"So take my hand I'll start my journey, Free from all the helpless worry
That besets a man when he's alone.  For strength is mine when we're together,
And with you I know I'll never Have to pass the high road for the low.
I have no more than I did before, But now I've got all that I need, 'cause I
love you and I know you love me." (11)

XI.

        The next few days passed in a whirlwind of motion - friends in and out,
numerous talks with the Doctor and Captain, everything a blur as my thoughts
started to focus on one thing - the upcoming surgery.  One day I was so nervous,
I paged Meg.  Though B'Elanna always offered comfort and help, Megan and I
went back to shared Academy days - she probably knew me better than I knew
myself.  And right now, I needed the familiar comfort of her smile. 
        She came, like I knew she would.  She always did.
        "Hey, Tom," she said softly as she entered.  She pulled up a stool, the
one B'Elanna often occupied, and settled onto it lightly.  I must have looked
scared - terrified, probably - because the next words out of her mouth were,
"It's going to be okay, Tom."
        I flushed slightly, defensive all of the sudden.  "I know."
        She smiled the smile I knew so well.  "Of course you do.  You always
have to know everything."
        I grinned at her cautiously, feeling the defensiveness drain as quickly
as it had sprung into place.  "Don't be jealous, Meg."
        Megan looked shocked.  "Me?  Jealous of you?"  She winked.  "Who
graduated two classes above you, Tom?"
        Cringing, I begged, "Don't remind me. Gloated about it for months...."
         Megan wagged a finger in my direction.  "All I'm saying, Tom, is I have
nothing to be jealous of from you."
        Huh.  She did have a point.  "Fine," I sighed.  "Fine."
        A malicious-looking grin crossed her pretty face.  "So I win."
        "Yes, you win."
        "Again?"
        "Yes, again."
        "Good."
        "But not next time," I warned.
        "That's what you said last time," she countered, grinning like an idiot.
I laughed at the familiarity of the ritual and Megan's fierce grin softened
into something more natural and lovelier.  Her hand reached out to cover mine
where it lay on my chest.  As my other hand went up to touch hers, a glint of
light caught my eye and I looked down to where a glittering ring rested on
the third finger of her left hand.  My gaze shot up to meet hers. 
        "Meg??" I questioned, not quite able to believe....
        She grinned happily and her eyes danced. 
        "Meg...." I couldn't seem to find it in me to utter more than one word
for a sentence. "Aaron?"
        She nodded again and I tried for another word.  "Congratulations?" 
I offered hopefully.  Megan....married?  I knew it come sooner or later, but I'd
always expected it to be later!
        A huge grin enveloped her face and she leaned down to hug me; I wrapped
my arms around her and hugged her back as best as I could.
        "Tom, I'd like you to give me away," Megan whispered, effectively taking
any remaining breath away.
        "Megan...." 
        "Dad would've wanted you to," she said softly.  I remembered that the
the Delaneys' father had passed away several years ago, shortly after Megan had
graduated.  He and I had been good friends; I'd probably been closer to him 
than my own father. I paused, then took a deep breath.  "Meg, I'd be honored," 
I said quietly.
        She smiled.  "Thank you."
        I nodded, smiling just a little.  "When's the wedding?"
        "When will you be able?" she countered.
        I considered.  Though leaving Sickbay in a repulsor chair was my only
option before the surgery, there was a chance that afterwards I wouldn't be
leaving at all.  And I needed to be there for Meg.  She'd always been there for
me.  "Whenever you need me," I replied. 
        "Tom, I want you walking," she said sternly.  
        Right.  That could be weeks, months....or never again.  "Meg - "
        "Tom, listen to me," she interrupted.  "I've seen the way your mood 
has changed over the last week, from resolve to despair.  Look, you called me;
Tom, I know you better than you do.  You're beginning to doubt, and you're
starting to get depressed."
        I frowned.  Maybe I should have paged Jenny.  That bubblehead wouldn't
even have noticed. 
        "Tom," she stated firmly, "listen to me.  Even if you're not walking,
you need to stay strong.  If not for yourself, then for B'Elanna."
        Obviously she didn't understand.  "Meg, this surgery - "
        "Quiet, Tom," she interrupted again.  "They used to perform surgeries
routinely years ago, until the regenerator was put into wide use."
        "They've probably forgotten how," I muttered darkly.
        "Do you trust the Doctor?"
        Of course I did.  I'd trusted him with my life many times over - though
not always voluntarily.  "Yes."
        "Then why are you so worried?"
        I tried to explain.  "Meg, it's not the surgery in itself, but the 
results that scare me.  What if I can't walk?  What if I can't pilot?"
        She smiled lopsidedly.  "Then you'll still be Tom Paris, and you'll
be onboard a ship whose crew respect you, some of whom know you as a friend,
and some of whom love you very much."
        Sort of a cheesy thing to say, but point taken. 
        "I'll still be Tom Paris, huh?"
        She grinned.  "I'm afraid there isn't much we can do about that."
Her voice dropped.  "'Once a Paris, always a Paris,'" she intoned. 
        I groaned.  "Quiet, woman, you sound like my father."
        Megan chuckled.  "But, I know what we *can* do," she added.  "We can
change B'Elanna Torres from B'Elanna Torres."
        "Huh?" I questioned intelligently.
        Megan looked around conspiratorally, then leaned closer.  "We can
make her a Paris," she winked, then laughed delightedly at whatever expression
had crossed my face.
        "Meg, you're *weird*," I informed her, smiling ruefully.  The smile 
faded.  "I can't."
        Meg dropped all pretext of joking.  "Why not, Tom?"
        I gestured at my useless legs.  "Look at me, Meg!  What if...."
        "Hey," Megan pushed in gently, "she cares about you."
        "I know," I said quietly, feeling helpless.  I knew she did, but to
ask B'Elanna to marry me when I couldn't even leave Sickbay?
        "Tom, look at me," Megan said gently, green eyes serious.  "She was here
everyday for at least an hour, everyday for *six months*, when there was a
myriad of other work to be done.  Even before the accident it was so very 
obvious, Tom, how much she cares about you.  She's devoted to you."
        "But - " I started to protest.  Megan again cut me off.
        "How many times has she just stopped and smiled at you in a way that
made you smile, too?  How many hugs has she given you in exchange for your
gloomy moods?  How many times has she disabled your defenses and seen the 
real you?  How many times has she put up with your pigheaded stubborness and - "
        "I get the idea, Meg," I offered wryly, then relaxed into a smile.
"You really think....?"
        "Tom, would you do anything for her?"
        The point-blankness of her question startled me.  "What?"
        "Would you do anything for B'Elanna?" she repeated.
        "Yes," I said firmly.
        Megan's face was somber, but her eyes smiled.  "Then you have to believe
she'd do anything for you."
        Those words stayed with me a long time, long after Megan had gone. 

* * * * *