Note from the author:  I wrote this after dealing with a major incident
of prejudice toward a friend of my sister's.  It helped me get my anger
out of my system.  However, it made me think of what B'Elanna's teenage
years must have been like.  From that came this story.

Disclaimers:  Star Trek and anything related is Paramount's property. 
All lyrics are from "Precious Things", written and performed by Tori
Amos.  I borrowed the song's title for my story.  No copyright
infringing is intended.  Don't sue, please.

Warning:  This can either be considered R or NC-17, depending on how you
look at it.  No one under 15 allowed, and no one under 18 if you're not
mature enough to handle it.  This is also angst.  I have yet to come up
with an original romantic idea.  If you don't like angst, then this
isn't for you.

That said and done, if you can get past that, enjoy.

Precious Things
By Shai (Beverly) Williamson


        I hated them.
        Prejudiced little brats, picking on me to act superior.
        I wanted to be one of them.  I tried.  I tried to be nice to them. 
They wouldn't accept me.
        I didn't ask to be born half-Klingon, growing up without a father, with
a mother who hated the sight of me, with these ugly ridges on my face,
my stupid name, and everything else.
        They called me a freak.  They called me a half-breed.  They called me
worse.
        They would kick me, hit me, trip me, take my books and laugh and the
teachers would watch and smile.
        I hated them all.

**

"So I ran faster
but it caught me, yes,
my loyalties turned like my ankle
in seventh grade
running after Billy,
running after the rain."

**

        Of course, high school wasn't much better, either.  All the kids ganged
up on me, led by Alida Balthazar and her little snob clique.  She was,
of course, encouraged by her own mother, Lily Balthazar, that blond
bitch.  She only did it because her husband tried to screw with my
mother and learned the hard way.
        The boys were the worst, though.  At sixteen, one finally noticed me. 
He slept with me, then turned on me.  All of them were like that.  They
only wanted sex, to experience the Klingon prowess that I had none of.
        And of course, they bragged about it.  The bastards.  I hated them.

**

"He said 'you're really an ugly girl,
but I like the way you play.
And I died
but I thanked him
Can you believe that
Sick, holding onto his picture
Dressing up every day
I wanna smash the faces
of those beautiful boys
those Christian boys
So you can make me come,
that doesn't make you Jesus."

**

        In senior year, things seemed to change.  I was stupid enough to
believe that it had changed.
        I went to a party, tried to be one of them, to fit in.  Alida was nice
at first.  I should have known she was up to something.  And then she
and her bitch friends descended on me.
        No one cared that I had to crawl home, alone, half-naked in a ruined
dress, in the rain.  If anything, they delighted in seeing me suffer.
        I should have learned.  But I didn't.

**

"I remember
in my peach party dress
no one dared
no one cared to tell me
where the pretty girls are
those demigods
with their nine-inch nails
and little fascist panties
trapped inside the heart of every nice girl"

**

        Time went on.  I eventually escaped the hell that was Kessik, made it
to the Academy.  I had boyfriends there, but they were no different. 
Once they'd had me in bed a couple of times, they would move on.
        And soon it no longer mattered.  Sex was just part of it.  I managed to
suppress the raw, hurting ache in my heart.
        Eventually, I left the Academy and joined the Maquis.  Once there, I
resolved to keep men out of my life for good.
        When we were brought to the Delta Quadrant and the Zola was blown to
bits, we had no choice but to join up with Voyager's crew.  I intended
to keep my vow.  After all, there was no sense in screwing up a
relationship when I couldn't escape the person.
        I was able to hold onto that belief until Sakari four.  Then the truth
was out---I couldn't escape it.  As time passed, I came to realize that
maybe destiny had chosen someone for me after all.
        The first time I was with Tom, I had no idea that it would be
so---different.  It was so amazing that it brought tears to my eyes. 
And then *he* was the one to cry, finally understanding the truth.  He
cupped my face in his hands, kissed my forehead, whispered to me, his
voice trembling with anger, wondering how anyone could treat me so
cruelly.  Then he made love to me a second time, slowly, tenderly,
sweetly.  The climax was almost unbearable, this strange mix of pleasure
and pain, yet it was wonderful.
        The next day, I began having flashbacks of childhood.  I have no idea
why I began thinking about it now, but I did and no matter how hard I
tried to push it out of my mind, it wouldn't leave.
        By the time I got off duty, I was so upset that I barely looked at
anyone that I passed in the halls.
        Tom was waiting for me in my quarters.  He was a little startled by the
way I stormed in and had very little time to react when I flung him onto
my bed and began tearing at his clothes.  When he finally got his
bearings back, he started tearing at mine.
        There was no love, no tenderness in this union.  Only a violent taking,
like what had been done to me so many times.
        When it was over, Tom wasn't angry or upset.  He merely asked me what
was wrong.
        His eyes, still holding love for me after what I'd done.  That gentle
blue gaze broke my control.  I spilled the whole story, then burst into
tears.  He pressed me close, stroked my hair, told me to let it go, let
it out.  And I did, held in the warm comfort of his arms.

**

"These precious things
let them bleed, let them wash away
these precious things
let them break, let them wash away."

**

        Precious things no more.  I have all I ever wanted.


Story belongs to me (Shai).  Send feedback to drshai@hotmail.com