It was poetry night, and for a change the small room was packed.
Though there was always a small group that showed up to listen to the
various compositions of their crewmates tonight was different.
The usual rumor mill had been in full force all week. No one knew
who started it and at the moment, no one cared. All they cared about
was the fact that it was true.
Seven had written a poem. Seven, one of two people who would be
least likely to even have an interest in poetry let alone any desire
to write it.
B'Elanna sat staring at the stage. She had heard the rumors and had
dismissed them as another group fantasy of a bored crew. When she
found the plain invitation card at her workstation, she had almost
dismissed that as well, until she had realized that the writing had
been Seven's. Six words and a signature and here she was waiting like
everyone else to see what was next. 'Come to the poetry reading
tonight. Seven'
No one wanted to miss this as the woman stood center stage and
cleared her throat.
Looking steadily at B'Elanna she began, "I call this…
'Whispers'.
And I'll whisper in your ear,
Knowing you'll never hear,
This is my only wish:
I only wish to know you:
Your past, present, and future.
The way you think and how you feel,
Your happy times and sad.
I only wish to look into your eyes:
Your spirit, body, and soul.
The way you look and how you love,
Your birth and life's breath.
I only wish for the chance to hold you:
Your warmth, softness, and breadth.
The way you smell and how you caress,
Your heartbeat and arms.
I only wish to make you smile:
Your laughter, lips, and tears.
The way you glow and how you light a room,
Your humor and your depth.
I only wish to be your love:
Your touch, kiss, and promise.
The way you wake and how you sleep,
Your husband and lover."
B'Elanna sat back in shock, was that really for her if not why would Seven invite her the way she had and stair at her the entire time. And what of the husband reference, she was with the exception of Samantha Wildman the only married woman on the ship, but how could seven love her? After all she had done?
B'Elanna's eyes filled with tears as she looked into Seven's from across the room, the look in Seven's eyes told her just as much as her words did that this poem was about her and that these feeling were true. B'Elanna turned her head as she felt a light tap on her shoulder.
Tom Paris stood beside his wife's chair with a saddened look upon his face; he had always known what B'Elanna had been blind to. Seven had loved B'Elanna for a long time now and how could he not know.
"She must know," B'Elanna spoke, "that I'm in love with you. Doesn't she."
A single tear fell from Tom's eye in sympathy, "yes, I believe she does, she's just learning to except it and at this point she feels that there will be no other for her in this life. And who knows she may be right, but I for one hope the hell she's wrong and that she will find someone who loves her as purely as she does you."
"So do I." She answered wrapping her arm around Tom's waist and leaning her head against his shoulder to cry for the sadness in Seven's eyes as they left together.
The End