There stood Tom Paris, who flashed her a vampiric smile. "Treeck or treet, Captain," he announced, in a ludicrous parody of a Transylvanian accent.

She smiled, genuinely this time, and turned to walk towards her bowl of candy bars. "Come in, Tom. Take a seat."

"Don’t mind if I do." Tom perched himself on her sofa, cape trailing over the cushions. "So, what’s a scary lady like you doing home on a night like this?"

"*Someone* has to give out the candy," she said lightly. "Besides, it’s hardly appropriate for the captain to dress in weird clothes and beg for food unless it’s a diplomatic mission."

Tom caught the underlying bitterness in her voice and stood up, pulling his fangs out. "What about Kathryn?" he said softly. "That uniform has to come off sometime, you know."

"Not with you in the room, it doesn’t," she retorted, and sighed. "I want, *so* much, to be Kathryn for just one evening." Her voice was shaking, and she turned away to get herself under control. She ran a hand through her hair and began pacing round the room. "I want… I want to tell dirty jokes without everyone looking shocked. I want to swear in public, and wear revealing clothes on the holodeck. I want--" She stopped just in time to avoid walking into Tom. /I want…/ She lifted her eyes slowly to meet his.

Tom lifted his hand to her face. He looked at her wordlessly for a moment, then she kissed him.

She put everything into it: her frustration, her pain, the unbearable loneliness, and healed it, made everything somehow worth this one moment. But she knew it wasn’t right, and somehow found the strength to pull away.

"I’m sorry," she started quietly, but he put a soft finger on her lips to silence her.

"I understand," he said, with a slight smile.

She searched his face for several seconds, then nodded and stepped back. "Well," she said finally. "I suppose…"

"Just a minute." Tom held up a hand then moved to the replicator.

"Tom, what-- Oh no," she said as he brandished a witch’s outfit. "No. Absolutely not."

He grinned evilly and threw the costume at her. She caught it automatically. "Put it on."

"*No*."

"Well, if you think it would be better for the captain’s dignity to be dragged along the corridors by her helmsman…"

She regarded him warily. "You wouldn’t."

Tom crossed his arms. "Try me."

Kathryn looked at him a moment longer then sighed and headed for the bedroom to change. "I’ll get you for this," she warned as she passed him.

Tom just grinned and resumed his Transylvanian accent. "I vouldn’t haf you any odder vay, my dear."

She couldn’t help but smile.