Enemy of My Enemy -
A Matter of a Moment

by  Vicki James

Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager and its characters are the property of Paramount. This story does not mean to infringe upon the trademarks or copyrights of Paramount.

EOME is a series of Voyager stories which are based on the premise that the Maquis ship was not destroyed in "Caretaker." Given that there is no name in canon for the Maquis ship, this series calls it "Fides," which is Latin for "Faith."

The order of the EOME series:
Confederation
Follow the Leader
Casualty and Confession
Food for Thought
Change of Command
Cracks in Time's Mirror
Fides Violare
Fletcher Christian Was in Starfleet
Far From My Home
Judas Kiss Part One
Judas Kiss Part Two
Wi-na-de-ya-ho (A New Day)
A Matter of a Moment

Please do not distribute without Vicki's permission. Thanks.

*****

The door closed firmly behind her, effectively silencing the routine chaos and clamour of the rest of the ship beyond. The blissful silence was broken only by B’Elanna’s huge sigh of relief as she flopped onto her back and closed her eyes.

‘Just ten minutes of peace and quiet. That’s all I need. Then I can get back to dealing with this hellish day.’

She supposed she’d had worse days before. Hand-to-hand combat with bad-tempered Cardassians? Yeah, days when she had done that would probably qualify. As would firefights with surly Kazon and trying to keep her faltering ship in one piece during any number of battles.

But somehow, compared to this day, those scenarios seemed like fond memories.

She had been awakened that morning by a page from Chakotay, himself sounding a bit less calm than normal even at that early hour, asking if she could please come look at the replicator, as it wasn’t working again. At first, it hadn’t seemed to be too much of a problem, however its repair did require parts from Voyager, which necessitated both ships having to drop out of warp so that someone could bring the supplies over to Fides.

Once the replicator was again functioning, B’Elanna had thought she’d grab a quick bite before getting on with her daily duties. That’s when Ayala had contacted her from the bridge. Apparently something was going on with the environmental controls - the temperature on the bridge was making it feel like a Risan resort.

Of course, the environmental controls were accessed from the engineering room, where the temperature had plunged in the opposite direction. By the time she had the problem sorted out she felt chilled to the bone; this in contrast to her temper, which was quickly rising.

When Ashmore had beamed over to Fides with the parts for the replicator, he’d mentioned that there was a small matter on Voyager that Carey had wanted B’Elanna to take a look at when she had the chance. She figured that she might as well go over to the Starfleet vessel now while the ships were still travelling at impulse, for then she could be back on her own ship before they returned to warp speed.

As this definitely was not meant to be her day, the "small matter" that Ashmore had spoken of turned out to be a much greater dilemma, a problem with the antimatter reaction rate which needed to be rectified immediately or there was a distinct possibility that Voyager’s warp nacelles could be compromised.

B’Elanna and Carey had contacted Janeway about the problem; Janeway had called a meeting of the senior staff to provide solutions. B’Elanna had bowed out of the meeting, needing to continue working on a stopgap measure until plans for a permanent remedy could be set in place.

While she was in the midst of this task, at least two minor emergencies unfolded in engineering which required her attention as Carey had left to attend the staff meeting. By the time she had those problems rectified, she knew if she didn’t get a moment’s peace soon she was going to explode - Starfleet’s and Chakotay’s view on proper conduct for senior personnel be damned!

So now she was attempting to get just ten minutes rest. Even if it was lying flat on her back in jefferies tube 16.

Chakotay had once tried to teach her to meditate. She hadn’t been very good at it, but right now she at least tried to apply his principles of relaxed breathing to bring on a calmer state. And it seemed to be working! She could already feel some of the tension start to ease from her body.

Then her damned Starfleet commbadge sounded.

"Janeway to Torres."

B’Elanna uttered a particularly vulgar Klingon oath. What was the use in trying to rest! She just needed to get this day over and done with.

"Torres here."

"B’Elanna, please report to the conference room. I believe we have found a solution to the problem."

"On my way."

Well, maybe things were looking up.

*****

Only Janeway and Chakotay remained in the conference room, the rest of the staff having been dismissed from the meeting to return to their posts.

Janeway, looking rather pleased, got right to the point when B’Elanna arrived.

"We’ve had a stroke of luck, it seems. We managed to contact a mining colony in this sector, hoping that they might be able to provide us with some information about where we could obtain tellurium. It turns out that they have a supply of tellurium on hand, and would be willing to provide us with enough to get us to an outpost where we can fully restock. In exchange, all they have asked is that we assist with some systems repairs. Fortunately you’re familiar with the specifications of their systems."

"Great!" B’Elanna was surprised, and very much relieved, that they had found an immediate solution to the problem affecting the warp drive.

"Here are the details on the repair work the mining colony provided us with," Chakotay said, handing her a PADD. "Collect whatever equipment and parts you’ll need and report to shuttle bay two."

"The atmospheric conditions of the colony planet are rather severe so I’m sending Lieutenant Paris to pilot you in," Janeway added.

"Oh," B’Elanna said. "Well, I’m sure I could pilot the shuttle myself."

"I’m not doubting your piloting skills, B’Elanna, but I’ll feel better having Tom take you in."

"But you must need him here." B’Elanna attempted to keep her voice light. "I’m sure there’s someone else..."

Janeway’s brow rose slightly. "The ship’s at full stop. I think we can afford to let Tom leave the helm."

"But..."

"B’Elanna," Chakotay said, a hint of sharpness in his tone, "report to shuttle bay two, as ordered!"

"I...aye Captain," B'Elanna said defeatedly. Though she spoke to Janeway, belatedly acknowledging her directive, it was Chakotay's command that she was truly acceding to.

Janeway regarded Chakotay quizzically after B’Elanna had strode from the room.

"Do you have any idea what that was all about?"

Chakotay shook his head. "None at all."

The Captain shrugged. "Well, I guess we can’t expect all our crew to be close."

‘Like we are,’ was the unspoken response in Chakotay’s gentle smile.

*****

B’Elanna tossed her equipment case into the shuttle. In her currently foul mood she put a little too much muscle behind it and the case careened off the bulkhead and thudded to the floor.

From the pilot’s seat Tom glanced back in surprise. He raised his eyebrows slightly.

"And good afternoon to you, too. I’m fine. How’re you?" he drawled out

B’Elanna simply glared at him as she fell into the seat beside him and powered up her console. Of all the pilots on the two ships, she just had to be assigned Paris for this mission.

She’d been doing so well in avoiding him the last few days. The last few days after that...that...that night.

Her uncertainty at her level of comfort in being in the same room with Paris, never mind a small shuttle, combined with the overwhelmingly awful day she was having, did not do a lot to even her temper.

"Well are we ready to go?" Paris asked, seeing that his companion was not going to be much of a conversationalist for the journey. "Or would you like to bite my head off first?"

"Just make sure you get us there in one piece," B’Elanna growled. "I don’t want to experience anything like we did the last time we were on an away mission together."

"We’re in agreement there," Tom said, remembering how he and B’Elanna had visited two parallel universes when their shuttle had been caught in an anomaly.

He wisely bit his tongue and refrained from making a smart comeback in response to her caustic inference about his piloting. Instead, he made a smooth departure from Voyager and settled into piloting the shuttle to the planet below. He did not attempt to engage in any further conversation with B’Elanna, sensing that she would be happier with the silence.

B’Elanna turned her chair so that her back was to him. Unfortunately, that just meant she had a perfect view of his reflection in the side viewscreen. He was concentrating on flying the shuttle, but she could see that his brow was oddly furrowed, as though he was bothered by something. Tom Paris didn’t usually wear his emotions on his face, but then again, he probably didn’t realize that she was sitting analyzing his profile.

Which she had no business doing anyway! Grumbling to herself, she spun her chair around a quarter turn, but that just served to provide her with an unobstructed view of her companion. She whirled the chair to face forward again and shut her eyes, trying to will her conscience away to anywhere, save where she was.

It was no use. Even though they were silent and she had blocked out any visual communication, she still felt as though they were talking, as though her body was talking to his, and vice-versa. She could feel his closeness, sense his proximity to her. She heard his fingers tapping on his console and the thought that surged unbidden into her mind was of the subtle strength in his hands and what he could do with them. What he could do to her with them.

Gods! What was happening to her?

She wanted the hell out of the shuttle, the hell out of his presence. She wanted to rail at him and divest herself of the anger that burned within her. She wanted to weep and then she wanted to take a smack at something, hard.

She wanted him. Gods help her, she wanted him.

She wanted him ... again.

It had been the night of Potlatch, a night when a warmth and a harmony amongst all present at the gathering had suffused the evening. A night when the sultry air of the planet combined with the firelight and the starry sky had created a somewhat surreal atmosphere. It hadn’t been difficult to forget, for a time, about the realities of life on board the ships they would return to that night...

B’Elanna brought her offerings of food to Tom and Harry and sat with them through the night. She was touched by Chakotay’s impassioned speech, for she had come to the realization as well that without Voyager, Fides could not survive, that without Fides, Voyager was lacking.

She enjoyed the evening with its soft music, food, laughter, wine and camaraderie. She had not felt so relaxed for so long; it seemed the night was helping her to leave her recent grief behind and look brightly toward a new day.

As the night wore on, those gathered began drifting back to their respective ships. Harry rose to leave, but Tom made no move to follow him, so B’Elanna instinctively moved over to close the gap between her and her remaining companion.

It began innocently enough. Drowsy, and feeling a unity and friendship with all, including the man beside her, she leaned against him while listening to the litany of ballads which washed along the currents of the fresh air and then rose into the night with the smoke from the fires. She was actually close to sleep when Tom nudged her.

"Hey," he said quietly. "I think we should probably get going."

She looked up at him, sleepy-eyed, with no real urge to move from where she sat. She could have stayed there all night. She’d been so at ease that she hadn’t even noticed that she and Tom were among only a tiny handful of people still left at the fires.

Tom gestured toward the central fire where Chakotay and Janeway still sat.

"They might be waiting for the last of us to leave before they go themselves."

As he whispered in her ear she felt his warm breath on her neck, and her lazy mind was surprised at the contrast between that heat and the gooseflesh that rose on her arms as his mouth dipped so close. She rubbed her arms unconsciously.

He stood and offered her a hand.

"Come on. I’ll walk you to your ship."

Fides had landed about a ten minute walk away from where the night’s festivities had been held. Though it was fully dark, the moon provided ample illumination for the two to see their way across the meadow and past the corpse of trees that Fides had touched down beside.

As they walked in silence, Tom snuck his arm around B’Elanna, resting his hand gingerly on her shoulder. B’Elanna hid a small smile in the darkness. She could tell that Tom was a bit apprehensive about what her reaction would be to his overture of familiarity.

For her part, B’Elanna was a bit surprised herself that she didn’t balk at this slight intimacy. But then, she wasn’t the same person she had been when they had first arrived in the Delta Quadrant; Tom wasn’t the same person either. Maybe at some point he had been the traitor that had caused Chakotay and the others to display such enmity towards him, though even with Chakotay B’Elanna sensed that the dislike was more of a pretense now that served to hide the respect her captain had found for Tom.

B’Elanna hadn’t known Tom Paris the betrayer. Deep inside, she questioned whether he had even existed. Oh, at first she’d taken Chakotay’s opinion of him as fact. While Tom hadn’t served with Chakotay’s cell, he had known her captain when he’d first hooked up with the Maquis. It was Chakotay, in fact, who had introduced Tom to Rosh Oran. With Chakotay’s recommendation, Rosh had made Tom a member of his team. Then Rosh, and most of the others, had found themselves behind the force field of a Federation lock-up, awaiting trail. A few members of cell had eluded capture, and had been absorbed into Chakotay’s unit, telling the tale of how the arrests by Starfleet had come just after Tom Paris had joined up. Tom Paris, son of Admiral Paris, they had discovered. He could only be one thing, a traitor.

B’Elanna hadn’t been there, but if Chakotay believed it, then the words were as gospel to her. She hadn’t taken the time to evaluate Tom Paris for herself. That is, until she had found herself suddenly flung into another universe, with him as her only link to the world they belonged in.

Of all the surprises that they had encountered while being aboard that other Voyager, B’Elanna was hard pressed to choose which had been more of a shock: the fact that her doppelganger served as chief engineer for the starship, or that Lieutenant Torres had a very different relationship with her Tom Paris.

The latter, however, was not really what had made her sit up and take notice of her own Tom. She knew, of course, that just because the people in the parallel universe looked the same, they were not necessarily the same people that she knew. No, what had been the turning point in how she viewed Tom was when that Captain Janeway had invited them to stay, to travel with them and not attempt a return to their own space.

It must have been an enticing invitation for Tom. On that Voyager he was a hero, he was respected by his colleagues and superiors, he had many friends, and he was loved - by her double no less. However, when the proposal was made the first thing that Tom had done was look to her to gauge her reaction.

She hadn’t wanted to stay there and he had immediately read it in her expression, and just as quickly advised Captain Janeway that they wouldn’t be accepting her generous offer. Regardless of what his own wishes had been, he had chosen based on her desires. Of that she was certain.

The Tom Paris she knew was loyal and dependable and courageous. Even before he had admitted to her earlier that day that he had missed her while Fides and Voyager had been apart, she had been thinking about how much she was coming to appreciate his presence in her life. Thinking about how much she could come to enjoy his presence close to her. Maybe even closer than they were at the moment.

It had been a night for honesty and declarations, maybe there was room left under the moonlight for one more truth.

B’Elanna stopped walking suddenly and Tom came to a halt beside her. He gazed at her inquiringly.

"You said you missed me," she stated, with no preamble. "Why? What made you say that?"

Tom looked slightly taken aback, but to his credit he recovered quickly.

"What do you think it meant? I missed you," he said frankly. "I’ve gotten used to having you around."

His voice dropped to a softer timbre. "I’ve gotten to like having you around."

"Maybe I’ve grown to like having you around too," she replied, matching his gentle tone.

She was shocking herself with her forthrightness. Maybe the wine that had loosened her tongue and assuaged her fears, though she was still in full command of her faculties, as was Tom. Maybe it was the moonlight. Maybe it was the moment. Whatever it was, when Tom raised his hand to gently cup his palm against her cheek, she responded by throwing both her arms around him, grasping his head and dragging his mouth down to meet hers.

From that moment on, it was difficult to name the instigator of their engagement. As soon as B’Elanna pressed her body against Tom’s, she just as quickly found herself pinned between his form and the tree that was behind her. Any pretense of gentle advances had been lost in the surge of passion that enveloped them.

It was quick, it was exhilarating, it was intense. They met as more than comrades, more than friends. They were half divested of clothes, against a tree, in a meadow under the moonlight. They had become something more.

It was bliss.

They had simply taken what they wanted, what they needed from each other. But, for all that their joining had been a hurried and torrid encounter, Tom had been very sweet afterwards.

Once their breathing had stilled and their hearts had ceased their frenetic race, Tom had kissed her softly and nuzzled his cheek against hers.

"I’m so glad I didn’t lose you," he whispered, "that I’ve found you now, instead."

B’Elanna bit her lower lip, ran her fingers lightly through his tousled hair as he leaned over her.

"I’m glad Voyager came after us," she said, looking up to meet his gaze, finding an honesty and a forthrightness in his eyes. "I guess I kind of missed you too."

"Yeah?" Tom’s face broke into a grin. "So was it my charming wit you missed, or my dashing good looks?"

"Oh please!" B’Elanna’s voice held a note of mock disdain. "I missed being able to wipe the court with you at hoverball."

"I see..." Tom countered. "So you wanted us to come after you so you could get sweaty with me."

His hands, which had been resting easily on her hips, starting roaming as he spoke. But even though his movements were creating a very pleasant sensation, B’Elanna gently shoved him away. The hour had grown quite late.

"You’re such a Qatlh," she said fondly.

He held her hand as he walked her the rest of the way to her ship, halting just inside the stand of trees that Fides was adjacent to. He kissed her softly and held her close for a moment before she left his embrace to cross the last few feet to her ship.

B’Elanna made it back to her quarters without running into any of her crewmates. She was thankful for that when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, as she was certain the silly little smile that she couldn’t quite manage to wipe off her lips spoke volumes. She was doubly thankful that circumstances had resulted in her not currently sharing her accommodations when she noted the heightened colour in her cheeks, which matched her swollen-looking mouth. Some leaves and other foliage were scattered through her hair, and when she removed the tunic she had been wearing, she noticed that it had been torn in several places. Twisting around before the mirror, she could see that she’d received some scratches from the tree along the length of her back, though there was no blood.

‘Maybe next time,’ she thought devilishly.

*****

Voyager and Fides resumed their course the next day and B’Elanna found herself humming as she completed some minor repair work in the engine room of her ship. While she was trying to maintain a nonchalant attitude toward what had transpired between her and Tom, by the afternoon she had concocted a reason for needing to be on Voyager, and had beamed over at the next opportunity.

She knew Tom was on duty and she didn’t expect to see him. She certainly wasn’t going to seek him out. But for some absurd reason, she felt the desire to be in the same place as him, or at least aboard the same ship. And if they both happened to end up in the mess hall after their shifts, well, would that be so unusual?

B’Elanna preoccupied herself with some preventative maintenance on the holodeck grids. Around the time of shift change, she felt decidedly hungry, and headed for the mess hall. As she rounded the corridor, she caught a glimpse of Harry entering the room just ahead of her. She quickly ducked back around the corner. If she entered the mess hall at the same time as Harry, he would inevitably invite her to sit with him while they ate. She didn’t really have any valid reason to refuse him. But if she waited a few minutes, he would probably find someone else to sit with, then she could quietly enter and secure a table to herself. That way, if Tom should happen to come in...

Speaking of the devil, B’Elanna suddenly heard Tom’s voice coming from around the other corner of the corridor. Smiling, she peeked her head around the corner, but then abruptly turned back and flattened herself against the wall.

She’d just lost her appetite.

Around the corner, Tom stood in another woman’s embrace.

Though they were out of her sight, B’Elanna could hear them speaking.

"Thank you," the woman was saying.

She was a dark-haired ensign, one of the junior pilots under Tom’s command. B’Elanna couldn’t quite place her name.

"That night you came to me in the hydroponics bay," the woman continued. "It meant a lot."

B’Elanna felt as though someone had just driven pain sticks into both her stomachs. She crossed her arms over her belly protectively, as though they could help to ease the sudden ache.

‘Fool!’ she cursed herself silently. Thinking that Tom Paris actually cared about her, when here she’d just been another of his conquests.

The continuing conversation between Tom and the ensign hadn’t been registering with B’Elanna, shocked as she was by her discovery of Tom’s other liaison. But now she distinctly heard the woman asking Tom if she could see him that night, before her shift started.

"I feel a bit out of touch," the woman was saying. "It would be great if we could get together to go over a few things before I go back to work tonight."

B’Elanna frowned. That didn’t sound precisely like a conversation between lovers. It sounded a bit more like a discussion between colleagues. Maybe she was mistaken about what she was overhearing; maybe Tom’s involvement with this woman was completely innocent. If she hadn’t seen them in each other’s arms...

Maybe she should have a little more faith in Tom.

No! That had been a definite embrace. Co-workers did not hold each other like that. She could put her faith in Tom and she could end up the object of his amusement.

Not in this lifetime!

B’Elanna had returned to Fides.

*****

Fortunately, things had been operating smoothly aboard Voyager for the past few days, so her presence had not been required on the Starfleet vessel. Until today.

Today ... her own personal day of hell.

Some would say ‘hell hath no fury like a Klingon scorned,’ in which case Tom was not in a good position, being alone on an away mission as he was with her.

However, she was doing more hurting than wanting to lash out.

Why was the universe so unkind as to make her have to be here with him when it was the last place she wanted to be?

She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, but she could still not block out the sense of him, her awareness of his presence. Damn it, she could smell him, for gods sakes. He smelled fresh, clean, like soap and rainwater. He tasted like...

Damn it!

Tom glanced sharply over at B’Elanna as he heard a small cry escape from her lips. She looked so deep in thought that he doubted she had even realized she had made the sound.

She was sitting with her legs drawn toward her chest and her heels resting on the console before her. Her hands were clasped to her knees, though she did not seem cognizant of the fact that she was clenching and unclenching her fingers. Her head was thrown back against her chair and her eyes were drawn firmly closed. It was as if she didn’t even know that he was there.

It frustrated him that she was blowing hot and cold. The night of the Potlatch ... well ... she’d definitely been several degrees above warm. But now, she was decidedly frosty.

When she’d brought her offerings of food to him and Harry at the Potlatch, he’d been pleased by the thought of being able to spend a few hours in her company. He’d never for a moment imagined what would take place later that night.

The morning after he’d woken to a feeling of euphoria. He’d long been intrigued by B’Elanna Torres. He’d found her engaging and alluring. To think that this exotic and amazing woman had similar feelings toward him! Yes, Tom had been in a fine mood the next day.

He had expected to see her on board Voyager, as he had no reason to go to Fides. He had spent an overly long time in the mess hall following his shift, and had then spent several more long hours in Sandrine’s, the holodeck program he had originally designed but which had become a popular place for the crew of both ships to congregate during their off hours.

But she hadn’t shown up.

They hadn’t made any definite plans to meet, but he had thought....

Over the next couple of days he had taken to checking in on her whereabouts.

"Computer, location of B’Elanna Torres?"

"B’Elanna Torres is not on board Voyager."

After his innumerable queries to the computer seemed to indicate that she was not coming to his ship, he’d reached the conclusion that she was avoiding him.

He racked his brains to try and determine a logical explanation for her reaction, to try and figure out what he had done wrong.

He was positive that it had been what she had wanted as well. He didn’t think that she’d been influenced by the wine in any way; maybe she had just been caught up by the heat of the moment?

But no. B’Elanna had never struck him as a person who would allow her control to slip to that extent. Perhaps she had only been looking for a one time encounter.

Somehow, he didn’t think so. That didn’t fit her persona.

Tom felt he knew B’Elanna well enough now to form such an opinion. Over the past few months she appeared to have come to accept his preludes to friendship, even if somewhat grudgingly. Prior to that she had suffered his presence only when ordered to do so. However, Tom had always been a keen observationalist and he’d been watching B’Elanna since the beginning.

Her reputation had preceded her introduction to most of Voyager’s crew after she’d broken Joe Carey’s nose that first day she’d come aboard the ship. When Chakotay had first brought her to a staff meeting, Tom had been expecting a big, buxom, Klingon warrior woman. He’d been completely surprised to discover B’Elanna Torres as the slight and slender woman she was. That first day she’d sat in the conference room her body had been pressed tightly into her chair, as if she had wanted to disappear into its confines, and her arms had been crossed defiantly over her chest. Her face had been painted with a scowl as her gaze had moved coolly about the room.

To others, she had probably looked openly aggressive, but Tom knew defensive posturing when he saw it.

He practiced it.

While she appeared as though she had wanted to contribute to the conversation several times, she hadn’t provided any opinions until asked to do so directly by Chakotay. When she did open her mouth, it was clear that Chakotay had been justified in his decision to bring her to the meeting. While B’Elanna had forged ahead espousing her theories pertaining to the matter at hand, she had left Tom and most of the others far behind. Even Carey looked as though he was having trouble following her rapid-fire explanations and remedies, though he did take the opportunity to make a couple of sharp remarks.

Maybe he had deserved that broken nose.

B’Elanna, to her credit, hadn’t let the cutting comments slow her down, nor had she let them cast doubt on her ideas. Her slight flinch and a barely discernible slump to her posture as she paused to gather her thoughts had likely not been noticed by anyone else present, but it had not escaped Tom’s scrutiny.

Nor had anything else to do with her since.

If he hadn’t already been enamoured of her, then he might have found reason to cast his eye in her direction after his encounter with her double, Lieutenant Torres, in the parallel universe they had visited. That soul-searing kiss he had received from her, well, it had certainly provided him with further fodder for his already active imagination.

But all that he had imagined, wondered about and wished for had been nothing like the real thing. Holding her, having her, with her full and complete reciprocation had been an experience far more electrifying. For so many years Tom had felt as though he had been searching for components of his character, his self, that seemed to be lacking. In those moments that he and B’Elanna had come together, joined in body and committed in mind to a single purpose, he believed he had found a part he was missing.

Now, with her silence and distance, he felt it had tumbled from his grasp once again.

"I never would have let it happen if I had known you were going to regret it."

He didn’t really know if he had meant to say the words aloud, but once they were issued forth he could do little but turn a contrite gaze in her direction.

She stared back at him, mouth slightly agape, appearing somewhat perplexed by his comment.

Then she turned the tables and dumbfounded him by declaring,

"I don’t regret it. Not that it’s any of your concern."

With that she alighted from her seat and stomped to the rear of the shuttle to fiddle with the repair equipment she had brought with them.

"Whoa!" Tom quickly keyed in the autopilot sequence and then moved from his seat toward B’Elanna.

"If you have no regrets about what happened, then what’s with this cold front?!"

The harshness of his tone that he had tried unsuccessfully to keep in check revealed his frustration with her. In defense, her chin jutted out and she rewarded him with a glacial look.

"Oh, I’m so sorry I’m not falling at your feet in adoration," she said sarcastically. She gave a short bark of laughter. "Hey, we both got what we wanted that night. There’s nothing more to it than that." Her eyes held a defiant look.

Tom shook his head slowly. "No," he said adamantly. "I don’t believe you. I don’t believe you think that at all."

He advanced a step toward her and placed one hand on the bulkhead above her shoulder. He pressed his other hand to the bulkhead just beside her hip, effectively pinning her to the wall. He wasn’t concerned about appearing threatening to her, as he knew full well that with a quick shove she could send him flying into the opposite bulkhead.

But she hadn’t done so yet, and Tom held out some hope.

"There’s something between us, B’Elanna," he declared quietly. He lowered his head so that his mouth hovered in front of her ear and his cheek just barely touched hers. "I feel it, and I know you do too."

He whispered in her ear in low, murmured tones. "Right now you can feel those tiny hairs at the nape of your neck standing on end."

He moved one hand to rest it on her hip and lowered the other to place his palm just above one breast.

"You can feel your heart starting to race."

His hand left her chest and he held his fingers up before her parted lips.

"Your breath is coming quicker because you know there’s something here, something real."

His earnest gaze met her look of uncertainty before her lashes dropped and her mouth tilted up to meet his.

‘Warning. Shuttle has entered lower atmosphere. Please provide landing coordinates.’

B’Elanna pulled away from Tom, startled by the computer’s sudden intrusion. When he tried to gather her to him again she shoved, not harshly, but with enough strength so that he was forced to step back and thereby release her from his embrace. She darted to her seat in the cockpit area of the shuttle.

Tom swore under his breath and followed.

"Look, we need to talk..." he began. He fell into his seat but did not put a finger to the controls even when the computer repeated its warning.

"We need to do the job we were sent to do, nothing more!" B’Elanna said roughly, not meeting his eyes.

"Come on, B’Elanna. I’m tired of playing this game. There’s something here I’m not getting."

She whirled on him.

"Either SHUT UP and land the damn shuttle or I’ll do it for you!" she spit out, furious.

Tom wasn’t sure if she meant that she’d fly or she’d make him shut up.

He landed the shuttle.

*****

Janeway was in her ready room, halfheartedly thumbing through some very dry reports she had put off reading, when she was contacted by the mining colony. The ship’s regular routine had come to an abrupt halt while they waited for the return of the away team. Janeway had been wishing that Chakotay hadn’t beamed back over to Fides quite so soon after the meeting.

When she learned why her contact from the mining installation had hailed the ship, part of her was concerned, and part of her was incensed that Paris and Torres would allow such an incident to take place. Fortunately she was able to reach Chakotay right away via his commbadge, instead of having to wait for someone to track him down, which still seemed to be the more common mode of communications on board Fides.

"Commander, I think you’d better return to Voyager immediately. Our away team has been arrested."

*****

B’Elanna prowled the confines of the room they had been locked up in. For a prison it was pretty luxurious, its usual function obviously being as a reception room of some sort, rather than a cell.

Sitting at the large table which took up the majority of the space in the windowless chamber, Tom watched silently as B’Elanna continued to pace the circumference of the room. Given her ill humour which he had been subjected to for the better part of the day, he thought it best to let her cool her heels a bit, so to speak, before he tried to discuss the situation with her.

However, he found he could no longer sit idly by when she began punctuating her rotations about the room by smashing her fists against the wall at every few paces.

After he’d watched her pound the walls a couple of times he rose from his chair.

"Hey! Stop that!"

She cast him a passing glance before slamming her fists into the wall once again, letting lose a howl of frustration.

"B’Elanna!" He strode over to her position and grabbed her wrists. "You’re going to hurt yourself!"

She struggled to free her arms from his grip but he wasn’t letting go.

"So what if I hurt myself? It’s the Klingon part of me that makes me do this! It’s what got us into this mess in the first place!"

Her chest and shoulders were heaving as she was trying unsuccessfully to contain her frustration and anger. She glared at Tom, eyes somewhat wild, almost daring him to contradict her.

He had no qualms about doing so.

"This isn’t your fault!" he cried, annoyed that she could believe that. Then his tone softened.

"B’Elanna, that guy deserved what he got. Trust me, if you hadn’t beaten me to it I would have been the one to have decked him. He had no right to say things like that to you, or to insinuate..."

"Maybe you would have hit him, but you would have rationalized it first." B’Elanna had ceased her struggling against his hold and her breathing had begun to calm. When she again pulled her arms away from Tom he let her wrists drop.

"I don’t think so. I think you just got to him first. "

Tom dropped into an adjacent chair and briefly brought his hand to B’Elanna’s elbow to guide her into a seat but she ignored the offer and remained standing.

"No Tom, you don’t understand." She crossed both of her arms over her chest and grasped the opposite shoulders with her hands, bowed her head and began kicking at the floor with the toe of her boot. She couldn’t quite fathom why she was telling Tom Paris - of all people - about this, especially in view of her current feelings of hurt and betrayal toward him. Yet, she felt obligated to provide an explanation to him for her actions and their root cause.

"Sometimes I just completely lose control. It’s like someone opens a pressurized valve - everything just comes spewing out - and I can’t stop it. It’s gotten me in trouble before, plenty of times, and it’s something about myself that I don’t particularly like."

"I do. Like it, I mean."

B’Elanna raised her eyes sharply from their scrutiny of the carpet.

"You like it?" she said, aghast.

"Sure." Tom smiled affably. "You’re spirited. It’s ... exciting."

In the days since B’Elanna had discovered that Tom had no interest in committing himself solely to her, she had managed to turn her upset into anger, an emotion that she found much easier to deal with and to comprehend than the ache his actions had caused. But at what she perceived to be his voicing a blatant sexual overture during her honest admission, her guts began to twist around once again.

"And that’s all you really care about, isn’t it?!" she said bitterly. "Get one thing straight right now, Paris. I have no intention of becoming another of the poor females you’re stringing along." Her voice was dangerously low, simmering with enmity.

"Another of the females I’m stringing along?" Tom echoed in honest confusion.

B’Elanna gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Don’t bother playing the innocent with me. I saw you with that ensign, with her in your arms, making plans to be with her less than twenty-four hours after we were together!"

Tom’s brow was deeply furrowed. "Ensign?" he said slowly, shaking his head as if trying to jar his memory of that day after.

"Pale skin, long black hair, a frail looking thing, really," B’Elanna prompted, rolling her eyes.

The pieces fell into place with B’Elanna’s description of the woman.

"Suzie?" Tom said incredulously. "You saw me with Suzie?"

To her ears, Tom sounded perturbed that she had discovered his duplicity and therefore spoiled his fun. This hurt her more than she wanted to admit to. She reached down deeply to draw forth her anger which was a much easier emotion to do battle with.

"Yes, I did," she snapped. "I saw you with your little ensign."

"You’ve got this all wrong," Tom began, attempting to reason with her.

"I wonder if your Suzie thinks she’s the only one?"

"B’Elanna..."

"I wonder if she’d be interested in knowing that she’s just another conquest?"

"B’Elanna, listen to me..."

"I wonder if she’d still fall so willingly into your arms, and no doubt into your bed!"

"B’Elanna!"

"I wonder if -"

"SUZIE WAS IN LOVE WITH KURT BENDERA!"

B’Elanna’s mouth fell open and her eyes widened.

"Whaaa ... Kurt?" was all she could manage before she was reduced to shaking her head mutely.

Tom nodded and gave her a sympathetic look.

"They kept it a secret from everyone, as far as I know. After he died I ended up finding out about it and, well, she was devastated. She needed someone to talk to and I tried to offer her some comfort by listening."

B’Elanna uttered a small cry before her hands flew to cover her mouth.

Tom continued, "When you saw us on Voyager the day after you and I were together, Suzie was just thanking me for being there for her. I think she might have hugged me, but that was all that happened."

"Gods," B’Elanna groaned. Then she dropped her hands from her face to clench them tightly at her sides. Her eyes squeezed shut.

"Do you get it now, Tom?!" she cried abruptly, eyes flying wide open to bore into him. "Now you can see what I mean when I say that the Klingon part of me always leads me into trouble!"

"It was an honest mistake," Tom said, attempting to soothe her.

"No! I jumped to conclusions. You know, I’m still right to think that there shouldn’t be anything between us, because it wouldn’t be fair to constantly subject you or anyone else to my irrational aggressions!"

"I disagree!" Tom’s voice was firm. "You might be aggressive, sure, but it’s that aggression that also makes you so fiercely loyal. It’s a part of you, just like your courage is a part of you."

He spoke in a softer tone. "Your aggression gives you your feistiness. And yes, I do find that appealing. Just as a find your brilliant mind appealing. Just as I’m attracted by your beauty. Then there’s also your quick wit which can make me laugh, and your uncertainties, which make me want to protect you and not let anything get close enough to hurt you."

"What I’m saying, B’Elanna..." Tom paused to audibly draw a deep breath. "...what I’m saying is that it’s all of these parts of you, all of these different personality aspects rolled into one, that I just can’t seem to stop myself from falling in love with!"

For a moment, neither of them moved. Neither breathed.

Then B’Elanna flew at him, practically before he had a chance to see her coming. The force of her momentum caused her, Tom, and the chair in which he had been sitting to topple over backwards into a heap on the floor.

"Ow!" Tom moaned as he hit the carpet. But he said it through a smile.

"Get used to it," B’Elanna cautioned, smiling wickedly, eyes alive with her joy at Tom’s acceptance of her, flaws and all. "You do know what you’re getting yourself in for with a Klingon, don’t you?"

"I think I’m up to the challenge," Tom countered. He disentangled his legs from the overturned chair and in one smooth motion had flipped her body beneath his.

Then he shut her up with his kiss.

*****

"...so it would appear that it is we who owe your people an apology," the mining colony’s chief of operations told Janeway, "as Molar undoubtedly provoked your engineer to attack."

"While it’s not our way to condone violence as a means of resolving issues, I do appreciate your understanding in this matter," Janeway replied graciously.

"Think nothing of it. Now, shall we collect your people so you can be on your way? We’ve already loaded your tellurium into one of your shuttles. Your engineer did do a brilliant job with our repairs, I might add."

"There’s no arguing that B’Elanna is very talented," Janeway said.

She was still a bit annoyed with the engineer for the conduct she had displayed, and by extension with Tom for not preventing it, regardless of whether or not this Molar person had goaded them on. However, considering the odd reaction B’Elanna had displayed when she had discovered she was being accompanied on the away mission by Tom, the two may have received punishment enough for their actions by just being locked up in the same room together. Janeway hoped they hadn’t been at each other’s throats too much.

‘I might want to rephrase that thought,’ was what popped into an astonished Janeway’s mind a second later when the door to the room where Tom and B’Elanna were being confined swung open.

The two members of her away team were entwined in a heated embrace on the floor, Tom was at B’Elanna’s throat - with his mouth - and...

"Ahem," Janeway said.

Tom’s head snapped up and B’Elanna’s eyes slanted over to see who was intruding on their interlude. For a second they both froze. Janeway was admittedly hard-pressed to contain a snort of laughter at the looks of utter embarrassment that crossed the faces of both the young...well, young lovers apparently.

B’Elanna gasped, and a very obvious blush began to spread across Tom’s cheeks as they disentangled themselves from each other.

"Captain Janeway!" B’Elanna said, recovering her power of speech first. "I can explain what happened ... uh ... that is ... the altercation. With Molar! You’ll want to hear why we ... no ... why I ... uh ..."

Tom cut in when B’Elanna floundered. "Captain, let me explain what happened with Molar."

Janeway held up a hand. "At ease Lieutenant, Ms. Torres. I’m here to spring you. Molar accepted full responsibility for provoking you to hit him, B’Elanna."

"Oh," B’Elanna said, still flustered and a bit at a loss for words.

"And now I need you to get back to Voyager. We need to get the tellurium to the ship and there’s still the repairs to the plasma injectors to be completed."

"Aye Captain."

"Lieutenant Hamilton has a shuttle outside that can take you back. I’ll return in the other shuttle with Mr. Paris."

"Yes Captain." B’Elanna gave Janeway a quick nod of assent then beat a hasty retreat from the room. She couldn’t trust herself to spare a glance at Tom for fear of losing her composure.

Tom remained quiet as Janeway expressed her appreciation to the operations chief and then followed obediently in the Captain’s wake as she made her way to the shuttle. While he was not as abashed as B’Elanna had been at Janeway discovering them in the midst of their intimacies, he was a bit chagrined to have been caught engaging in rather unprofessional behaviour.

He knew too, that it was not conduct that would be ignored by Janeway. She had probably sent B’Elanna back to Voyager with Hamilton just so she could get right to her admonishment of Tom’s behaviour. She waited only until the shuttle had cleared the lower atmosphere.

"We’re a long way from the strictures of Starfleet, Mr. Paris," she began. Tom kept his eyes focused on the viewscreen as he awaiting the verbal lashing for which she was undoubtedly warming up. "While the Maquis aren’t Starfleet personnel, for the cohesion of our alliance to continue, they must be treated as fellow officers. In view of the very unusual situation we are all in, I could not presume to establish any regulations concerning fraternization between any of our personnel - Starfleet or Maquis. However, I do expect everyone to adhere to Starfleet’s code of conduct during duty hours and I will not stand for any sort of personal liaisons interfering with anyone’s responsibilities. Is that clear?"

Tom was stunned. Here he had expected to be severely disciplined for his actions and to be told that relationships between crewmembers were not appropriate, but instead, Janeway was practically condoning the relationship.

"Aye Captain!" he answered heartily, finally turning his gaze to look at her.

Her eyes held a warmth that had been hidden by her stern tone of voice. Her mouth was turned up in a slight smile.

"I think you’ll be good for each other, Tom."

He couldn’t help but grin. "Aye Captain, so do I."

*****

Janeway relieved Chakotay, who had been standing duty on Voyager’s bridge, only to hand command over to Tuvok. The Maquis captain she invited into her ready room. She had already alerted him from the planet about Paris and Torres being released and returning to Voyager, now she wanted to provide him with a more detailed briefing.

"So I take it your unsurpassed gift for diplomacy gained their release?" Chakotay asked with a smile.

She couldn’t help but return his grin. "Actually, I didn’t even get the chance to put my politic skills to the test. It turned out our people were not at fault."

"Really?" Chakotay arched an eyebrow at her as he leaned back against her desk.

Janeway nodded. "Apparently the man B’Elanna hit provoked her into doing so by making some rather disparaging comments about her."

Chakotay’s face darkened slightly as his mouth turned down into a scowl.

"Regardless, B’Elanna could still use some lessons from you with that diplomacy we mentioned. There’s a time and a place for acting like a Maquis in a bar brawl and then there’s a time for doing things the Starfleet way."

Both pleasure and surprise were apparent on Janeway’s face as her eyes grew as wide as her smile.

"Don’t be too hard on her, Chakotay," she entreated, laying a hand on his arm. "Tom said it really wasn’t her fault."

Chakotay snorted. "Probably because it was more likely his fault."

Janeway sighed. "Surely you must be tired of that by now."

"Tired of what?"

"Tired of hating Tom. Tired of holding on to that old grudge. Whatever Tom was before, surely even you can see what a responsible and dedicated officer, and person, he is now."

Chakotay held up his hand, as if to forestall any further praise of Paris that might be forthcoming.

"Okay," he grumbled. "I’ll give you that your faith in him hasn’t been misplaced."

As if he wanted to move the topic of conversation away from his views on Tom Paris, and therefore avoid having to tackle that subject introspectively, Chakotay prefaced his next words with a Machiavellian grin.

"Given B’Elanna’s attitude when she found out he would accompany her on the away mission, I’ll bet he had a bit of an interesting time with her when they were locked up together." He knew his engineer’s temper would have simmered for some time following her altercation with the miner.

"I’m sure they both found it interesting." A hint of a smile, just as sly as Chakotay’s, graced Janeway’s face.

Chakotay looked at her, well able to read her expressions by now.

"What aren’t you telling me?" he asked, undeniably curious.

Janeway shook her head. "Nothing."

"Come on. I can see it on your face. Something else happened on that mining colony."

Janeway attempted to stare Chakotay down with a neutral expression, but she couldn’t quite keep the corners of her mouth from tipping upwards. Finally she shrugged.

"Let’s just say that Tom and B’Elanna may have found they can do more than argue passionately."

She watched confusion turn to clarity on Chakotay’s face.

"You mean they ... they’re ... ?" He gave up trying to verbalize his suspicions and instead looked at her pointedly for confirmation.

"The captain doesn’t gossip. That’s all I’m going to say."

Chakotay let out a rush of breath. "Well," he said slowly, fairly certain the impression he had gleaned from Janeway’s cryptic comment was correct, "we did want the two crews to intertwine."

He looked so reluctantly resigned to the idea that Janeway could not help but laugh at his forlorn expression and at the unintentional double entendre in his words.

"Maybe they’ve got the right idea on how to go about doing it."

Her laugh became even more gleeful as she watched his jaw drop.

*****

B’Elanna breathed a sigh of relief when she entered the holodeck and spotted Harry sitting with Tom. She wasn’t quite ready for her newfound relationship with Tom to be the hot topic of conversation around the two ships. If she arrived at the holodeck with Tom, or sat alone with him, there would undoubtedly be some raised eyebrows.

Tom had told her that he’d get Harry to join him in Sandrine’s that night. B’Elanna was somewhat amused at the idea of Harry being their unwitting chaperone. But if that was the way things had to be, and that was all she was prepared to let things be at the moment, B’Elanna would live with the situation. She wanted to spend some time with Tom, even if it was only for a few hours and also in the company of a couple dozen other people. She was a bit overwhelmed by just how much she wanted to spend time with Tom. It still frightened her a little, but she couldn’t deny the thrill she felt as well.

"Hi B’Elanna." Harry smiled when she approached the table. "Have a seat."

Naturally, he pulled out the chair on the opposite side of him from where Tom sat.

"Thanks Harry," she smiled back at him. With Tom she exchanged a quick look of mutual resignation.

Tom took a drink from the glass that sat before him, then made a face.

"Ugh! There’s something wrong with this drink. It doesn’t taste right!"

Harry gave him a strange look. "You didn’t notice this until you had already drank three quarters of it?"

Tom shrugged. "I’m going to have to go get something else."

"Can I get you anything?" he asked B’Elanna.

"Whatever you’re going to have is fine."

Returning from the bar quickly, Tom sat back down, this time beside B’Elanna. His knee slid up against hers.

"Much better," he said, taking a sip of his drink.

B’Elanna bit back a smile.

Then his hand slid onto her knee as he leaned over her to speak with Harry. The table hid this small touch from everyone’s view.

B’Elanna was watching the door when she saw a slightly familiar face enter the room. As Harry was now distracted by a crewmember who had paused at their table to chat with him, B’Elanna leaned closer to Tom to whisper to him.

"Isn’t that your friend?" she said, nodding toward the woman.

Tom’s eyes followed her direction.

"Suzie? Yeah, that’s her."

"She looks a little lost. Why don’t you invite her to join us?"

Tom regarded B’Elanna for a moment and she smiled to encourage him.

"She’s probably still lonely, Tom."

"We’re not really that close," Tom muttered, but he raised a hand to wave it in the air.

"Suzie! Hey, over here!"

The dark-haired ensign turned and smiled faintly in their direction. Tom gestured her closer.

"Join us," he invited when she reached the table.

"Oh." Suzie glanced from Tom to B’Elanna and Harry. "Uh, okay," she said and grasped the back of an available chair to pull it away from the table. But before she could sit she found herself the recipient of a joyful embrace.

"Suz!" An obviously delighted Megan Delaney had a face wreathed with a smile as she hugged her friend. "You came!"

"Yeah," Suzie acknowledged. "I thought it might be good to get out."

"Well, you know what else you promised me."

"Oh no, Meg, not tonight. Please."

Megan’s grin grew larger. "Come on. You know you want to. And we all want you to."

Suzie sighed. "You’re not going to let me out of this, are you?"

"Not a chance!"

Casting the trio at the table an apologetic glance Suzie said, "I’ll have to come back and join you in a bit." With that she allowed Megan to drag her to the bar at the front of the room and ensconce her on a stool.

"What was that all about?" B’Elanna looked inquiringly at Tom, who seemed as perplexed as she.

However, Harry solved the mystery for them by saying, "Oh good! She’s going to sing."

"Suzie sings?" Tom asked.

"Oh yeah!" Harry was enthused. "Her mother is Mari Lavoie. We studied her work at Julliard. She’s a renowned oral histories singer. Suzie was raised by her on the Cape Breton artisans colony. She’s great!"

Tom was about to comment on how the things you didn’t know about someone could surprise you when the sound of Suzie’s sweet vocals drifted over the room and all conversations ground to a halt. Her voice was soft and lilting, yet strong and intense as her song retold an ancient tale.

My love he built me a bonny bower,
And clad it all with lily flower;
A brawer bower ye ne’er did see,
Than that my true love built for me.

There came a man by middle day,
He spied his sport, and went away;
And brought the King that very night,
Who brak my bower, and slew my knight.

He slew my knight, to me sae dear,
He slew my knight, made forfeit his gear;
My servants all for life did flee,
And left me in extremitie.

So I took his body on my back,
And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sat;
I digg’d a grave and laid him in,
And happ’d him with the sod sae green.

But think na ye my heart was sair,
When I laid the mool on his yellow hair?
O think na ye my heart was woe,
When I turn’d about away to go?

Nae living man I’ll love again,
Since that my lovely knight is slain;
Wi’ ae lock of his yellow hair,
I’ll chain my heart for evermair.

The room was silent for a moment when Suzie had finished and then in contradiction to the hush that had befallen it, Sandrine’s was suddenly filled with riotous clapping and cheering. Suzie looked embarrassed, yet pleased all the same, and she nodded demurely to her audience before slipping off of the barstool and heading back to the table where B’Elanna, Tom and Harry sat.

Harry shook his head in awe when she reached them. "Wow. That was so great!"

"Thanks," Suzie smiled, taking a seat. She was approached by several people who also wanted to give her their compliments on her performance.

"Come on, Tom," Harry piped up. "Pool table’s free and I’ve been practicing."

"Uh..." Tom began, but B’Elanna elbowed him unobtrusively and mouthed the word ‘go’.

"Okay," Tom rose to join Harry.

B’Elanna sat quietly while Suzie chatted with a couple more crewmembers. When they had departed, Suzie turned and smiled shyly at B’Elanna, feeling a bit awkward as the women were virtual strangers to one another.

"He would have liked it, the song," B’Elanna blurted out, heedless of the fact that Suzie would have no idea how, or why, B’Elanna would know of whom the song was for.

"I hope so," Suzie said quietly, unfazed by B’Elanna’s statement.

"I’m so sorry," B’Elanna said with heartfelt emotion. "He was my friend. He was a good man."

Suzie’s violet eyes assessed B’Elanna with a measuring look.

"He’s a good man too," she said frankly, tilting her head toward where Tom was shooting pool with Harry.

"Yes, he is," B’Elanna agreed. Just as Suzie had not questioned how B’Elanna had known of her relationship with Kurt, neither did B’Elanna ask what Suzie meant by her reference to Tom.

"I have to tell you this," Suzie said, suddenly intense, grabbing B’Elanna’s hand to clench it between both of her own. "Please ... please don’t hide what you’ve found with each other. Please don’t waste precious time with sneaking around."

She closed her eyes momentarily and swallowed, then continued with a firm tone.

"Grab hold of the happiness you can to the fullest right now, because in a matter of a moment it could all be taken from you."

Just as suddenly as the fervor had flared within her, it flickered out, and Suzie let go of her hold on B’Elanna and drew her hands back to her lap.

"I’m sorry," she whispered, "but I just had to tell you."

"I understand," B’Elanna said, also quiet now, reflecting on the advice the other woman had given her.

A moment later Suzie’s attention was drawn to the front of the room. She smiled once more at B’Elanna.

"I think I’m being summoned. Would you mind terribly if I deserted you?" she asked.

"Oh no, go ahead." B’Elanna waved her away. "And ... what you said. Thanks."

Now sitting alone, B’Elanna had the opportunity to watch Tom unobtrusively as he enjoyed his game of pool. Seeing his delight in his companionship with Harry, watching him laugh in pleasure while engaging in some good fun, having him occasionally glance in her direction and flash that wonderfully charming grin of his just for her, all caused a feeling of warmth to burst forth from her heart and envelope her whole self.

She thought of what it would be like to never see that grin again, and she made a decision.

Tom had just sunk his final ball, much to the dismay of his competitor who had been only one ball behind, when B’Elanna appeared at his side. He was a bit surprised, but by no means displeased, when she grabbed his arm and held on to it.

"Why don’t we get out of here," she suggested.

"Okay..." Tom said slowly, a bit unsure of her intentions. She had wanted to keep their relationship a secret for the time being, after all. "Where do you want to go?"

"Your quarters," she replied bluntly, her words audible to Harry, standing nearby.

Tom’s eyes widened. "People are going to talk."

"Let them."

She reached up to twine her arms around Tom’s neck and pulled his head down for a quick kiss. When she released him he saw a new sparkle light her eyes.

B’Elanna noticed several people at nearby tables staring openly and nudging their companions. She let loose a peal of laughter before drawing Tom close once more. Yes, people would talk. But they’d get over it. She could deal with their opinions in the meantime. The freedom she felt right now, and the sudden joy that came with openly acknowledging her feelings for Tom were worth it.

Harry was gaping at them in amazement. B’Elanna echoed Tom as he bid the other man goodnight and then the two departed the holodeck, sharing a private fit of laughter.

Harry stared after them for a moment, then nodded sagely.

‘And here I thought they’d never figure it out.’

Go to the thirteenth EOME story Rumours and Remedies

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