"Love Thine Enemy"
by Ardelle

 Note:  I know you people have made up a gazillion different Paris
children, but I made it a gazillion and two.  Their names are
S'Ehrita(more like Sarita) and K'Elim(more like Klim) 

        If there was one thing Rebecca hated, it was being called Becky. 
Becca was bad enough- but Becky!  It sounded so immature.  It screwed up
her beautiful name that flowed like water.  Rebecca Cleora Irish.  Becky
Cleora Irish?  It sounded frumpy.
  Rebecca's mother, Samantha Eleanor Irish, had never called her Becky. 
Or Becca.
  But her mother was dead, leaving Rebecca an orphan at the age of
fifteen.
  Leela, her adoptive mother, had called her Becky.  Maybe that's what
Rebecca hated most of all.
  Rebecca wrote in her diary,
        "I hate Leela.  She's an incompetent fool who knows nothing. 
Harry is just as bad, and Matteo is a brat.  You're my only friend. 
Rebecca."

  Fifteen years ago, Rebecca's mother Samantha ransacked several crew
member's quarters.  Later it was found that was so because of inner
turmoil, out of rage.  Samantha had been raped by another crew member,
and for some twisted reason, she blamed it on senior crew.  The man who
had done it had been killed in a shuttle crash.  Rebecca did not even
know his name.
  So, because of this man, Rebecca was born, shortly after Samantha
finished paying her debt to society.  She had become a closed-in person,
and would not allow her former best friend, Leela Aster Kim, to help her
raise her child.  So Rebecca was raised in a closed-in way, with no
exposure to the other children of the crew.
  By now the population of children was quite large; K'Elim Paris(15),
S'Ehrita Paris(10), Prudence Xaven(10),Chastity  Xaven(8), James
Xaven(7), Matteo Kim(5), and Mark Janeway(1), and several others.  Just
this week Rebecca had met them all(except for K'Elim), and this is what
she wrote of them in her trusted diary:
        "They all think far too much of themselves and all have their
own ways of annoying me.  Celia thinks she owns the ship, S'Ehrita acts 
as if she knows everything about everything and Prudence won't stop
chattering.
 Chastity whines and whines, and James makes so much noise I fear my
ears will fall off.  Matteo wouldn't stop calling me Becky, he *knows* 
I hate that!  Even Mark was a pain!  He kept on crawling around and getting 
into trouble.  Diary, if this is what life is going to be like with the Kims, 
I don't want to live it."

*       *       *

Life had caused me pain
So I shut out the life
Not realizing that I was letting the pain in with open doors
I denied my unhappiness
Lying even to myself
Telling myself the unhappiness was because of others
Telling myself that the problems were theirs
Protecting myself with a shield of lies
Making people think I was some one else
Not a pain-stricken, grief-stricken child
Who only wished not to feel pain

*       *       *

  Rebecca stared at the canvas thoughtfully.  She painted the entire
background black.  Dipping the brush neatly into the pain, she smeared
an angry red squiggle across one side of the board, a crying theater 
mask in the corner, a broken egg. In the center of her picture a strange
creature made of hand prints.  In another corners she drew an old Earth 
mousetrap and a sunken ship.  It was a specter of screaming pain, 
incredible sadness and unstoppable rage.  At the bottom she signed her 
name, Rebecca Cleora Irish.  She title the nightmarish scene "Inexorable," 
stepping back to admire her work.
  "Becky, it's time for dinner," said Matteo, stepping right into
Rebecca's room even though he knew he wasn't supposed to.
  "It's Rebecca," she growled.  "Get out.  I'm coming."

  Leela heaved an exasperated sigh when Rebecca arrived at the dinner
table.
  "Rebecca, go wash up."  Rebecca looked down at her paint-stained hands
and dusty smock.
  "No," she said.
  "Rebecca," said Harry.  "Do as your mother says."
  Bad choice of wording.
  "SHE IS NOT MY MOTHER!!!" Rebecca shouted.  "HOW *DARE* YOU CALL HER
THAT!  MY MOTHER IS *DEAD* FROM SOME SICKNESS THE DOCTOR COULDN'T
CURE!!!"  With that she ran to her room and could not be coaxed out for
two days.
        "No one cares about my real mother.  I think that they would
rather have her die and be gone.  I hate my life.  I wish I were dead. 
Rebecca."

*       *       *

  "So," asked prissy Prudence Xaven at school.  "Where have you been the
last two days?"
  "On Risa."
  "Isn't Risa in the Alpha Quadrant?" asked Chastity Xaven, confused. 
"I thought Risa was in the Quadrant?  We haven't reached the Alpha Quadrant 
*yet* have we?  I was sure it was in the Alpha Quadrant?  Isn't it?"
  "Yes it is, Chastity," said Rebecca, saccharine.  "I wasn't *really*
there.  It's called *sarcasm*."
  "Oh."

  "Have you studied for the test tomorrow?  Tuvok is giving us the
finals."
  "Huh?"  Rebecca whirled around and found herself in the face of K'Elim
Paris.  He was handsome, with his mother's colorings and faint Klingon
forehead.  Trying to sound disgusted Rebecca asked, "Who are you?"
  "K'Elim Paris.  I don't believe we've met." He shook her hand, but she
drew back awkwardly.
  "Then how did you know I was in your class?"
  "My sister told me about you."
  "Oh," said Rebecca, remembering the smarty girl with her father's
colorings.  There was, for a moment, a silence.
  "So, have you studied?"
  Rebecca nodded.  Yes, she had studied.  There had been plenty of time
to study.  Up till now, she had taken school by correspondence.
  The sound of an electronic bell pierced the air.  Time to go to class.

  The entire Voyager school was held in one large room, since there
weren't more than twenty kids in all.  It was a silent and disciplined
class, as one taught by a Vulcan would be.  The questions in the finals
were extremely easy, and Rebecca found herself almost bored by it.  She
was the first person done with it, even after checking her answers
twice.
  The rest of the class time she read a biography about Salvador Dali. 
Rebecca found surrealism interesting and fun, and had several of his
works in her room.  Also she had works by M.C. Escher and Rene Magritte,
along with her own unique art.

  When class was over Rebecca took a look in a small hand-mirror that
had been her mothers.  Rebecca looked a great deal like her, with the 
same pretty copper hair and aquamarine eyes.  Unfortunately, she had also 
inherited her mother's sprinkling of freckles over her horribly pale skin.  
She ran her fingers through her close-cropped hair, just as her mother 
always did.
  How Rebecca missed her.  It was almost to awful to bear.
  Samantha had promised Rebecca that all her dreams were within reach,
that someday she would be an artist of great renown.
  Yeah, right.

*       *       *

Dreams are a sculpture
Made of glass
A portrait of the person dreaming dreams
I think that mine
Has been rudely thrown to the ground
And has shattered to pieces

*       *       *

  "Is there something wrong?" asked K'Elim, once again materializing
from behind her.
  Rebecca realized she'd been crying, dried her eyes.  "Yeah, there's
something wrong," she joked.  "My life."
  "What do you mean?"
  "My mother promised me that I would become a great artist, that
everybody would love me."
  "What's wrong with that?  If you put your mind to it..."
  "K'Elim, look at me!  Everybody hates me!  I've just been such an
awful
person, and now I don't know how to..."
  K'Elim held her close, their faces inches away.  "I don't hate you,"
he whispered.
  Rebecca jerked away.  "Don't be so sure about that," she said.  She
ran off, to the Kim quarters.

*       *       *
  "K'Elim, your late for dinner," said B'Elanna.  "Where have you been?"
  "I know where he's been," said S'Ehrita.  "He's been out with Rebecca
Irish.  I bet they've been *kissing* and everything."
  "Rebecca Irish?" said Tom, amused.
  "We were just talking!  I ran into her in the corridor."
  "I see," said B'Elanna, not really believing him.  If he had his
father's romantic skills...
  "She was crying," K'Elim continued.  "I tried to comfort her."
  "Why was she crying?" asked S'Ehrita, knowing very well it was none of
her business.
  "None of your business!"
  Here ended the conversation.

*       *       *

  "GET AWAY FROM THERE, MATTEO!!  MATTEO!!"

  The words Rebecca had screamed over an hour ago still echoed her mind. 
She had gotten back to the Kim Quarters, and Leela, in a rush, had
begged her to watch Matteo.  Rebecca had not argued, feeling greatly subdued 
with the doctor's news.  She had gone to her room and was working on her 
science project, identifying metals by melting them.  Being careful to leave 
the heater off when she left the room, she went to get a snack.  Upon returning 
she found Matteo turning on the heater.  At first Rebecca was angry at him, he 
knew it was dangerous and he knew he wasn't supposed to be in her room.
  "But Becky, I just wanted to help."
  That was when Rebecca had realized that the he had switched the heater
on high, and the cords were beginning to burn.
  "GET AWAY FROM THERE, MATTEO!!"  There had been a sudden explosion, a
blast of heat.  "MATTEO!!"

  Now they were in sickbay.  And Matteo was dead.

  No one would come out and say it, but Rebecca knew it was her fault. 
If she had been more responsible- she wasn't even supposed to be *using*
the flammables, he wouldn't have died.  What was worse, is that Rebecca
came out practically unharmed.

  There was no way she would be able to live with the Kims anymore. 
They were grief-stricken, crying.  Tom and B'Elanna Paris had come to 
comfort them, thought they were mourning the death of their surrogate 
nephew.  Rebecca slinked back, trying not to be seen.  She felt more 
guilty than sad.  She didn't cry.

  Rebecca saw herself living the rest of her life in a cell.  So much
for being an artist.
  Some one touched her shoulder, and Rebecca shuddered and turned
around.
 K'Elim.

*       *       *

  Rebecca looked different than when he first met her at school.  She
had been defiant, careless, and a bit snooty.  Now she looked like she 
had walked through Hell, and her life strength gone.
  "It's okay," K'Elim said.
  Color flooded back into Rebecca.  "NO, IT'S *NOT* OKAY!!!  BECAUSE OF
*ME* MATTEO IS DEAD!" she screeched.  "THAT IS *NOT* OKAY, K'ELIM! 
NOTHING IS EVER, EVER GOING TO BE *OKAY*!!!!"

*       *       *

Flying witches, creeping devils, creatures of great sin.
These but frighten, do no damage
Unlike the ones within

They fight and tear your soul apart
With guilt, grief, and anger
Seems like you have no heart

You can burn the witches, destroy the devils in acts of pure and good,
But can you solve the inner demons
Kill them as you should?

There is one way, word from above
The only solving qualities
Are hope and love

*       *       *

  Later the Kims(and Rebecca) were allowed to return to their quarters
and salvage anything they could.  Most of the things were saved, other
than Rebecca's painting utensils, several paintings, her desk, all of
her padds, and her bed.  Rebecca moved all of her remaining things into
boxes, prepared to move wherever she ended up.

*       *       *

Some one once said that wherever you go, you leave a part of you behind.


*       *       *

  "We'll take her," Chakotay offered.  "We've got more space, besides-"
  Suddenly Tom blurted, "I think *we* should take her!"
  "What?" asked B'Elanna.  They hadn't even *considered* taking Rebecca
in.  "Chakotay and Kathryn have more room-"
  "I think at the moment Rebecca really needs a friend.  Since her
K'Elim are already sort of friends, I thought that maybe she might, you 
know, be a bit more open when she gets to know him."
  *Like me,* B'Elanna thought.  "You're right," she said.  "I think we
should take her."
  "Are you sure it's not too much trouble?" asked Kathryn.
  "Yes, we're sure."

*       *       *

  "Thank you so much for taking her," said Harry for about the fiftieth
time.  "She can come back and live with us, once we, you know, get our
quarters fixed up, if she wants to."
  "No problem, buddy, it's the least we can do," said Tom, hugging
Harry.
 "And if theirs anything else, you know where to turn to."
  Harry managed a weak smile.  "Yeah, I know you'll always be there for
me.  Friends for life, remember?"
  "Yeah, I remember."

*       *       *

  She hadn't said a word since she arrived.  Actually, Rebecca hadn't
said anything since her blow up in sickbay.  B'Elanna felt sorry for
her.
 *She must feel awful.*
  Suddenly, out of the blue,(by now you may have noticed that is a
favorite expression of mine) Rebecca asked,
  "Did you hate my mother?"
  The dinner table was silent.
  Tom was the first to speak, "Uhm, yes, for a little bit I was.  She
had nearly killed B'Elanna, not on purpose of course, and I, uh-"
  "Wanted her dead," Rebecca finished, sweetly.  "You thought she was
nuts, especially when you found out about her motive.  You were a little
sad, but not *really*.  Leela and I were the only people who even
*cared* when she died."
  "Yes, well, one of the reasons was because we didn't know her very
well," said B'Elanna.  "We only knew her as the criminal she acted to
be."
  Rebecca leaned back in her chair, as if satisfied.  She spoke no more
that night.


*       *       *

  Class was getting too damned boring.

  The warp core blah, blah, blah.  Logic blah, blah, blah, blah,
logical, blah.

  *My life is hell.  Look at it.  There isn't one good thing about it!*

  Suddenly a funny tickling arose in Rebecca's throat.  A *giggle*. 
Another one.  Another.  Rebecca just couldn't stop laughing, she was
cracking up in the middle of class.  Finally, Tuvok sent her to sickbay
with K'Elim.  As soon as they were outside the class K'Elim hissed,
  "What is wrong with you?" 
  "Mmph!  Teeheehee!!  My life is, ahaha, hell.  Hahahaha!  My life is
HELL!  I was just, hehehe, thinking about it, when ahahaha, it struck me
as funny.  Hahahaha!  Hell, hell, hell.  My life is-"
  *SMACK*
  K'Elim smacked her across the face.
  "Snap out of it, Rebecca!"
  Abruptly Rebecca stopped.
  "Thanks," she gasped.  "I needed that."  (And I know some PARISITES
who need that too!)
  With his arm around her shoulder, K'Elim said,
  "Are you ready to go back to class?"
  "Yeah, I guess," said Rebecca with a sigh.
  "What's the matter?"
  "That stuff is so damned *boring*!  I feel like I'm gonna fall asleep
or something!"
  "You know, you ought to ask to Tuvok for higher work if your that
bored.  Talk to him about that after class, I'll wait for you."
  "Thanks."

  Rebecca felt great.  The best she'd ever felt in her life.

*       *       *

  (One month later, in the Paris living room)

  Rebecca chuckled.
  "Rebecca?  What is it?" asked Tom.
  "Oh, nothing, really.  It's just, well, I never felt like my mother
was
really *family*.  I loved her and all, but I didn't really think of her
as family.  Our quarters weren't really home."
  "What's so funny about that?" asked S'Ehrita.
  "It's just so ironic," said Rebecca, "that I think of you guys of
family, and home."
  "Well," said B'Elanna.  "Welcome home."



Okay, okay, I know.  The ending was sappy!  But I was getting kind of 
depressed writing about all the other stuff and I couldn't help it. 
Keep your eyes peeled and you might just see a "Shooting Star!" 

Luvya lots,
Deirdre, Miss Muffin America