said, in a very soft voice, “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”

Tom smiled, his reply just as gentle. “It’s a lot more intense for girls than it is for boys. Was it scary?”

“A bit,” Naomi admitted. “Until you hugged me.” She yawned loudly and sagged against him. “Tom, I’m sleepy.”

Tom placed a kiss on the top of Naomi’s head, feeling a renewed surge of love and affection. A renewed urge to protect her from any and all ills. To fill her days with as much joy and happiness as he could possibly offer her.

“Let’s go to bed,” he said.

Chapter 22: Release (2 of 3)

Notes:

This is a very short bonus chapter from Naomi’s point of view. Until now, I’ve kept the story strictly in Tom’s POV and barring this sort of rare exception I am going to continue to do so in the future.

Naomi Wildman was dreaming.

In her dream, she was back on earth. She’d never *been* on earth and so could not be *back* there, but through the ways of dream-logic, it was still so.

She was lying on her bed, in her room. It was an amalgamation of her quarters on Voyager and various bedrooms she’d seen pictures of in the computer’s archives. Occasionally bits of furniture and decor would appear or disappear, but that seemed normal to her.

Her mom Samantha was there, and of course so was her dad, Tom.

They were in the process of tucking her in for the night, settling the heavy, fluffy covers all around her. Naomi felt really sleepy, even though some small part of her brain told her she was already asleep.

It made no sense, but that was okay too.

“Good night, sweetheart,” dad-Tom said.

“Sweet dreams, pumpkin,” Mom added.

As dream-Naomi closed her eyes, she was suddenly filled with a cold sense of *wrongness*. Her eyelids slammed open and she stared around her in fearful bewilderment.

Her room was gone, and her bed now stood in an endless field of dark, windswept grass under a starlit sky.

Her mom and dad were gone, too.

Everyone and everything was gone.

Naomi woke with a start and a cry. For an instant, she did not know where she was. In that one instant, she was all alone in the universe, just as in the dream.

Then she felt a body move against hers, stirring awake. Heard Tom’s voice, blurred with drowsiness, “Did you have a nightmare?”

She wasn’t alone. Tom was here. Tom hadn’t left her.

Relief flooded into Naomi, so sweet and profound it almost made her giddy.

“I did,” she told him. “Can you hug me a bit closer?”

Tom hugged her a bit closer. 

It made her feel a little better, but Naomi’s heart was still beating hard in her chest, making it difficult to go back to sleep.

Naomi had an idea.

“Can you make me feel good again?” she asked, hopefully.

Tom did that for her, too.

A short while later, Naomi was on the very cusp of falling back into sleep. Her mind had begun to drift, her thoughts getting fuzzy and unfocused. 

The last echoes of the tingling sensation were still coursing through her. It felt nice.

Tom settled back into position, tucking the bedroll about them and draping his arm around Naomi.

“Good night, sweetheart,” he said.

“Good night, Dad,” Naomi mumbled back, and fell asleep.

She had no more nightmares that night.

Chapter 23: Release (3 of 3)

Notes:

This was meant to just be the opening of the next chapter but morphed into another mini-chapter. After this the story will resume properly - we’re nowhere near the end yet.

Morning was still some time away when Tom awoke with a powerful need to relieve himself. He carefully disentangled himself from Naomi, wriggled out of the bedroll and got onto his feet. He paused for a moment to watch her before leaving the tent. Naomi remained soundly asleep, chest slowly rising and falling with each breath, her features peaceful.

It had rained at some point during the night, and the ground outside was wet. Only the barest hint of dawn’s light could be seen on an otherwise dark horizon, and Tom shivered in the chill, damp air, naked as he was. He considered going back inside to get dressed, but decided against it, not wanting to further risk waking Naomi.

Naomi. How things can change in a single day, Tom reflected as he began to go about his business against a nearby bush. Yesterday’s events replayed in his mind over and over. The climb, the lake, his promise, their date. The tent. Her lips on him. His lips on her.

His release, then hers.

Throughout that fateful day, Tom had felt much like a shipwrecked sailor in a raging sea, tossed like hollowed driftwood on the tumultuous waves of his own fears and desires. Looking inward now, he found only calm waters.

It wasn’t that he now believed what he’d done to be right and good, but the shades of it certainly seemed greyer to him than they ever could have before the crash. Besides, the morality of it didn’t actually matter to him anymore. 

Tom had once believed himself to own a certain set of unshakable moral values. He now understood that such values meant *nothing* until they were truly put to the test. 

Over the last month, his moral compass had been crushed, ground and burnt away until only the simplest of guiding principles remained: If he could bring Naomi happiness, make her feel loved and comfort her fears, he would do absolutely *anything*.

Tom thought about Voyager. He no longer believed he and Naomi would be rescued, no longer believed they would ever return home, but if the chance ever *did* appear, he would seize it and accept whatever consequences came his way, whatever punishment was meted out. That, too, he would do for her.

For the first time in his life, Tom Paris felt he genuinely had a purpose. He felt… free.

He also felt exhausted beyond the point of exhaustion, wrung out of every last drop of physical and mental energy he possessed.

Immediate needs dealt with, Tom returned to the tent. Naomi was still slumbering; serene, untroubled, beautiful.

Gingerly, Tom crawled back into the bedroll, into the small, sheltered space they’d made for themselves, a tiny bubble of warm togetherness in a cold, uncaring universe.

‘Sometimes it’s you who comforts me,’ he’d told Naomi. 

There was more truth in that statement than she could ever know.

Chapter 24: Tandem

By unspoken agreement, Tom and Naomi slept in late. Once they’d risen, washed, dressed and sat down to breakfast, both suns were in the sky and the day was in full swing. The weather was pleasantly warm and the suns’ combined efforts had long since seen off the last of the night’s damp.

Naomi had been uncharacteristically subdued all morning. Numerous times, Tom had noticed her watching him, sometimes smiling and other times with her brow creased. At one point, she cast him a glance that he read as ‘did that actually happen?’. Clearly she, too, needed some time to process yesterday’s events.

It wasn't until she’d downed the last bits of her breakfast that Naomi finally broke the silence. “What are we going to do today, Tom?” Her question was punctuated by a great big yawn.

Tom had been so wrapped up in the day before, the day ahead had entirely slipped his mind. “Today is supposed to be a regular day,” he began, thinking as he spoke. “Honestly though, I’m too tired to work on the cabin - I’d risk injuring myself. What about you, sweetheart? Feel up to studying?”

“Not really,” Naomi admitted, yawning again. “I’m tired too. Does sex always make you this sleepy?”

It was a sign of the difference a day could make that Tom now felt entirely comfortable casually discussing sex over breakfast. “Usually not,” he replied. “But a lot happened yesterday.”

Naomi’s eyes took on a distant look, and she began to fidget with the inedible core of her finished breakfast pelon. A large flock of the birds she’d dubbed ‘stabwings’ for their thin, knife-shaped flight feathers flew by overhead, crying shrilly as they passed.

“Yeah,” Naomi eventually agreed, stifling another yawn. She made a little frown as a question occurred to her. “Tom, we’re going to have sex again, right? It wasn’t *just* a yesterday thing?”

Tom met her gaze and answered, plainly and truthfully, “Of course we will, Naomi. I wouldn't want it any other way.”

The little frown cleared instantly. “When?” Naomi asked, smiling sweetly.

She can't seriously want to do it again right *now*? Tom thought in disbelief. “Tonight?” he suggested. 

“Okay,” came Naomi's ready assent. To Tom’s relief she didn't sound disappointed. I must have read her wrong after all. 

Part of him had expected things to be more awkward after their first time, but instead it felt like some long-standing tension between them had been resolved. Even so, she really *is* incredible, he marveled. I certainly didn’t bounce back from *my* first time so quickly.

“So what are we doing today?” Naomi queried again. 

By now, Tom had it figured out. “Let’s call it a half day,” he began, “since we've got some chores that *need* to be done, like tending the garden. We also need to gather more pelons and refill the water tank. After that we can do whatever we want. What would you say about going for a walk?”

Naomi’s brow creased. “You mean exploring again?” She sounded less than thrilled.

Tom shook his head. “No, sweetie, just a walk. We’ll pick a direction and go only for as long as we want to, then head back home. Just to relax, not to explore.”

“Oh.” Naomi mulled it over briefly. “I like that idea better.” Then a yawn hit, this one too deep to stifle. “Can we take a nap first?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart," Tom agreed affably. “*After* the chores.”

The nap had been a lovely idea, Tom had to admit. By the time they had gathered food, fetched water, and weeded the garden, he too had felt ready to fall over. After putting away their tools, they'd simply puddled onto the soft grass together, Naomi’s head at rest in his lap, Tom’s fingers entwined in her warm, sunkissed hair.

When he awoke a couple hours later, Tom felt surprisingly refreshed. Naomi, who’d been awake for a bit already, appeared similarly re-energized. They set about on their walk, heading straight west, past the small stream where they’d pitched camp on the day of the crash. It was their most thoroughly mapped area, a pleasant stretch of woodland that offered varied terrain without being particularly challenging to traverse.

“Tom?” Naomi called to him as he was making his way down a gently sloped ridge, a few meters ahead of her. He slowed to let her catch up. “You know how we’ve been trying to figure out names for all the animals? I realized we forgot something important.”

“What’s that, sweetie?” Tom replied, hiding a smile. He’d encouraged her recent naming craze as much as he could, finding it both endearing and a good way to occupy her time. She took it *very* seriously though, and he made sure to treat it as such.

“The planet,” Naomi stated, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Planets where people live are supposed to have names, and *we* live here now. So we need to come up with a name for it.”

She’s beginning to come squarely to terms with the fact we’re stuck here, Tom reflected, the notion making him feel both relieved and a little sad. “Good point,” he said. “Did you have something in mind?”

Naomi looked mildly peeved. “No,” she confessed. “I kept trying to think of a good name while I waited for you to wake up, but I don’t like any of the ones I came up with. I was hoping *you* might have an idea.”

Tom considered this for a moment. “Not immediately, but two heads are better than one. How about we try to come up with one together?” 

Naomi perked up immediately at this, and Tom began to reason out loud as they resumed their walk. “A good planet name should tell you something about its characteristics. What do we know about this world so far?”

“It’s weird?” Naomi posited. “But that’s no good for a name.” She grinned. "I don't want to live on ‘Planet Weird’.”

“Neither do I,” agreed Tom, with a laugh to go with her grin. “Anything else you can think of to describe it?”

“It’s got two suns,” Naomi mused, “and the weather is really nice almost all the time. Could we call it something like, um, ‘Sunnyworld’?”

Tom made sure not to show the amusement he felt. Naomi was a very smart kid, but she was still a kid, and not all her ideas for names were good ones. 

Besides, they had good reason not to name the planet after its weather. “We’ve only been here for a month. We don’t know what the weather’s like all year round,” he pointed out. “Maybe in winter it rains radioactive frogs.”

This made Naomi laugh, and Tom continued, “I like what you said about the two suns, though. The way they rise and set, one chasing after another, is quite unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Maybe-”

“Tandem!” Naomi blurted out so suddenly it spurred Tom to stop in his tracks and look at her. Her face was filled with the powerful excitement specific to a clever ten-year old who believes she’s solved a difficult problem.

“It means something like, two people working together,” Naomi explained, as if to teach him the word. “That’s what the suns are doing, isn’t it? Working together? And um…” She blushed a little. “It’s for the two of us, too. We’re like a tandem, right, Tom?” 

Her small hand reached for his, and Tom gripped it firmly. “Of course we are, sweetheart,” he agreed. “Tandem is a great name.”

Naomi gifted him one of those brilliant smiles that never failed to fill his heart with unbridled joy. She raised up onto her tip-toes, and they shared a soft kiss.

They’d come to a halt right where the woods gave way to a rock-strewn clearing whose ground had fissured into a great gash. Last time, they’d come at this place from a different direction, and seeing nothing that would warrant an arduous crossing, had simply circled around it instead.

Where they stood now, on higher ground, afforded Tom a better view of the ravine. It wasn’t *that* large, perhaps a hundred meters in length and twenty in width at its narrowest point. It was deep for its size, though, its bottom not quite visible to him.

Its sharply inclined slopes looked treacherous, a mix of gravel and jagged rocks. A few gnarled trees and hardy tufts of grass had colonized where they could find purchase, but most of the ravine appeared bare and lifeless.

“What do you say we head back home?” Tom proposed. “We’ve gone pretty far, and I’m starting to get hungry.”

“‘Kay, Tom,” Naomi replied, still beaming brightly. “I’m tired, though. Can I ride on your shoulders?”

“Sure you can, sweetie.” Whenever she smiled like that at him, Tom had a hard time denying Naomi anything. “Just for a while though,” he added. “Not the entire way.”

Naomi held out her arms and Tom hoisted her off the ground. Instead of setting her down on him though, he spun her around several times, causing her to first shriek and then giggle uncontrollably. Finally, he planted her legs on his shoulders, then waited for her to collect herself.

Naomi’s laughter tapered off and she relaxed against the back of his head with a satisfied murmur. Tom was just about to begin the journey home when she suddenly exclaimed, “Tom, I think I see something! Down in the ravine.”

She went silent and Tom opened his mouth to ask what she’d seen, but she preempted him. 

“Tom, is that… a ship?!”