Tom walked down the hall in between Chakotay and B’Elanna, Harry trailing behind as they talked over plans for the new dilithium refnining, not to mention the polypherinide that they were going to need, and soon too. Suddenly Tom’s eyes lit up.
“Do you see what I see?” he leered at Harry, then jerked his head down the hall where Sara stood quietly, tapping at a wall console.
“Uh…what’s so special about that?” his eyebrows raised. Like most of the Starfleet people, he was not only leery of Sara’s abilities, but quietly dispassionate that she did not belong where she was.
“Simple. One girl in need of serious laughter, one man ready to give it.” Tom wasn’t giving up.
“Yeah right,” B’Elanna cracked. “Getting her to smile is about as easy as getting Tuvok to do the same.”
“You just aren’t taking the right approach.” Tom paused. “Hey Sara!”
“Yeah what?” she knew they were there. She even knew what Tom was planning, but didn’t really care to say so.
“Yeah what? Getting rather informal around here, aren’t we?” Chakotay’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Come on, cut her some slack." Tom admonished the older man, whose eyebrows now raised, wrinkling his tattoo even more. "Come here Sara.”
Dutifully the girl walked the remaining distance. “Ever noticed that the ceilings are higher here on Voyager than they were on the Maquis ship?” Tom asked her.
“So what of it?” Sara shrugged.
“So…that means I can do…this!” Without much warning Tom grabbed her around her slim waist, and small as she was he was able to toss her high into the air almost as though it was nothing.
Sara squealed, causing expressions of shock on the faces of one commander, one ensign and one lieutenant. Tom repeated his actions, and this time full-fledged laughter rang out from her. When all was said and done, he held her firmly, allowing her to straddle him like a toddler, his hands firmly beneath her giving ample support as her hands clenched his shoulders.
“How’d you like that one?” he tickled her slightly, just enough to make her squirm, along her ribs that were still far too protruding in her body. Sara nodded, and smiled happily at him.
“Are you eating?” he asked curiously.
She nodded again without saying a word.
“Man,” B’Elanna broke in, looking at the pair. “I wish I could be fifteen and get carried around like that.”
“Are you strong enough to hold her?” Tom asked.
“Me? No way. Hand her to Starfleet.” B’Elanna begged off. Harry’s eyes widened.
“What…er…I…she’ll…I’ll drop her!” Harry went from stark white to beet red in a matter of seconds. Tom was forever trying to put things off on him. This was not going to be one of them.
“Oh come on Harry, she’s not that heavy.” Even Sara looked dubious, as Harry finally in exasperation reached out and took her firmly under the armpits. Between the two of them she was transferred in less than a second.
“Wow…you were right,” he shifted the girl a bit so that her knees didn’t press so hard into his hips. For a young man, he was almost as strong as Tom, if not more so, and could grip her a bit easier in a different position. Sara gazed into his coal-black eyes with dispassion and indifference, but there was a slight gleam of something else in there. Harry had to remind himself that he was holding a girl of fifteen that was a telepath to boot.
“So now what do I do?” Harry asked.
“Walk, Starfleet. One foot in front of the other.” B’Elanna teased.
“Ha ha.” Harry responded in sarcasm, trailing behind the others again, Chakotay casting looks over his shoulder that were a mix of amusement and something he couldn’t identify, as they entered the mess hall. Sara flinched and tensed in his arms, the presence of so many people slightly hard to bear on her telepathic senses.
Tom had managed to get to a replicator. “Computer,” he cast a look at Sara, who blinked somberly back, “one chocolate chip cookie.”
The normal sound of something appearing out of thin air and it was present, a solidly-shaped round cookie, dark dots of chips present, about the size of Tom's palm. The rest looked at it strangely.
“Here,” he extended it to Sara, who Harry put down on the deck. She took the cookie and looked at it with the eyes of a child on Christmas morning, licking her lips.
After a moment she looked back up at Tom. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now scoot!” He laughed, slapping her affectionately on the lower back, propelling her towards the doors. She chuckled as she walked through the doors.
“How do you do it?” B’Elanna asked, shaking her head, moving towards the foray of food – if it could be called that – Neelix had set out on the counter.
“Easy,” he replied, shrugging. “I treat her like she’s normal.”
