Disclaimer: “In the beginning, Paramount created Star Trek: 
Voyager and everything pertaining unto it.” :-) William 
Shakespeare created “Romeo and Juliet” and everything etc.

Copyright 1997 by JoAnna Walsvik; all rights reserved and most of 
the lefts, too.  :-)  Distribute, archive, etc., but keep my name 
and the disclaimer attached. 

This story is dedicated to my English teacher, Ms. Tanya 
Neumiller, (who IS a Trekker, BTW) for making Shakespeare come 
alive!  :-)  THANKS, MS. NEUMILLER!! :-)

Author’s Note:  Warning:  This story contains Shakespearean 
material and (gasp!) *quotes from Shakespeare.* :-)  If you don’t 
like that kinda stuff, don’t read.  I myself am a huge fan of 
Shakespeare in general and “Romeo and Juliet” in particular.  
Hence this story.  If you think the idea of B’Elanna, Tom, and/or 
anyone else on Voyager doing Shakespeare is totally inconceivable, 
pretend it’s in a parallel universe. :-)  Also, good or bad 
feedback at jowalsvi@sendit.sendit.nodak.edu is very much 
appreciated!  Oh, BTW; this has nothing to do with the movie 
version of “Romeo and Juliet.”  I have seen the movie, and it’s 
excellent, but this story is based on the original play.

************************************************************
Summary:  Tom Paris and B’Elanna Torres star in the Federation 
Starship Voyager’s production of “Romeo and Juliet.” Written by 
William Shakespeare; produced and directed by Tom Paris. This is 
in B’Elanna’s POV.  (Point Of View, ppl, NOT “Persistence Of 
Vision” god forbid :-)  No offense to anyone who liked the 
episode.)
************************************************************

Romeo and Juliet: Voyager Style (Voy, P/T, PG)
by JoAnna Walsvik
“Romeo and Juliet” written by William Shakespeare
Part 1/2

     “You want me to *what*?”  Had I heard Tom right?
     “Be in my play.”  The man was serious.  He was actually 
serious.
     “Paris...I can’t act,” I protested.  I walked across 
Engineering to another console, hoping he’d get the drift and 
leave me alone.
     He didn’t.  “I think you *can* act,” he countered, following 
me.  “I’ve seen you give excuses to Freddy Bristow that were so 
convincing...hell, even *I* almost believed them.”
     “How did you know that?!”  I demanded without thinking.  How 
could he have known that I gave excuses to Bristow?  Unless...he 
had been checking up on me, to see if I was really interested in 
Freddy or not.  Damn the man.
     “I have my ways.”  That cocky grin of his arrived in full 
force.  “So, will you?  Please?”
     I sighed.  Paris had shown up in Engineering after his shift, 
yakking about some play he was putting on, a mini-theater of sorts 
to boost morale.  Neelix had given him the idea after reading up 
on forms of entertainment in the ship’s database.  Paris had 
apparently claimed it as his pet project, claiming he had played 
the lead three years in a row at his school play.  I didn’t know 
if he was just shooting his mouth off or not, but frankly, I 
didn’t care.  I thought about going to the play once it was put 
on, depending who was in it, but to actually participate and act 
in it had never crossed my mind.  I had wanted to act in my school 
play when I was a freshman in high school, but the drama teacher 
had merely given me an odd look and said, “I’m sorry, but we don’t 
have any parts available.”  Bull.  She just hadn’t wanted a 
Klingon in her little production.  Ever since then I had stayed 
far away from anything pertaining to drama and the theater.  But 
now Paris had shown up and asked *me* to act in one.
     “What’s the play?”  I asked.  Perhaps I could consider it, 
depending on the play.  I’d probably be a small, walk-on character 
anyway.
     “‘Romeo and Juliet.’  And I want *you* to be Juliet.”
     “What?!”  I yelped, thankfully not loud enough so everyone 
could hear me.  I had taken a course on great Earth literature in 
high school, and I was familiar with the play.  I had liked it, 
actually.  The Capulets and Montagues reminded me of humans and 
Klingons with their infernal feud.  “That’s preposterous, 
Lieutenant.  Me, Juliet?  And who, may I ask, is Romeo?”
     Tom had the decency to look embarrassed.  “Well, uh, I am.  I 
asked the captain to be Juliet,” he added hastily, “and Chakotay 
to be Romeo, but both of them declined.  Said they didn’t like 
acting in plays, just watching them.  So, I took the part of 
Romeo.  And...I want you to be Juliet.”
     “Paris, are you crazy?”  I said, looking around to make sure 
no one had heard his absolutely farfetched request.  Luckily, 
Engineering was almost deserted; Gamma shift was just ending.  “A 
Klingon Juliet?  That’s insane.  It’s more than insane, it’s 
awful.”
     “I saw a Klingon version of Romeo and Juliet once,”  Paris 
said.  Gods, he was stubborn.  “I liked it.  A lot.  Aw, come on, 
B’Elanna.  Just go to rehearsals for a few days. If you don’t like 
it, you can drop out and I’ll ask Megan Delaney to be Juliet.  She 
asked me, anyway.”
     Sudden anger flared up in my chest.  Megan Delaney?  As 
Juliet?  Why, that little...
     *B’Elanna, are you jealous?*  my mind suddenly asked.  
     *No, I’m not,* I told it.  *I just...Megan Delaney is blond, 
and Juliet should be brunette.  That’s all.*
     *Yeah, right,* the unconvinced part of me said.
     “All right, Paris,”  I said out loud.  “I’ll do it.  But I 
can drop out if I don’t like it.”
     “Great!” he said enthusiastically, handing me a PADD.  “Here 
are rehearsal times.  Your part is in the database.  Oh, and just 
to add a bit of mystery, I’ve asked all actors to keep their parts 
secret from the rest of the crew so on opening night, no one will 
know what we’re doing or who is who until the curtain rises.”
     I shook my head at him.  “Lieutenant Paris, you have a warped 
mind.”
     “I know,” he said cheerfully.  “That’s part of my charm.”  
And he was gone.

     A few days later I stood outside Holodeck 2, where rehearsals 
were being held.  *What am I getting myself into?* I silently 
asked.  Had I actually consented to act in this play?  What if 
everyone else thought a Klingon Juliet was a horrible idea?
     *Get a hold of yourself, Torres.  You don’t care what other 
people think, remember?*  I decided to take my own advice.  After 
drawing a deep breath, I entered the holodeck.
     “Hi, B’Elanna!  Right on time!”  Tom said cheerfully.  The 
program running was magnificent, I had to admit.  Rows and rows of 
red velvet chairs under a giant rotunda displaying scenes from -- 
what else -- Romeo and Juliet.   The stage was enormous, complete 
with an orchestra pit in the front.  And red velvet curtains to 
match the chairs.  Not bad, actually.       
     “Let’s get this show on the road,” I said to him. “I don’t 
have all day, you know.”
     Tom didn’t even flinch.  “Okay, everyone, may I have your 
attention, please!”  he shouted.  The friendly chatter in the 
holodeck ceased, and everyone turned expectantly towards him.  
     “First, I want to thank everyone for participating in this.  
I hope it will, as Neelix suggests, boost morale around here.  
Now, I’m sure you want to know who is playing whom, so let’s get 
down to business.”
     “Although he’s not here at the moment, the Chorus’s part will 
be done by Lieutenant Commander Tuvok.  Playing Friar Lawrence: 
Ensign Chell.”  I grinned.  Tom had made a good choice in picking 
the rotund Bolian to play the friar.
     “Playing Mercutio: Ensign Walter Baxter.  Playing Paris: 
Although *I* do have the best name for it, the part of Paris will 
be played by Ensign Harry Kim.”
     I couldn’t conceal my surprise at this.  Harry was in the 
play?  I looked around for him and spied him near Tom, grinning 
modestly.  
     “The Nurse: Lieutenant Sue Nicoletti,” Tom continued. “Lady 
Capulet: Ensign Catherine Henley. Lord Capulet: Ensign Geron.”  
     Geron?  He was one of the shyest people I had ever met, and 
he was going to perform in a play?  Yes, there he was; standing 
next to Dalby and looking slightly embarrassed, but nonetheless 
happy with his part.  Hmm.  Will miracles never cease.
     “Lord Montague: Aaron Dalby.  Lady Montague: Ensign Megan 
Delaney.”  Megan Delaney?  I thought Paris said he was going to 
ask *her* to be Juliet.  She must have taken a lesser part after 
*I* got Juliet.  I couldn’t help but feel a small sense of jealous 
satisfaction.
     *But you’re not jealous, remember?* my mind taunted.
     *Oh, shut up,* I told it.  
     “Benvolio: Ensign Eddie Black.  Gregory: Lieutenant Ian 
Manning. Sampson: Ensign Tony Jarvin.  Abraham: Ensign Shai Ayala.  
Tybalt: -- “  Before Tom could speak, a hologram shimmered into 
existence.  “ -- the doctor,”  Tom finished.
     The EMH program was grinning smugly at his sudden appearance.  
I wasn’t surprised that he was taking part in this sort of thing.  
The doctor loved to get attention in any way, shape, or form.  
     “The rest of the parts, except for the main two, of course, 
will be played by holographic characters.  And, now for the parts 
you’ve all been waiting for...”  Paris paused dramatically, 
grinning wickedly at everyone.
     “Come on, Paris, out with it!”  Harry Kim shouted good-
naturedly.
     “Romeo will be played by...Lieutenant Tom Paris.”  
     Groans and scoffs echoed throughout the holodeck.  “Why am I 
not surprised,”  Harry remarked loud enough for all to hear.  I 
had to stifle a giggle at his wry tone.
     “Hey, I wanted to be Paris.  I asked Chakotay to be Romeo, 
but he wouldn’t unless the Captain was Juliet,”  Paris protested 
slyly.  More laughs rang out.  “And she declined.  So, Juliet will 
instead be played by...Lieutenant B’Elanna Torres.”
     Instant silence.  I saw everyone’s eyes turn toward me, and I 
could feel my cheeks start to turn scarlet.  “What?”  I asked 
defensively.  “Klingons can act too, you know.”
     Dubious glances met my retort, and I could feel myself start 
to get angry.  Damn Paris and his stupid play!  I would have quit 
if not for the fact I wanted to show up Megan Delaney.  
     “Okay, everyone, let’s get started,”  Paris called out, 
taking the attention away from me -- a gesture I appreciated.  “I 
assume you all got your parts from the database?”
     Nods and murmurs of confirmation met his inquiry.
     “Great.  Okay, we have some members of the crew who, although 
not acting, play a crucial part.  Kes will be helping with 
costumes -- “  Kes smiled in acknowledgment, “ -- and Neelix will 
be helping with props and such.”  Neelix, standing next to Kes, 
nodded to everyone.  “Now, let’s start with the first scene....”

     The next few days I threw myself into my part with a vigor 
that surprised even myself.  Now I was striving to prove myself 
not to a prejudiced drama teacher, but to the crew of Voyager 
herself.  I’d show them that Klingons *could* act, no matter what 
they whispered behind my back.
     Paris had deliberately broken up the crew into small groups 
to rehearse every time we met.  “That way,” he explained, “we’ll 
get things done a lot faster, because everyone has different 
shifts, and no one will feel too self-conscious at first.”  I 
suspected it was a ploy to get alone with me, for we rehearsed all 
of Romeo and Juliet’s scenes first.  Paris especially wanted to 
rehearse the balcony scene, and I knew what his motives were.  
Luckily, I was able to keep him at bay with a few well-timed 
snarls.
     But, I have to admit, I *enjoyed* acting once I got into it.  
After a while, I stopped thinking about proving myself and started 
thinking about having fun.  I discovered I actually was good at it 
-- when I played Juliet, I *became* Juliet.  I was no longer 
B’Elanna Torres, a half-Klingon Maquis rebel turned Starfleet 
engineer, but Juliet Capulet, a young teenager in love with a boy 
her parents forbade her to see, and so in love she was willing to 
die if she couldn’t have him.
     Tom surprised me too.  I guess he hadn’t been bluffing when 
he bragged about his roles in his high school plays.  Tom was 
*good*.  He became Romeo just like I became Juliet.
     I guess Tom had carried some doubts about my acting abilities 
at first, too, but when we had our first rehearsal together, I 
changed his mind.
     We had done the scene at Capulet’s house, and were beginning 
on the balcony scene.  Since we had gotten through the ball scene 
all right, Tom thought I was an okay actress, but nothing to get 
excited about -- until I began Juliet’s speech on the balcony:

JULIET: ‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What’s Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What’s in a name? that which we call a rose 
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee 
Take all myself.

     I threw myself into that part.  I lamented, with tears on my 
face, the sorrow of my lover being of a rival family.  I wished 
with all my heart that Romeo was not a Montague.  I begged him to 
change his name.
     When I finished, Paris was staring at me, his mouth wide 
open.  “Oh...my...God,” he gaped incredulously.  “That was...that 
was...totally amazing!  How -- I thought you said you *couldn’t* 
act?!”
     “I’m not that good,” I murmured, purposefully demure.  It 
sounds conceited, but I *was* good, and I knew it.  
     “Yes -- yes, oh yes you are!” he exclaimed.  “My God, 
B’Elanna, where did you learn to act like that?  You’re 
spectacular!”
     “My mother was in Klingon Opera,” I answered.  “I guess it 
runs in the family.”
     “This play is going to be fantastic if you do the rest of the 
parts the way you just did,”  Paris declared.  “I can’t *believe* 
that idiotic drama teacher of yours didn’t give you a part!”  I 
had previously told him the reason of my initial reluctance to be 
in the play.
     “Thanks, Paris,” I said.  I was actually feeling quite 
pleased with myself.  “Let’s keep going.  You haven’t seen 
anything yet.”
     The rest of the crew showed much the same amazement once we 
all got together for group rehearsals.  Once again, I did the 
balcony scene with Paris.  I have to admit, I forgot all about the 
rest of the cast, and became Juliet.  The sound of applause once 
we were finished snapped me out of my character.  I could hardly 
believe what I was seeing.  The entire cast was on their feet in a 
standing ovation.
     “Good grief, B’Elanna!”  Harry Kim shouted. “Why the hell 
didn’t you *tell* us you could act like that?!”
     “I *told* you Klingons could act,”  I called back smugly.  
“Besides, my mother was in Klingon Opera.  It runs in the family.  
But Paris wasn’t half bad either.”
     In fact, none of the cast was half bad.  Frankly, I was 
surprised at the talent we had on this ship.   Everyone did 
fabulous with their parts; even Geron, whom I hadn’t expected to 
do very well at all.  When he and I rehearsed the scene where 
Juliet objects to marrying Paris, he said his lines with a vigor 
that surprised even myself.

CAPULET: Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife.
How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks? 
Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest,
Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?

JULIET: Not proud, you have; but thankful, that you have:
Proud can I never be of what I hate; 
But thankful even for hate, that is meant love.

CAPULET: How now, how now, chop-logic! What is this?
‘Proud,’ and ‘I thank you,’ and ‘I thank you not;’
And yet ‘not proud,’ mistress minion, you,
Thank me no thankings, nor, proud me no prouds,
But fettle your fine joints ‘gainst Thursday next,
To go with Paris to Saint Peter’s Church,
Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.
Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage!
You tallow-face!

     Geron actually screamed the last few lines in my face.  The 
first time we rehearsed, I stopped, and, instead of waiting for 
Cathy Henley to say her line, fell to my knees and said, “I’m 
sorry, Geron!  I’ll marry him!  Just don’t hurt me!”
     Geron got a sheepish look on his face, and he looked around 
at the other members of the cast.  All were laughing fit to kill 
at my ad-libbing.  “Sorry, Lieutenant,” he said to me, a blush on 
his face.   “I guess I got carried away.”
     “Don’t be sorry, Geron,” I told him.  “That was really 
*good*.  Do it like that every time, okay?...of course, I’ll stick 
to the script!”
     Geron grinned.  “Aaron’s been helping me with my acting 
skills.” 
     “You wouldn’t believe how much he’s improved,”  Aaron Dalby 
called out.  “Good job, Geron.”
     The rest of the cast quickly chimed in with their 
congratulations, and Geron left rehearsal that night the happiest 
Bajoran on Voyager.
     Something happened the day before opening night that was 
somewhat of a shock.  We had just finished with the rehearsal, and 
I was standing in a corner by myself, doing some last-minute 
practicing, when I looked up and saw Megan Delaney standing in 
front of me.  “Um, Lieutenant,” she said, looking somewhat 
embarrassed, “you know...I just wanted to tell you...when we -- 
the rest of the cast, I mean -- first heard you were going to be 
Juliet, we -- well, we kinda thought that you’d ruin the whole 
play.  But -- but now -- we think you’re going to be the best 
person in it.  Good job.”  She held out her hand to me, a blush 
darkening her face.
     For a moment, I just stared.  I couldn’t believe what I was 
hearing.  Megan Delaney telling *me* that I was the best actress 
in the play?  For a moment, I had an intense feeling of deja vu.  
This scene almost mirrored the one where, a few years ago, Carey 
had congratulated me on my promotion to chief engineer.  
     “Thanks,” I finally said, shaking her hand.  “You -- you’re a 
great actress, too, Ensign.”  We still hadn’t gotten around to a 
first name basis, despite our many hours of rehearsing together.
     Megan rushed off, and I was left to stare after her in 
amazement.  This play was really beginning to change her -- or was 
it me that had done the changing?

     

Here’s Part 2!  Original disclaimers apply.  Enjoy!

Romeo and Juliet: Voyager Style (Voy, P/T, PG)
by JoAnna Walsvik
“Romeo and Juliet” written by William Shakespeare
Part 2/2

       Finally, it was opening night!  We were actually doing two 
shows, one tonight and the other tomorrow night, for the people 
who were on duty during our first performance.  Captain Janeway 
and Chakotay were coming to the first performace, Captain Janeway 
having declared that she “couldn’t wait a second longer to see 
it.”   Of course, the captain couldn’t come without Chakotay.  
Luckily, we were traveling through a relatively safe area of 
space, so it was all right to leave Lieutenant Hawkins in command, 
since the rest of the senior staff were in the play.  Tuvok, 
however, was heading to the bridge the moment his part was done.  
Typical Vulcan.
     The theater Tom had created in his program came complete with 
dressing rooms, which is where I found myself at 1800 hours, an 
hour before we were scheduled to begin.  Kes distributed the 
costumes to the cast, but for some reason she came to help me get 
dressed.  Neelix, she said, was with Tom.  “We have to give 
special attention to the stars,” she told me, those big blue eyes 
of hers sparkling.
     I hadn’t seen my costume yet, so I was eager for Kes to show 
it to me.  She lifted it out of the box, and I couldn’t help but 
gasp.  
     The dress was pure white, in Shakespearean style, with gentle 
puffs and folds and shirring everywhere you looked.  Cobwebby lace 
lined the bodice, delicate white stuff with just a hint of gold.   
There were matching white slippers, soft lacy things that would 
muffle every step I took.
     “Kes!  I can’t wear that!”  I said.  I couldn’t.  That dress 
was for *Juliet*, and I was just...well, B’Elanna Torres.  
B’Elanna Torres couldn’t wear a dress like that.  It was too 
dainty and feminine looking, something I was anything but.
     “Yes, you can,”  Kes said gently.  “I searched the computer’s 
database for every costume used for Juliet, and I knew this one 
would be perfect for you.  Now, go put it on.”
     Her tone was polite, but firm, and one that wouldn’t listen 
to any protests.  So, reluctantly, I put it on.  I have to admit, 
I loved it.  It was so different from the rough material of my 
uniform or the plainness of my civilian clothes.  This dress 
was...well, it sounds stupid, but it was *elegant*.  I’d never 
owned or worn a dress like this before.  Klingons didn’t wear 
clothes like this, and at the Academy I never really had a reason 
to dress up.  And in the Maquis...formal wear wasn’t a 
requirement, to say the least.  I, the homely Klingon, actually 
felt kind of...pretty.
     “B’Elanna!  You look wonderful!”  Kes squealed.  “You’re 
beautiful!”
     “Thanks,” I murmured.  I could feel my face turning crimson.  
I wasn’t used to such lavish praise, especially from someone like 
Kes, who could probably manage to look lovely wearing a burlap 
bag.        “And the final touch...”  Kes was lifting something 
else from the box.  
     No. No, no, no, no, no.  I could NOT wear that.  “Kes, I 
can’t,” I tried to say, but it came out in a whisper. 
     Kes was holding a wreath of flowers in her hand; *real* 
flowers that she must have grown in her hydroponics bay.  I didn’t 
recognize what kind of flowers they were, but they resembled a 
cross between carnations and daisies -- with a little touch of a 
rose.  Trailing from the back were two exquisite white silk 
ribbons.
     “Nonsense.  Of course you can,”  Kes said, fastening the 
wreath to my hair.  Standing back to look at me, she clapped her 
hands, delight in her eyes and coloring her voice.  “B’Elanna, you 
are absolutely gorgeous.  Just look at yourself!”
     I turned to look in the mirror, and couldn’t hold back a gasp 
of amazement.  Was that *me* standing there, a beautiful young 
lady with a blush on her cheek?  I couldn’t believe how much the 
clothes changed me.  I looked years younger, more like I had in my 
late teens.  I barely even recognized myself!  Then, ever so 
slowly, a tiny smile appeared on my face.  I couldn’t help it.  
For the first time in my life, I felt pretty.
     “Kes...thank you,” I whispered.  “I...I don’t know what to 
say.”
     “I didn’t do anything,” she assured me.  “*You’re* the one 
who’s so beautiful.”
     Voices from outside the door snapped me out of my reverie.  
“Ready, B’Elanna?”  Harry Kim called, knocking on my door.
     “Coming!”  I called.  Kes gave me an encouraging glance, and 
I opened to door and stepped out.
     “Good, you’re re -- “  Harry’s voice broke off the minute he 
caught sight of me.  His face lost the broad smile it had been 
wearing and he simply stared.  Geron and Dalby, who were with him, 
had much the same reaction.
     I self-consciously smoothed the folds in my dress.  “So, what 
do you think?”  I asked nervously.
     Harry let out a low whistle. “My God, Maquis.  Since when 
have you been so stunning?”  he asked candidly.     
     “Harry!”  I said, embarrassed.  I didn’t want Dalby and Geron 
to think I was flirting with him.  “It’s just a dress.”
     “Just a dress?”  Harry repeated.  “I don’t know if I’m 
talking to B’Elanna Torres or Juliet Capulet.”
     I elbowed him in the chest.  “C’mon, Starfleet.  Let’s go.”
     Harry grinned.  “It’s B’Elanna,” he said to Dalby and Geron, 
who nodded in agreement.
     For some reason, I was a little apprehensive about Tom seeing 
me in this costume.  Would he like it?  Or would he think I was 
ugly?
     *Why do YOU care?* a mocking voice from inside of me said.  
*You want Tom to notice you?  Are you INTERESTED in him?*
     *Shut up,* I told that annoying inner voice.  *You’re getting 
on my nerves.*
     I soon discovered that my worries were unfounded.  Paris was 
backstage, giving last-minute instructions, when Harry, Dalby, 
Geron, and I approached.  “Hey, Paris, you’re here!  Great!”  Tom 
said without turning around. “So are the Lords Capulet and 
Montague.  Did you bring Juli -- “  At that moment, he turned 
around, caught sight of me, and promptly dropped the PADD he was 
holding.  It clattered to the floor and caught the attention of 
the rest of the cast, who turned to see what had shocked their 
director.
     Abrupt silence engulfed the backstage.  Suddenly, all eyes 
were centered on me.  Now, this was really starting to get on my 
nerves.  Okay, so I looked considerably better then I usually do, 
but I didn’t look *that* great.
     I decided to break the silence.  Tom was wearing his costume, 
a white Shakespearean tunic and tights.  I sauntered over to him, 
ever so casually, and looked him over.  “Nice legs, Paris.”
     This comment caused everyone to laugh, jolting them out of 
their silence, exactly how I had intended.  Tom, however, didn’t 
even crack a smile.  Instead, he slowly walked around me, like he 
was trying to get a look at me from every angle.  “What are you 
doing?”  I asked, rather irritably.
     “B’Elanna Torres -- or rather, Juliet,” he finally 
pronounced, “you look perfect.  Doesn’t she look like an angel, 
everyone?”
     To my horror -- and secret delight -- the cast began to 
applaud.  “A Klingon angel,”  I said, shaking my head at him.  
“Tom Paris, what will you think of next?”
     He leaned over to me and whispered, “I’m thinking maybe I’d 
like to have dinner with you when this is all over.”
     His voice was loaded with hidden meaning, causing my hands to 
tremble ever so slightly.  “Don’t get your hopes up, Paris,” I 
muttered, but my voice -- damn! -- quavered just a bit.
     “Okay, people, five minutes!” he shouted, giving me a cocky 
grin.  “Places!”
     Before I took my place, I peeked out of the curtain.  Tom had 
programmed in holographic audience members, so it was packed.  But 
I could see Captain Janeway and Chakotay in the front row, talking 
to each other quietly.  Half of my engineering staff was out 
there, too, as well as various crew members from other parts of 
the ship.  I gulped, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous.  I must 
have been crazy to think I could do this.  
     “You’ll do fine,” Tom Paris whispered, squeezing my hand.  
“C’mon.  You’re on soon.”
       Now how in the world had he known what I was thinking?  Oh, 
well, no time to wonder now.  The lights in the theater were 
dimming and the crowd began to quiet.
     Now Tuvok, in Shakespearean garb and looking none to happy 
about it, walked out on stage and began his lines.

Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, 
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes 
A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows 
Do with their death bury their parents’ strife.
The fearful passage of their death-mark’d love,
And the continuance of their parents’ rage,
Which, but their children’s end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours’ traffic of our stage;
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

     The play continued on without a hitch, all of the holographic 
characters appearing at the right times and so on.  Finally, it 
was time for me to enter.   Sue was saying her line:

NURSE: Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old,
I bade her come. What, lamb! what, ladybird!
God forbid! Where’s this girl? What, Juliet!

     Taking a deep breath, I went onstage.

JULIET: How now! who calls?

     I could hear a collective gasp from the audience as I 
entered.  As Paris had said, we had kept our parts secret from the 
rest of the crew.  Everyone had been waiting eagerly to see who 
Juliet was, and I had the feeling they had been expecting anyone 
but me.
     Sue Nicoletti, Cathy Henley and I continued our scene, which 
went perfectly.  Before I knew it, it was time for the balcony 
scene.  The curtains rose, and Paris said his opening line.

ROMEO: He jests at scars that never felt a wound.

     As I was supposed to, I appeared on the balcony, and Tom 
began his lines.  

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief, 
That thou her maid art far more fair than she:
Be not her maid, since she is envious;
Her vestal livery is but sick and green
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.
It is my lady, O, it is my love! 
O, that she knew she were!
She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?
Her eye discourses; I will answer it.
I am too bold, ‘tis not to me she speaks:
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven 
Would through the airy region stream so bright
That birds would sing and think it were not night.
See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek! 

     He said them with such emotion, such feeling, that I forgot 
he was Tom Paris, I forgot there was an audience.  Hell, I even 
forgot who *I* was.  Instead, I became Juliet.  I leaned my cheek 
against my hand, sighed, and began to speak.

JULIET: Ay me!

ROMEO: She speaks: O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art
As glorious to this night, being o’er my head
As is a winged messenger of heaven 
Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds
And sails upon the bosom of the air.

JULIET: O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? 
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, 
And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.

ROMEO: Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?

JULIET: ‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What’s Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What’s in a name? that which we call a rose 
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee 
Take all myself.

     Somehow, subconsciously, I knew -- I just *knew* -- that we 
were holding the audience spellbound.  I could barely hear anyone 
in the audience breathe.
     Paris and I continued the scene, doing it the best we’d ever 
done it before.  When the curtain went down at the end of our 
scene, we silently hi-fived each other.  We had done wonderfully, 
and both of us knew it.
     The play continued, Juliet and Romeo’s marriage, Tybalt’s 
subsequent death, Romeo’s banishment and Juliet’s tender good-bye.  
Geron did excellently as Lord Capulet, again screaming his lines 
in my face -- I stuck to the script, this time.  
     It went on -- Juliet drank the sleeping drought, was thought 
dead, and buried.  Romeo returned to find his love dead, killed 
Paris, then killed himself.  Juliet arose, found her lover and 
Paris dead, and stabbed herself with Romeo’s dagger.  The Capulets 
and Montagues, along with the prince, arrived at the graves, and 
the friar explained it all.  The holographic Prince said his 
closing lines:

PRINCE: A glooming peace this morning with it brings;
The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: 
Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;
Some shall be pardon’d, and some punished:
For never was a story of more woe
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

     The curtain fell, and the entire cast breathed a sigh of 
relief.  The first performace was over without a hitch!
     The sound of wild applause from the audience caused us all to 
grin at each other.  They had liked it!
     “Okay, everyone, curtain call!”  Paris announced as the 
curtain began to rise.  
     The lesser cast took their bows first, the applause still 
going steadily.  Then, Tom and I came out and took our bows.  And 
to my absolute astonishment, *Captain Janeway*, of all people, 
jumped up from her seat and started to cheer wildly, shouting, 
“Bravo! Bravo!”  Chakotay was doing the same, and the rest of the 
audience followed their example.  We had a standing ovation!
     Suddenly, a bouquet of exquisite red roses was presented to 
me -- by none other then Tom Paris himself.  “Tom!” I said in 
amazement.  “What -- “
     “You were a fabulous Juliet -- and you deserve a reward.  
It’s not much, but -- “  He shrugged, grinning at me.
     “Tom, they’re beautiful,” I said, sincerely touched.  “This 
is so sweet.”
     “So are you.”  He winked at me rakishly.
     “Pig.”  I grinned at him in return, and we turned back to the 
audience, who were -- still -- clapping.  
     Our theatrical debut had been a success.

THE END