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Title: Gotcha! Contact: kelhapam@metrocast.net Series: VOY Rating: R Code: P/T Date: 23 April 2001
Summary: Tom Paris has been tied up and gagged...what would you do? How would you handle the situation?
Disclaimer: Voyager owns all the characters, etc., I am just using the characters for a little fun and relaxation.
Email: kelhapam@worldpath.net
Posting: OK to ASC, ASCEM, & BLTS. Please notify me if you post anywhere else.
Special thanks to my beta readers: Phyllis S., Marianne, Danae, and Ronda.
Gotcha! by PJ in NH
04/01
It was dark, and he felt chilled. Couldn't whoever did this to him at least have covered him up? What was the point of leaving him in the pitch black and nearly nude? Of course if they hadn't gone to the trouble of tying him down, Tom Paris could have pulled a blanket over himself. And if they hadn't gagged him, he could have instructed the computer to raise the room's temperature. What was the point of this exercise? He'd actually thought the crew was starting to like him. They certainly seemed to enjoy spending time in Sandrine's. Tom sighed. The only thing he could do was to try and be patient and wait. He hated waiting! He hated it almost as much as leola root stew!
* * * * * * *
B'Elanna stormed down one of Voyager's corridors en route to her cabin. Today had gone just about as well as any other day lately had on the ship--it didn't. One engineering team had worked on getting the transporters back up on line all afternoon, and they still weren't working one hundred percent. Another team had wrestled unsuccessfully with an uncooperative warp core all day. Finally, B'Elanna decided to lock down the core for the night, and she herself would tackle the problem in the morning.
It had only been a couple of months she'd assumed the rank of lieutenant and chief engineer, but she wasn't sure she'd be able to survive the experience much longer.
Idiots! IDIOTS!!!! Engineering was populated with a bunch of idiots--Starfleet and Maquis alike! Couldn't they see what needed to be done? Did she have to lead them all around by the nose? Apparently she did.
The Chief Engineer's boots hit the metal deck, beating out a furious tattoo as she continued her march toward her destination. So intent she was on her thoughts, she failed to notice members of Voyager's crew ducking out of sight as she passed by.
Pausing in front of her quarters, B'Elanna keyed in her admittance code. As soon as the door slid open, she slipped inside.
"Computer, lights forty percent."
The computer complied and the room brightened.
The sound of rustling fabric and a muffled moan made her turn abruptly toward the source of the sound--her bed.
B'Elanna stood prepared to pounce, her arms raised ready to do battle. "Computer, lights eighty percent."
Her eyes widened at the sight before her. "What the hell are you doing on my bed?!" she roared placing her hands on her hips.
Tied spread-eagle on her bed, naked except for his black briefs, which were very brief, Tom Paris twisted against his restraints. He tried to speak, but the gag prevented him from doing more than moan.
"You're going to pay for this, Tom Paris!" B'Elanna vowed.
The pilot's eyes widened. Like he could have tied himself to her bed on his own?!
"I suppose you think this is real funny. Too bad I don't have a holo-imager with me."
Tom hadn't thought of that. Would they do that? Would whoever it was who had ambushed him also have set up an imager to record the event? Of course they would. It would be just the sort of thing whoever planed a stunt like this would have done.
As much as he had dreamed of being in B'Elanna's bed since the two crews had become one, this was not quite how he had imagined it. He had fantasized about taking the initiative, pulling her down onto her bed. Of course she'd resist...at first. But then he'd nibble her ear, lick her neck, and kiss her throat, until she'd finally bow to the inevitable...their passion. It would be hot and scorching. He'd bite her, and she'd claw him, desperate to experience their ultimate union. Finally joining, the walls of the cabin would reverberate with the sounds of their lovemaking. It would have been memorable.
Instead, he lay helpless on her bed, trussed up like a pig, and she was looking far from aroused...she was pissed.
Then he saw it, or at least he thought it did. Someone appeared to have placed an imager in the wall alcove next to B'Elanna's collection of candles. Tom could see the lights in the room shine against the metal surface of what he thought might be the camera lens. It was positioned to take full advantage of his situation, and unless B'Elanna removed the gag there was no way he could warn her.
Great, B'Elanna thought her arms crossed in front of her. If anyone sees him leaving my cabin, particularly in his present state of undress, word would spread throughout the ship at warp speed. And of course the transporters were presently off-line, so a site-to-site transport was out of the question.
Of course she could replicate him something to wear, but she was short on rations. She'd need some help, and she couldn't ask just anybody, least of all Paris! So who could she trust to help her? She dismissed any people on her staff, they hated her right now. Chakotay would never let her forget it. Harry or Neelix might not be able to keep their mouths shut. She'd never ask the Captain. Which left Tuvok, and Tuvok was currently on an away mission with Ensign Wildman and Lt. Rollins mapping geological formations on a nearby planet. Face it. She was stuck.
Well it was nice change, she realized, to have Tom Paris quiet, but having him silent wasn't going to solve anything. She knew if anyone could get out of a sticky situation, it was him. Moving to the edge of the bed she saw that his wrist had been tied off using the same strap. The only way to untie him was to start with his left arm, the one furthest away from her. Bending over his body she tugged on the straps which secured him to the headboard.
Ten, nine, eight, Tom silently counted trying to maintain his composure. His "not-so-little pilot" though wasn't listening to reason, and the big pilot could feel the tightness in his groin. B'Elanna was just too close. He could feel her breasts press against his chest as she reached across. Breathing in, he was engulfed in her minty perfume. Damn, this woman didn't even know how damned sexy she was, and it was driving him crazy! Damn, her! And...damn it, from this angle, the camera would capture every incriminating detail. Tom moaned again. He was as good as dead.
"What the hell are you complaining about?" B'Elanna snapped, still trying to loosen the strap around the pilot's wrist. Again he moaned, wide eyes looked over her shoulder at the camera's position.
* * * * * *
From various places on the ship, several people snickered as they watched B'Elanna lower herself over Paris' bare torso. It just didn't get much better than this! Holographic stills were rapidly created to remember the event, including Tom's wide-eyed expression which could have been taken to mean many different things. What was B'Elanna doing with her left hand the camera couldn't see? It was just too precious! And just wait until the Commander saw the lieutenants together--all hell was sure to break loose!
* * * * * *
B'Elanna tugged at the strap again and again, until finally it gave way. Quickly Tom reached up and pulled down the strip of cloth which had been used to silence him.
"Stop," he hissed.
The engineer paused.
"Oh you'd just like that wouldn't you, Paris?" she spat "I never thought you'd be one of those people who'd get a charge out of being tied up."
"No...er...yes," Tom shook his head trying to get the image of the two of them in bed together out of his mind. "Oh, damn, it's not that, B'Elanna. Whoever did this, I think is recording their...their...."
"You expect me to believe someone took the time to strip you and tie you to my bed so they could film your body?!" She had to admit, he did have one fine body--muscular but not bulky.
"Like I could do it myself?" he replied incredulously.
"Hrrmmph," B'Elanna snorted. He did have a point. It would be pretty difficult for anyone to place himself in the position Paris was in. "I guess you're right," she admitted.
"I think the holo-imager is on the shelf next to your candles," he continued, pointing with his free hand in the direction of the shelf.
"Imager?" she exclaimed.
"Haven't you been listening to anything I've been telling you?"
It was hard to listen when she was counting chest hair. "Uh..."
"It's on the shelf," he repeated and again pointed it out.
B'Elanna pivoted on her heel and went over to the shelf Tom had indicated. There tucked away beside the Klingon candles her mother had given her years ago, was a small holo-imager. Quickly she snatched it off the shelf and dropped it to the deck where she smashed it with the heel of her boot.
"No one will be able to see anything any more," B'Elanna declared.
"And you also probably destroyed any evidence we might have been able to get from the holo-imager," Tom remarked. Pulling himself up to a sitting position he started working to free his ankles.
"ghay-cha'!" she spat angrily. Sometimes the situation just called for a Klingon curse.
"You can say that again," he quipped.
B'Elanna looked up at the pilot. "You've got to get out of here!"
"And just where do you expect me to go?" he asked. "You wanna make a bet the corridor outside your cabin is teeming with crewmen right now? And if I'm not mistaken, the transporters are still having problems, so you can forget a site-to-site transport."
B'Elanna howled and reaching for the nearest breakable object hurled a vase against the wall above her bed. Shards of pottery cascaded down and landed between the bed and the wall.
"Great, now the natives will think we are engaging in wild Klingon sex!" Tom exclaimed. "Is that what you want?"
B'Elanna seethed.
"Calm down, Torres," Tom urged finally freeing his ankles. "We'll think of something." He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up straight.
"Look we could just pool our replicator rations. You'd walk out of here fully clothed, and no one would question..."
"Don't think so," he said interrupting her. "Don't know about you, but I think some people need to be taught a lesson."
Looking at Tom's semi-nude body unnerved Torres, crossing over to her sofa she picked up the lap blanket she kept there and tossed it to him.
A growl from B'Elanna prompted Tom to quickly cover himself up.
"So what do you suggest we do?" B'Elanna asked. Then she thought of something. "I know, the Jefferies tubes!" She moved behind her dining table, where one of the Jefferies tubes entered her cabin. Pressing the release button didn't work, so she tried to pull it open with he bare hands. When that failed, she resorted to beating the nearby wall with her fists.
"Sealed, huh?"
"You knew about this?" she accused.
Tom held up his hands. "I swear I didn't. It just doesn't surprise me. Whoever did this was obviously very thorough. Tell me, B'Elanna, just what the hell did you do to piss off your engineers for them to do this?"
"My engineers?! What makes you think *my* engineers did this?" she shot back.
Tom shrugged. "Only that the whole ship knows you've been spitting mad down there the last month. Seems to me like the engineers decided to get back at you."
B'Elanna approached the pilot, hands on her hips. "If that's true, why did they include you in this scenario?"
"Why not? You clearly don't like me, and most of the crew still haven't found time to appreciate my charming personality."
B'Elanna snorted in disbelief. She wasn't about to tell him she used to have a mad crush on him when he was in the Maquis.
"What? You don't think I have a charming personality?" Tom demanded looking completely innocent.
She refused to answer.
"Well you want to hear my plan or not?" he asked finally.
"Plan?" She sounded dubious.
"Well, it's going to take some work, but I think we could pull it off." He looked worried for a moment. "You did take Scarfield's theatrical class your first year at the Academy didn't you?"
"It was required. You know that," she was puzzled by the question.
"True. It was suppose to help us prepare for dealing with alien cultures. Though for the life of me, I'll never figure out why performing Grease was of any benefit."
"You too, huh?
Tom nodded.
B'Elanna remembered the musical very well. They had cast her as Rizzo. Unfortunately, they hadn't also asked her if she could sing. "Let me guess, you played the boy Sandy was attracted to?"
A wide smile spread over Tom's face. "Yeah, but it was really Rizzo I was interested in. I always thought Sandy was just too perfect to be interesting, even after her transformation at the end of the play. I like my women to be...oh...challenging."
B'Elanna swallowed hard. There couldn't be any way he'd know she had held that role herself, could there? Time to change the subject. "I think we are getting off the..."
<<BREEP>>
Tom and B'Elanna turned at the sound of her door chime.
"B'Elanna, it's Chakotay, let me in." He sounded irate.
"Quick," B'Elanna urged Tom, "get in the bathroom."
When Tom didn't move fast enough, B'Elanna pulled him off the bed, "Get in there and be quick! I can't have him seeing you in here."
The pilot nodded and allowed B'Elanna to push him into the bathroom.
As soon as the door slid shut, B'Elanna called out. "Come on in!"
The main door whispered open, and the First Officer stepped inside. He had something clutched in his right hand, and he looked very upset.
"What do you want?" B'Elanna asked trying to appear confident.
"I want you to explain this to me." Chakotay tossed the device in B'Elanna's direction. Deftly B'Elanna caught the item. She saw, much to her dismay, it was a holopic projector.
"What's this?"
Chakotay crossed his arms, his gaze never leaving B'Elanna's face. "Turn it on and you'll find out what it is."
Knowing she had no option, B'Elanna thumbed the device on. Immediately a holopic of her and Tom was displayed. Whoever had been responsible for setting up the vidcam and putting Tom in her quarters certainly hadn't wasted any time distributing the stills. There in all its glory was a holopic of her leaning over Paris' naked torso, her shoulder neatly hiding the gag. The expression on Tom's face with his blue eyes opened wide easily could have been mistaken for ecstacy. From the way the picture was cropped, no one could see Tom had been bound to the bed.
"I...I don't know what to say, Chakotay, except this isn't what it appears to be. It's...it's..."
"Save it, B'Elanna," Chakotay snapped. It'd been a long day on Voyager for the First Officer, dealing with various departmental problems and crew schedules, and he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. "You can't expect me to believe someone tied Paris to your bed and forced you to lay on top of him. And then take pictures of the whole thing, can you?"
B'Elanna was speechless. She'd never seen him so upset, not even during a Cardassian attack.
"I know you drank more than your fair share of Plarian Brandy two weeks ago in Sandrine's, but I'd never would have believed you could have stooped so low as to sleep with Paris." He spat the pilot's name as he would a curse
"It wasn't...t-that's not...," she stammered.
"B'Elanna, I've told you before to stay away from Tom Paris, but I guess you thought you knew better." He paused briefly to regain his composure. "Because I still consider you a friend, I thought I owed you the common decency to warn you these pictures are making their way around the..."
::::Commander Chakotay, your presence is required on the bridge.::::
The First Officer breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly to calm himself before he responded. "I'll be right there, Harry. Chakotay, out." Turning around he headed back to the door.
"Don't you want this?" B'Elanna asked, holding up the holopic displayer.
"Keep it as a memento of your time with Paris," he remarked, not even looking back at her. "It'll be all you'll have to remember the event when he leaves you for someone else."
The door closed behind him. B'Elanna stood dumbfounded, her mouth agape. How was she ever going to straighten this out and restore her dignity, when even Chakotay didn't believe her?
Still reeling from the encounter, she walked to the bathroom and keyed open the door.
"You can come out now," she informed Tom, her voice was soft still recalling Chakotay's words.
Tom adjusted the blanket securely around his waist and emerged.
"You might as well have a seat," B'Elanna offered waving her hand at the dining area. Tom nodded and sat down on one of the chairs.
"I suppose you heard everything?" she asked sullenly walking away from Paris.
"Yeah. The big man didn't sound too happy."
B'Elanna looked dejected. "To say the least."
Tom leaned forward his elbows resting on the table. "So he thinks this happened after the birthday party we threw for Harry last month?"
B'Elanna nodded and wrapped her arms around her body to try and comfort herself.
"He was right about one thing. You did have a lot to drink that night."
So much for comfort, that was one thing she didn't need to be reminded of.. B'Elanna kicked the nearest piece of furniture, a small table which was placed beside the sofa. It toppled over but to her dismay didn't break.
"Nothing happened that night!" B'Elanna screamed pivoting back toward the pilot. "You know that. I...just had something to drink to celebrate Harry's birthday, had a little to eat, and..." She stopped in mid-sentence, not remembering what happened next.
"And then you had a little more to drink," Tom continued. He had remember the night clearly. "So before you passed out in Sandrine's, I took you back to your cabin. Then I made sure you were tucked into bed safe and sound for the night," Tom finished.
B'Elanna blanched...she would have recalled that, wouldn't she? "Oh, oh no!" she blurted, not wanting to believe what he was telling her. Not wanting to believe something like this could happen, and she wouldn't remember.
"I promise you I was a complete gentlemen. Other than removing your boots, I put you to bed fully clothed."
"I'm in so much trouble," B'Elanna realized. Sighing she sat down across the table from Paris.
Tom smiled slightly. "You haven't heard my plan yet."
"Hmmmm." She rolled her eyes.
"Listen to it and then if you don't like it you can forget it. Okay?"
What did she have to lose? Nothing at the moment. She nodded once but remained wary.
Tom thoughtfully rubbed his jaw, contemplating how to begin. How could he sell this to her so she'd agree to it? "Before I begin, let me ask you this. What is the one thing your engineering staff wants most of all?"
B'Elanna shrugged. She really had no idea what they wanted.
"Come on, B'Elanna," he urged. "You're with them all day long. Think about it."
She thought for a moment or two and then gave up shaking her head.
"The one thing they want most of all, and they certainly demonstrated it this evening, is to royally piss you off and embarrass you."
She nodded. "Okay. I guess that makes sense. But how do you know it was one of my engineers?"
"Who else would do it? The pilots have started to accept me. The women on the ship are all vying for my attention."
B'Elanna snorted. "You wish!"
Tom ignored her. "And the engineers are smart enough to pull this off."
She had to agree with him there.
"So if the one thing they want is to make you angry, that's the one thing you should never give them." He looked pleased with himself. "You have to surprise them. Do something unexpected."
"And how do you expect me to do that, pig-boy?" B'Elanna snapped, daring him to come up with the answer.
"We give them what they least expect," he replied. Tom grinned, his eyes sparkled. "We'll pretend we are madly in love with each other."
B'Elanna scoffed in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding!"
Tom smiled that 'I'm-so-clever-don't-you-wish-you-were-me' smile he had patented at birth. "Nope, and we'll lay it on thick and syrupy sweet. It'll be fun, and best of all it'll drive them crazy."
That did sound interesting--the crazy part.
"And how long do we have to put up this charade?"
"Oh, maybe a week." Tom guessed casually.
"A WEEK!" she roared rising out of her chair. It sounded more like a lifetime.
"Ten days tops," he amended.
"TEN DAYS!"
"You don't want them to get off too easy do you?" Tom asked, his blue eyes lit with a devilish glean. "Just think of their faces when they think we are madly in love with each other, and afterwards when they find out it was all a game."
That intrigued the Klingon half of the engineer. "Tell me more."
* * * * * *
"You should have seen his face," one of the engineers replied. "I've never seen Chakotay so out of control. He didn't waste any time going to see Torres."
"Nope, he even thinks this picture was taken last month during Harry's party."
"He'll believe anything, just as long as Paris seems to be in trouble or the cause of trouble."
"Chak is so gullible sometimes."
"Mr. Tattoo even believes he's a great pilot!"
Several of the engineers laughed.
* * * * * *
Standing in the corridor, just outside the open doorway into her quarters, B'Elanna took her time. Carefully she adjusted the collar on the shirt Tom now wore. One she had replicated for him, using their combined rations, a few minutes ago. She did have to admit the ocean blue fabric did look good on him, it helped to accentuate his eyes. She'd heard smatterings of conversations among some of the women on the ship with regards to the pilot's blue eyes. They'd rambled on about his sky-blue bedroom eyes, and how he could seduce a woman just by looking at her. She hadn't believed it, until now. Even though she and Paris were acting a part, he was looking at her in that smoldering way he had perfected. She hoped the audience which had gathered bought their ruse. B'Elanna warned herself not too look into their ocean depths lest she drown.
"I'll see you again tonight, Cupcake," Tom purred just loud enough to be overhead. "I'll bring the wine."
B'Elanna playfully growled a positive response and wrapped her arms around his neck. Tom encircled her thin waist with his hands and pressed her against him, kissing her firmly on the mouth like they had practiced. Pulling him down closer to her, she brought her mouth close to his ear. "You ever call me Cupcake again, it'll be the last time," she vowed, her voice a hoarse whisper.
"You'll grow to love it," he promised softly. To the other crewmembers in the corridor it looked like they were whispering sweet nothings. "Just like we rehearsed remember," he whispered.
B'Elanna couldn't forget. She'd hardly been able to think of anything else, hoping she would survive the experience without breaking his neck, not that it wouldn't provide some satisfaction.
Pulling back she eyed the pilot, pausing briefly for effect before she once again pulled him down to her level and kissed him. This time she placed her open mouth against his own and moaned. Bringing one hand up, Tom splayed his fingers against her cheek. To any onlooker, it appeared they were passionately French kissing and they were wholeheartedly enjoying it. In reality, only their lips touched, their tongues were idle. Finally, pulling away, they appeared to be spent. Their chests heaved and their lips were lax.
"Don't be late tonight," B'Elanna warned. "I have something *special* planned."
"Special?"
B'Elanna growled deeply.
"Oh, *that* kinda special! I won't be late. It's a promise."
"You'd better go or you *will* be late for your shift," B'Elanna reminded him.
"You're always thinking of me," Tom cooed. "See ya later, Cupcake." Pecking her on the nose, he turned and left, but not before B'Elanna gave him a playful slap on his rear.
Before she ducked back into her cabin, B'Elanna caught a glimpse of their audience. They seemed to be surprised....and interested in what had just transpired.
"I hope he knows what he's doing," B'Elanna murmured and began to get ready for work.
* * * * * *
Seska slammed her glass of booze down hard on the table, sloshing the amber liquid onto the table.
"Take it easy, Seska," Sims urged. "How were we to know they liked each other?"
"And how were we to know our little *game* would be just what they needed to make their relationship more public?" someone else asked.
"I'm not giving up," Seska vowed. "Something's going on between the two of them and it doesn't feel right. I'm keeping an eye on Paris and Torres. If they slip up, I'll know about it."
Seska's eyes darkened with displeasure.
* * * * * *
Two days later, Harry Kim walked into the Messhall after a shift on the bridge.
"What's on the menu?" he asked Neelix as he approached the cook/ambassador.
"Leola Root Casserole or Pleeka Rind Soup."
Harry made a face, but knew with his limited rations he had to make a choice. "Some soup, I think."
Neelix nodded, picked up a bowl and filled it with a large ladle. "If you're looking for Tom, he's over there." Neelix tilted his head to his left. He knew Harry always chose to eat with his best friend if it was possible.
"Thanks, Neelix."
The Talaxian passed him the steaming bowl and a hard roll. "He's not alone," he added, a sly grin spread on his mottled face.
Harry appeared puzzled.
"He's with B'Elanna," the Talaxian explained.
"Oh."
Neelix leaned forward and dropped his voice to a whisper. "You might want to find some place else to sit, they appear to be... preoccupied." He winked for added effect.
"OH!" Now Harry was curious. Taking his meal he rounded the corner and then he noticed the pair. B'Elanna was seated across the table from the pilot. Harry chose a seat which would afford him a good view of the two They were talking quietly, Harry noticed, but every once in a while one or both of them would laugh. He started on his meal, spooning the warm broth into his mouth. Glancing up often, he looked to see if anything else was happening with his friends. He wasn't alone. All the occupants of the dining area were also taking notice.
The Lieutenants continued to enjoy their meal casually, ignoring their audience. Harry saw Tom reached over and lazily run his index finger along the curve of B'Elanna's cheek. It surprised the ensign. It wasn't very long ago if Tom had tried that, he'd risk losing his finger, if not his life. Then if that hadn't been enough, he witnessed B'Elanna tear off a piece of bread and pop it into Tom's willing mouth. Underneath the table he even saw B'Elanna run her booted foot up and down Tom's lower leg.
This just seemed too weird, Harry thought. It was if he was watching some other couple, certainly not his friends. He tried to dismiss the image, attempting to concentrate on his meal.
A few minutes later, the sound of B'Elanna pushing her chair back caught Harry's attention.
"I'll see you tonight," B'Elanna promised. Bending forward she sealed her vow by all but devouring Tom's open, smiling mouth. Satisfied with her performance, she turned around and moved away from the table, affording the pilot a nice view of her backside.
"Until tonight, Cupcake," Tom replied.
B'Elanna's step faltered only a little at hearing the all too common nickname of late, be she was prepared this time.
"I can't wait, Stud-muffin," she called out without turning around.
Tom smiled with pride, and also blushed a little at the endearment. He didn't know B'Elanna had it in her. Of course he should know better by now not to underestimate Voyager's Chief Engineer.
Harry quickly emptied his tray into the recycler and walked over to join Paris before the pilot also left. Seating himself in the chair which B'Elanna had vacated, he leaned forward so he wouldn't be overheard by any of the other crewmembers in the room.
"So what the hell is going on between you and B'Elanna?" Harry asked.
"Going on?" Tom appeared not to understand his friend's meaning.
Harry was exasperated. "Ever since you two came on board, you've been at each others' throats. B'Elanna in particular was always snapping at you, calling you names...and I don't mean cute names. I seem to remember she thought you were a pig, and called you so on a number of occasions. So what's up? You can tell me."
"I'm crushed, Harry! You thought B'Elanna didn't like me?" Tom asked placing his hand against his chest, he appeared to be very innocent and highly offended.
"Yeah." Harry was intent.
The pilot shook his head sadly. "Harry, Harry, Harry...haven't you ever heard of Klingon foreplay?"
"Umm...ah...er..." Harry was befuddled.
Tom stood up from the table and gathered his plate, cup, and utensils on his tray. He bent forward, closer to Harry. "You know, Harry, foreplay...the time before..."
Harry's head snapped up. "I know what foreplay is!." He spoke louder than he'd intended.
Tom's lips curled up, talking louder now so at least the people seated nearest to the pair could hear. "Well Klingon foreplay is just grittier, it begins sooner and lasts longer....but, boy, let me tell you it's well worth it."
Leaving the table, a whistling Tom left behind a gape-mouthed Harry Kim and gossiping crewmembers. Tom laughed silently. The plan was working very well.
* * * * * *
"You should have heard them in the Mess today!"
"I've heard it already, Sims, too many times," Seska groused.
"I tell you I don't know whether to envy Paris or be glad I'm not in his boots."
This caught his friend Ron's attention. "What do you mean?"
"Well Torres is one hot little number, but the emphasis is on hot. I've heard sex with a Klingon can be..."
"Enough!" Seska screamed. Getting up she stormed out of the room.
"What's got into her?" Sims questioned.
"Jealousy I think," someone quipped.
* * * * * *
The minutes to the end of the shift ticked down, each one more slowly than the last.
Of course, it didn't help when you were being scrutinized through the whole shift. He knew the XO was just waiting to pounce on him for any infraction, no matter how minor. It was with a silent sigh of relief, he finally was able to relinquish the helm to beta shift and join Harry at the turbolift.
"Well, it's the end of another shift," Harry said as he and Tom walked toward the turbolift. "How about a game of pool later?"
"Sorry, buddy, can't."
His smile disappeared. "B'Elanna?" Harry questioned, he sounded a bit dejected.
Tom shrugged. "A game of pool just doesn't compare to a private dinner in her cabin," Tom jested.
Those words from Tom were the last thing Chakotay heard before the turbolift door closed. He tried to remain calm, but inside he was seething. Paris hadn't even given him the satisfaction of screwing up during the shift so he could reprimand him. The First Officer had tried everything during the last several hours to break the pilot's good mood. He had him run unnecessary systems' checks and made him recalibrate the navigational array, even though Tom had performed that same task the day before. Everything he ordered the younger man to do had been done promptly, professionally, and courteously. It was absolutely maddening.
At least I have the satisfaction of knowing the crew can't tell I'm upset, he thought with pride. For years he had mastered self control, wanting to look cool and calm in any crisis. It was a sign of a excellent leader, his father Kolopak had once told him.
Hearing the turbolift door open again, Chakotay turned at the sound. He saw Janeway enter the bridge. She looked poised as usual, so confident. As was her custom she'd join him at the start of beta shift for an hour or two. They'd make sure everything was running appropriately and then adjourn to her office to review the next day's assignments.
Janeway passed by the Tactical station and greeted the crewmember who was stationed there before she joined Chakotay. Seating herself next to her First Officer, she scrutinized him briefly.
"So why are you so upset?" she asked.
The tattooed man was speechless.
* * * * * * *
According to plan, B'Elanna met Tom outside her door and before he stepped inside she kissed him soundly, but again with only the lips. They smiled broadly, appearing to be enjoying themselves, and then they stepped inside letting the door slid shut behind them.
"It's been eight days, Paris," B'Elanna snapped, her smile having vanished. "How much longer do we have to keep this up?"
"I thought we agreed not until Chakotay cracked?"
B'Elanna moved over to the replicator and removed their meal for the night--pot roast with red-skinned potatoes and carrots."Like that's ever going to happen," she groused.
Paris helped her move the plates to the table. He noticed B'Elanna had taken the time to place a vase of flowers along with some of her candles on the table. The light from the candles danced off the vase and the walls. Seemed strange to him, if she didn't like their little game, she'd go to so much trouble. He knew better than to ask her about it though. Accept it, he thought. Enjoy it while it lasts.
"So what did you do today," Tom asked after they both sat down.
B'Elanna stabbed a carrot with her fork and shrugged. "Nothing much, just fixing up things, and keeping the warp core humming."
"You do that very well."
B'Elanna shrugged again. "Ah, thanks." She wasn't used to receiving compliments.
"So what's the status on the engineers? Are they squirming?"
Fork poised in mid-air, the chief engineer grinned. "Oh yeah. You should have seen their faces when you called me over the comm badge during your break especially Seska."
Tom looked thoughtful remembering the message, delivered in a sexy baritone drawl which he'd perfected. "Tom Paris to Cupcake, can we get together for *dessert* tonight?"
"It's a wonder I didn't lose it," she admitted. "I've told you before I don't like to be called Cupcake."
"Well Sweet Lips is my next option," the pilot replied trying to look serious.
B'Elanna cut into the pot roast, choosing to ignore the comment. "And how was it on the bridge today? I understand Chakotay kept you busy."
Tom laughed. "Oh yeah, but I kept him guessing. He even asked me to realign the navigational array again."
"But you did that yesterday!"
"Tell me about it. But our theatrical professor would have been proud, I did it without a single complaint. Of course, just knowing Chakotay was barely controlling his temper was icing on the cake." Tom chewed thoughtfully on a carrot and then smiled.
"He was upset?" B'Elanna asked. "How could you tell? Chakotay always looks so calm and in control."
"You're kidding?"
She shook her head. "No."
"Watch him next time, when he gets upset his right eyebrow twitches, and his left eye squints a bit."
"Really?"
"Well that, and I could have sworn he was tapping out Starfleet code on the armrest with his fingers. If I'm not mistaken it said "Paris, you are deadmeat."
B'Elanna covered his mouth with her hand and laughed. Tom grinned proudly. He liked her Klingon sense of humor, it closely matched his own.
They continued to talk, finding it quite enjoyable to B'Elanna's surprise. Every time they got together it just got better. She now considered Tom to be a friend. Quite an admission considering a short time ago she'd accused him of being a pig and a bad influence on Harry. The last couple of days she even had to admit she was going to miss his company.
Picking up after the dinner, they adjourned to the living area. B'Elanna sat down first on one end of the sofa, with Tom taking a position on the other end.
B'Elanna started to speak, but a yawn escaped her.
"Long day, huh?" Tom asked.
"Yeah, I should sleep good tonight."
B'Elanna yawned again and toed off her boots. With her feet free she placed one foot up on the opposite thigh and began to massage it.
"Here, let me do that."
"You're kidding?" She was surprised by the offer.
Tom shook his head and picked up a pillow from his end of the sofa. "Just kick off the other boot and turn around here. You can put this pillow behind your back. Then leave it all to me."
B'Elanna was dubious, but the sound of a foot massage was just too good to pass up. She turned around, placed the offered pilow behind her head, and tentatively placed her foot on Paris' lap.
Strong hands expertly massaged the engineer's foot. "Lay back, B'Elanna," he urged. "Rest your eyes."
After waiting for B'Elanna to do as he suggested, Tom began to rub her feet. He started gently, rubbing with the heel of his hand, not wanting to know if B'Elanna was ticklish or not. When her muscles started to relax he applied more strength using his thumbs, kneading away the tension. From the way B'Elanna sighed and emitted a velvety growl, Tom knew she was enjoying herself. So was he, he could listen to that rumble from her throat forever he mused. It did something interesting to his insides.
This is lovely, B'Elanna thought succumbing to Paris' attentions. She couldn't remember the last time someone had massaged her feet other than herself. To be honest, she admitted, no one had ever done it before. It was heaven, simply heaven. She sighed and closed her eyes like Paris suggested. It felt so good, she could easly just fall asl..."
Minutes passed. Tom noticed B'Elanna was breathing more shallowly and looked very relaxed. His fingers paused their ministrations. She's asleep, he realized. Now what? Should he stay a little bit longer for effect and then leave, or what? It wouldn't be right to leave her here on the sofa for the night, he thought.
Waiting a bit longer to make sure she was truly soundly asleep, he rose from the sofa and slipped his arms under her lithe body. Pulling her against his chest, B'Elanna's head rolled against his shoulder and she sighed in her sleep.
"Come on, B'Elanna," he whispered, "I'm going to put you to bed."
"Kay," she murmured softly. Tom's heart skipped a beat, he hadn't expected her to respond.
Gently he stood up and carefully he wove around the sofa and walked over to her bed. Placing her on the bed, he folded the bed linen over her, cocooning her body in warmth. She looked so beautiful, so...so... He just couldn't resist. Bending over her, he placed his lips against her own, kissing her gently, ever so gently, not wanting to wake the sleeping beauty.
"Don't go," she breathed.
Tom was floored, never expecting to hear those words pass her lips, even in her sleep.
Deciding he'd pay attention to those words, at least in some degree, he kissed her again and then settled down on the sofa, pulling the lap blanket over his long frame. And he slept dreaming of B'Elanna Torres.
* * * * * *
Janeway looked at her senior staff sitting around the conference table. They'd only been in the Delta Quadrant a few months, but they were already turning into one fine crew -- even Voyager's latest love birds, Tom and B'Elanna. Not that their relationship was setting well with her First Officer. She knew he didn't approve of the pairing. Perhaps, she thought, what the two men needed to clear the air was more time together? In a working environment, maybe they could find a common understanding and work out their differences.
Satisfied everyone was ready to begin, Janeway rose from her chair. "People," she began. "As you all know, Lt. Tuvok and various other members of the crew have been mapping geological formations the past week. I congratulate Mr. Tuvok and the others on their diligent efforts."
Tuvok bowed his dark head, accepting her praise.
"I believe they have earned a break from their duties."
Everyone at the table, except Tuvok, nodded, agreeing with Janeway.
"I've decided I'm going to send Lt. Commander Chakotay and Lt. Paris on the final survey."
Paris looked across the table at the First Officer. Already the man's right eyebrow was twitching. It was only a matter of time before the left eye began to squint.
"The mission should only last a seven or eight hours," Janeway continued. "Just enough time to fly over the fifth and sixth planets and collect the appropriate data. We'll then extrapolate the information when you return to Voyager." She looked around the table at her senior staff. "Any questions?"
Tom looked up at the Captain, and started to speak. "Er..."
"Good," she interrupted. "We'll see you back on board Voyager late this evening. Dismissed."
* * * * * *
"One more rotation, and we'll be done," Chakotay announced. "Let's take the polar route."
"Yes, sir." Tom had been careful to remain professional throughout the mission.
Chakotay had so much to say to Paris. Questions to ask, threats to make, but he didn't know where to begin, and the mission was almost at an end.
"Er... Paris?"
Tom laid in the course with practiced ease. "Aye, sir."
"I've been meaning to ask you about B'Elanna."
Just when he thought the subject wouldn't get brought up. "What about her, Commander?"
"How serious are you about this relationship?"
"Serious?"
The eyebrow twitched in double time. "Serious, Paris. Do you see a future in it?"
Good question, Tom thought. He'd been wondering that himself the last few days. Thinking their little game was almost over was too much to bear. Tom had enjoyed the last several days. The more he'd gotten to know B'Elanna, the more he liked her. He'd come to look forward to their time together. Her conversation was witty and amusing, with a hard edge to it which he enjoyed.
"I suppose that's up to her," Paris replied.
Which was true. If she did want to continue seeing him, he wouldn't press the matter, but it would have to be her decision. He didn't want B'Elanna to think he was forcing himself on her.
"What's that suppose to mean? Do you take the relationship seriously or not?"
Tom didn't know how to respond, or what the older man wanted to hear.
"I warn you, Paris, I don't like you and B'Elanna being together, but if you break her heart, I'll break your neck!"
The pilot turned around in his seat. "I'm sure if B'Elanna doesn't want me in her life, she can take care of breaking my neck herself!" he snapped. "Besides, what makes you think this is all that serious?"
Chakotay was momentarily speechless. "I've seen the way she looks at you. I don't like it, but I've seen that look on her before, back when we were in the Maquis."
Tom had no idea. "She was involved with someone then?" he asked.
"No, not involved. But she cared about one of the crew a great deal. I don't think she would have admitted it to me at the time, but well, she'd had a little too much to drink one night."
"Slipped out, huh?"
"Yeah. Guess so. B'Elanna's been hurt too much in the past, I won't see it happen again, even if I have to do something about it."
"Must have been one lucky guy," Tom admitted, his heart in his throat.
Chakotay eyed him intently. "He still is."
Tom looked stunned.
"Me?" he mouthed, pointing to himself.
The First Officer bobbed his head not looking very happy.
::::Ship approaching at Warp 6, bearing course 2.4.95.::::
The abrupt alert from the computer brought both men back to the business at hand. Tom turned back to the helm controls and Chakotay activated communications.
"Approaching ship, this is the Chamberlain. Please respond."
Only static was heard over the speakers. Chakotay didn't like the feeling of this situation.
"Raise shields and get us out of here, Tom."
Tom had already keyed in the coordinates anticipating the command. "Aye."
"I'm attempting to raise Voyager."
"Commander, I can't initiate warp. The ship admitted some type of dampening field or something, the best I can do is impulse."
"Communications is also off-line. Do your best to evade them, Paris, I'll continue to try and contact the..."
<<BOOM!>>
The shuttle rocked to her side from the force of the blast, completely disabling the Chamberlain's shields and sending the two occupants of the shuttle crashing to the deck.
Feeling lightheaded from the impact of the blast, Tom grabbed the edge of the console for support. He pulled himself up, knowing he had to wipe the ship's memory before the aliens were able to extract vital information. Looking to his left he saw Chakotay still laying on the deck. Tom hoped he was just unconscious and not dead.
It was all up to him, Paris realized. Quickly, he tapped in the necessary instructions into the shuttle's computer.
Just as he finished entering the last sequence of keystrokes, Tom heard the sound of a transporter behind him. Turning, he saw a pair of aliens. Both individuals were pale, to the point of being almost translucent. Tom could see the veins which carried their life fluid clearly through their skin. That was the last thing he remembered before one of the aliens raised his arm, turned his wrist, and the pilot was struck in the right shoulder by some type of energy blast.
* * * * * *
"Captain," Harry called out. "I can't contact the Chamberlain."
Janeway, who was seated in her command chair, turned toward the ensign.
"Long range sensors indicated another ship approached the shuttle," Tuvok supplied.
The Captain quickly launched herself out of her seat and joined her Tactical Officer at his station. Standing beside him, she observed the information on Tuvok's console. "Why didn't we detect this ship?"
Tuvok accessed the ship's information systems. "Unknown, Captain. The other ship dropped out of sub-space, possibly interacted with the Chamberlain, and then departed."
"Set course for the Chamberlain, top speed," she ordered.
The helmsmen laid in the course immediately, and Voyager shot forward, prepared to rescue Chakotay and Paris.
Harry manned the communication station. He intently focused on the information displayed on his computer screen, waiting for any sign the Chamberlain's crew was receiving the message he had transmitted. Tuvok continually monitored his instruments looking for the mystery ship to reappear. Then in an instant, Voyager dropped out warp.
"Report!" Janeway barked.
"This area of space is corrupt," Tuvok explained.
"Corrupt?"
"Our warp frequencies are being negated, Captain." "I am unsure if this is a natural phenomenon or if it was artificially created."
"By the other ship?"
"It is possible."
Janeway groaned and rubbed her temples. "Solutions?"
"None at the present time."
"Top speed?" she asked.
"Impulse only, until we clear this area of space."
"So how long until we reach the shuttle?"
"According to my calculations, 35.4 hours."
Janeway turned away from the Vulcan to face the rest of the bridge crew. "Proceed at impulse to the shuttle. Harry, you and Tuvok, work on trying to circumvent the warp problem. I'll contact B'Elanna and inform her of the situation."
* * * * * *
"You asked to see me, Captain?" B'Elanna asked as soon as she entered the Captain's ready room. She'd already met with Tuvok and Harry, and was waiting for them to complete a series of trials before she joined them again. In the meantime, Janeway requested her presence.
"Come in, B'Elanna," Janeway offered. She was already seated on the sofa which lined the large viewport.
The engineer wrapped her arms around herself and walked closer to the captain.
"Have a seat. It's time we have a talk." She patted the area beside her.
B'Elanna lowered herself onto the sofa and faced the older woman. Instinctively her stomach clenched anticipating bad news.
"By now you know the shuttle is in trouble," Janeway started.
B'Elanna nodded.
"And we haven't been able to contact either Mr. Paris or Chakotay."
B'Elanna tried to swallow down a lump in her throat which had been there ever since she heard they were in trouble.
Janeway leaned closer to the engineer. "I realize you and Tom have become very close the last week or two. I wanted to tell you myself. I didn't want you to hear it from someone else."
"I...I thought som..something was wrong," B'Elanna stammered. "It wasn't suppose to be like this."
Janeway nodded. "I know, the mission..."
"I don't mean the mission," the younger woman admitted looking down. "I shouldn't be feeling this way...this...this empty." It was only suppose to last a week to ten days," she explained. "I mean even if it hadn't been for the past couple of weeks, I'd still be worried about them, but this is stronger. I feel half of me has been ripped away."
The Captain looked puzzled and worried, she'd never seen B'Elanna like this. The half-Klingon looked lost. "I'm afraid I'm a little confused. What was suppose to last a week to ten days?"
B'Elanna looked up at the Captain. "That's right, you don't know. No one knows except Tom and me."
"Maybe you should explain?"
The engineer nodded. "There's no need to keep it a secret any longer. We were suppose to tell everyone by now anyway."
"Let me get you something to drink? Tea?" B'Elanna nodded. "And then you can tell me. I don't think Harry or Tuvok will be ready for you for at least another thirty minutes will they?"
"Tuvok says twenty-eight minutes, and thirty-two seconds."
Janeway smiled as she requested a cup of coffee and tea from her replicator. "Tuvok is always so Vulcan." She laughed. "I guess you can't ask him to be less than he is," she remarked passing B'Elanna her tea. "Be careful, it's hot."
B'Elanna nodded and took a tentative sip. The Captain hadn't forgot she liked her tea strong and sweet.
Returning to her seat, Janeway sipped at her own coffee before she spoke. "Tell me what happened, B'Elanna. Whatever you say will stay confidential."
"Thanks, Captain. When we first came on board, I know I wouldn't be confiding in you, but things have changed." B'Elanna smiled softly. Since she had become Chief Engineer she'd started to respect Kathryn Janeway. "It seems so long ago when all this started." B'Elanna hesitated not knowing exactly how to relate the information to her superior officer. The beginning was always a good place to begin a story, B'Elanna thought. She'd start there. "Do you remember about a week and a half ago when we had a series of problems with the transporter and the warp core?"
Janeway nodded.
"Well I wasn't in a very good mood that day. Everything my crew seemed to touch required my attention. I guess I woke up on the wrong side of the bed not only that morning, but probably for several days before then. I was angry and looked forward at the end of my shift to spend some time quiet time in my quarters. Except, I found when I got there that evening, I wasn't alone."
This piqued Janeway's attention.
"When I entered my cabin, I called for minimal illumination. When I heard moans coming from my bed area, I asked for full illumination. There on my bed lay Lt. Paris, his wrists tied to my headboard, and his feet to the bed's lower legs. He had been gagged, which was why he could only moan."
"Was he injured?"
B'Elanna shook her head, a smiled played on her face at the memory. "No, only his pride, for you see they had also stripped him, leaving only his black briefs on."
This wasn't the sort of information she had expected to hear from B'Elanna, and she was uncharacteristically at a loss for words. Taking another sip of java she covered up her loss of composure.
"Naturally I tried to untie him. They had purposefully trussed him up so I had to first untie the wrist furthest away from me. The only way to do that, was to lean over his body. As soon as I had untied him, Tom pulled down the gag and told me we were being filmed."
Janeway sputtered, almost choking on her coffee. "I'm sorry," she said after she composed herself. "Please continue. This is getting very interesting."
"It is rather unorthodox, isn't it?"
The Captain nodded.
"But then again, Tom Paris, was involved and you have to admit he's never ordinary."
"Very true."
"So after I destroyed the holo-imager, I wanted to kick Tom out of my quarters, but whoever had done this hadn't left behind any clothing for him. I didn't have enough replicator rations to spend on clothing, and I wasn't going let him be seen leaving my cabin almost totally nude. So we talked about our predicament." B'Elanna recalled how impatient she'd been with Tom, not willing to trust him at first. "Tom came up with a plan. Initially, I didn't want to go along with it, but it just seemed to make sense. I guess it's my Klingon sense of humor or something," B'Elanna admitted.
"So what did you do?" What was the plan?" She was intrigued.
"Tom suggested we pretend to be madly in love."
"In love?"
"He told me whoever the culprit was, wanted me to be angry, so that was the last thing we should give them. So we drew out the entire plan, calculating seven to ten days would be enough time for people to suffer."
"Chakotay certainly hasn't been happy," Janeway noted.
B'Elanna nodded sipping her tea. "I know. That was same evening someone gave him a picture of Tom and myself, carefully cropped, making it look like we were in a very compromising position. When I tried to tell him what had actually occurred, he wouldn't take the time to listen to me. So I figured, he deserved to squirm as much as anyone else."
A sympathetic smile crossed Janeway's face. "Can't say I blame you. So all these loving looks between you and Tom and the pet names...Cupcake wasn't it?"
B'Elanna nodded. "And Stud-Muffin," she added.
"Ah, yes Stud-Muffin. Delightful name. Fitting I think."
"Thanks, I think Tom especially liked it, though he wouldn't let on."
"I'm sure he did."
"Anyway, this was all suppose to be pretend. Except for me, it stopped being pretend, Captain. I didn't plan on it, but I think I may be falling in love with him. I thought I'd gotten over him after he left the Maquis, but the feeling is back, and it's even stronger than before."
"The Maquis?"
"He doesn't know I liked him then. Tom thought I despised him during our time with the Maquis, and I did, especially when he left. Paris had proven what Chakotay had always told me about him, that he couldn't be trusted. But there was always something about Paris which drew me to him. Maybe it's the way he makes you feel so comfortable around him or those blue eyes of his. And there is that way his lip... Ah, I'm sorry, Captain." B'Elanna was rambling. She hadn't planned to say so much.
"Or the way his lip curls up when he smiles at you. And you are sure he's never looked at anybody like that before," Janeway finished. "Or that wicked way he says 'Yes, Ma'am.'" She smiled fondly. "To not notice Mr. Paris' attributes you'd have to be deprived of all your senses, B'Elanna. Don't be ashamed." Reaching over she patted B'Elanna's hand.
"But what can I do, Captain?" B'Elanna looked uncharacteristically lost. "If I admit to him how I feel and he doesn't return my...my affections, then I'd feel...so humiliated. But if something happens to Tom and I'm never able to tell him how I feel..." At a loss of words B'Elanna shrugged.
"We'll get them back, B'Elanna," Janeway vowed. Hoping that was true. "Go back and help Tuvok and Harry, your twenty-eight minutes, and thirty-two seconds must be almost up."
* * * * * *
Tom opened his eyes slowly to find the Commander kneeling over him, tending to his shoulder wound.
Chakotay pressed a piece of cloth he'd torn from his pant leg against the pilot's torn flesh. Tom hissed in pain.
"Sorry, Paris, but whoever our guests were ransacked the place and smashed the medkit."
"Thought you...were dead,"Tom squeezed out, through clenched teeth.
"Nope, have a hell of a headache though."
"Good."
"That I have a headache?"
Tom rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore the question. "Voyager?" he asked instead.
The older man continued to daub at the blood. "I haven't been able to raise them, our guests must have damaged the communication relays during their visit. I'm not sure what they were looking for, but the computer's memory appears to be empty."
Paris nodded. "I did it."
Chakotay nodded and helped the pilot sit up, propping him against one of the consoles. Having fashioned his undershirt into a crude sling, he wrapped it around Paris. He then preceded to position the right arm into the sling, taking some weight off the shoulder.
"Better?" the First Officer asked.
Tom nodded. "When I woke after we were first hit, I was able to clear the computer's memory before the aliens beamed on board."
"Looks like you earned your rank today, Paris," Chakotay remarked begrudgingly. He was somewhat surprised Tom would have thought to take care of that chore. "What did the aliens look like."
"Ugly as sin," Tom replied through tight lips, pain was evident in his voice. Almost invisible, white as a ghost. You could even see their blood veins." Tom shuddered at the memory. "How long has it been?" he asked, changing the subject.
Chakotay shrugged. "Don't really know, with the computer not functioning. Looks like only environmental controls are working, we should be thankful for that I suppose."
Tom shot him a look.
"Voyager hasn't forgotten us, I'm sure...Janeway is probably on her way. It's only a matter of time before they find us." The First Officer pulled himself up to his feet, having to duck to avoid a piece of the ceiling which had been partially dislodged. "You hungry?"
Tom thought for a moment, and then nodded.
"Good. I'm going to see if they left any of the emergency rations. Take it easy, I'll be right back."
From the noise of falling debris and a few Indian curses, Tom could tell Chakotay wasn't having an easy time trying to find something for them to eat. Shutting his eyes, Tom, thought back to the last time he'd seen B'Elanna. Seemed like all his waking thoughts centered on her lately. Not that was necessarily bad, it just wasn't like him to be so...so obsessed with a woman. Sure he'd always liked female companionship, but he'd never met a woman like B'Elanna Torres before. She was special.
The sound of scraping metal against the deck, caused Tom to open his eyes. Chakotay stood before him looking pleased.
"Well I found three ration bars, two jugs of water, and a..." He looked at his treasures again. "A...well...it's something Neelix put together, can't remember what it was he called it, but he seemed to think it was edible."
"A feast," Tom pronounced.
"I guess so."
Dropping to one knee, Chakotay placed an open jug of water in Paris' left hand.
Bringing the water up to his dry lips, the injured man drank greedily from the container.
"Not too much, Paris," Chakotay cautioned. "We don't know how long it will take Voyager to find us."
* * * * * * *
"I've readjusted the frequency. Try it again, Harry," B'Elanna urged.
Harry pressed the button to activate the warp shield, as they had started to call it. Nothing happened at first, but gradually the computer indicated the shield was working, maybe not optimally, but it was functioning.
B'Elanna smiled and slapped Tuvok on the back, startling him momentarily.
"Good work," she declared and tapped her commbadge. "Torres to the Captain, you can initiate warp, but I would suggest not taking it over Warp 2."
"Good work, B'Elanna. It shouldn't take us long to catch up with the Chamberlain. Janeway out."
* * * * * * *
Tom passed Chakotay his water container which the First Officer placed on the floor. Breaking off a piece of the ration bar, the First Officer passed it to Paris.
"You'd think they could develop better tasting rations," Tom grumbled and began to nibble at the piece.
"Maybe you should speak to the doctor about it," Chakotay offered.
Tom laughed. "Don't know if that's a good idea. Who do you think he'd use as a guinea pig? He can't eat which eliminates himself. Kes seems to have a taste for Neelix's grub. Which would probably leave yours truly."
"Well if that was the case you'd be able to offer your gourmet input. In the end whatever he came up with would be something you liked," Chakotay reasoned.
"If I could survive all the taste tests in between," Tom groused.
A grin spread over Chakotay's face but then quickly faded. "You like B'Elanna?" he asked, reverting back to the original conversation from before the ship was attacked.
"Yeah. I always have, I just didn't know this game we've been playing would hit me so hard." With his free hand, Tom touched his chest.
"Game?
Tom snorted. "You still think the picture of B'Elanna and I was taken the night of Harry's party?"
Chakotay shrugged.
"It wasn't. The night of Harry's party, I brought B'Elanna back to her cabin, and tucked her into bed, but that was it."
"If you say so."
"Damn it, Chakotay! I didn't do anything. I even put her to bed fully clothed! Just what do you think I am, that I'd resort to assaulting a woman who was intoxicated?"
The older man was silent.
"You know the holopic you had?" Tom continued. "The one you gave B'Elanna? It was taken in her cabin that same evening. When you gave it to her, I was hiding in her bathroom with a blanket wrapped around me."
"So you did...did..."
"Have sex with her?" Tom asked bluntly and then shook his head. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I didn't. After I left my shift that afternoon, I was ambushed in one of Voyager's corridors. Someone threw something over my head so I couldn't see, and the next thing I knew I was waking up on B'Elanna's bed. Whoever did it had stripped me, gagged me, and tied me to the bed. They even went to the trouble of planting a camera in the room so they'd have evidence of the event."
"But B'Elanna was leaning over you in the holopic," the First Officer argued.
"She was trying to untie me."
"So why didn't she say so? Why didn't both of you explain what had happened?"
"Probably because we knew no one would believe us. And we knew if we were upset about it, whoever did it, would be getting exactly what they wanted. We weren't about to give them the satisfaction, so we gave them something they wouldn't expect."
"You two pretended to be a couple?"
"Not just a couple," Tom explained. "We've been *pretending* to be passionately in love, right down to the pet names and goofy looks. Except..." He paused.
"Except?"
Tom looked directly at the First Officer, his gaze not wavering. "Except, it stopped being pretend, at least for me."
Chakotay looked stunned.
"Go ahead, you can laugh if you want to," Tom remarked. "Don't you think it's funny Tom Paris has finally been brought to his knees? Did you ever expect to hear that I can't look at another woman now without comparing her to B'Elanna Torres?"
* * * * * *
"Captain, I can bring the Chamberlain up on the viewscreen."
Janeway sat up straighter in her seat. "Very good, Mr. Kim, do it."
Harry instructed the computer to display the shuttlecraft on the main screen. What the crew saw made them gasp. The ship was badly scarred, and listing to starboard.
"How soon before we are within transporter range, Mr. Tuvok?"
"Fourteen minutes, Captain."
"Proceed. When you get within range transport Commander Chakotay and Lt. Paris to Sickbay and the Chamberlain into the shuttlebay."
"Aye, Captain."
* * * * * *
B'Elanna Torres waited impatiently outside Sickbay. She'd never been good at waiting and this time was certainly no different. She had so much to say to Paris. And she hoped he would be able to reciprocate some of what she felt.
Watching the Chief Engineer pace back in forth in front of Sickbay was just too much for Seska to bear. She'd tried everything to get her "friend" upset. After all, she reasoned, the woman had deserved it for making her work so hard.
"Waiting for the death certificate?" Seska sneered.
B'Elanna jolted from her thoughts looked up at the Bajoran, surprised at the malice she saw reflected in the woman's eyes. "No one's dead yet, Seska. But if you keep it up, I'll put you on top of the list," she threatened.
"Hey, B'Elanna, I was just trying to shake you out of your gloom," Seska countered hands raised.
"Hell of a way to do that, Seska."
Seska moved closer to B'Elanna. "Being that we are both Maquis, you can tell me."
"Tell you what?"
"What is it you see in Paris? I always thought you hated him for what he did to the Maquis."
"I don't think we ever knew the whole story," B'Elanna admitted. "I know him, and he's not the kind of person to run out on anyone."
"Are we talking about the same person, B'Elanna? Tom Paris, the walking male hormone?" Seska demanded.
"He's not what you think, Seska. He's..."
"Chakotay..."
"Chakotay doesn't know the Tom Paris I know, Seska.
"But you've always respected Chakotay. He'll be very disappointed in you."
"Time to grow up," B'Elanna remarked. "I'll always respect him, but I've matured enough to know no one is right all the time. I know he thought he was protecting me in the past, but he has to realize I'm old enough to take care of myself. If I do make a mistake, it'll be mine to make."
"But, B'Elanna..."
"That's enough, Seska," B'Elanna warned, the tone of her voice was deadly. "I should have skinned you and your *friends* alive for what you did to Tom and me."
Seska took a step back.
"It was you, wasn't it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, B'Elanna."
"Cut it, Seska. I should have realized it before. It's so obvious. It had your signature all over it. I know you've always derived some type of sadistic, manipulating pleasure tying people up and making them dance to your tune. Well it won't work this time! Just be glad I'm letting you learn from this experience. But I suppose I do have you to thank for one thing."
Seska's eyes widened.
"If it wasn't for you, I'd never know what a good man Tom Paris is."
"I th..think I'm going to be late for my shift," Seska stammered.
B'Elanna nodded. "If you don't hurry up you will be. Just make sure you are very thorough when you degauss the port nacelles. I want them clean enough to eat on."
Silently Seska slipped away, just as the doors to Sickbay slid open.
The EMH called out. "You can come in now, Lieutenant."
"Thank you."
Stepping into the Doctor's domain, she saw Chakotay and Tom both resting on biobeds.
Passing by Chakotay's bed first, the First Officer beckoned her closer and placed a hand on her arm.
"You don't have to pretend any more, B'Elanna," he whispered and squeezed her arm expressing his support for his friend.
B'Elanna smiled. "I know."
Chakotay smiled back.
She patted the First Officer's hand before she removed it from her arm, and stepped away, moving on to where Tom lay. She cautiously approached the bed.
"I understand you got hurt?"
"Just a flesh wound, huh, Chakotay?" Tom replied, speaking up so the senior officer could hear. Chakotay mumbled something that couldn't be understood.
"The Doctor said you suffered third-degree burns and lost a lot of blood," she explained.
Tom shrugged. "I feel much better now, especially since you're here."
B'Elanna stole a glance at Chakotay.
"He knows, B'Elanna. I explained everything to him."
"He knows we were set up."
"Oh."
Pushing up on his elbows, Paris faced B'Elanna. "The game is over, B'Elanna."
The half-Klingon's stomachs twisted.
"Over?"
"You sound disappointed." Dare he hope?
<Do it! Don't be a coward!> "I guess I am disappointed. I've grown to enjoy the last couple of weeks."
Tom had to remind himself to breathe. "What are you saying, B'Elanna?"
"If...um...well...you see...HELL!" She encircled his neck with her arms and kissed him deeply, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. It took the pilot only a moment to realize what she was saying through body language. Soon his tongue tangled with her own.
"This is a Sickbay, not the backseat of a 1957 Chevy!" the Doctor roared.
* * * * * *
Paris sighed contentedly, perspiration beaded on his forehead. Somewhere beneath the sheets he could hear B'Elanna growl, it made him smile with satisfaction. Pulling up the sheets, he could see her grin ferally at him from between his legs.
"Come on up here, B'Elanna," he urged.
The half-Klingon crawled up his body and settled herself on his chest. She noted his chest hair tickled her bare breasts and found she liked the sensation.
"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" she purred.
Tom smiled broadly. "Hmmmmm."
"Tom?"
"Hmmmmm."
"Can we do it again?"
"Again? It's true what they say about voracious Klingons and sex, isn't it?"
"Are you complaining?" she growled.
Pulling her up further, he kissed her on her mouth. "Oh, no, I am certainly not complaining, B'Elanna. I'm ready whenever you are."
"Ah, Tom?"
"Yeah."
"This time when you do it, can you call me Cupcake?"
The End.
Email is of course greatly appreciated. kelhapam@worldpath.net
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