Blood And Water

by Suz

Disclaimer - yeah, we all know that Paramount own them.


"You look so much like her."

His words bring a soft smile to my face and I know that he's imagining what it would be like to reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Would my hair feel like hers? Would my skin be as soft? And I'd let him, if he asked. But he won't.

"We always used to borrow each others clothes," I tell him, knowing that he'll like the anecdote from her past. "I remember when we were...about seven or eight, we were always mistaken for twins."

A grin graces his face for a moment and I'm glad that I could give that to him. He's been so sad since I've met him.

It doesn't last longer then five seconds, but then they never do.

"You know, I think it's incredibly brave of you to come here."

I've surprised him and he turns his head away towards the people talking in a group to our right. He's not looking at them and speaks, eventually.

"No. Stupid perhaps. But I had to come. She was my friend..."


I know he's smiling. "I never could refuse her anything. Even this. B'Elanna thinks I'm nuts...but she understands."

"She thinks you're nuts? Isn't that a bit of self-righteous view for someone who didn't bother to turn up herself?" Dammit, why does my mouth always run on without my brain being there with it? I close my eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I understand. B'Elanna's one of my closest friends...but Kathryn is your sister."

True, but even so I can understand B'Elanna's point of view. I don't want to. But if I hadn't suspected before it was stunningly obvious today. He came but he couldn't watch, keeping his gaze fixed on a wall the whole time. I don't think he even looked at her once.

He's avoiding looking at her now.

Maybe B'Elanna was right. Maybe he was nuts to come here. And maybe I'm nuts for what I'm about to do.

"Care to dance?"

He suddenly looks back at me. "Excuse me?"

"Care to dance?"

"I really don't think-"

I grab his hand before he can resist further and it doesn't seem to take much dragging to get him moving. We don't dance so much as sway but neither of us are in what you could call a jubilant mood.

The music changes to something a little more upbeat and we move a little faster, swirling around each other. I know that he's imagining that I'm someone else, someone he once thought he might have seen every morning when he woke. But as I swirl around one more time, reflect the grin on his face and avoid looking at the happy couple, I really don't care.


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