Note: I literally didn't know Tom's mom was alive until i was already writing this. Just don't think about it.
Tom didn't believe in soulmates. He did, once. Before his mom died.
He can remember laying in his bed while she read him some bedtime story- something cheesy, where the main characters lived happily ever after, and the hero of the story called the love interest their soulmate.
She'd looked down at him curiously as she thought, shutting the book closed. In the moment, he was so sure it was such a powerful thing that she was having trouble putting it into words.
As he grew up, it felt more like she was trying to make it feel more magical than it was.
“A soulmate… is like your best friend. Someone who will stick by you through everything. Who would drop just about anything for you. Who loves you just as much as you love them. Like your dad and me. You just… click.”
He'd scrunched his face up, disgusted at the idea of love, of his mom and dad kissing, and she'd laughed at him, putting him to bed for the night.
It was about a year later, when he was in the hospital, watching doctors try and call his father while other doctors tried frantically to keep his mom from succumbing to her injuries from the hovercar crash, when the illusion of soulmates started to fade.
Most of the girls he dated were nice, sure. But he’d never really felt that click. Nothing that special. He liked them. They got along. That was enough.
None of them stayed, either. Which, when he landed himself in the penal colony, he figured that was for the best. Nobody to miss, nobody to miss him. Admiral Paris certainly didn’t.
Being recruited for Voyager didn’t really change any of those thoughts. And aside from Harry, no one was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt anyway.
He first met you after the dust settled- once they were far enough from the explosion and the Ocampa homeworld that everyone could breathe and settle into the new normal.
With both Harry and B’Elanna putting in extra hours helping on necessary repairs, he was taking his dinner alone. Some awful leola root stew that he could barely stomach, but he had to be careful with his rations. He might end up needing something big. Or Neelix could cook something even worse.
He shivered at the thought.
He’d been pulled from his loathing musings by the clink of a tray being set down at his table. When he glanced up, he met your eyes. You were dressed in a yellow-topped uniform, one gold pip pinned to your collar.
“Lieutenant.” You’d taken your seat, looking down at your tray. “Enjoying tonight’s menu?”
“Enjoying is a stretch.” He’d poked at it, listening to the way you snorted at him. “It’s erring on the side of edible.”
“Surely that’s dramatic.” He’d blanched as you took a big bite with your spoon, paling quickly and trying not to cough. “It’s- it’s quite edible, actually.”
He’d almost laughed then, wholly amused with the way you were trying to convince him, or maybe even yourself, that you could eat the dish no problem. It was almost comical.
You’d offered him a smile, busy taking a drink from your water. “Hope I’m not interrupting your brooding.”
“Yes, brooding. It’s all you’ve done since you arrived on board.”
“Have you been watching me?”
“No.” You snorted. “No, this corner just always has this awful foreboding energy coming from it.”
“Foreboding?” He’s incredulous now, and rightfully so. “It’s not foreboding.”
“Why do you think the tables around you are empty?”
“Because,” he’d leaned forwards conspiratorially, “no one wants to be associated with an add-on from a penal colony.”
“Bah.” You tried another bite of your soup with a frown. “As if that makes you any worse than anyone else here.”
“Makes me worse than a good chunk of the people here.” He’d almost smiled as he leaned back.
“Maquis, Starfleet,” you’d shrugged, “I don’t see why it matters. As long as we’re all trying to get home, it’s all the same to me.”
He raised a brow at you. Novel thought. “Not everyone sees it that way.”
“They should. What’s the point in fighting amongst ourselves when we just need to get back in one piece?”
You’d talked together much too long, only pulling away from the conversation when Neelix dimmed the mess hall lights, looking a tad embarrassed. He’d learned quite a bit about you- you were security personnel. You’d done your physical training in America. Your family was very close, and you, like most of Voyager, were dreading the long ride.
You shot him a smile as you got up, taking your tray to dispose of it. “I’ll see you around, Paris.”
You were gone before he could think of a reason to walk you to your quarters.
The next time he sees you is at Sandrine’s. You’d come in off-duty, while they were keeping the program running to people to have breaks as often as they needed. He’d been busy- surely you had too. He’d seen you around, sure, but you hadn’t really had time to chat.
He smiled, ordering a couple of drinks from the lady of the bar before coming over, drinks in hand, handing you one. “Welcome to Sandrine’s.”
You’d looked down at the drink skeptically. “What is this?”
“Sex on the beach.” Your ears flushed, but the look on your face didn’t change. “I figured a drink where you don’t really taste the liquor was safe.”
You nodded, taking a long drink before looking up at him again. “So this is Sandrine’s.”
He swept his arm out, presenting the space to you. “Plenty of pool tables and darts.”
He scoffed. “Do I play pool? I did my physical training in the same city as this place, of course I do.”
“Play me.” You headed for an empty pool table, and he stifled a grin.
“I won’t go easy on you.”
“I’d be offended if you tried.”
You’d practically mopped the floor with him. “Ah, I let you win.”
“Bullshit,” you laughed at him, a sweet, mirthful sound, and all he could think is that, God, he wanted to hear that again.
“A rematch then. Once you fetch us a couple more drinks.” You began re-racking the table, and he grinned, setting the pool cue down and heading to order a couple more drinks from Sandrine.
He almost jumped, glancing at Harry. “...An Ensign. In tactical.”
“You’re spending a lot of time together.”
“It’s a couple rounds of pool.”
“Is that the same Ensign you spent hours with in the mess?”
He flushed a little, trying to shake it away as he took the drinks. “You’re looking into it too much, Harry.” He motioned back to the dart board. “And you’re losing.”
He darted away while Harry’s attention was turned, bringing drinks back over. “Hope you don’t mind a plain screwdriver.”
You took it with a little smile. “Thank you. Your break.”
“Well now you’re just getting lucky.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Paris.” You grinned at him, pushing some stray hair back as you checked the time. “I gotta ditch.”
He checked the time. Oh. It was.
He looked up, but once again, you were gone before he could say much more.
But, unlike the first time, you started to seek him out more often. Or maybe he was seeking you out. He wasn’t really sure. It didn’t really matter either.
You were wedging yourself in wherever you could- mostly mealtime of course, but slowly, you started hanging out outside of the mess. First the holodeck. Then, his quarters. Never yours- you’d told him once you didn’t like having people in your space all the time. You’d never offered, and he never asked. He liked having you in his space, anyway. You just sort of… clicked, it felt like.
You’d said as much, once. Huddled on the opposite side of the couch from him, wearing casual clothes, the first day off duty you’d both had line up. You’d agreed to one Scooby-Doo movie marathon, and you seemed to be enjoying yourself.
“You know,” he’d turned his head to look at you as you spoke, “I actually like having you around.” Your tone sounded like this was some novel concept.
He’d barked a laugh at you, shaking his head. “Is that shocking or something?”
“Just didn’t expect to like you that much.”
Your eyes were trained on the viewscreen, so you probably didn’t see the look on his face when his heart skipped a full beat. Honestly, it wasn’t as romantic a feeling as he thought it would be. He felt a little like he was dying.
“Well, get used to it. Everyone likes me that much.”
“Right.” You peeked at him, looking much too amused for his liking. “Name one person-”
He opened his mouth to speak.
He gave you a mock-offended look. “B’Elanna.”
Later, he’d recognize the way you deflated, but in the moment, all he saw was the way you shrugged, returning your gaze to the movie. “Touche.”
You’d left as soon as that movie ended. He’d almost whined, since you were supposed to stay much longer- it was only 1700- but he didn’t, just walking you to the door and trying not to wilt at your terse goodbye.
It’s maybe a week later he decides he’s going to ask you on a date. He’s either got to try or he’ll lose his chance, he figures, and he’d rather say he tried.
That’s also the day you tell him about your date with Nozawa.
“A date? With Nozawa?” He scoffs, shaking his head. “All he does is spend time in the gym.”
“It’s nice to have a hobby,” you shrugged.
“Is pulling muscles a hobby?”
You swatted at his arm. “Be nice, Thomas, I’m telling you because I’m looking for support.”
“I’m being supportive. I’m just saying you could do better.”
You scoffed, shaking your head at him. “I have to go get ready.” You moved to get up from the table, and he felt a little empty.
“Have fun!” Harry called his encouragement after you before turning to look at him. “Dude. Really?”
“You know what. It’s not her fault you took too long to ask her out.”
He scoffed again, digging at his food.
“...But she could probably do better.”
It was just two hours later he opened the door to his quarters to see you, looking irritated. Your hair was… puffy, was how he’d describe it. You were wearing a shiny, halter top jumpsuit with flared legs.
“...What kind of date was that?”
“Disco.” You shoves past him into his quarters, taking his neat whiskey and downing it, despite his protests.
“What is up with you?” He asks, incredulous. “Was the date that bad?”
“It was boring.” You look at him, and, for a moment, he could swear you were about to hit him.
“I’ve never heard of a boring disco,” he tries, hoping to temper your irritation.
“He wouldn’t even dance with me.”
That takes him a minute to process, gears whirring in his brain as he looks you up and down. “Why would he even bring you to a disco then? I think dancing is, like, a given.” He moves past you, further into his quarters, retrieving you each a water, handing yours over as you thanked him.
“Beats me. And, I mean, the music is so loud in those things-”
“-Can’t even talk if you wanted to,” he finishes for you, sympathetic as he sits down on one side of his couch, motioning for you to sit.
He’s shocked when you sit directly beside him, leaning into his side.
“You feeling alright, butterscotch?” A nickname he’d settled on based purely on your yellow uniform.
“I’m just… this is so annoying.”
“Yeah, most boring dates are. You can probably just let him know it's not a good match.”
“Oh, I think he knows.” You sound miffed, and he looks down at you.
“I told him I was leaving because I was fucking bored.” He’s stunned by this revelation, giving you a doubtful look.
He stares at you for another few minutes, shaking his head. “Why would you say that?”
“No.” You roll your eyes.
“You know he’s gonna tell people you said that.”
“Word travels fast, small ship.”
“Your dating chances, totally squandered.”
“Or maybe I’ll get more interesting dates.”
“I could plan a more interesting date.”
There’s an odd stillness in the air as you turn to look up at him. “You could, could you?”
“Yeah. I’d at least dance with you. That gives me points over Nozawa already.”
“That’s the bare minimum.”
“I’d use saved up holodeck time and do something like a beach date. Get some ice cream, walk the shore… maybe push you in.”
You snort, shaking your head at him. “Pushing me in isn’t a good first date.”
“But you’d laugh.” He reaches to tuck some of your hair back. “I like your laugh. You’d laugh harder if I fell in with you.”
You lean towards his hand, and his eyes flick down towards your mouth. You pull up to kiss him, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders to hold you close, despite the briefness of the kiss.
“A date. Take me on one.” You give him a shove, and he laughs.
“Okay. Easy. How about tomorrow?”
“I thought you’d need some holodeck time saved up?”
“I’ve been saving up holodeck time to ask you on a date. Just say yes.”
Your face softens, and he can’t help grinning wider.
You pulled him in for another face, and he could almost hear something sort of click together in his head.
Maybe… maybe he could believe in soulmates. If it was you.
