Author:  Birca

Email: birca@hotmail.com

Rating:  [NC-17]  You better believe it!

Code:  P/T plus crew.

Summary: When the Kazon abandon Voyager's crew on Hanon IV B'Elanna finds it harder to resist certain basic truths than to live without life's basics. 

Disclaimer: When exploring an alien planet, always have a certified biologist test any water before drinking it. Also, never pretend that characters or starships created by Paramount Pictures are actually your own creation. (Birca certainly never would!) Do feel free, however, to make those characters—created by professional, union writers employed by the above named Paramount Pictures, whom you have properly credited in your disclaimer—have as much sex as possible in any stories you write.

Note: It's AU, as always, so I played with the facts. It’s what I do. It’s more fun that way.  Oh, and there’s sex in it. It’s much more fun that way!
 

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B’Elanna pulled her pants down around her ankles and squatted carefully, keeping a hand on the large boulder at her side. She spread her feet as far apart as her crumpled pants would allow and leaned forward slightly, trying to aim the stream of urine away from her boots. Millions of years of evolution, all that Starfleet training and technology, and here she was, peeing in the woods. Not even the woods—she was peeing in a rocky outcropping formed during the planet’s last glacial upheaval. 

She squinted at the mountain range rising in the distance. B’Elanna, Tom and Harry had explored its foothills earlier in the day. They hadn’t found much of interest besides an occasional sprig of greenery clinging to life in a sea of stone. Though, she had to admit, the abundance of rock was one of the planet’s few good points. It meant that they might be able to glean some useful ores hiding under all the loose shale and dirt that masqueraded as this planet’s topsoil. Not that they would have any way to process that ore should they be able to dig it out since they had only their hands to use as tools.

She growled softly and wiggled her bum to get the last of the urine to drip onto the ground. There weren’t any spare leaves around, and if the rough moss and lichen clinging to the rocks could absorb anything, she wasn’t about to try it to find out. ‘Roughing it’ was one thing—rough moss on her tender bottom was altogether another! 

With the help of the boulder, she pulled herself upright and immediately felt a cool trickle of urine make its way down her leg toward the inside of her knee. She grimaced and caught it with her left hand—she would have to remember to eat with her right—then bent to rub her hand in the dirt at her feet. It was just plain undignified, that’s what it was. Not for the first time, she wished she had a tiny penis so she could pee standing up. No fuss, no muss. Of course, she’d still have to remember which hand to eat with...

B’Elanna hauled her pants back up and fastened them, tucking her turtleneck shirt into her waistband. The few pieces of wood she’d found in her search for the perfect latrine spot lay on the ground, and she bent to pick them up just as a stiff wind swirled the dirt at her feet into a tiny funnel cloud. Sand blew into her face, and she squinted and dragged her forearm across her eyes. She beat down a howl of frustration. She was freezing, starving, and cranky, and wasn’t in the mood to add ‘gritty’ to the list. 

Striding quickly back to the campsite, she picked her way past her fellow crewmembers. They all looked cold, too. The scent of wood smoke reached her nose, and she hugged her sticks to her chest to ward off the chill. Flames popped and sputtered on the wet wood, but their rich, orange glow was cheerful and the warmth enticing. She lingered just for a moment, letting the heat of the fire caress her thighs and arms. It was funny how quickly civilized folk reverted to primitive comforts. The thought that a group of twenty-forth century space travelers could find so much reassurance from a small fire and a wall of stone at their backs seemed oddly incongruous. 

A whip of wind blew smoke into her face, and B’Elanna smothered a cough. She took a hasty step back and noticed Ensign Wildman sitting close to the flames. Her face was drawn with concern as she slowly rocked her infant daughter. The baby was wrapped in a blanket, but Wildman didn’t appear to have any of the other paraphernalia she usually brought along whenever Naomi made an appearance in Voyager’s common areas. It crossed B’Elanna’s mind to wonder what the ensign was using for diapers. 

Not her problem, thank god. And even if she hadn’t been getting regular birth control hypos from the doctor, she still wouldn’t be in Wildman’s position—generally you needed to have sex to get pregnant. Still, the fact that she didn’t have to worry about a menstrual cycle for another four months was a relief—a happy side effect of the birth control shot, and the main reason why she’d kept them up to date. God was a woman after all. She was a bitch at times, with a twisted sense of humor, but B’Elanna could understand that, and she cut her a little slack.

Janeway was talking quietly with Tuvok; B’Elanna nodded at them both as she added her scavenged wood to the pile. This was a captain’s worst nightmare come true: her crew stranded on an inhospitable chunk of space rock with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Seska, that traitorous bitch, had left them on the surface with nothing—no ration packs, no survival gear, not even blankets. Most humanoids needed three basics for survival: water, shelter, and food, in that order. Well, Klingons needed heat, too, or they got cranky. 

Too late; B’Elanna was already cranky and headed toward hostile. 

She paused and scanned the compound, surveying the people she’d served with for the last year and a half. She tried to imagine spending the rest of her life seeing only their faces. It wasn’t a pleasant thought. Of course, the captain wouldn’t let that happen. Chakotay wouldn’t let that happen. Surely they’d be back on Voyager soon. They’d better be. She couldn’t imagine trying to build a colony on this barren world. 

Besides, they should be concentrating their efforts on the next few days, not years. They had to find a way to survive in this wasteland long enough to get Voyager back. Freezing to death on the eve of their rescue was not an option. She glanced again at Wildman, and felt a ripple of unease. It would be tough enough for a trained Starfleet crew to survive out here with nothing, but the baby was still so tiny…

Quiet conversation rose and fell as she walked through the sprawling campsite. She heard the occasional burst of laughter as friends gathered in groups and tried to talk about anything but their situation. Someone mentioned Commander Zakarian, and B’Elanna grimaced at the memory of the Academy instructor and his Wilderness Survival course. An evil little smile twisted her lips. Come to think of it, she’d pay her weight in gold-pressed latinum to see how he would handle the situation on Hanon IV.

Truthfully, there wasn’t much to laugh about. Of course, some of the crew—the ones with penises—seemed to be enjoying this little camping trip. They got to act all macho hunter/gatherer and beat their chests. She growled softly. Maybe the captain should round up some hunting parties and send them off for fresh meat. It would give them something to do and improve the menu. They’d heard some shrieks earlier in the day, and spotted large birds flying in the distance. She and Harry had tracked them to a nesting site, and had raided it. She hoped the would-be parents didn’t come back for revenge. If revenge were a dish best served cold, at least her meal of baked egg and scrub-tree root—Neelix could find an edible root in someone’s family tree—had been pleasantly hot. 

With a sigh, B’Elanna tried not to think of how thirsty she was. What she wouldn’t give for a cold beer at Sandrine’s right now… or maybe a cup of hot raktajino. Best not to think about it, she decided with a groan.

The sun had begun to set an hour ago, and temperature had dropped considerably since then. B’Elanna stamped her feet and shivered in the cool breeze. They’d been ordered out of the caves by the captain—a judgment call, considering Hogan’s disappearance—and being in the open, she felt the chill of approaching evening. Well, she thought miserably, lucky Hogan. If that giant worm had eaten him as they’d speculated, at least he was warm in the belly of the beast. 

She snorted derisively. They’d lost so many people in the last year and a half that she was beginning to wonder if a quick death in the Delta Quadrant wasn’t the best plan. As a matter of fact, after Suder had killed Darwin she’d sat down and projected how long it would take for her department to run out of people. She had approximately five years and three months before engineering was a wasteland. She’d almost turned in her report to Chakotay, and asked him to okay the training of anyone with a level three engineering skill or higher, just so she could have some replacements in the wings before things went critical.

Her eyes searched the sky, and she let her thoughts drift to her old friend. Seven months ago, when Cullah had stolen that transport module from Voyager, Chakotay had managed to convince Captain Janeway that he was the only one who could get it back; that his honour demanded he finish his grudge-match with Seska once and for all. Knowing Chakotay as she did, B’Elanna was certain he’d used the same sort of moral/ethical debate on the captain yesterday as he’d used back then. With Cullah’s men invading of the ship, Janeway must have either been too desperate or too distracted to turn down Chakotay’s offer to take a shuttle out and find help. 

Of course, if Janeway had sent Tuvok to retrieve that module seven months ago instead of Chakotay, they wouldn’t be stuck on this piece of space slag now. B’Elanna really doubted that Seska would have impregnated herself with Tuvok’s DNA. 

“Damn it, Chakotay, be okay,” B’Elanna whispered. 

After a few more minutes of wandering around the camp, she spotted Tom and Harry further up the rock face in a natural crevice between two large rock formations. Tucking her icy fingers into her armpits, she slowly began to pick her way toward them. She was careful on the slippery stone—it wouldn’t do to twist an ankle when they didn’t even have a strip of cloth to use as a bandage.

Harry was squatting out of the wind, conserving body heat, but Tom was pacing, his agitation rolling off him in waves. 

“Go ahead, say it.” 

Harry’s tired sigh reached her as she rounded a clump of low-growing spiky shrub. 

“I know that waiting till daylight is the smartest decision, but… damn it! I just wish there was something for me to do!” Tom exploded. He ran an anxious hand through his hair, and scrubbed at his mouth with a fist. “I should have been the one to fly that shuttle, Harry. I’m the better pilot and the captain knows it.”

“Maybe that’s why she wouldn’t let you go,” Harry reasoned. “If we get Voyager back, we’ll need you on the bridge.

“And if we don’t, we won’t need me at all! What good is a pilot on a primitive planet? Seems to me Chakotay would be more use here than I am.”

B’Elanna paused and watched them, and a frown settled between her eyebrows at Harry’s next words.

“Yeah, you’re right. I guess it’s too bad the Kazon didn’t get a chance to blow your ass to atoms, but I’m sure once Cullah realizes the oversight, he’ll be back. You ought to be glad you’re here safe, Tom. The commander is probably already dead.”

B’Elanna slipped on a loose patch of shale, sending a few stones skittering down into the gorge. Both men glanced toward her.  Harry scrambled to his feet, regret clear on his face.

“B’Elanna! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay, Harry,” she cut him off. “You’re probably right. We can’t count on Chakotay making it to find help. We should accept the fact that he could be dead by now.”

She hugged herself more tightly as she walked toward them, trying to hold in her body heat along with her rising pessimism. Tom put a hand under her elbow as she hopped down into the little gorge where her friends were standing. She wondered if it had once been a natural streambed; the rock walls certainly looked like they had been sliced from the same huge stone. 

Tom’s hand lingered on her arm to steady her. She felt the heat from his fingers right through her jacket, and smothered an urge to lean into him and leech as much of his body’s warmth as she could. 

“I’m sure we’ll hear from the commander soon,” Harry said. “He might even find us tomorrow. There can’t be too many Klingon biosigns in the Delta Quadrant.” 

Harry’s smile almost convinced her to let go of her dread and believe in the fantasy. She might have been able to go along with it if she weren’t so damn cold! She shivered violently as a chill ran down her spine—she could swear she heard her teeth rattle. She ran her hands briskly up and down her arms trying to generate a little heat. 

Tom touched her hand, then sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re freezing! You should be down by the fire,” he admonished.

B’Elanna shrugged off his hand, irritated by his protective attitude. “All the women are down there talking babies,” she said shortly, glancing toward the rough horizon. “I don’t exactly have much to contribute to the conversation.”

She heard Tom’s frustrated sigh, then a rustle of clothing. “Fine, then take this.” He held out his uniform jacket. She just stared at him. He flapped it at her, and the arms jerked like a convulsive ensign trapped in a flow conduit. “Put it on,” he urged.

“Tom, you’ll freeze,” she said.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t worry about him,” Harry said dryly. “He has his indignation to keep him warm.”

“Fine.” B’Elanna snatched the jacket out of Tom’s hands and wrapped it around her shoulders. “If you freeze to death, at least we’ll have fresh meat for breakfast.”

Tom grinned and stepped in close. He ran the zipper up to her breasts, trapping her arms inside his coat, then tied the sleeves across her chest in a loose knot. “Better?”

She had to admit that it was. The double layer of cloth effectively cut the wind, and Tom’s body heat still clung to the fabric, enveloping her in warmth. The smell of his soap and clean sweat clung to the coat, as well, and they mingled with the frosty night air, filling her nose with the most alluring scent…

B’Elanna stepped away from him, swallowing hard. She reached out a hand from under the jacket’s hem and steadied herself against the cliff face. She moved the few meters toward Harry, and sank down out of the breeze, perching her bottom on a gnarled stump of tree root. 

“Tom,” Harry admonished, “that’s very noble, but it’s against regulations. If the captain sees you without your jacket, she’ll have your hide.”

“So then I’d be coatless and skinless. I’d still freeze. Unless B’Elanna is willing to warm me up later.” 

His smile was lethal, and she deliberately ignored the momentary flush of warmth she felt when his eyes held hers. She looked away. “Don’t worry, I’ll give it back as soon as I can get my teeth to stop chattering,” she replied.

Harry sat beside her, and put an arm around her shoulders. “We’re gonna get out of this,” he said, more to himself than to her, she was sure.

“I dunno, Harry, the odds have been against us from the start,” Tom stated morosely. B’Elanna couldn’t tell if he was just tweaking his friend, or if he meant it. 

“Maybe we should have stayed with those Thirty-sevens, after all,” he continued. “At least we’d be all warm, dry, and paired off now.”

B’Elanna snapped her head up at that comment. “Paired off?”

“Yeah, you know: a boy for every girl. Or boy, I suppose.” He grinned again, and B’Elanna narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s a biological imperative, B’Elanna; man is driven to reproduce.” He shrugged and settled beside her on the stump.

“Then why isn’t Voyager overrun with babies?” 

“It’s an enclosed space with limited supplies. But if we were part of a colony, with enough land and resources to support ourselves, and the technology to make it happen…” 

B’Elanna snorted and hunched her shoulders. “We don’t even have blankets here, let alone technology. And even if we could find animals large enough to use for food and hides, how would we skin them? I really don’t think we should be thinking of producing another generation of bellies to feed until we figure out how to take care of ourselves.”

“Oh come on, B’Elanna, are you telling me you’ve never thought of settling down; having a husband and a passel of kids?” Tom’s tone was light and teasing, but she wasn’t in the mood to be teased.

“And when would I be planning this? Between enemy attacks and spatial anomalies?”

Some of Tom’s evident frustration was beginning to show in his voice. “What about when you were in the Academy? Or when you were a little girl? Didn’t you ever dream about Prince Charming whisking you off so you could live happily ever after?”

Well, if she had, she wasn’t about to tell him! “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snorted. “What the hell would I do with a prince? Besides, if I did have a passel of babies, where would I put them?”

“You could build a nursery beside the warp core; at least they’d be warm,” Harry suggested. 

B’Elanna considered the idea for a moment. It would be one way to re-supply her team of engineers, at least. 

“Not if we never get back to Voyager,” Tom said slowly. “But we should think about finding a secure cave, or a system of caves. We could even try digging into the earth, maybe building sod houses.”

“With our bare hands?” B’Elanna was sarcastic. She poked a hand out from under Tom’s oversized uniform jacket and spread her fingers wide, encompassing the camp. “And what the hell are we supposed to use to build this colony, anyway? There aren’t any trees big enough to use for lumber, provided we could cut them down.”

“I guess we’ll just have to figure out how to make tools like our ancestors did. A few stone axes wouldn’t be a bad start,” Tom countered. 

“Well, I spotted Tuvok making pointy sticks, so at least our settlement will be well defended.”

“Do you mind if we don’t talk about setting up a colony right now?” Harry interrupted. “I want to pretend for a little while longer that we’ll see Voyager again. Besides,” he added morosely, “I’d like to think that any kids I have will be with Libby.”

“Home, home, home,” Tom said, shaking his head. “That’s all anyone talks about. You know—” He bit off whatever he was about to say.

“What?” Harry prompted gently. 

Tom blew out a slow breath, and shook his head. He hugged his knees and hunched his shoulders, burying his face in his crossed arms. “I’m glad you have someone to go home to, Harry,” he said quietly. 

Harry reached beyond B’Elanna’s shoulder and tapped Tom’s arm, brushing it with his fingers. “I’m sure there are people in the Alpha Quadrant who want to hear from you,” he said sincerely. 

“Yeah,” B’Elanna agreed, “like your parole officer.” She grinned at Tom and was pleased when he allowed a tiny smile to lift the corner of his mouth. “Mister Paris,” she said in a gruff voice, “despite your outstanding record of bravery and honorable service in the Delta Quadrant, I’m still going to throw your scrawny ass back in jail for the remainder of your sentence.”

“Hey!” Tom objected. “Who’s scrawny? Besides, I wouldn’t laugh if I were you. Your lovely derriere is liable to wind up keeping mine company in Auckland.” He leaned close to her and whispered loudly. “You know, I know the boys in management. I might be able to pull a few strings—we could be roomies.” 

He waggled his eyebrows at her, and she snorted. “In your dreams, maybe,” she grinned, giving him a friendly shove with her shoulder. It felt good to be sandwiched between the two larger men, and, if she could just get rid of the fluttering in her belly whenever she got a whiff of Tom, she’d be able to relax and enjoy herself.

“Candace Harrison,” Harry stated.

“Who?” Tom asked. His eyes grazed past B’Elanna and landed on Harry’s profile. 

“She was a classmate of mine.” Harry smiled at the memory. “She was beautiful and elegant and smart. I had the biggest crush on her.” 

“Were you guys roomies?” Tom asked, grinning suggestively. “You know, if you two had paired off,” he slanted a glance at B’Elanna, “we might be calling you Harry Harrison.”

“No chance of that,” Harry laughed, “I worshiped her from afar. We had a couple of classes together in freshman year, but she was going into sciences so I didn’t see much of her after that. I’d just love to know how she’s doing—where she was posted, if she’s married, that sort of thing.” He smiled wistfully and shook his head. “And I’ll probably never know, now.” He withdrew his arm from B’Elanna and stretched out on the dirt, propping his elbows on the old tree stump.

“I dunno, Har,” Tom chided, “the captain is practically obsessed with getting us home. Don’t sell her short yet.”

“And you’re practically obsessed with building a colony. Why is that?”

Tom shrugged. “It just feels like we’re wasting our time. Seventy years, Harry. Even if some of us lived to get home, chances are everyone we loved would be dead. It’s a noble idea, but it seems so… useless, somehow.”

“Then why didn’t you stay with the Thirty-sevens?” B’Elanna asked quietly.

Tom grimaced and looked at his hands. “I think I’ve disappointed enough people in my life, don’t you? I didn’t want to let down the captain.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “So, who’s your lost love? Who’d you leave behind?”

The silence stretched a while, and B’Elanna didn’t think Tom was going to answer the question. Finally, he drew in a slow breath and said quietly, “Susie Crabtree. She dumped me the middle of freshman year.” He laughed softly, and rubbed his chin on his shoulder. B’Elanna heard his day-old growth of beard rasp on his shirt, and felt a sudden curl of desire in her belly. She shifted a little closer to Harry.

“She wanted to concentrate on her studies instead of her social life?” B’Elanna asked. That’s what she had done. When she’d first arrived at the Academy she’d been almost overwhelmed by male attention, but had rebuffed everyone. She was there to learn, to become the best, not to be voted prom queen. She stared at Tom’s expression and suddenly wondered if she’d bruised any egos. She was certain she hadn’t left any broken hearts behind, but…

Tom laughed quietly and explained, “She said I was too serious; no fun. She called me boring.”

“Ouch!” Harry winced. “That must have hurt.”

“What hurt was that she was right,” Tom chuckled. “I learned to loosen up a little after that.”

B’Elanna’s laughter was explosive. “Never let it be said you can’t take a hint!” 

Tom winked at her and joined in her laugher. 

Harry turned to B’Elanna, an expectant look on his face. “Well?” he said.

“Well what?” she hedged.

“It’s your turn,” Harry replied. 

She bit her lip as Adam Bolen’s blond, blue-eyed, perfect features immediately flashed into her mind. “I didn’t really date much in the Academy,” she said. “I wasn’t there long enough to get serious about anyone.”

Tom flashed her a look that said he didn’t believe her. 

“Oh, alright. When I was in high school, I had a crush on my Elemental Properties teacher. He had the most beautiful brown eyes.” She heard the wistful note in her own voice, and felt the heat rise in her cheeks as she blushed in embarrassment.

Tom and Harry exchanged a look over her head, and Harry smiled at her. “What was this older man’s name?”

B’Elanna hesitated. She was hoping they wouldn’t ask; she should have known better. She sighed, and mumbled, “Stonak.”

Tom’s head jerked up, and his eyebrows drew together in a frown. “A Vulcan? B’E-laan-na!” His voice mirrored his disappointment, and he shook his head at her. Harry just chuckled.

“Hey!” She nudged Tom again, almost rocking him off the tree root. “I didn’t laugh at you about Susie. Besides, there was a lot to admire about him. He was so calm and peaceful and… soothing.”

Tom snorted. “I guess what they say about opposites attracting is true.” He looked into her eyes and smiled, and B’Elanna couldn’t help but return his grin.

“Come on, B’Elanna,” Harry prompted, “didn’t you have a crush on any of the boys in your school? We’re discussing might-have-beens here.”

She hooked her nose inside the collar of Tom’s jacket and drummed her feet on the ground, refusing to answer. The tangy, citrus scent of his aftershave clung to the fabric, and she closed her eyes and slowly inhaled. 

“B’Elanna?” Tom drew out her name in a low rumble that forced her to open her eyes and slant a look in his direction. He traded another significant look with Harry.

“Who was he? You can tell us,” Harry cajoled.

B’Elanna rolled her eyes and sighed. Clearly they wouldn’t be happy until they’d heard every last embarrassing detail. “There was this… boy. In my senior year in high school. He…” she hesitated, unsure how much to tell them. Oh, what the hell, she thought. 

“He was gorgeous. All the girls had a huge crush on him, including me. I even took a horribly boring Bolian literature course because he was in the class.”

“What happened?” Harry asked, smiling at her.

Tom was watching her intently, his lips curved in a slight smile. B’Elanna couldn’t help thinking that Tom’s eyes were bluer than Adam’s. She shook herself slightly and picked up the story, laughing at the memory.

“We worked on a few presentations together. We talked. We became friends…” 

“Did you two date?” Harry asked.

B’Elanna shook her head. “Not exactly. He did take me out for coffee, just before I headed to the Academy. He wanted to tell me something—”

“That he’d loved you since the first day he saw you, and he’d wait for you to finish Starfleet?” Tom asked quietly.

“Noooo, not exactly… He told me that if he could have ever loved a woman it would have been Tammy Baxter, then he introduced me to his boyfriend, the waiter.” 

Harry winced, but Tom threw back his head and laughed until there were tears in his eyes. 

“Happy now?” B’Elanna asked, laughing herself.

“Oh yeah,” Tom said, wiping his cheeks. He looked at her and smiled. His eyes glowed. “The man obviously had no taste.”

“I wouldn’t say that. The waiter was a very good-looking guy. They would have made beautiful babies together.” 

She caught Tom’s shiver, and her forehead creased in irritation. “Now you’re cold. Here.” 

She wriggled an arm lose and pulled down the fastener on the jacket, then shrugged it off her shoulders and held it out to him. He wavered a moment before taking it from her, and when he did, his chilly fingers brushed hers and she clucked at him. “You should have told me you were cold, Tom. I would have given it back sooner.”

Tom slipped his arms through the coat and zipped it quickly. “I thought you promised to warm me up. I hoped you were going to use Maquis methods, not Starfleet ones.”

“Maquis methods?” B’Elanna raised an eyebrow. “What are those?”

“Infiltration, invasion, acquisition...” His tone was low, seductive. 

B’Elanna snorted. “Shows what you know. It was usually hit-and-run. We’d attack the target and fly away before they could retaliate. No one ever caught us,” her voice dropped to a husky note and she widened her eyes, “because we didn’t hang around long enough to get caught.” She was dimly aware that she was flirting with him, and that it felt good. 

“Sounds pretty lonely to me. Sometimes getting caught is half the fun.”

“Then the other half would be the chase, I presume?” 

“Actually, with you I think it just might be.” Tom smiled warmly at her, and she glanced away from him, suddenly embarrassed by his attention.

“You know what I want to catch?” Harry asked. “A few hours sleep, and I can’t if you two don’t stop taking.” He lowered himself fully onto the rough ground and laid his head next to B’Elanna’s bottom on the tree root. He turned and presented his back to her with a heartfelt sigh. She was tempted to ruffle his hair, or poke him in the ribs, but she resisted. 

The silence held for about ten seconds.

“I’d kill for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich right now,” Tom said morosely.

“Peanut butter?” B’Elanna sounded disgusted. “If you’re going to wish for something to eat, wish for chocolate.”

“Chocolate what?” 

“Just chocolate; a big, half-melted, gooey chunk of chocolate.” B’Elanna shrugged and moved slightly closer to Tom’s warm body.

“You have to think bigger,” Tom admonished as he slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Chocolate pudding, chocolate brownies, chocolate chip cookies—”

“If you two don’t stop talking about food, I’ll have to kill you,” Harry murmured. 

“Sorry, Harry, but it’s one of the basics of survival. Food, water and shelter.”

“Food, a bath, and a bed,” Harry corrected. 

“Uh-uh,” B’Elanna said, “warmth, companionship, and chocolate. Trust me.” She grinned at Tom, and their eyes met and held for a moment.  His expression was unguarded for once, and his clear blue eyes were mesmerizing. She dropped her gaze to her booted feet, and scuffed the ground.

“Are you cold?” he asked. He inched closer and pulled her more snugly against his side.

“No,” she answered, trying, and failing, to suppress a shiver. 

Following Harry’s example, Tom dropped his hand from her shoulder and lay down on the ground. He opened his arms to her. “Come here,” he said softly.

She hesitated only a moment before giving in to temptation and spooning up against him, and laying with her back to his front. She rested her cheek on his bent arm, butting the top of her head against a tree root. He wrapped his free arm snuggly around her waist, and nudged her knees apart so he could slip a leg between hers. Warmth suffused her body and she let her eyes drift closed, but when he pulled her flush against his longer frame, she froze.

“Relax,” he whispered in her ear. 

She consciously did just that. Concentrating on letting each muscle go slack, she sagged against him. Heat radiated from both him and Harry, and the two men made an effective windbreak. If the ground had only been a little warmer—and softer—she might have been almost comfortable.

“Go to sleep,” Tom said quietly, his breath ruffling her hair. Easy for him to say, she thought. But far sooner than she expected, she did. 

@@@

She was larger than Voyager. Larger than planets. And she was getting bigger. Soon she would encompass the whole galaxy. All the galaxies. They were born of her, formed in her womb, then set free to light up the void—billions of dancing fairy lights, created by her. She was mother. She was god. It was her destiny.

But for now, she simply floated, taking in the marvel of it: the darkness and the light and the beauty of her children dancing and spinning in the velvet black of space. It was nice, she decided. Peaceful. Quiet.

It was lonely, though, and she was just beginning to wonder where everyone was when the clown arrived. He was dressed in a baggy white tuxedo with long, generously cut tails and an orange fright wig. He wore a huge white bowtie covered with multi-coloured polka dots. The purple was pretty, she noticed absently.

She’d always hated clowns, ever since she was a child and her abuela had taken her to an old-fashioned circus. They were loud, erratic, and they had an irritating habit of trying to make her smile. Her recent encounter with that insane clown manifestation on the Kohl settlement had only cemented her opinion. He’d not only been irritating, he’d been nuts. She was pretty sure she wasn’t going to like this guy, either. 

He bobbed in front of her, performing a little dance that ended with a flourish. “Do you know what it’s made of?” he asked, his voice squeaking and grating on her hard-won serenity. He bowed low, sweeping his hand in a grand gesture to include the stars and space around them.

“What?” she asked, annoyed at the strange little interloper.

“All of it: the universe, everything. Do you know how it started?”

B’Elanna shook her head but didn’t answer. She wanted her solitude back, and didn’t want to encourage him to stick around.

He flicked his jacket tails behind him and withdrew a giant tube of lipstick from his pants pocket, then drew a huge circle in the space between them, as if writing on a pane of glass. He’d taken on the attitude of a college professor at an old-fashioned chalkboard. “The first atom was the Lorne atom,” he said with exaggerated seriousness. “Can you tell me of what it was composed?”

“No.” B’Elanna shook her head again; her eyes narrowed at his supercilious tone.

The clown peered at her through the bright red circle he’d drawn in the air—or rather in the airless vacuum of space—and frowned from inside his wide, painted-on grin. “You should,” he said pointedly. “They come from you.” 

He gestured to a small asteroid belt that oozed out of her belly and zipped toward a cluster of planetoids near her elbow. She tried to make a grab for it, but it spun apart and slipped through her fingers.

Ignoring her frantic attempts to reign in the small celestial bodies, he raised his tube of lipstick and drew a line down the middle of his circle, chopping it into two parts. The center line obligingly thinned, pulled, and finally split into two neat circles. It reminded her of a cell dividing. 

He traced the circumference of the left circle with a rapid whirling of his hand and arm. “The Lorne atom was made up of two particles,” he lectured, his voice rising as the words tumbled from him. “The first particle was called B1.”

“B1,” B’Elanna echoed.

He wrote the number backwards so B’Elanna could read it. He was about to outline the right-hand circle when he stopped short and peered at his lipstick. It was worn almost to the rim, and he clucked, then tossed it over his shoulder. B’Elanna watched the fat tube slowly tumble end over end, then right itself, and grow a saucer section and a pair of nacelles. It launched into warp with a streak of white light and disappeared.

He reached again into his voluminous pocket, this time withdrawing a little bowl of chocolate pudding and a paintbrush. Dipping the brush into the bowl, he tapped his chin as he studied his diagram. Finally, he raised his hand and began to trace the second circle. The globs of chocolate pudding hung suspended in space. 

“The second particle was called—”

B’Elanna woke with a start. It was dark, the pale glow of the planet’s moon doing little to illuminate the nook where she was sleeping. She opened her eyes wide, trying to let in as much light as possible. She could make out a rough landscape—craggy rocks, the tree root above her head, but not much else. 

She felt the heavy, unfamiliar weight of an arm draped over her waist, and twisted, turning onto her back to see who was holding her. Tom’s hand tightened on her ribs, and he whispered in her ear, “Shh, it’s just me, remember?”

For some reason better left unexplored, that didn’t reassure her. His eyes stared into hers, and his breath stirred the hair at her neck. He hadn’t loosened his grip on her waist, and his body was still tightly pressed against her own. 

B’Elanna swallowed and ran the tip of her tongue over her lips to wet them. “Wha—what is it? Did I hear something?” she whispered, glancing over his shoulder.

The telltale beginning of a grin pulled the corners his mouth upward, and his eyes crinkled with suppressed laughter. “Never mind, go back to sleep,” Tom said quietly.

She started to struggle up, but Tom tightened his grip on her waist, and pressed her legs to the rough ground with his knee. She looked a question at him, and watched him shake his head and exhale slowly. 

The noise came again—a high, panting gasp. It must have been the sound that woke her. It was followed by a low groan, and B’Elanna felt her cheeks flush with heat when she recognized what the sounds were. Tom’s chest was shaking with silent laughter. She turned away to face the ground so he couldn’t see her embarrassment. 

He leaned in close to whisper in her ear, and his warm breath puffed on the back of her neck. “The basics, remember? Since we don’t have any chocolate…” He let the sentence dangle, but she caught his meaning: companionship.

“You mean someone is…?”

“Two someones, I’d think,” he quipped. “Maybe three.” 

She turned back to stare at him, not sure if she was shocked or amused by his outrageous suggestion. He grinned saucily, and she realized just how close he was. His mouth was hovering bare centimeters from her own, and his long, lean body was pressed so firmly against her that he was half on top of her. She felt a flash of heat go through her; a sweet sensation that left her nerve endings humming. 

She felt something else, too. Though he’d tried to hide it by angling his hips away from her, she distinctly felt the hard line of an erection pressed against her thigh. She tensed automatically and her breath caught in her chest. Tom closed his eyes and loosened her slightly, pulling away from her a bit. She immediately felt the chill of the night air sweep across her body, and she realized she wanted him back. 

There was another muffled gasp, and the sound of some loose rocks skittering down the cliff face, then silence. B’Elanna released a slow breath, and turned back onto her side. Tom’s arm was still loosely draped over her hip—he was no longer clutching her so tightly—and his hand hung idly across her belly. She stared at the craggy mountain range in the distance in front of her, and shivered. 

And then it struck her. “Where’s Harry?” she asked, astonished that she hadn’t noticed until now that he was gone.

“Latrine?” Tom suggested. “Or guard duty, maybe?”

“Really?” She felt Tom shrug. “You don’t think…?”

“No!” He was adamant, and she felt relieved. Harry had just been talking of getting home to Libby. She didn’t want to think that he could just forget her so easily. Or worse, be intimate with someone while he was still planning on having a family with his fiancé. Of course, sex sometimes had very little to do with love; she was adult enough to realize that. But she felt the Harry she knew would never be so cavalier about lovemaking. 

She shivered again, and clamped her teeth together to keep them from chattering. Tom had slowly retreated from her, and now her entire back was exposed to the frigid night air. He had pulled back so his hand rested lightly on her hip, and heat radiated from his palm right through her slacks to her skin. It was the only warm area on her body. She had a momentary fantasy of him sliding his hand along her ribs to cup her breast, and dispelled it immediately.

She made up her mind and moved backward, bringing her back flush with his chest once again. She was careful to avoid his groin and that tempting erection, though. She felt Tom tense, and whispered his own advice to him, “Relax. Go back to sleep,” before closing her eyes and burrowing into his arms. 

He took the hint and hugged her tightly, pulling her against his chest, and she immediately felt warmer. She pillowed her head on his biceps, and breathed in his scent—part soap, part Tom—then brought her hands up to hug his arm, locking in her own body heat. If they did have to build a settlement on this god-forsaken rock, she decided, she was claiming Tom as her roomie.

@@@ 

“Hey, Sleepyhead, wake up.” 

Someone was shaking her gently by the shoulder, and B’Elanna voiced her displeasure with a low growl. She wanted to go back to sleep. Ignoring whomever it was, she burrowed her face into her pillow. It tried to move. Now, that was odd, she thought absently. She snaked an arm around it and held it firmly, then hooked her nose in its uniform jacket. 

“B’Elanna?” 

Her pillow rumbled her name, and she realized that it had a heartbeat. No, that just couldn’t be right… She cracked open one eye and peered up into Tom’s amused smile. Tom? Oh, yeah… Apparently sometime in the night she had turned in his arms, and she came fully awake to find she was resting her head on his shoulder. She had his chest in a death-grip, and had thrown a leg over both of his, securing him to her. Kahless, she was almost lying on top of him!

Pushing away from him, she sat up quickly and ran a hand over her hair to smooth it in place. “What… what time is it?” she asked, looking around their improvised campsite.

“Time to get up,” Harry said. He was crouched beside them, and B’Elanna caught the look he sent Tom; a raised eyebrow accompanied by a furtive, curious smile. 

“The captain wants to do a head count. Neelix and Kes are missing.” 

“Missing?” Tom jumped to his feet as Harry helped B’Elanna up. “How could they be missing? They’re probably just off looking for breakfast.”

“I don’t know,” Harry shook his head. “But the captain wants to see us, so you’d better come now.”

B’Elanna led the way to the base camp, wanting to put as much distance between Tom and her as she could. She could still feel the warmth of his body, the imprint of his chest on her arms. She fisted her hands and tucked them under her elbows, creating an effective barrier between herself and any human contact. 

Or so she thought. A patch of loose shale shifted under her, and she fell backwards right into Tom’s arms. “Careful,” he murmured in her ear, as he set her on her feet again. His low warning sent a shiver along her spine. 

This was silly. And totally out of character. Two of her crewmates were missing, and she was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush! And over Tom, of all people. He was her friend, nothing more. She might as well have a crush on Harry. 

She glanced sideways at Tom, taking in his dour expression. Though he nodded a greeting to other members of the crew, his usual carefree smile was noticeably absent, and in its place his mouth was drawn into a thin line. Despite his flip assurances to Harry, he was genuinely worried about Kes and Neelix. B’Elanna was sure they’d just gone off somewhere, taken advantage of the sunrise to gather more food. But Tom was obviously upset that they were missing. 

A little germ of doubt crept into her mind. Tom had once had a crush on Kes—it had been obvious to everyone. She had to wonder now if he had ever gotten over the sweet, serene young woman. Maybe his physical reaction last night had had more to do with the sounds he heard than the woman he held… 

The thought made her cringe. Thank heavens she hadn’t given in to her desire for him. She risked another peek, and caught him looking at her—staring at her, to be precise. She smiled halfheartedly and looked away, not ready to pretend that she was unaffected by sleeping in his arms. 

She needed a life, she realized suddenly. If sleeping beside one of her best friends could affect her like this, then there was obviously something lacking in her personal life. She worked too much, and she spent too many of her off hours alone. Well, if they got back to Voyager, she would change that. Even if they didn’t get back… Freddy Bristow had made it clear that he was interested, and he was a nice guy; good looking, tall, a little young and… dim… but maybe he’d grow on her. 

She was kidding herself, of course. The only tall, good-looking guy she could imagine spending any intimate time with was Tom.

They entered the base camp and Tom immediately went to stand near the captain and Tuvok. B’Elanna hung back. Harry stayed with her, turning to survey the faces of the crew who’d already gathered. He was counting heads. She took a quick glance around. It didn’t look like anyone else was missing.

“All right, everyone,” the captain began to speak. “Almost two hours ago, Kes and Neelix went in search of food. They informed Lieutenant Tuvok where they were going, and how long they would be gone, but that time has passed and they haven’t returned. A search of the area revealed nothing.

“I’m going to need six search parties to spread out and find them. A senior officer will lead each team, accompanied by three members of security. I’ll need volunteers to fill the groups. When you’ve assembled, I want you to see Lieutenant Tuvok. He’s fashioned some weapons. Let’s hope we don’t need them.” 

She began wandering amongst the crew, making a point of touching them, of reassuring them. “We don’t know what dangers this planet might hold for us. There may be natives we haven’t encountered yet, and more hostile animal life like that snake that killed Mister Hogan. I don’t think I need to tell you to keep your eyes and ears open, and to watch your back.” 

Janeway lifted her chin and glanced at several members of her crew, including B’Elanna, and held their gaze for a moment. This was the captain’s other stare, the one that made you feel you could do whatever she expected of you. It worked. B’Elanna was suddenly certain her team would be safe, and that they would find their missing people.

“I will not let this planet take another member of my crew!” Janeway said decisively. 

B’Elanna noted the look of determination on the captain’s face, and she believed her. There was something about Kathryn Janeway that inspired confidence; she had balls to spare.

Glancing past the captain, B’Elanna saw that Tom was speaking with Tuvok, testing a short spear. She watched the play of muscles in his arms and shoulders, and sighed, trying to bring her mind back to their new reality. Kes. Neelix. She needed to think about them right now, not Tom’s shapely ass.

A shadow passed in front of her, and a pair of black ‘fleet boots stepped into her line of vision. She looked up, then further up, into Mike Ayala’s calm features. He was holding one of the spears Tuvok and his security crew had fashioned from slim branches and sharp, flat chunks of slate. They’d bound the stone to the poles with what looked like tree roots, and B’Elanna marveled at the security chief’s efforts. It didn’t look too deadly, but it would do a respectable amount of damage if it hit the target.

B’Elanna raised an eyebrow, and glanced once more at Tom, who was still talking with Tuvok. Tom had his back to her, but she saw him tense and turn his head slightly. Ayala had been standing beside the two of them while the captain gave her speech, and she wouldn’t put it past Tom to suggest Ayala be assigned to her so he could look after her. It rankled slightly; she was more than capable of looking after herself, and Tom knew it.

“Guess I’m with you,” Ayala said quietly.

“Are you? And who’s idea was that?” When Ayala didn’t reply, B’Elanna snorted and turned away from him. “Gather a team,” she said over her shoulder as she moved toward the rest of the command crew. Harry followed quietly behind her.

A cool breeze blew from the plain, and cut across their campsite. It sliced through B’Elanna’s uniform—so much for Starfleet all-weather gear—and she shivered. The senior officers, including Joe Carey, were standing in a patch of sunlight, sheltered from the wind by a deep slice in the mountain face. B’Elanna picked her way slowly over the rocks and walked up to Tom. She stood quietly beside him and listened to Tuvok instruct a group of people in the proper technique for holding a spear. The word ‘persnickety’ came to mind… 

“You must balance the weapon according to your height and weight. Ideally, this would be a jabbing weapon,” he lectured, “however, since the flora in this area has failed to yield branches long enough for us to use as a proper pole, I would advise you throw the spear toward your intended target.”

“You shouldn’t have bothered with the spears, Tuvok. We could just throw rocks instead,” Tom noted dryly.

“If my team encounters anything like that worm yesterday, I think I’ll run,” B’Elanna added.

Tom snapped his head around and frowned, but he kept his mouth shut when she raised an accusing eyebrow at him. 

“Running would be the wisest option, Lieutenant,” Tuvok agreed as he handed her a spear.

She tested its balance and found it to be a little top-heavy. She’d have to remember that if she needed to throw it at anything. Or anyone. 

“I don’t want any heroics out there,” Janeway put in as she hefted her own weapon. “Use your best judgment. If running away is the safest course of action, do it.”

“Excuse me, Captain,” Harry said. “But if Commander Chakotay were here, he’d object to you going with a search party.”

“I’m sure he would, Ensign. But he’s not here.” She reached toward Harry and patted his shoulder. “And I want our family all together when we see him again.” 

B’Elanna saw Janeway’s expression harden, and barely caught her next comment: ‘What’s left of us.’ 

B’Elanna dropped her gaze to her boots as she spared a moment to wonder how Chakotay was doing, if he was even still alive. She looked up again and caught Tom watching her with a quizzical expression. She smiled half-heartedly in return and turned her attention back to the captain, who’d resumed speaking.

“We meet back here in an hour, whether you find Kes and Neelix or not. And I don’t want to see so much as a sprained ankle, is that clear?”

Tom grinned, and his ‘Yes ma’am’ almost sounded like they were back at their stations on the bridge. The captain’s mouth turned up as she said, “Dismissed.”

B’Elanna turned to head back to her group when Tom stopped her with a hand on her elbow. She looked up to see a tightly controlled expression on his face. “I hope you can run fast,” he said quietly.

“I was on the track team in the Academy. I think Professor Kirkendall was the only person there who was sorry to see me leave.”

Tom stared at her for a moment, then laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure she wasn’t,” he said sincerely.

She glanced toward Ayala, and saw that he had a team of four men with him, all former Maquis. Her brows drew into a frown. They’d spent the last year and half pulling the Maquis and Starfleet crews together—she’d actively worked toward uniting her engineers into one smooth-working team—and she wouldn’t let the fear of being stranded on this worthless rock separate them now.

“Tom,” she called over her shoulder as she marched toward the group of former rebels, “come with me a minute.”

She shoved her way between Ayala and Lang, and planted her hands on her hips. “Foster, Dalby, you’re with Lieutenant Paris. Does anyone have a problem with that?”

“Not me,” Tom said, his eyes bright with laughter. B’Elanna glared at him, warning him not to so much as smile. He glanced toward his own team, milling in the sunshine with Tuvok and Carey. “You can take Molina and Vorik.”

B’Elanna narrowed her eyes and scanned his crew. “How about Kaplan? I’m sure she’s just as capable as Molina.”

Tom bit his lip. He puffed out a breath. She watched him trade a quick glance with Ayala, and beat down the urge to sucker-punch him in the gut. Both of them.

“Fine,” Tom said. “Gentlemen…” He spread a hand wide, gesturing toward his little group at the bottom of the hill. 

“Don’t coddle me, Mike,” B’Elanna muttered to Ayala after Tom had walked out of hearing range. “I can take a harder hit than you can, and you know it!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lieutenant,” he answered smoothly.

“Sure you don’t.” 

Kaplan and Vorik reached them. B’Elanna glanced quickly toward the captain for confirmation. At Janeway’s nod, she addressed her group. “Let’s move out.”

@@@ 

They’d been walking for about fifteen minutes, stretched out in an irregular line across the tundra with B’Elanna on point and Ayala in the rear. They hadn’t found any signs of Kes and Neelix. They hadn’t seen much of anything, in fact: no water, no plants except the same low scrub and spiky bushes that populated the main camp—nothing but rock and more rock. They hadn’t seen any animals, either, though that didn’t mean there weren’t any. The natives probably had the good sense to stay out of the cold wind.

“I hope this isn’t this continent’s summer,” Kaplan commented, shivering.

“If we had been able to do a thorough scan of the planet’s weather patterns, we could extrapolate the length and severity of the seasons,” Vorik said. “We know we are on the southernmost tip of the northern continent, but we cannot ascertain our exact location, or how far we are from the pole.” 

B’Elanna gritted her teeth. She was beginning to regret her trade with Tom…

“We could assign people to observe and take note of the changing temperature and attempt to extrapolate the season, but since we have no equipment to record these changes, an exact reading would be impossible.” 

“Impossible? Really?” B’Elanna’s voice was clipped, strained. She tried to shrug off her unease but her nerves were strung tight. Fifteen minutes of listening to Vorik lecture on geological formations and—god forbid—his spelunking prowess, and she’d had more than enough. She was hoping to cut him off before he started on the weather. 

Just her luck, Vorik was undeterred.

“Unfortunately,” he continued, “we would have to rely on each individual’s perception of the temperature and severity of the weather, so the results would naturally be flawed—”

“Yes! Naturally!” B’Elanna cut him off, this time for good. “You’re correct. Personal perceptions are an imperfect science. But as fascinating as this conversation is, I think we should be listening for Kes and Neelix. If they’re calling for help, we’ll want to hear them.”

“Of course, Lieutenant,” Vorik agreed, subdued. 

She felt like she’d kicked a puppy. Which was ridiculous of course, since Vulcans couldn’t have their feelings hurt. Still…. She risked a glance at the ensign—he was studying the rocks at his feet—and growled under her breath. Her stomachs rumbled: she was starving. And she had to relieve herself again, and the thrill of peeing on the ground was starting to wear thin. 

She shivered as a damp gust of wind blew her hair into her face. Her team was keeping their eyes open for signs of food and water, and right now she felt thirsty enough to lick the moisture off a cave wall, worm or no worm. One thing was for sure, unless they found a source of fresh water soon, they wouldn’t last long enough to set up that colony Tom had been dreaming about last night. 

She wondered where Tom was and if his team had had any success. She hoped they’d managed to find something, whether it be their missing friends, or breakfast. She was almost grateful to Kes and Neelix for wandering off—it gave Tom a chance to feel needed. He was right, a pilot wasn’t much use on this primitive world. Neither was an engineer, for that matter. What good was her expertise on warp mechanics and gel-pack technology when they couldn’t even reinvent the wheel?

Ayala moved up beside her, and she shook the hair out of her eyes as she glanced toward him. “Great spot for a picnic,” she said, purposefully injecting a humorous lilt into her voice. 

It was an old joke, from when they’d been in the Maquis together. They’d been on a colony, rounding up survivors after a Cardassian raid when Chell—who generally thought with his stomach—had commented that the hills surrounding the settlement were pretty. He’d mused that it would make a great place for a picnic if it weren’t for the smoke from the burned out buildings.

They’d been tired enough to find his statement hysterically funny, and after that—whether they were pinned down in a fire fight, or mopping up after one—someone would always make that comment, and it was guaranteed to cut through the tension and lighten the moment. 

“If you don’t mind the worms,” Ayala countered. He smiled at her, then shifted his gaze to the hills in the distance.

A sudden thought came to her, and she paused. “Were you… were you on security detail last night?” She tried to sound casual. 

“For a while, why?”

“Oh, I was just wondering…” She reached down and plucked a long piece of stiff grass then absently brought it to her mouth. Ayala grabbed her arm, stopping her movement before she could put the straw between her lips. 

“It could be poisonous, Lieutenant.”

“I doubt it,” she scoffed. “Those roots were fine. Disgusting, but fine.” 

“Better than leola root.”

“True.” She tossed the stem away with a flick of her wrist. “What about Harry? Was he on duty?”

“As a matter of fact, Ensign Kim took the pre-dawn shift. Why?”

“Oh, I … I just woke up at one point and he was gone.”

Ayala nodded, and she was grateful that he didn’t make any comments about her sleeping arrangements. It occurred to her that if they’d been on Voyager, she’d be the center of a rapidly turning rumor mill. She might be anyway. Sharing breakfast with Tom and Harry was one thing, but sharing a bed with them both—no matter that the bed in question was little more than a scuffed-out hollow in the ground—was grounds for rampant innuendo. 

She slanted a glance at the big man, and blew out a slow breath. “You didn’t hear anything last night, did you? During Harry’s shift?”

“No, did you?” He swung toward her and pinned her with a dark stare. “What sort of sound? Did you report it to Lieutenant Tuvok?”

“No! It was just… I dunno. Never mind, I’m sure it was nothing.”

“Did it sound like an animal? Or a native? We can’t rule out the fact that there may be intelligent life on this planet. Just because we haven’t seen anyone—”

“No, no. It was just one of the crew, I’m sure.” Or two of the crew; maybe three. She almost grinned remembering the teasing glint in Tom’s eyes last night. Kahless, he’d smelled good. Far better than he had a right to smell. She’d been in close quarters with sweaty, grubby men who hadn’t seen the inside of a sonic shower in far too long. Tom should have sent her highly sensitive Klingon nose reeling. But…

She shuddered and clamped down on that train of thought immediately. Neelix. They had to find Neelix. And Kes. The cook and the nurse both missing—it didn’t bode well for their colony. No doubt they’d been off looking for herbs. Well, B’Elanna hoped they’d found breakfast, and not become breakfast.

Unless, of course, they’d merely gone off for a little quiet time together. A little time alone, away from prying eyes and ears… The thought struck her that it just might have been Kes and Neelix that she’d heard last night. B’Elanna stifled a laugh, and it came out as more of a snort. She directed a rather non-convincing cough at Ayala as cover, but he looked dubious and raised an eyebrow.

She was about to attempt a flippant comment when she stopped suddenly and put up a hand to quiet her friend.

“Do you hear something?” Ayala asked.

“No.” B’Elanna turned and paced a few steps to her right. “Do you smell that?”

Ayala wrinkled his nose, taking a few exaggerated sniffs of the morning air. He shook his head.

“It’s water,” B’Elanna said quietly. The others had clustered around her, and they all started searching the ground like a parody of an old-fashioned Terran Easter egg hunt. 

B’Elanna cocked her head and listened. She heard a faint pattering sound coming from a hilly area ahead of them, and started toward it at a run. Water. If there was a chance that she’d found a source of fresh water…

It was no more than a trickle exiting a crevice in the stone, and it disappeared into the rocky ground as soon as it hit the earth, but she was more than willing to claim it. If she’d been thinking about survival instead of a pair of blue eyes she would have noticed how the vegetation was thicker and greener around the base of the cliff wall. It was a sure tip-off that there was a source of water nearby; a sign every first year cadet should know. 

B’Elanna pressed her palms against the vertical stream, letting the water wet her fingertips and soak into her uniform sleeves. She craned her neck, and traced the stream back to an opening in the stone about five meters above her head. It was a steep ascent, and impassable without climbing gear—though maybe Vorik-the-mountain-man could do it. There didn’t seem to be any way to trace the water to its source, and no way of catching it, save digging a well. She brought her fingers to her face and inhaled. It smelled slightly sulfurous, but not bad, necessarily, and she hesitantly licked some of the moisture from her palm.

“B’Elanna!”

Well, that had shaken her old friend from his practiced Starfleet discipline! Ayala grabbed her by the upper arm and spun her around to face him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

“I’m testing the water. Relax, Mike, I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Lieutenant,” Vorik said, “may I remind you that your actions are foolhardy in the extreme. You have no way to verify whether this water is contaminated. It could be laced with toxins, or contain a parasite.”

“Look,” B’Elanna addressed the two men, “we’re not going last much longer on this planet unless we find some fresh water. And since I’m the one with the redundant stomachs, I’m the logical choice to test it.

“We need to find a way to mark this spot so we can come back to collect the water.” She glanced around, looking for any distinguishing markings on the boulder. It looked like the rest of the landscape; gray, boring and indistinguishable from any other clump of rock on the planet. Her team wasn’t very colourful, either. Culled from engineering and security, they cut a swath of black and dirty-yellow in the straw and dun-coloured landscape. “I don’t suppose any of you are wearing red underwear?” she asked wryly.

Where was Tom Paris and his command uniform when you needed him?

@@@@@ 

They’d been back at camp for almost half an hour, arguing over who should go check out B’Elanna’s stream, when Tom’s team finally made an appearance. He and Dalby were supporting a limping Kes, and B’Elanna bit back a sudden wash of jealousy. The young woman had a gray bandage tied around her left ankle, and Tom’s arm around her waist. Whatever was wrong with Kes’ foot, B’Elanna hoped it hurt. A lot. 

Neelix scurried along behind them, wringing his hands and explaining something at length. He reminded B’Elanna of a yappy little dog. “I knew we shouldn’t have gone so far, but everyone knows that volcanic soil is rich in nutrients. I assumed that the base of the mountain would have an abundance of edible plants.”

“I guess it’s too bad we’re not mountain goats,” Tom answered wryly. “The grass looked nice and lush. Bet it was tasty.”

“I’m so sorry, Kessy. If that cut becomes infected, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“I’m sure it will be fine, Neelix,” Kes answered softly. She sounded like she was in pain, and B’Elanna felt a tug of guilt. She hurried to join them and caught Neelix’ worried reply.

“I didn’t think it looked dangerous,” the cook continued. “Volcanoes can smolder for decades without erupting. And the rocks didn’t look that sharp.”

“You’ve never heard of a smoking gun, Neelix? Or in this case, a smoking volcano?” Tom drawled. “Basalt is as sharp as glass. Kes is lucky she didn’t sever a tendon.” 

“It’s just a small cut, really. There’s no need to go to so much fuss.”

“What happened?” Janeway had joined them. Though she was looking at Kes, it was obvious that she’d addressed Tom. He opened his mouth to answer but Neelix broke in before Tom could reply.

“It’s all my fault, Captain. I shouldn’t have gone so far, but the grass did look greener. And I thought the black rocks were water. You know, from a distance they really do look the same. It must be the way the sun reflects off the shiny surface—”

“What happened, Mister Neelix?”

“Kessy cut her leg—her ankle—on some rocks. We were looking for food near the base of the volcano—”

“Volcano?” Janeway interrupted.

Neelix turned, gesturing to a vague spot behind him. “It’s over that way, behind the mountain. That’s why you can’t see it. You have to go through the gorge and come out the other side. I thought there might be some berries, or root vegetables, anything. Volcanic soil is rich in nutrients.

“But then Kes stumbled—I should have been holding her arm, I knew the ground was uneven.”

“Tell me about the volcano. Does it look active?”

“It’s hard to say, Captain,” Tom answered. He lowered Kes onto ‘Dinner Rock’—a large flat boulder where the command crew had eaten their evening meal last night—and lifted her foot onto his knee. He eased her boot off and untied the cloth that was wrapped around her leg. B’Elanna saw that it was an undershirt—she doubted that it belonged to Kes—and she swallowed hard thinking that Tom had stripped in order to bandage his patient. 

“I’m no Volcanologist, but it didn’t look like it was going to erupt to me. There was a little steam, but no ash or magma. And there aren’t any tremors…” Tom glanced sheepishly at Neelix. “Honestly, I couldn’t even guess if it’s active or not.”

“Well, luckily we have some geologists in the crew. If it’s all the same to you, Mister Paris, I’d rather hear their guesses.” Janeway moved closer to Kes and put a hand on her shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ll be fine, Captain. I’m sure it’s not deep.”

Tom probed Kes’ cut gently, and she hissed in pain. “I wish I had something to wash this with. Even water would do,” he said.

“I found water,” B’Elanna stated bluntly.

Tom turned to stare at her, and she swallowed hard as his eyes locked with hers. 

“Where?”

“About forty minutes east of here. I think it’s east. That way.” She pointed toward the flat, barren plain behind him, and Tom swiveled his head to glance over his shoulder. They had no way of determining directions, save for landmarks, and B’Elanna had simply thought of it as ‘sun comes up’. 

“Are we going after it, Captain?” He turned his attention back to Kes’ leg. The bleeding appeared to have stopped, but it was hard to tell. He picked up the shirt and started to refold it when Janeway answered him.

“We were discussing that when you arrived. But I’m glad you’re back. When you’re done with Kes, I want her to have a look at B’Elanna.”

Tom’s head swiveled back to B’Elanna, and she fought the urge to snicker. He was going to get dizzy soon.

“What happened?” Tom asked, alarmed.

B’Elanna shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“What happened?” he repeated, unconsciously mimicking the captain/Neelix debate.

“B’Elanna decided to test the water,” Janeway answered shortly.

Tom shoved the shirt at Kes, and moved quickly to B’Elanna’s side. He brought a hand to her forehead and scowled mightily at her, his own forehead taking on a fair impression of Klingon ridges. “What the hell did you think you were doing?” he growled. “There could be contaminants in that water, something poisonous, even parasites!” 

“I think I can handle a little parasite,” B’Elanna answered dryly. She took a step back and came up hard against the rock-face. 

Tom moved in and reached for her wrist, wrapping his fingers around it and checking her pulse. “That was stupid, B’Elanna! I thought you knew better than that.”

“Thank you. I’ve already had that lecture. Twice.” B’Elanna pulled her arm out of his grip and pushed past him.

“Please, B’Elanna, let me examine you,” Kes said.

B’Elanna scowled, but she caught the look in Janeway’s eyes, and gave up the fight. She sat next to Kes on the sun-warmed rock. Kes finished tying off her improvised bandage, then placed a cool hand on B’Elanna’s forehead. “You are a little warm,” she said.

“No, I’m not. I’m freezing,” B’Elanna muttered. She clamped her mouth shut, too late.

Tom was instantly by her side, reaching for her wrist again. She evaded him. “Do you have chills? Any pain?” He placed a hand on her cheek and stared into her eyes. She felt his breath fan against her forehead, and jerked away.

“Lie down, B’Elanna. I want to check your abdomen,” Kes said.

“That’s an order, not a suggestion, Lieutenant,” the captain amended. “Why don’t we give them some privacy?” she hinted. She motioned for Neelix and the rest of Tom’s team to follow her.

B’Elanna gritted her teeth and lay back on the sun-warmed rock. She closed her eyes as warmth began to spread through her. It felt wonderful, she had to admit, and she started to drift while Kes held her wrist and timed her pulse. The stone was flat and smooth, and heat radiated from it, warming her all along the length of her body. The sun had come out of the clouds and it felt almost hot on her face. She could get used to this feeling. As heat seeped into her bottom and legs it struck her that maybe the way to keep warm at night was to sleep on the boulders instead of the dirt.

“B’Elanna’s pulse is faster than a human’s, Tom,” Kes instructed. “It’s a little quick right now, but I’ll assume that’s because she doesn’t want to be here. Right, Lieutenant?” She pulled B’Elanna’s shirt from her slacks and placed her fingers on her belly.

B’Elanna responded with a grunt, which swiftly changed into a hiss of surprise when she felt Tom’s large, warm hands slide under her uniform shirt. Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes flew open. Tom’s features were pinched with concentration as Kes guided his hands along B’Elanna’s abdomen.

“B’Elanna’s stomachs are here and here. One is tucked behind the other. Do they feel distended to you?”

Tom shook his head. “No… I can’t tell,” he admitted. He dropped his hands to B’Elanna’s waist as Kes lightly palpitated her abdomen. 

B’Elanna tensed, and felt a little tingle of warmth between her legs. Tom’s thumbs had slid under the high waistband of her slacks and rested lightly on her belly. She closed her eyes again so she wouldn’t have to look at him. 

“Does that hurt?” Kes asked. “You’ve become tense.”

“Tickles,” B’Elanna lied. 

“I’ve never taken you for the ticklish type,” Tom said quietly. His voice sent a shiver along her spine. 

Kes’ hands disappeared from her stomach, replaced by Tom’s. Her gut jerked automatically as his long, warm fingers touched her skin, and she felt a flood of moisture between her legs. Goose bumps rose on her arms and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She concentrated on keeping her breathing even.

“If B’Elanna were a full Klingon, her hearts would be here.” Kes touched her lightly. “But in this instance her human genes are prominent, and her heart is up under her breastbone.” 

Tom glided a warm palm up over B’Elanna’s ribs, heading north. His fingers brushed her breast, just missing her nipple, and she sat up abruptly, pushing both of her nurses away. 

“All right, that’s enough!” 

Tom’s hand caught under her shirt, and he pitched forward, narrowly avoiding bumping his forehead against her chin. He looked up, annoyance clearly written on his face, and pulled his hand free. 

“What now?” he said.

“Nothing! I’m fine! My pulse is normal, my eyes are normal, and my stomachs are normal. The water is normal, except for the fact that it’s draining into the rocks on the ground. Why are we sitting around here instead of going to collect it?”

Tom reached for her again, and she growled at him, “If you try to touch my liver, I’ll rip out yours and eat it!” She slipped off of the boulder and stormed off in the same direction Janeway had headed, leaving Tom and Kes standing beside Dinner Rock staring at her dust. She was fine, and her Klingon ears were working just fine, too. So well, in fact, that she heard Tom’s muttered comment. 

“Nice. Your temper’s certainly normal.” 

@@@ 

The captain and a team of geologists went with Neelix to study the threat from the volcano while B’Elanna led Ayala, Harry and Tom toward her ‘waterfall’. Tom had insisted on coming along, saying that it was such a nice morning he didn’t want to waste it by staying home. The day had warmed considerably in the last hour, and the damp wind had given way to a gentle breeze. It was a shame—they’d been hoping for rain so they could have some fresh drinking water.

Janeway had ordered Ensign Jurot to accompany them, but B’Elanna wouldn’t have cared if they’d dragged half of Sciences along. She just wanted to be there. 

“When I signed up for this mission, I didn’t know it included a forced march,” Tom quipped. “Isn’t this kind of treatment against the Organian Peace Treaty?” He was sweating, and had removed his uniform jacket and tied it around his hips. As he pushed the sleeves of his turtleneck shirt up past his elbows, the sun glinted off the golden hairs on his forearms accentuating the play of the muscles in his arms. 

B’Elanna was doing her best not to notice.

“You know,” Tom continued, “it seems to me if we want to prevent dehydration, we could take it a little slower.”

“No one ordered you to come along. You could be back at the camp right now with your feet up, preserving your bodily fluids,” B’Elanna grumbled. 

She felt immediately contrite for the snippy remark, but Tom was getting on her nerves. Her skin still tingled from his examination, and he’d decided to walk close enough to her that his upper arm kept bumping her shoulder, sending little electric shocks right down to her fingertips. At least he wasn’t trying to guide her over the rough ground. There was no way she could have handled having his hand wrapped around her elbow, or—god forbid—at the small of her back.

“What? And miss the waterfall? I was hoping to grab a shower.”

The breeze carried his scent to her nose, and she closed her eyes and breathed. He energized her, she realized. He stirred her blood. He made her uncomfortable. 

“You could use one,” she shot back, nastily, her voice shaky.

Tom stopped abruptly and swung around to face her. She almost walked right into him. “Are you angry at me for some reason?” His tone was cool, composed, but she could sense his exasperation. She was feeling a little testy herself.

B’Elanna squinted up at him. “Of course not,” she said evenly. He towered over her. The sun was a fiery aureole behind his head, casting his face in shadows. It shone directly in her eyes, however, and she wondered if he was doing it on purpose. She tried to brush past him, but he caught her arm.

“Because if you are, I’d appreciate you telling me what I did to piss you off.”

“Why would I be angry with you?” She pulled her arm out of his loose grip and looked over his shoulder toward the rest of her team. Ayala was leading them in the right direction, and he and Harry were chatting quietly about something, too low for her to hear. Jurot had hung back, but after glancing at B’Elanna and Tom, she hurried to catch up with the men. 

Did she see something on the other woman’s face? Some clue that she knew that there was something going on between her and Tom? B’Elanna didn’t trust Betazoids. No, trust wasn’t the right word. But she certainly wasn’t comfortable around them. The thought that the affable ensign could read her emotions—effectively read her mind—made her more than a little afraid that she would figure out her feelings for Tom Paris. Whatever they were… Well, if Jurot had figured it out, maybe she could let her in on the secret.

B’Elanna shifted her focus back to Tom and sighed. “I’m not angry, Tom. Believe me.” I would, however, like to throw you to the ground and tear the clothing off your back, she thought. Is your chest hair the same reddish-gold as the hair on your arms? Do you even have chest hair? 

She sucked in a steadying breath. When did she start having these feelings for Tom Paris? How had they snuck up on her, only to smack her in the head this way? Maybe she should ask Ensign Jurot.

“So what is it?” Tom asked, cutting into her musings. “Do I snore? Did I steal all the dirt last night? Do I chew with my mouth open? What?”

“Nothing. I told you.” She went to move around him, but he stepped in front of her and blocked her path.

“Then what’s with the attitude? You’ve been snapping at me since we woke up this morning and, frankly, I’m getting tired of it!” 

“Att—” B’Elanna bit her lip and tried to push past him, but he wasn’t moving. She put her hands to his shoulders and shoved. In a flash, he grabbed her wrists, holding her hands to his chest. She felt his pectoral muscles bunch and firm under her palms, and she was instantly aroused. Hell, her nipples were so erect they ached. His fingers tightened on her wrists, and her pulse skyrocketed. Obviously Tom knew nothing about Klingon foreplay—or did he? 

She felt herself start to sway toward him and yanked her hands out of his. She took a few paces backward, putting some much-needed space between them. “Look, Tom. I’m not mad at you, but if you don’t knock it off I will be! Now can we just find the water and get back to the Captain?”

He looked at her for a long moment, then shook his head. She could tell that he was annoyed with her and she didn’t blame him. He’d been reading all of her signals correctly, and, unwittingly or not, he’d responded in exactly the right way to make her Klingon blood boil.

B’Elanna brushed past him and this time he let her go. She hurried to catch up with the others—safety in numbers—and wasn’t surprised when Tom lagged behind. She knew he’d have to work off his anger by himself, in solitude, much the same way she vented hers through action. 

“…So I let him think there was supposed to be a password. He almost went in his pants!” Harry laughed. Ayala shook his head as he laughed with him.

“Why, Ensign Kim, I had no idea you had such a cruel sense of humor. You would have made a fine Maquis.”

“Oh, Harry’s full of tricks,” B’Elanna quipped, coming up between the two men. “I think we all know who taught him most of them, though.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her, and turned his head slightly, indicating Tom. He was still several meters behind them. B’Elanna shook her head and smiled, trying to get Harry to understand that she was not going to talk about it.

“Who would have guessed the day would turn out so warm, Lieutenant?” Ensign Jurot smiled widely at B’Elanna, and looked away toward the hills in the distance.

“It is a great day for a walk,” Harry agreed. “Are we getting close?”

B’Elanna squinted at the mountain range ahead of them. She thought she saw a splash of colour, but she couldn’t be sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. “Do you see that rock wall over there?” she said. “It’s still about a kilometer away.”

“It doesn’t look that far,” Jurot said, following B’Elanna’s pointing finger with her eyes. 

“It’s an illusion,” B’Elanna replied.

“I was telling Ensign Kim about that noise you heard last night, Lieutenant,” Ayala began. “Was it on his watch or mine?”

“Um, his, I think. I’m sure it was nothing,” B’Elanna said quickly.

“Noise?” Jurot sounded intrigued. 

“I think it was just one of the crew,” B’Elanna demurred. 

“What did it sound like?” Jurot pressed.

“Yeah, what did it sound like?” Tom had caught up with them and flashed a charming smile at the pretty ensign.

“Lieutenant Torres heard something last night. We were just trying to figure out what it could be. You didn’t hear anything, did you, Lieutenant?” Jurot smiled back at Tom in a way that made B’Elanna’s eyes narrow with suspicion. 

“I don’t remember hearing anything,” Tom replied innocently. “Of course, it’s hard to hear anything over Harry’s snoring.”

“Hey! I do not snore,” Harry sounded indignant. “B’Elanna, do I snore?”

B’Elanna’s eyes slid to Jurot again. “How would I know?” she said. She fought down the urge to elbow Harry in the ribs. Did he want the whole crew to know their sleeping arrangements? Not that there was any reason to keep them secret. It wasn’t like they were doing anything they shouldn’t be doing—anything that would require privacy. Of course, the couple last night didn’t seem to mind the lack of privacy…

“What did it sound like, Lieutenant?” Tom repeated. His voice sounded innocently curious.

She glared at him. “I’m sure it was just some security people moving around,” she said tightly.

“Well,” Tom replied lazily, crinkling his brow in thought, “if it was during Harry’s pre-dawn shift, it might have been Kes and Neelix. They must have been up and moving long before anyone else in order to get themselves lost so early.” 

B’Elanna snapped her head toward Tom. He looked guileless, but she wasn’t fooled. Was he implying what she thought he was implying? She’d had the same thought herself.

“Or it could have been Chell and Bristow,” he offered. “Harry, wasn’t Ensign Bristow on watch last night?”

B’Elanna stifled a bark of laughter. Just the idea of Chell and Freddy Bristow together… 

“You know, B’Elanna, if you hear anything strange tonight, just give me a shove. I’m a pretty light sleeper,” Tom said. 

B’Elanna watched Jurot’s eyes grow round before she dropped her gaze to her boots. Ayala looked away with a grin. Damn it!

“Not that light. You were both sleeping like babies when I got up for my shift,” Harry said.

Now that was a thought that hadn’t occurred to her. “Just how did you manage that without the computer to wake you, Harry?” She was almost afraid to hear the answer. 

“Oh, Chell came and got me.” 

Harry had just confirmed one of her worst fears. Chell never stopped talking. She was sure the doctor could confirm that Bolians breathed through their ears. They had to. Chell was one of the biggest gossips on the ship, and he would’ve had to be blind not to see her and Tom sleeping wrapped around each other. Everyone would know by the time they got back from testing the water. If they didn’t all know already…

This was Tom’s fault, she decided. Him and his damned reputation. If she’d been snuggled up to Harry for warmth, no one would think anything of it. But no, she’d chosen to twine her body around TomCat Paris… She turned her head and glared at him. His expression betrayed his surprise and confusion, and B’Elanna wondered why he was blushing. Was he actually embarrassed? Impossible!

She shot an arm across Ayala’s chest, and grabbed Tom by the wrist. “Your face!”

Tom raised a questing hand to his forehead. He touched his cheek and nose gingerly, then pulled his hand away to stare at his palm—looking for blood, B’Elanna assumed. “What?” he asked.

“Sunburn,” Ayala stated. “Looks like it’s going to be a bad one.”

“Great,” Tom muttered. “And me without my regenerator.”

Harry whistled. “Oh man, that’s going to hurt.” He shook his head in commiseration.

B’Elanna turned to stare at her young friend, studying his face and hands. “You look okay, Harry.” She stepped in front of Tom and raised a hand to his cheek, brushing her fingertips over the day-old growth of beard. He flinched and took a step back, out of reach. B’Elanna hitched a breath. Her whole hand was buzzing with reaction to that slight touch. Her joints were suddenly aching, and she flexed her fingers to relax them. What the hell was that about? 

She realized the others were staring at her, and she swallowed hard when she heard her own laboured breathing. She backed up a few steps; creating some much-needed distance between Tom and her. His eyes locked with hers, and he looked like he was about to say something. B’Elanna couldn’t stop her hand from reaching up to comb through her hair and pat it into place even as her brain registered the fact that she was self-consciously primping for him.

She dropped her hand to her side. “Let’s just get there,” she said.  Her voice sounded shaky and uncertain to her ears—not the image she wanted to project as leader of this little expedition. She turned on her heel and moved away quickly. She heard Jurot mention the need for a sunhat, and Tom’s laughing reply, then the rustle of clothing. She fought the urge to turn around and see what they were doing. It wasn’t easy.

What had gotten into her? Why was she suddenly responding this way? But it wasn’t sudden, she realized. She’d been watching Tom since the crews had merged, especially since they’d both struck up a friendship with Harry. She’d felt a sisterly need to look out for Harry, and that had included keeping her eye on the obviously more experienced lieutenant assigned to the helm. 

She’d never felt sisterly toward Tom. She’d known him in the Maquis, where he’d been a belligerent, womanizing drunk—to be fair, most of them were—and she’d disliked him on sight. He was not the type of man she wanted Harry to emulate. So she’d kept a mental tally, noting the times when Tom had acted less than honorable in her eyes. Gradually, though, she’d begun to realize that the intervening months had changed him. He was more responsible, more centered, and not nearly as devil-may-care as he tried to project. He’d proven that when he went undercover and routed Seska’s spy—another loss to engineering, she noted wryly.

He wasn’t angry anymore. That was the real difference between the man she’d known then and the man she knew now. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that he had his uniform jacket wrapped around his head, turban style. The sleeves were tied in a loose knot above his forehead, and the cuffs fell almost in his eyes. He reminded her of a hound dog with long black ears: 

Do your ears hang low? Do they wobble too and fro? Can you tie ‘em in a knot? Can you tie ‘em in a bow? …

She turned her head away to hide her grin. 

At times he’d infuriated her, sometimes he’d simply pissed her off, but always there’d been an undercurrent of awareness—a desire that she’d managed to beat down and smother. Until now. It must be all the fresh air, she reasoned. Or the sun. Or maybe the way he held her in his arms all night long. She had to admit to that desire, if only to herself. How many times had she pictured his face as she lay alone in bed at night while she caressed her body? How often had she whispered his name as she slid her fingers between her thighs and imagined it was him stirring her, stimulating her until she cried out? Had it been an accident when his hand brushed her breast this morning? She hoped not.

She knew what she should do. She should seduce him—fuck him and get it over with. Get him out of her system. She knew he’d be willing, if only to experience the novelty of screwing a Klingon. But she also knew it was unfair to Tom to think of him that way—to ignore the man he had become. He didn’t seem interested in an easy lay anymore, and she had to admit that once wouldn’t be enough for her, anyway. She sighed. It wouldn’t do. She could not let herself fall for Tom Paris. 

She felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped. 

“Are you okay?” Harry looked at her intently. His smile was encouraging. “Are you lost?”

“No. No, it’s just over there.” B’Elanna waved a hand to the right, and watched Harry turn his attention to the rock wall she’d indicated, some two hundred meters away. 

“What is that?” he asked, frowning. “It’s pink.”

Tom had joined them, and was squinting past her outstretched hand toward the cliff-face. “Is that a plant? A flower or something?”

“Not exactly,” B’Elanna murmured. “We had to use something bright to mark the spot or we never would have found it again.”

“Is it a uniform?” Tom guessed. His hand brushed her hip as he leaned forward to get a better look at the brightly coloured scrap of cloth fluttering in the breeze. B’Elanna had to fight every instinct not to turn to him, to grab his wrist and pull him against her. 

She heard Ayala chuckle. “Close,” he said. 

B’Elanna shook herself. Get a grip! She thumped Harry on the chest. “Come on, Starfleet, I’ll race you!” She took off over the field, gradually building speed until she was running like all the hounds of hell were at her heels. Maybe they were. It felt good to run again—to feel the wind whipping her hair as she concentrated on keeping her breathing even. She felt free with the sun warm on her face and her feet eating up the distance. It was exhilarating!

She ran right up to the cliff wall, then pushed off, pivoting on her toes so her back rested against the sun-warmed stone. As she gasped for air, she closed her eyes and raised her face to the sun. 

Booted feet slapped against the rocky ground, and B’Elanna opened her eyes to Harry’s flushed face. He was doubled over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. 

“Out of shape, Harry?” she grinned.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted. “I don’t know if that was such a good idea when we don’t have anything to drink. I’m beat now.”

“Well, here you go—water.” She pushed him toward her stream and watched as a dubious expression settled over his features.

“I was expecting something a little more…. more,” he admitted.

“Sorry I couldn’t provide you with a lake,” B’Elanna muttered.

“That’s it?!” The others joined them, and she turned to look at Tom’s disappointed scowl. He appeared less than impressed. 

“I thought you said it was a waterfall.”

“You said it was a waterfall,” B’Elanna shot back. “I just said I’d found water.”

Tom started laughing. “Well, you didn’t lie,” he admitted. “I love what you used as a marker.”

B’Elanna ignored him.

Ayala had dropped his jacket to the ground—he’d been carrying it over his shoulder like a sack—and dug out half a dozen hollowed out gourds. He stood there looking uncertain as to what he should do next.

B’Elanna pushed past Harry and walked the few steps to the little stream of water. Tom had come closer to the rocks and was standing in her way, staring up at the top of the mountain. He had one hand at his forehead, shielding his face, and the other hand against the warm stone for balance. B’Elanna watched as his turban slowly slid off his head and landed with a soft plop on the ground behind him. He didn’t seem to care. 

“I can’t tell where it’s coming from,” Tom said. 

“About five meters up, I think,” she replied. “There’s a crevice in the stone.” 

There was, indeed, a deep vertical crack in the cliff-face, which ended about five meters above the ground and effectively sliced the wall of stone in half. It ran up to the top of the cliff wall, a good hundred meters or more, gradually expanding until it looked like they could fit a body between the two pieces of rock. 

“Oh, yeah…” Harry stepped forward and looked at the smooth stone. “I don’t see too many handholds. I guess there’s no way to climb up, huh?” he asked.

“Not unless you’re packing a spare rope,” B’Elanna answered wryly.

“It would take more than a rope,” Tom replied. “We’d need pitons, carabiners, harnesses, rock shoes.” He shook his head. “It’s so close, I just don’t see a way to get there.”

“What? Would you really need all that stuff? It’s not that far up to the crevice,” Harry said, astonished. 

“Tell me that when you’re sailing backwards off a cliff wall without any protection, Harry.”

“Protection?” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Are we talking climbing, or poker?”

Tom’s chuckle slid along B’Elanna’s spine, sending little sparks of electricity all through her body and warming her down to her toes. She gulped a breath, and slid her hands along the sun-warmed stone, needing to feel the solidity of its pebbled surface.  She searched for a handhold, but the wall was uniform, as if some force had cleanly sliced it from its missing half.

“It feels like it was cut with phaser fire,” she murmured.

“I think we’re standing in a rift valley,” Tom said. He turned and glanced behind them, surveying the flat scrubby grassland they’d just crossed and the mountain range beyond, then let his gaze travel the length of the rock wall. 

“There must have been one hell of an earthquake to cause this kind of tectonic shift,” Harry chimed in.

“Earthquakes, volcanoes…” Tom shook his head. “I wonder how young this place is? Maybe an advanced species hasn’t evolved yet.”

“Or maybe one did evolve, but was wiped out by some sort of seismic catastrophe,” Harry offered.

“Or maybe there’s an advanced civilization a few thousand kilometers from here. We’ll never know if we don’t figure out a way to survive long enough to explore.” B’Elanna snatched up one of the gourds and searched for a dip in the rock to fit it to. She held it to the little stream and cursed as most of the water washed around the cup instead of falling into it. 

Tom raised an eyebrow and slanted a glance at Harry. B’Elanna growled lightly. One excuse, that was all she needed, and she’d belt him. Hard. He had no business looking so good, not after sleeping on the ground. He was unshaven, unwashed, half undressed… 

She let out a frustrated grunt and slammed the gourd against the cliff wall. 

Tom’s hand closed around hers, and took the cup from her. “It won’t hold much water if you break it,” he said quietly. 

He’d stepped up close and curled his arm around her body so he was embracing her from behind. He was standing behind her right shoulder with one hand braced on the cliff wall just past her ear, blocking her exit. B’Elanna could feel his warm breath on her cheek and she shuddered. If she turned around to face him, she was sure her breasts would brush against his chest. Her nipples hardened at the thought.

She wanted to lean into him, to feel his long, solid body against her back. She longed to turn and wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him hard. Would he be shocked? Repulsed? Would he kiss her back? A fantasy began to play out in her mind: her turning in his arms, Tom slamming her against the rock-face and pressing her into the hard stone. He was just as unyielding, and he kissed her fiercely, forcing her mouth open and tangling his tongue with hers…

“B’Elanna?” Tom’s voice had a lilt to it. He was obviously amused by something, but there was a faint trace of worry there, too. “Are you feeling faint?” he whispered into her ear. 

She realized that she’d been leaning against him after all. Her head was angled back and resting on his shoulder, and she was surrounded by the tangy, salty scent of his skin. She gulped a breath. He had no idea, she was sure. He couldn’t know what he did to her just by standing too close. Her head was swimming…

She straightened immediately and shoved him away with a quick slam of her shoulders. “I’m an engineer, Tom. I think I can figure out how to get water into a cup by myself.” 

He took a half step back, leaned a shoulder against the cliff, folded his arms across his chest and watched her. She searched the ground at her feet for a sliver of shale and used it to slice away some of the thick rind on the hollowed-out melon. She carefully placed it against the rock, and grunted in triumph when water trickled into her makeshift cup.

After a long moment Tom reached for the stick that was shoved into the ground at his feet. He plucked at the fluttering scrap of hot pink material that was tied to the branch, and eyed it critically. B’Elanna could see the grin playing at his mouth, and winced. 

“It’s Kaplan’s,” she muttered. 

“Really?” Tom drawled. “I wasn’t even going to ask. Though you do seem to be filling that cup nicely…” 

He smiled innocently at her, and B’Elanna felt her cheeks burn at his implication. She snatched the brassier out of his hands, then walked toward Jurot and thrust the cup of water at her. “Here. Is it safe to drink?”

The ensign took the gourd and peered inside it for a moment before looking at B’Elanna. “Without a tricorder…” she trailed off, shrugging. “Really, Lieutenant Torres, I… I’m a botanist.” Her tone was apologetic.

“So, plants need water, don’t they?” 

Jurot’s mouth flapped a few times, then finally some sound came out. “It’s really hard to tell just with my eyes. It looks clear, but it could be filled with microscopic contaminants.”

B’Elanna sighed heavily, then raised the cup to her lips and drained it.

“B’Elanna!” Tom and Harry sounded like a chorus. Tom’s hand came out of nowhere and slapped the gourd out of her fingers, knocking it to the ground. 

“Careful,” B’Elanna snipped, “you’ll break it.”

Tom grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he yelled.

“Testing the water,” she shot back. She pulled out of his grip and turned back to the others. “It’s a little salty, and it smells a bit sulfurous, but I’m still breathing. Fill the cups and stop them, and we’ll head back to the camp. I want to know what the captain has to say.”

As she turned to retrieve the gourd from the ground where it had fallen, she shoved Kaplan’s bra into her waistband. She straightened and faced Tom’s glower. “What?” 

“That was—”

“Stupid. I know, thank you. You’ve mentioned that already. You’ve also mentioned the parasites and the contaminants, so if it’s alright with you, I think I’ll skip the lecture.”

“Your redundant stomachs can’t save you from everything, B’Elanna.” He lowered his voice and moved fractionally closer to her. “We have to be careful on this planet. A scratch could become infected and kill someone. Without a tricorder and hyposprays, we have no way to treat an infection or illness.” 

He reached for her, but stopped short of touching her. His voice softened, “We need that brilliant brain of yours intact if we have any hope of surviving on this rock.” 

His smile was conciliatory, and she felt her anger melt away. Damn it. “I promise that from now on I’ll be more careful, okay?”

“Okay,” Tom replied grudgingly. “But if you start to feel strange at all, let me know. I mean that. I’m not just your friend, I’m your friendly neighborhood medic.”

B’Elanna watched Tom retrieve a gourd from the pile and walk the few steps to her waterfall. Medic, she mused. Until they’d been stranded on the planet, she’d forgotten that the captain had assigned him medic’s duties as well as the helm. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d like to play doctor sometime…

@@@@@ 

“Are you coming to bed or are you going to stay mad at me forever?”

B’Elanna sat stiffly, her back against a rock. Her head may have been angled away from Tom’s prone figure, but she’d been sneaking surreptitious glances at him for the last ten minutes—since he’d sighed heavily and laid down in their makeshift bed. He was on his back with one arm flung over his eyes, but she could tell he wasn’t sleeping even before he spoke. The way he was laying on the ground with such exaggerated relaxation had tipped her off immediately.

Harry, that traitor, had gone to ‘bed’ shortly after Tom, and B’Elanna shivered in the evening chill. Her indignation was definitely not keeping her warm tonight. She snorted loudly and buried her face in her knees, suppressing another shiver. She puffed a warm breath into the open collar of her jacket, and silently cursed the idiot who designed a coat that didn’t fasten all the way to the neck. Tom didn’t seem cold at all, of course, and she remembered the heat his body gave off last night. She’d been almost toasty with his long arms wrapped around her…

Maybe she’d forgive him after all.

She turned her head and looked at him, stretched out so enticingly in their ‘nest’. They had spent a few minutes that afternoon pulling the long, soft grass that grew in abundance at the base of the foothills, and used it to line their sleeping area. Harry had tried it out immediately and pronounced it comfortable. Tom’s satisfied sounding grunt seemed to agree with him. 

Then they’d been called to Dinner Rock for their evening meal and briefing…

She glared at Tom again and was startled to catch him watching her. Damn. He’d probably seen her shiver. 

“I said I was sorry, B’Elanna. What more do you want?” he asked quietly. 

B’Elanna narrowed her eyes and stared at him. Truthfully, she’d stopped being angry about it over an hour ago, but pride had kept her from giving in. He was in the wrong, and though he had apologized, she didn’t really believe that he was sincere. 

Their meal had come wrapped in large, flat leaves. From their blackened exterior, she’d guessed they had been baked in the coals of a fire pit. She’d been expecting a meal of eggs and roots, the same as yesterday. What she got, however, was a leaf full of large, fat grub-worms and mixed grasses. Neelix claimed it was high in protein and vitamins, and she’d countered that the rocks were full of minerals, but she wasn’t about to eat them, either. 

Tom, of course, had to open his mouth. “Down the hatch, B’Elanna! Just close your eyes and think of Mom’s home cooking!”

She hadn’t been sure that he meant it that way; he may have been taking a dig at Harry and his mother’s famous apple pie. But of course everyone else at the table had immediately thought of qagh, and B’Elanna had become…embarrassed. And furious at Tom. 

Then Neelix, always a student of exotic cuisine, had felt compelled to explain the difference between qagh—live worms in sauce—and qagh tlhIq—the leftover, and consequently, dead worms served reheated as a sort of stew. This lead to comments about Klingon food and outrageous dishes in general. She wondered if Neelix’ sudden expertise on Klingon cuisine meant that he’d been planning a ‘Klingon Night’ in the mess hall.  Maybe she should be grateful to Seska after all…

Once Janeway reined them in, much to B’Elanna’s relief, everyone forgot about dinner and got down to business. They had no way of knowing if or when that volcano would erupt, and the captain had led a discussion on the pros and cons of moving the camp. It was decided they would move out in the morning. Hopefully, they would find greener pastures over the mountain range. B’Elanna didn’t think they were in any shape to travel halfway across the continent, especially since they couldn’t guarantee finding water on the other side, and she’d said as much. The captain hadn’t disagreed with her, but she hadn’t changed her mind either. They’d been ordered to gather whatever they could find that would hold water, and a detail was filling eggshells and hollowed out melons right now. 

It was a desperate act, B’Elanna thought. And one the captain would likely regret when the crew started to die of thirst. The fact that Tom agreed with Janeway and thought that wondering aimlessly in the desert was preferable to staying put had made B’Elanna mad at him all over again. 

Of course, all that anger wasn’t helping her now. The sun had set and the planet’s moons were beginning to rise over the mountain peak. The wind had died down, but the warmth had disappeared with the sun, and she was freezing. It was time to give a little…

“You know I don’t like Klingon food,” she said accusingly.

Tom’s lips twitched. He turned toward her and held out his hand. “Come to bed,” he repeated softly, “it’s late.”

“Come on, Mom, forgive him,” Harry murmured. “You know how I hate it when you two fight.” 

“Uh oh, we woke Junior,” Tom quipped.

“And it took forever to get him to go to sleep,” B’Elanna said. Her lips twitched in a smile.

Tom grinned and motioned to her to join him on the soft hay. “Come on,” he pleaded, “I really think I’ve been punished enough.”

Damn the man, did he have to look so appealing? She was trying to stay mad at him. 

B’Elanna sighed, and stood. Her limbs felt stiff and cold, and she wondered just who’d been punished, after all. “That’s debatable,” she said. “I think you enjoyed yourself.” She lay down and Tom immediately wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against him, spooning her close to his body. He rested his cheek against her hair with a contented sigh.

She felt him relax immediately. His body sagged against hers, and the arm that he’d draped over her waist felt heavy on her ribs. Tom brought his free hand up to cup the top of her head, smoothing her hair from his nose as he did so. 

“You know, I don’t know how I’m going to go back to sleeping alone when we’re back on the ship. I could get used to this,” he murmured quietly. 

Was that his not so subtle way of telling her that he didn’t have a lover on board Voyager? At least not currently. Actually, she should have figured that out. If she’d been his girlfriend, she’d have been furious that he was keeping another woman warm at night. The thought of sharing Tom’s bed—a real bed in his quarters—made her tingle, and she felt a now-familiar warmth spread through her to pool in her belly. 

She shifted slightly, and Tom hugged her tighter and whispered in her ear, “Stop squirming or I’ll think you’re making a pass at me.”

She turned her head and caught him watching her again. She was glad that the sun had gone down, and he couldn’t see the blush that burned her cheeks. “What, right here in front of Junior?” Her voice was low and breathy.

“Don’ mine me,” Harry mumbled thickly. “M’m almos ‘sleep anyway.”

B’Elanna settled her cheek on her hand. She could see Harry’s profile clearly outlined in the moonlight, and beyond him, the rocky mountain range in the distance. The mountain looked like a sleeping giant, and she could clearly make out the ‘old man’s’ forehead, hooked nose and chin. He—or rather, she—had a barrel chest and twin peaks that did a fair impersonation of breasts. 

She grinned at that. Harry’s silhouette didn’t have breasts, so the comparison wasn’t a very good one, after all. 

She felt Tom’s hand on her hair again, smoothing it along her scalp and tucking it behind her ear. “I still think you’d look great in that bra,” he said quietly, referring to Kaplan’s completely non-regulation, lacy bit of foolishness that they’d used this morning to mark the stream. 

“It’s too small,” she whispered back.

“I know,” Tom answered, with a sexy rumble. “I could tell.”

She couldn’t think of a reply to that, so she just closed her eyes and breathed him in. She relaxed against him again and let out a long, slow breath. She could definitely get used to this, she decided. Just as she felt the tug of sleep, she thought she felt something else—the soft caress of Tom’s kiss on her hair. Of course, she was probably already dreaming…

@@@ 

She was stalking him. 

He’d led her halfway through Voyager already, but she knew she would eventually run him to ground. They were in her territory now, deep in the bowels of deck eleven. The pulse of the warp core thrummed beneath her feet, and she paused to test the air with her nose. She darted her tongue along her lips, then turned her head sharply to the right as she picked up his scent. 

He was heading toward main engineering.

He’d been injured, and she held the small scrap of black cloth to her mouth and tasted the few drops of blood that clung to it. An immediate surge of energy washed through her—a thrumming along her nerve endings. She felt an almost indescribable joy. Soon, soon she would be able to claim her mate.

The doors opened soundlessly. The room was dark, lit only by the glow of the blue warp plasma as it danced in the core. Shadows flickered on the walls and consoles, ghostly images moving to her engine’s heartbeat. She studied them, looking for one that matched Tom’s silhouette. Her people manned their stations, seemingly unaware of her entrance, and she prowled among them searching for her prey. His scent was strongest here in engineering, heady and male and sharp with his fear. She was almost on top of him. 

She lived for this—the pounding of the blood in her veins, the heightening of her senses. She felt alive for the first time in years! She stopped and listened, sifting through the usual noises of engineering, her brain cataloguing familiar sounds and discarding them. Eventually, she isolated the irregular rhythm of his breathing—quick, shallow, ragged—and her excitement ratcheted up another notch. He was behind her.

She moved to the left and glided a hand along a workstation as she circled around Nicoletti, seemingly checking some readings. She slowly moved toward him. She had him cornered, he couldn’t get away, and she was going to take her time closing in. She could hear the quick rasp of his breath, the staccato click of his boot heels on the deck plates as he tried to back up to hide in the shadows. There wasn’t anywhere for him to go unless he could sprout wings and fly up to the next deck. Victory—and Tom’s strong, lean body—would soon be in her grasp.

Her lips thinned in a feral smile. She came up behind him and trailed a hand up his spine. Her fingertips tingled at the contact with his smoothly muscled back. He spun and stared at her, and his gaze shifted beyond her shoulder to the open area of engineering and freedom. He would have to get past her first…

B’Elanna crouched and raised her arms, prepared for battle. She wasn’t about to let him get away. He adopted a similar posture. He feigned right, and she dodged left. She dove for him, circling her arms around his chest and kicking his feet out from under him. She hung on as he fell then landed on top of him, knocking the breath from them both. Grinning wildly, she rose up, ready to finally claim him, but he easily tossed her off. He landed on her, pinning her to the deck with his larger frame. She could feel the heat of his body all along her own, his skin scorching hers right through her uniform. 

He pulled her arms over her head and held her wrists tightly with one hand. The other took a slow tour of her face, skimming over her ridges, her cheekbone, her jaw. With the tip of his finger he traced the line where her shirt collar met her throat. He smiled lazily at her.

She roared in frustration, convulsing under him, but he merely pressed her harder into the deckplates, and captured her jaw with his hand. He turned her head to the side and moved his lips along her throat, his moist, heated breath rasping loudly in her ear. He paused, his open mouth resting on the point of her jaw. Then slowly, slowly he traced a tiny circle on her skin with the tip of his tongue.

She growled her desire and thrust her hips against his, reveling in his steeling erection pressing against her belly. She wanted to touch him, but he had her pinned to the floor, and he wasn’t loosening his grip on her wrists. 

Tom moved his mouth along the line of her cheekbone, trailing his lips over her flushed skin. He kissed her almost chastely on the corner of her mouth. “Mine,” he murmured. “You’re mine.” Then he bit her hard on the jaw, drawing blood and marking her as his mate. 

The blood roared in her veins. She saw darkness, then a blinding light, and she pulled her hands free to capture his face and hold him as she sank her teeth into his cheek, her bite matching his.  Suddenly, their clothing was gone, and all she could feel was his heated skin scorching her own and his hands gliding along her body, molding her to him. 

She pressed against his warm body, rocking her groin into his, and felt his hard penis glide along her belly and thighs as he slid downward to claim a nipple with his mouth. A low moan escaped her throat, and she clutched at his head and held him. The silky heat of his mouth on her taut flesh made her gasp, but she wanted more. 

“Seal it, Tom,” she whispered. “Complete your claim.”

He rose up and kissed her hard, grinding his mouth onto hers and bloodying her lip. She felt her heart soar as he parted her thighs and slid into her, taking her in one smooth, quick thrust. 

She roared her approval as pleasure rocketed through her. She dragged her nails down his back to cup his buttocks, encouraging him to ride her harder. He pressed her into the hard ground, and she hung on desperately as he thrust into her. His hot breath rasped in her ear, stirring the hair lying along her neck. Moaning his name, she bucked against him and wound her legs around his waist. She needed to be closer, needed to feel his skin on hers. 

His hand tightened on her breast, and he pulled her against his long body. She felt the hard ridge of his erection press into her bottom, and wondered when he had pulled out of her. When had he shifted to curl his body behind her? 

She was panting, her breath coming in short gasps, and her hands grasped convulsively at empty air. She opened her eyes and saw darkness, then stars, and the outline of the jagged hills beyond the camp. A cool night breeze hit her flushed skin, and she started awake. She became conscious of the fact that Tom’s arm was around her, holding her tightly against his chest. The sudden realization that her hips were rocking against his groin hit her, and she froze. My god! She’d been dreaming, and her sleeping body had betrayed her. She felt a rush of hot embarrassment. What the hell should she do? How could she talk her way out of this exquisitely embarrassing situation?

It was too much to hope that Tom would be asleep…

He was erect against her, his long, hard length pressed against her back sending a tingle straight up her spine. He held her so tightly they could have been fused together. His breathing was ragged in her ear, and she realized then that his hand cupped her breast, his finger and thumb lightly pinching her erect nipple through the layers of her uniform. That contact was sending little sparks of pleasure straight to the small of her back, and she fought the urge to grind against him. Unintentionally, she shifted, and his penis jumped as her bottom brushed his erection. His hand tightened spasmodically on her breast, and desire slammed through her so hard that her stomach muscles clenched. 

His scent surrounded her, heady and male. Shivers rippled through her as his mouth moved against her hair. She closed her eyes and tried to steady her quickening heartbeat, but it was no use. She was drowning in him, in the scent of him. Her fingertips tingled with the need to feel his warm, bare skin, and she closed her eyes and gave up the fight. She squeezed his thigh, then caressed his leg as she moved her hand around to cup his firm ass. She held him tightly, and pressed backward into his chest molding her upper body to his. He responded by squeezing her breast and rubbing tight circles around her already hard nipple with his thumb.

He moaned her name, his voice in her ear low and desperate. Was he seeking her assent, or giving his own? His mouth caressed the back of her neck, and she closed her eyes and let her head fall back, allowing him access to the sensitive flesh of her throat. Slowly, tenderly, he kissed the pulse point at her throat, then nibbled his way up to her jaw. 

B’Elanna reveled in the feel of his hot breath on her skin. His heat melted her bones. It had been so long; too long since anyone had touched her this way. What was a dream moments ago was rapidly becoming reality, and she had absolutely no desire to put a stop to it. They’d been building to this all day, and she couldn’t deny her desire for this man anymore. She didn’t want to deny it.

She snaked a hand between them to lightly graze his penis through the thin fabric of his uniform slacks. She needed to feel his hot, silky flesh, needed to tear off his clothing and explore his strong, lean body— 

A low cough echoed off the rocks and B’Elanna froze, listening. Tom stilled as well, and the hand that had begun massaging her breast slipped down to her waist. She closed her eyes, and dragged in a ragged breath that did nothing to calm her rapidly pounding heart. 

Tom rested his chin on her shoulder; his warm, moist exhalations on her throat felt more intimate than her hand still sandwiched between them, frozen on his erection. After a moment of quiet, she reached for the fastener on his slacks and opened it, then tugged the fabric far enough apart to free him. He groaned softly and bucked against her hand.
His penis was hot and smooth and very erect, plastered to his belly with the force of his arousal. She caressed the silky-soft skin with her fingertips, in awe of him, of the change that she could evoke in his body. 

Tom kissed her, and his mouth was soft and moist on her neck. He trailed his hand across her waist as he searched for the closure on her pants. His fingers slid inside her waistband and glided along her belly, playing with the lacy edge of her panties. Her hips jerked toward his hand. Too slow, he was being far too slow. Any moment now someone could happen upon them. They could be caught before they had the chance to even begin.

She released him long enough to tug her slacks and panties down to her knees, and heard Tom’s quick intake of breath. Pale moonlight glinted off their bodies, and her skin shone silver where the light kissed it. Tom caressed her belly, slowly tracing the bright contrast and deep shadows etched on her skin. 

She shoved her uniform coat up over her ribs, and his other hand left her hair to slide under her clothing. His fingers found their prize, and he began tugging gently on her nipple, drawing a long low moan from the pit of her stomach. He dipped down to explore the sensitive folds of skin between her thighs, and she gasped as his thumb brushed against her clitoris. Pleasure washed over her in a warm, wet tide. She felt boneless, molten. On fire. His mouth moved over her throat up toward her ear and she gasped as a flood of moisture wet her thighs. The stubble on his chin tickled the back of her neck. She shivered.

“Are you cold?” he whispered, tugging on her hips, bringing her bottom flush against his belly. 

“No,” she breathed. Her skin was chilled from the cool night air, but the sensation of his hot, hard penis against the small of her back made her burn. When he slipped one long finger inside her, her breath caught in her throat. She bucked against his hand, her body responding to him the same way it had in her dream. It felt so good, and it had been so long since she’d been with anyone. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this contact, how much she’d desired this man. 

Moonlight threw strong shadows against the rock face, enhancing the dream-like quality of the moment. Her nerves were strung taut from the risk of getting caught, and it made her want him inside her all the more. She couldn’t wait any longer. She didn’t dare. 

She shifted in his arms, reaching behind her for his erection and guiding it along her bottom and between her thighs. Tom stilled a moment, then gripped her tight before he pushed into her. She bit her lip to keep a moan from escaping—she tingled to the soles of her feet. He felt so much better than she had ever imagined. 

He thrust harder into her, trying to establish a rhythm. He loosened his tight grip on her hip to caress the slight curve of her belly. She dug her nails into his wrist, guiding his hand to the damp curls between her legs. His hands anchored her body to his as he filled her, and she hung onto him as the stars seemed to spin in the night sky. Their grass bed had scattered, and the rough ground bit into her hip. A cool breeze raised goose flesh on her exposed skin.

He released her breast and wound his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back as he nipped her earlobe. B’Elanna angled her head up, and Tom moved his mouth along her jaw and down the long slender column of her throat. He breathed her name against her heated skin, and nudged down the collar of her shirt, kissing and nibbling on as much of her skin as he could reach. 

She pulled his hand to her mouth and grazed her teeth along his wrist, tasting him, inhaling him, fighting the urge to mark him. Tom wound his fingers with hers and held her hand tightly as she scattered kisses over his knuckles. His breathing had become more ragged, and his warm, moist breath on the back of her neck was sending shivers down her spine. 

His legs wound around hers, and he spread his hand across her belly as he thrust into her, holding her and bracing her at the same time. She met each thrust of his hips with equal, desperate force. She was close, so close. Her skin was slick with sweat, her nipples hard and aching for Tom’s attention. She reached for his hand and pulled it to her breast, then snaked her own hand between her legs. She knew Tom was watching her by his harsh intake of breath and the way his fingers tightened on her breast. She stirred her sensitive nub, rubbing and pinching, and Tom matched her actions with her nipple.

She felt her body tighten, and she gasped as her orgasm barreled over her. She felt like she was flying up to the stars, like she was coming apart. Tom thrust into her hard, losing his rhythm as he pounded his hips against her bottom, then he moaned against her shoulder as he followed her over the edge. His body clenched around hers. He groaned his release as his teeth sank into her shoulder and bit hard. She started at the flash of pain and pleasure that zipped like an electric shock across her skin to center in her nipples. 

He still held her tightly, and she drifted in a hazy stupor. Her world had shrunk to the two of them—the hard confining band of his arm around her ribs, his hand in hers with their fingers interlaced, his scent surrounding her, and the fierce shocks of pleasure that still rippled through her body. She turned her head and rubbed her cheek against his, enjoying the rasp of his beard on her heated skin. He kissed her jaw, her chin, then reached to softly kiss the corner of her mouth. He released her hand and slipped his arm out from under her neck, then slid out of her, and she was momentarily confused by his actions. Why was he in such a hurry to let her go?

A cool breeze blew across her bare skin as he began to tug her trousers up her legs, and she suddenly realized where they were. Anyone could come upon them and it wouldn’t be too difficult to figure out what they’d just done. She looked away and quickly pulled her underwear over her hips, then fastened her slacks. She was still shaking, and her hands felt weak. Was she out of her mind? Or a closet exhibitionist? She almost wanted to laugh.

She could tell that he was dressing, too, by his fumbled movements behind her. His elbows knocked against her back, and she inched away from him, giving him room.  She felt cold all over.

Tom’s arms came around her again, his hands gently sliding up her arms to cup her shoulders. He rolled her onto her back, and loomed above her for a moment, just staring at her. A smile spread across his mouth, lighting his whole face, before he lowered his head and kissed her. She responded hesitantly, but when he deepened the kiss, she parted her lips and raised a hand to wind her fingers in his hair.

The sound of gravel crunching underfoot made her freeze. Tom heard it too, his eyes opening wide in surprise. He glanced past her, then dropped his head to bury his nose in her shoulder. B’Elanna shut her eyes and lay absolutely still, and concentrated on keeping her breathing slow and even. It wasn’t easy.

“Tom?” Harry’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Tom, wake up.” 

B’Elanna felt Tom jiggle against her as Harry shook his shoulder. He lifted his head, then slowly drew his hand from her waist. 

 “Shhh… don’t wake B’Elanna,” Tom said quietly as he got to his feet.

She felt Harry stretch out beside her, and heard his heartfelt sigh as he relaxed into the hay mattress. “Ayala’s waiting for you at the underpass. Don’t forget your pointy stick,” Harry said. 

“See you in three hours,” Tom replied quietly.

She listened to him walk away, her ears straining to catch his footfalls on the rocky ground. She became aware that her shoulder was throbbing, and she slowly moved her hand up to cup Tom’s bite. Did he realize what he’d done? He’d bitten her right through her uniform, so hard that she was sure she would bruise. It wasn’t the same as a mating bite, not really. He hadn’t broken the skin, and the area he’d chosen was hidden from sight, but still… 

Did he understand the implication of that kind of bite to a Klingon?

She felt fluttery and sick to her stomach all at once. She opened her eyes and stared at the stars overhead—the ones she was certain she had touched a few minutes ago. Tom really was an exceptional pilot, she thought, and grinned. 

They had to talk, she realized. In three hours, they would discuss what had just happened between them. She wouldn’t hold him to it, of course. But… She closed her eyes and hugged herself tightly. It had been so long, what would she even do with a boyfriend? Was it wise to start a relationship with Tom—with anyone—under the scrutiny of the crew? What if something went wrong? What if they argued and he wanted to leave her? Where would he go? Where would either of them go? 

She didn’t think she could stand watching him with another woman…

This was getting her nowhere. She rolled over, presenting her back to Harry, and reached out to the spot on the ground that Tom had just occupied. She imagined that the straw was still warm from his body. She closed her eyes and willed her mind to quiet, and eventually, she drifted back to sleep.

@@@@@@ 

“I want you to stay together. Stay in your groups. We don’t want anyone to go missing.” 

Janeway paced the perimeter of her gathered crew as they stood clustered in small groups spread out over the rift valley at the base of B’Elanna’s ‘waterfall’. Some of them carried spears, and most had water jugs fashioned out of the long, cucumber-like melons that B’Elanna and Harry had found growing near the camp on the first day of their exile. They’d spent yesterday afternoon hollowing out the melons with a stick, then whittling the discarded ends into a stopper with the sharp fragments of shale that were so plentiful around the base of the mountain. Then a team had carried their makeshift water jugs to the valley, and filled and stockpiled them during the night. The rest of the crew had made their way there at daybreak.

Most of them were busy figuring out a way to comfortably carry their meager possessions. B’Elanna had tied two of the melons to her hip with a length of the same vine they’d grown on. It made a colourful, if slightly less than comfortable, belt, and they clacked together as she walked. She had to admit that she felt a little sexy in her get-up, and her mind traveled back to an ancient two-D photograph she’d once seen of an old earth dancer who’d worn a skirt made of bananas… Of course, B’Elanna intended to keep her shirt on for her little trek through the wilderness.

She could feel Tom’s eyes on her. He’d been staring at her all morning, and his attention was a tangible thing. She would be sure he was right beside her—at her elbow—but he was actually twenty meters away with his team. They hadn’t had an opportunity to be alone, but he’d kept appearing wherever she was, just outside her comfort zone. He was hovering. She knew they had to talk, and she wanted to discuss last night with him, to get it out in the open. Just not quite this open. 

She snuck another glance in his direction, and found he was talking to Harry. They were laughing, relaxed, and she felt a twinge of envy. Harry glanced at her and smiled, and she watched as Tom turned to look, as well. He nodded slightly and raised an eyebrow, then patted Harry on the shoulder and strode toward her.

B’Elanna immediately felt a wash of nervousness. She looked at her boots, and scuffed at the scrubby grass at her feet. 

“Hey.” He sounded tentative.

B’Elanna glanced up. He was squinting at the mountain range in the distance, and the sun glinted off his hair, turning it to liquid gold. He turned his head and caught her eyes, and she was sure his had never looked so blue before. “H—hi,” she stuttered. 

Tom folded his arms across his chest, then dropped them to his sides and clasped his hands behind his back. He was just as nervous as she was, she realized. She was disappointed. 

“I got my…” he hesitated. “I just wanted you to know you don’t have to worry. The Doc made sure I got my hypo whether I needed it or not.” It came out in a rush.

B’Elanna’s forehead furrowed for a moment as she tried to figure out what he meant by that. 

“I mean, what you said the other night, about extra bellies to feed…” he trailed off, looking distinctly uncomfortable. 

Then it dawned on her—he didn’t want her to worry needlessly about an unplanned pregnancy. Of course, he couldn’t know that her own birth control hypo was up to date as well. Apparently the doctor was adamant about that with everyone. Or it could have been the captain who didn’t want anyone getting ideas now that Ensign Wildman’s baby was born. She wouldn’t want a chain-reaction in the crew.

Or maybe Tom wanted to make it clear to her that he wasn’t looking for a committed relationship. Marriage and babies weren’t in the cards. Well, that was fine with her, wasn’t it? She’d had sex with him, not professed her undying love. She hadn’t even hinted that she was looking for something permanent with him… it annoyed her that he was so quick to dispel any illusions she might be harboring, though. 

“Look,” she said, her voice cool, “I didn’t expect—”

He cut her off. “B’Elanna, we need to talk about what happened.”

“I don’t think so,” she countered. “I think I know what you’re going to say.”

He grabbed her arm and held her when she was about to walk away. “I don’t think you do,” he said quietly.

“Is there a problem, Lieutenants?” Janeway had stopped behind Tom and was eyeing the two of them curiously. Her expression was clear—whatever the problem was, solve it or shelve it. They had a job to do.

“No, ma’am,” they chorused. Tom had let go of B’Elanna’s arm when Janeway spoke but he stood beside her refusing to look away, even as he answered the captain. 

“Good. B’Elanna, walk with me.” Janeway strode away, drawing B’Elanna behind her. She was grateful for the reprieve. 

The captain continued to scan her crew, checking their readiness for the coming trek across the rugged terrain. “Is there anything you need to tell me, B’Elanna?” she asked quietly.

Not likely! “No, Captain. Everything’s fine.”

“Good. I wanted to commend you for finding that water. I think everyone is thankful for that sensitive Klingon nose of yours.” Janeway smiled, and patted her arm. 

B’Elanna smiled back, enjoying the praise from her captain. “I guess my mother’s genes come in handy occasionally,” she admitted. “But as Tom likes to remind me, we might not know if the water’s safe or not until someone falls over with a fever.”

“Well, let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” Janeway said. “You know, if Starfleet outfitted its troops with helmets, we could have boiled away any nasty surprises.”

“Oh, don’t say that!” B’Elanna said quickly. “If he had anything resembling a cooking pot, Neelix would have fed us grub-worm stew for breakfast!”

“With a local coffee-substitute chaser!” the captain laughed. 

B’Elanna shuddered. “That’s it! We’ll just have to figure out a way to get Voyager back. We can’t run the risk of Neelix discovering the local cuisine!”

“I’m sure Chakotay has reached that Talaxian convoy, B’Elanna. He’ll come back for us. After all, he knows Seska. He knows what she’s capable of, doesn’t he? If anyone can take Voyager from her, he can.”

B’Elanna felt instantly uneasy. Was this the real reason Janeway had singled her out? To pump her for information about Chakotay and Seska’s relationship? It seemed like a waste of time, given their present situation. Or maybe it was personal curiosity, not a command question, that made her ask about Chakotay’s former lover. 

“I don’t think any of us really knew Seska at all,” B’Elanna hedged. She laughed lightly. “We certainly didn’t know she was a Cardassian spy! If we had, we could have fed her all sorts of false information, but…” she trailed off into silence. Had Chakotay known? Had that been the reason why he’d broken off the affair a few months before they’d been pulled into the Delta Quadrant? It was possible, and certainly she wouldn’t have expected him to share that information with her if he had known.

“Captain!” Ensign Molina came running to them, pointing toward their former campsite. B’Elanna turned and watched in shock as billows of gray smoke puffed into the sky, and blotted out the mountain peaks not five kilometers away.

“The volcano,” Janeway whispered in amazement. 

An anxious buzz began among the crew as, to a man, they turned to watch the sky darken. There was a sudden gust of hot air, and B’Elanna felt a curl of fear in her belly. She didn’t get frightened often, but the thought of trying to outrun a volcanic eruption made her freeze for a moment in sheer panic. 

“Alright! Let’s move out. We walk, we do not run, and we stay in our groups. No one gets left behind, is that clear?” The captain walked briskly to the front of the jagged line of personnel, and headed across the tundra with her shoulders straight, not looking back. 

B’Elanna snuck one more glance at the smoking mountains, and shuddered. “Yes, ma’am,” she said quietly. Her eyes searched out her team clustered in the shade of the rock wall, and she spared a quick glance around the open field to locate Tom. Their eyes met, and he nodded once. She felt a little swell of courage, and nodded back. She’d be fine. They’d all be fine.

And Chakotay would come back for them.

@@@ 

“Tom told me to tell you that he’s not sorry, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

B’Elanna’s head jerked up at Harry’s words. She shot out a hand and grabbed him by the arm, then dragged him a few meters away from the rest of her group. “What did he tell you?” she demanded. Her eyes flashed fire at him.

Harry looked a little confused. “That he’s not sorry and he’d do it—”

“Did he tell you what… happened?” 

“Not precisely.” Harry sighed and a look of impatience clouded his features. “You’re not still mad about that grub thing, are you? You know he didn’t mean it that way. He was just being Tom.”

Just being Tom. That’s what she was afraid of. And she’d made it all too easy for him. She’d made the first move by practically seducing him, and he’d just been the tomcat his reputation made him out to be. 

Harry laughed. “What? You’ve never called him that to his face, have you?” He was grinning wide, and there was a look of dawning comprehension on his face. B’Elanna cringed. Had she spoken aloud? Damn!

“You know, B’Elanna, I’m not so sure that label fits. He hasn’t gone out with anyone but us for months, and I’ve never actually seen him spray anywhere on Voyager, so…”

Harry trailed off, grinning, and B’Elanna seized the opportunity to deflect the conversation. “Spray?” 

“You know. When male cats mark their territory. They spray, they urinate, so other males know that the area or the thing is theirs, and won’t come around.” He smiled at her. “Never had a cat, huh?”

“My mother didn’t see the point of pets,” she murmured.

“Neither did mine, but a friend of mine, when I was a kid, had this huge orange tom. Musta weighted fifteen kilos—I’m not exaggerating. It had this really long fur that just got everywhere, and once when we were supposed to perform a concerto for Parent’s Night, we got covered…”

Spray… B’Elanna tuned out Harry’s rambling story and pondered his words. Her hand slid up to the still throbbing bite on her shoulder. Tom had marked her, all right, but not openly. It wasn’t as if any other man could see it and get the idea that she was his territory. 

She pursed her lips and turned her head to slant a glance at Tom, who was openly watching them. She looked away. She supposed she should be grateful he hadn’t peed on her. Of course, some people were into that… 

“My mom was furious. She never raised her voice, but I could tell.” Harry grinned at her.

“Yeah. Look, can you tell Tom—” she began.

“Uh-uh,” Harry cut her off emphatically. “If you have something you want to say to him, you tell him yourself. If you two are going to have another argument, I’m not getting in the middle of it this time.”

“Harry, I—” 

He threw up his hands. “No way. You’re on your own this time, I mean it.” 

He headed back to his group, and B’Elanna sighed. She was on her own, but she didn’t want to be, not anymore. Her gaze flitted past Samantha Wildman, who was handing her baby to Freddy Bristow. Sam had been adamant about not needing any help with Naomi, but it looked like she’d finally given in to common sense. 

So what was her own common sense telling her? That sleeping on the ground with Tom had been more restful—more comfortable—than having her soft ‘fleet bed to herself. That his arms were warmer than any blanket, and that their hurried, passionate lovemaking last night had made her feel more alive than she had in years!

She felt a sudden urge to claim him! What would he do, she wondered, if she walked over to him and kissed him? Tossed him to the ground and marked him the way her Klingon blood was screaming at her to do. He’d kiss her back, that’s what he would do! Warmth pooled in her belly, and she felt her breasts swell. She took a fortifying breath, steeled herself, and turned toward him. He was walking with Marie Kaplan, his hand on the small of her back. They were laughing, and she watched Tom lean down to say something in her ear. Marie nodded her head and smiled wide at the comment.

Jealousy roared over her, and she clenched her hands into fists.  That ass! Did he think she couldn’t see him? That everyone couldn’t see? And he’d likely have the nerve to try to bunk with her again tonight. Unless Kaplan was obliging.

B’Elanna muttered an oath, and turned her head. She stomped to the head of her group, putting some much needed distance between herself and Tom Paris. “Idiot,” she whispered fiercely. But she wasn’t sure if she was cursing him, or herself.

@@@

The day hadn’t warmed, and a constant cloud cover kept B’Elanna feeling cold and miserable. The air was damp and heavy, and the scrubby brush had given way to a more rocky terrain. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought they’d been going uphill, slowly gaining elevation. Maybe if they kept walking for another few days they’d reach the top of the cliff. There was a steady cool breeze blowing from the east. Hugging herself, she suppressed a shiver. 

She’d been trudging near the front of the crew as they’d spread out over the tundra, walking in an uneven formation along Tom’s rift valley. She’d been afraid Tom would make an appearance and say something inane—god forbid he should come to the point!—but he’d left her alone. Maybe Harry had warned him off. Or maybe it was her posture: arms crossed, back stiff, her body screaming ‘Stay the hell away from me!’ No one had tried to talk to her since Harry’s attempt over an hour ago. 

She felt like a total fool. Tom hadn’t made any promises to her, true, but she hadn’t expected him to move on so quickly, either. Of course, there was always the chance that he was just talking to Kaplan, not trying to sweet-talk her. B’Elanna sighed. This was ridiculous! No wonder she hadn’t really dated at the Academy! Was she really so jealous and insecure that her man couldn’t even speak with another woman without her thinking he was cheating on her? Did she just naturally expect her man to cheat on her? Of course, Tom wasn’t her man…

A large shadow joined her own on the ground, and her heart slammed against her ribs. She looked up to see Ayala, and felt a surge of disappointment. Damn.

“Can I have a word?” He dipped his head as he spoke, his quiet voice going no further than the two of them. 

“Don’t say it, Mike. I’m starving and I might have to kill you and roast you on a spit if you mention food.”

His mouth lifted in a smile, but he shook his head. “I’m worried about Sam Wildman.”

B’Elanna glanced over her shoulder. The ensign had the baby again, and was cradling her to her chest.

“Why?”

“She’s been walking for two hours straight. She must be tired. She’s going to have to stop and rest soon, if only to see to the baby.” 

Mike had left two sons behind in the Alpha Quadrant, B’Elanna remembered. She’d never been privy to the circumstances that had led to his divorce, or the reason why he’d joined the Maquis. But she knew that he’d keenly missed his children then, and still did now. Of course he’d be concerned about Naomi. 

She nodded and touched his arm. “I’ll go see how she’s doing.”

“Thanks, B’Elanna,” he said, sincerity lending a warmth to his voice. 

B’Elanna dropped back to walk beside Ensign Wildman, and a frown of worry creased her forehead when she saw how drawn the other woman looked. “Do you need to stop?”

“No, it’s alright, Lieutenant. I can do this while I’m walking.” Sam had opened her uniform jacket and had lifted a hidden slit in her turtleneck shirt. She was cradling her baby to her chest, and Naomi was suckling happily at a breast. B’Elanna was fascinated.

“Don’t you need to sit, or … something? Isn’t it awkward?”

The older woman glanced up and smiled. “It was at first, but now I’m used to it. If I sat down every time I needed to nurse her, I’d never get anything done. And it doesn’t effect the milk flow.” She shrugged and looked back at her daughter. 

Naomi’s eyes were closed, and she appeared to be sleeping. Her mouth was working lazily, and her little hand was fisted under her chin. B’Elanna wondered where her other arm had gone, but restrained herself from asking. The baby was pale and tiny, and she looked incredibly fragile to B’Elanna. 

She’d never taken much of an interest in babies, not even as a child, and the only one she remembered clearly had been Klingon, not half human. Her mother had taken her to the homeworld for an extended visit when she was a young girl. Her aunt had had a newborn, her cousin Largh, and she remembered thinking the baby’s head was enormous! She’d known where babies came from—and how they came out—and she was astounded by the fact that her aunt could still walk after passing those rock-hard ridges through her vagina. 

But Naomi—forehead spikes aside—looked soft, malleable. Almost boneless. The baby scrunched up her face suddenly and jerked, then settled once again to nursing as Sam shushed her. B’Elanna was tempted to ask Wildman what she was doing about the diaper dilemma, but a sudden flash of inspiration kept her mouth shut. She didn’t want the ensign to think she was volunteering her undershirt to the cause. She wondered briefly if Ayala was wearing his. 

The ground shifted suddenly, and B’Elanna caught Wildman by the arm. She didn’t stumble, but the baby lost her nipple and began to cry loudly in indignation. The crew paused and looked behind them at the still smoking volcano. B’Elanna couldn’t make out any spikes of lava or other debris, but she knew that only the most spectacular volcanic eruptions discharged magma into the air like an explosion. The ground could open at their feet in a pool of molten lava and super-heated steam at any moment. And if that happened, penned in by the towering cliffs on both sides and the volcano itself behind them, they would have nowhere to run to avoid the eruption.

There was a sudden blast of cold wind, and B’Elanna held onto Wildman as she shielded the baby from the dust and debris that flew through the air. They staggered back a few steps, and B’Elanna realized that the gust was coming from in front of them, so it couldn’t be the volcano that was causing it. She wondered if a storm front was moving in, and she squinted into the wind, shielding her eyes as she looked up at the swirling clouds. 

Voyager. She was landing.

@@@@@ 

She was working at one of the auxiliary stations, replacing row after row of singed isolinear chips. Chakotay had sabotaged the phasers in his battle with Cullah, and the resultant chain reaction from the overload had burned out power couplings all over the ship. They’d been working steadily for fourteen hours rerouting power and securing backup systems in an effort to avoid cascade failure once the warp engines came back online. They were limping at one-quarter impulse, but B’Elanna was determined to notch it up to one-half before she went to bed. If only Voyager would co-operate. The ship was a mess. And her own determination was on the losing end of a battle with her exhaustion. 

It looked like the Kazon had done their best to demolish Voyager from the inside. They’d done a hell of a lot of damage. They hadn’t just sabotaged key systems; they’d randomly blasted consoles and control panels as they abandoned the ship. It made making repairs enormously complicated and time consuming. She’d dismissed one exhausted shift after eight hours, and was about to send a second to bed—an order she was thinking of following herself. She hadn’t been to her quarters yet, and was still wearing the same dirty uniform that she’d worn on the planet. No one had said anything, but she suspected that she was getting a little ripe. 

She stood and stretched, easing the kinks from her back and neck. Dropping her shoulders and letting her head fall backward, she lifted a hand to her aching neck and consciously relaxed. She rolled her head right-to-left, left-to-right and heard a popping sound from the back of her neck. The tension abated slightly, and she closed her eyes for a moment and drew a deep breath. Soon. She needed her bed soon or she wouldn’t be of any use to anyone down here. With a heartfelt sigh, she bent forward to set the last chip in place and slid the tray back into position before she snapped the cover-panel flush with the rest of the outer casing. Her eyes drifted shut, and she rested her forehead against the cool durasteel of the console’s housing. Maybe a little rest was a good idea after all. Just a quick nap and a change of clothes, then she’d get right back to work.

She felt the pull of sleep, and shook herself awake. A quick glance around engineering revealed that everyone was busy at their own tasks, and paying no attention to their half-comatose chief. Finally, after hours of work, the overtaxed life support system had cleared the air of smoke, but she could still smell faint traces of burnt conduits and charred flesh. The smell had almost gagged her when she’d first walked into engineering that morning. They’d reset ship’s time to match the planet, and though it was barely past 2200, she still felt like she’d worked through the night. Eight hours spent in a nice, soft ‘fleet bed sounded like a good idea. 

Damn the engines. Right now the only impulse she had was for her bed.

As she packed up her kit, she rubbed her shoulder absently trying to ease the throbbing in the muscle. Maybe she should have let the doctor heal that bruise after all, she thought. He had insisted on doing a quick medical check of everyone on board. B’Elanna had put him off for hours, but after his third page and a veiled threat to call Tuvok for ‘reinforcements’, she’d relented and spared him ten minutes for a scan. 

Tom had been in sickbay when she’d arrived, and her heart had immediately leapt to her throat when she’d assumed he’d been injured. He’d looked tired and drawn, and she realized he must have been pulling a double shift—time on the smashed bridge and in the overtaxed sickbay. He’d looked up when she’d entered and their eyes had met, but she’d glanced away quickly and all but run to the doctor’s side. The EMH hadn’t found any signs of parasites or poisons in her system—she’d known that water was safe to drink!—but he’d looked up astounded as he passed the tricorder over her pelvis. 

“You’ve had sexual intercourse!” He’d sounded almost accusing.

B’Elanna’s eyes flew to Tom. His back was to her, and he didn’t appear to have heard, thank god. “Is that against regulations?” she’d snapped back.

“No but, well, it was unexpected, that’s all. I don’t generally expect to find seminal fluid in your reproductive tract. It’s a good thing I insisted on administering your booster after all, isn’t it, Lieutenant?” He’d sounded smug. 

“Yeah,” she muttered her reply, “doctor knows best.”

“Well, it appears that in this instance I do. Engaging in the act of reproduction appears to be the only entertainment the crew had on that planet. I’ve never seen so many post-coital patients at the same time. If it weren’t for my sage advice, the ship would be overrun with babies a year from now.” 

Babies. B’Elanna wondered how many of them would have blue eyes and dirty blond hair… She gave herself a mental shake and glanced around engineering. Ah-hah! Just the man she needed.

“Vorik!” she snapped. The Vulcan had been on duty as long as she had, but he still looked rested and refreshed. She was certain that she must look like hell. He’d demurred when she’d dismissed Alpha shift, saying that his Vulcan physiology allowed him to stay alert and productive longer than most humanoids. By that point she didn’t have the fight left in her to argue, so she’d let him stay on. 

“You called me, Lieutenant?”

Damn it if he didn’t look like he’d just stepped out of a sonic shower. B’Elanna squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and drew in a slow, calming breath. She was tired. “Lieutenant Carey’s shift starts in an hour. You’re in charge until then. I’m going to bed.”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” he answered quietly. “May I suggest you stop by the mess hall and get something to eat before you go to your quarters? 

“Maybe in the morning,” she muttered. She handed him a padd, then turned on her heel and left before anything else came up that needed her attention. She just didn’t feel up to the social interaction the mess hall required. A replicated snack in her quarters would have to do instead. 

The corridor was dim—they’d put the ship in gray mode to conserve power while her teams were making repairs—but she welcomed the shadows after the glare of the engine room. She was in the lift on her way to deck nine before she remembered that Janeway had suspended personal replicator use until optimal power was restored. “Damn,” she cursed quietly as her stomachs growled. “Deck two.”

The computer chirped its acknowledgement. “No, belay that,” she said suddenly. What if Tom were there? Worse, what if Neelix were there, primed to improve her morale? “Deck nine,” she sighed.

The lift stopped, reversed, and B’Elanna laid her forehead on the cool plasti-steel wall. She didn’t open her eyes ‘til she heard the lift doors open and she had to force her tired muscles to walk.

She nodded a greeting to a crewman she passed—there always seemed to someone prowling the corridors no matter what the time—and hesitantly entered her code on the keypad outside her door. She’d heard stories that the Kazon had ransacked the crew quarters looting or destroying personal property, apparently for the sheer joy of it. Sam Wildman’s quarters had been particularly hard hit. No doubt Seska had taken many of Naomi’s baby things for her own child. So far, the Wildmans had been the only exception to the personal-use ban on the replicators.

She stepped inside expecting her cabin to be in turmoil. Nothing had been touched. Her spare uniform jacket was still in a crumpled heap on the edge of her sofa. A towel was wadded into a ball in the middle of her unmade bed. Even the stack of padds was still on her desk where she’d left them two, no, three days ago. 

It was eerie. And unlike Seska. She was manipulative. Vindictive. She would have done something…

B’Elanna removed her combadge and placed it on the dining table. She stripped off her filthy uniform jacket and shoved it immediately into the ‘fresher. As an afterthought, she bent and gathered the pieces of her spare uniform and put them in there too. If Carey and his crew finished repairs—if nothing else went wrong—the ‘fresher would come on sometime while she was sleeping and she would have clean clothes in the morning. The thought was bliss.

An idea struck her, and she caught her breath hoping she was wrong. She almost ran to her closet and searched quickly through her clothes. Nothing. She’d been positive she’d find everything she owned torn to shreds. Not that it would have made that much difference; she wasn’t exactly a clotheshorse. But nothing had been touched. Even her tall suede boots—a holdover from their Maquis days that Seska had always admired—were still in their compartment, unmolested. 

She bit her lip as a hysterical giggle threatened to bubble up and burst from her. She was paranoid. Maybe that was Seska’s revenge—to keep her paranoid. Or maybe Seska had simply been too busy trying to placate Cullah to bother going through B’Elanna’s few possessions. That traitorous bitch—at least she got what she deserved. 

B’Elanna frowned, and wrapped her arms around her middle and hugged tight. She decided not to think about Seska right now. Or Lon Suder. They were both left for another time…

She walked back into her living area and settled on the couch with her feet tucked under her, and wrapped herself in her patterned throw. She knew that she should move—shower, eat, sleep—but she was just too comfortable… She smiled. Those were Harry’s three basics, weren’t they? A shower, a bed and a meal. She hoped that he was tucked soundly into bed at the moment, his belly full and dreams of Libby floating through his head. 

The thought made her own stomach growl again but she pushed her hunger aside. She was far too comfortable on the couch with her blanket wrapped around her. Not as comfortable as she’d been last night with Tom’s arms around her… She felt herself flush with heat and cringed. They had to sort it out. Had to talk. They were both officers on the ship; they had to work together, sit in staff meetings together, discuss helm evaluations. And, for Harry’s sake, they had to play together, too. She grinned again, wondering what Harry’s opinion would be if he knew how they’d played together last night.

B’Elanna let out a roar of frustration and threw the blanket away from her. Her booted feet hit the floor with a thump. She did not need to think about that right now! She needed sleep, and the only way to get it was to eat something and go to bed. 

She strode briskly from her quarters, narrowly avoiding a collision with a tired looking Freddy Bristow, and slid into the lift just as the doors were closing. “Deck two,” she muttered, pacing the tiny compartment as it crawled the seven decks to get to the mess. 

She burst into the room and strode immediately to the tiny kitchen. The fruit bowls on the counter which were always full-to-brimming were empty, and Neelix was nowhere in sight.  She crossed to the cooling unit and pulled open the door, then stood there undecided, staring at the bare shelves. A part of her brain knew that she was wasting power standing there with the door open, but she felt momentarily stunned. The cupboard was truly bare. Had the Kazon eaten everything in sight?

“Sorry, there’s not much to offer you right now.” Neelix popped up from behind a shelving unit and B’Elanna almost jumped out of her skin. 

“Neelix!” She released a breath and laid a hand over her heart. “I didn’t think you were here.”

“I’ve been trying to get this place back into shape. The Kazon can be quite destructive when they set their minds to it. Look at this,” he held aloft a broken kitchen implement of indistinguishable origin. Its long metal handle had been flattened, and the thin wires that sprang from its base had been twisted backward, making it resemble some odd alien flower. “A perfectly good whisk, ruined! How am I supposed to make a decent omelet now, that’s what I’d like to know?”

A quick smile pulled at B’Elanna’s mouth and she bit her lip to keep it at bay. She’d never been a fan of his omelets anyway. Cullah had her eternal thanks for the destruction of the Dreaded Whisk. 

Obviously, she was getting punchy. “What do you have left to eat around here?” she asked, hoping to get his mind off his broken Instrument of Torture. 

“Just rations, I’m afraid.” He reached into a locker and produced a small foil packet and handed it to her. He kept them locked up? As if someone would actually try to steal them?! 

“Oatmeal with almonds and figs.” Neelix read the label. His grasp of Standard had always impressed her. “Oh! That sounds delicious! What’s a fig?”

“I have no idea,” B’Elanna murmured. She took the packet and eyed it critically. She was pretty sure she wasn’t going to like it, whatever it was.

“There’s just water to drink for now.”

“That’s fine, Neelix.” 

“Oh, look! They left the Talosian soasa! I can make you some tea. Good for your joints.”

A pungent stench reached her nose as Neelix pulled the lid off a container of dark purple leaves. “No! Thank you.” B’Elanna retreated a few steps. “Water is fine, really.”

“If you’re sure…” He stared at her steadily and smiled. 

“What?” She didn’t trust that smile. It looked like he had something on his mind that he was itching to share. Something she wasn’t sure she’d want to discuss.

“Oh, it’s just interesting. How it took being stranded on that planet for the crew to pull together and become a real family.”

She’d had a similar thought, herself. “Yeah, funny isn’t it? Nothing like the threat of imminent death to bring people together.” Don’t say it, she thought. Don’t even hint. She risked a glance at him, but he still wore that enigmatic smile.

“Some people seem to be more together than others…”

Her forehead creased in a frown. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were alone before she advanced on him, pinning him with a stare of her own. “Look! I don’t know what you think you saw down there—”

“It’s what I saw up here.” He rocked on his heels, almost bursting with the need to speak.

Whew! She smiled, relieved. B’Elanna would never call herself a gossip, but… “What did you see?”

Neelix grinned again and leaned toward her, conspiratorially. “Ensign Kaplan and Lieutenant Ayala!” He was almost bouncing with glee. “Don’t they make a terrific couple?”

Mike Ayala and Marie Kaplan. B’Elanna almost laughed in relief. So Tom had just been talking to Kaplan, after all. Likely teasing her about Mike’s interest. Or that damned bright pink bra. She closed her eyes and released a breath; she felt almost weak.

“B’Elanna, are you alright?” 

“Yeah. Thanks, Neelix.” She patted the ration packet and smiled. “Guess I’m just hungry.”

She left Neelix happily cataloguing his spice cupboard to sit at her usual table. She eyed the silver packet warily and curled her lip. No guts, no figgy oatmeal. 

The ration packet made a hissing sound as she tore it open, and the grayish-beige power inside hydrated immediately upon contact with the oxygen in the air. Now it was a grayish-beige sludge. With brown chunks… yummy. Neelix couldn’t have done better himself, she decided. In fact, that would be the perfect job for him when they finally reached the Alpha Quadrant. Forget about ambassador, he could be the new head chef at Starfleet. He could merge his extensive knowledge of space travel and foreign food, with his newfound interest in all things Starfleet, and come up with a whole new line of ‘Fleet Cuisine’. 

Now, that thought was unsettling! With a grimace, she pushed the offensive packet away, no longer hungry. A headache gnawed behind her brow ridge, and she fisted her hands and pressed the heels against her eyes. 

“Hey, Sleepyhead. Time to wake up and go to bed.”

B’Elanna started and raised her head as Chakotay sat down opposite her. She smiled tiredly at her old friend. “I could say the same thing to you,” she observed. He looked drawn, weary.

“I’ve slept,” he replied simply.

B’Elanna creased her brow. “How long ago?” 

“Within the last twelve hours. You?” He lifted an eyebrow and she had to acquiesce. 

“Okay, you’ve talked me into it. Sleep first, then food.”

Chakotay pulled the foil packet closer and peered inside. “Swedish meatballs?” he guessed.

B’Elanna shook her head and grinned. “Oatmeal with figs, whatever they are.” 

“Could have fooled me. Lieutenant, may I suggest that you make the replicators your first priority.”

“Already noted, sir,” she teased. “They’ve been bumped to the head of the list.”

Chakotay sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. B’Elanna reached out and laid a hand on his arm. “I have a few minutes if you want to talk.”

He shook his head, but he was already speaking. “I’ve just come up from sickbay. He wasn’t my son.”

“What?!” B’Elanna was stunned.

“Seska’s child. He wasn’t my son. The doctor scanned him—no human DNA. He wasn’t mine.”

B’Elanna didn’t know quite what to say. Somehow ‘I’m sorry’ didn’t seem to fit the bill. She just stared at him mutely instead.

Chakotay slammed a fist onto the tabletop. “It was all for nothing, don’t you understand? I searched my heart; I spoke with my spirit guide… my grandfather. And in the end it was all for nothing!”

She covered his fist with her hands, offering what little comfort she could. 

“I was ready to embrace him as my son. Instead, she just used him to trick me—to take Voyager from me.”

“We got her back, everything’s fine—”

“Tell that to Hogan and Suder!” Chakotay closed his eyes and sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to take it out on you. I just came in to see if my book was here.” He motioned behind her. 

Sure enough, covering one of the long tables by the viewport was a hodgepodge of items: jewelry, cloth bound books, padds, clothing. Neelix was setting a purple teddy bear on the table and bestowed a tired smile on them as they joined him. “I know it doesn’t belong to Naomi. Do you think it might be Tuvok’s?” he grinned.

The corner of B’Elanna’s mouth lifted in a small smile. “Where did it all come from?” she asked.

“Everywhere,” Neelix answered. “People have been bringing in bits and pieces all day. What about you, B’Elanna? Are you missing anything?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said. She scanned the items methodically, her eyes sweeping from one side of the table to the other. 

“If you’d let me know what you’re looking for, I might be able to tell you if I’ve seen it,” Neelix offered. 

“I’m not sure, myself,” she answered simply. 

“Ah, hah!” Chakotay smiled triumphantly as he plucked a small leather bound book from the tabletop. He turned to leave and leaned toward B’Elanna. “I’m rescinding that order.”

She peered at him quizzically. 

“Sleep first, then replicators. I want you in bed in ten minutes, Lieutenant.” He looked at her for a moment, then saluted her with his book and headed toward the door. As he came level with the end of the table he stopped short and picked up a pair of gray boots. He turned them over to check the size, then shook his head as he tucked them under his arm. “Didn’t even know they were missing,” he said. 

“Good night, Commander,” Neelix called after him. “Sleep tight!”

Chakotay waved the book once more before the closing mess doors swallowed him. 

Neelix leaned conspiratorially toward B’Elanna. “What does that mean, anyway, ‘sleep tight’?”

“Beats me,” she shrugged. “You’ll have to ask Tom.” Tom. Her breath hitched. She swept the table’s contents with her eyes and stopped when she saw a long, slim, polished piece of wood lying along the center of the table. 

“That belongs to Tom,” she said, reaching for the pool cue. 

Suddenly she wanted to see him. She knew she wasn’t up to the talk—it could wait—but he was her friend, and she had to make sure that he was all right. She wanted to see with her own eyes that Seska hadn’t destroyed a piece of him, too. She spun on her heel and headed for the exit.

@@@ 

By the time she reached deck four, her heart was pounding. She paused outside Tom’s door and just stood there, uncertain. Maybe he wouldn’t want to see her. Maybe he was sleeping. Maybe he was on the bridge. She had no idea what time it was. Before she could consciously register that she was doing it, she reached out and tapped the door chime. 

“Come!” Tom answered immediately.

His quarters were a shambles. It was obvious that he’d tried to straighten out the mess and had given up. His desk was tidy, padds stacked neatly, and the couch cushions were in place but it appeared that everything else he owned had been tossed into a corner of the living room. 

He came out of his bedroom wearing only his long, blue ‘fleet-issue bathrobe, and B’Elanna was treated to a view of his muscular calves and bare feet, and the red-gold hairs that curled crisply at the V-neck of his robe. Desire curled sharp and sweet in her belly. She just stood and stared at him. 

“Hi.” Tom smiled widely. He started toward her, then stopped when she didn’t move. 

He waved an arm around the room, his mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. “Seska had the decorators in while we were gone. Don’t you love what they’ve done with the place?”

A polite smile flitted across B’Elanna’s mouth, then slid away. She swallowed hard. He looked as tired as she felt. He’d shaved, but had dark circles under his eyes, and she could see his exhaustion etched in his face. “You look better,” she said at last. At Tom’s confused frown, she elaborated. “The sunburn.”

“Oh, yeah. A couple of passes with the regenerator and I was good as new. You know, the doc was so busy, he made me do it myself.” His eyes bored into her, seeming to see below her surface calm. “You ran away from me in sickbay,” he said quietly. It was a statement, not an accusation. 

Her eyes raked his face, taking in his drawn expression. “I—I found this in the mess hall. It’s yours, isn’t it?” She shoved the pool cue toward him, and Tom crossed the room and wrapped his fingers around it. His hand rested scant inches above hers. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly. He watched her for a moment, then turned and leaned the cue against the wall. “I was just about to have a shower.” His voice sounded welcoming, like he was extending an invitation. 

B’Elanna swallowed hard. She knew that she could use one. Three days was about her limit for going without. She was sorely tempted, but there was no way she could be naked with Tom until she’d cleaned up a bit. She didn’t know what had possessed her to even come into his quarters looking the way she did.

She backed toward the door, one hand raised in supplication. “I’ll go then. Um, I’ll see you tomorrow maybe. We really should talk.” 

“B’Elanna, wait!”

She was out the door in a heartbeat and all but ran around the bend in the corridor. Tom’s call echoed in her ears as she stopped to lean against the wall to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding—the blood rushing in her ears so loud she thought it might deafen her. “Coward.” The word hung in the air; she was surprised to realize that it had come from her own lips. It was true. She was being a coward. She wanted him; she had for a long time. And he’d shown her how much he wanted her. He’d tried, just now, to show her, but she’d run away. Klingon honour demanded that she face him. 

She closed her eyes. Was it honour, or the throbbing between her thighs?

She retraced her steps and quickly keyed in her override code. The room was empty, and the door to the bathroom was shut, but she could hear the sonic shower going. Quickly, before she could talk herself out of it, she stripped and dropped her clothing to the floor. She tapped the bathroom door release and walked inside. 

Tom was standing with his back to her, his exhaustion evidenced in his posture. His forearms were braced against the shower wall, and he’d pillowed his head in his cupped hands. The waves of the sonic shower washed over him, dancing and rippling on his skin. He seemed to phase before her eyes. 

He hadn’t heard her enter, and she took a moment to admire the long line of his back and legs. He was lean, but well-muscled, and the ass that she fondly remembered stroking last night—was it only last night?—was high and firm. 

She needed to touch him.

B’Elanna swallowed a knot of trepidation and took a purposeful step forward. Then another and another until she reached out and brushed her fingers over the bunched muscles on his back. Tom turned, startled, and his mouth hung open in surprise as he stared at her. His eyes darted to her breasts and waist and lower, before jerking back to her face. Finally, a grin split his mouth and he raised a hand to cup her jaw and draw his thumb along her cheekbone. “I didn’t think you got my hint,” he said softly.

“Well, I wasn’t sure. It could have been a dismissal.”

Tom shook his head. “Never,” he said softly.

He dropped his hand to her waist and his long fingers curled around her hip as he drew her under the sonic waves. B’Elanna instantly felt the grime and sweat of the last three days start to dissolve off her body. Closing her eyes, she lifted her chin, reveling in the thousands of pulsing ‘fingers’ as they washed her clean. Ohh, this felt good.

Tom’s hand tightened on her waist, and she sucked a breath as his thumb brushed her skin. A little jolt of pleasure shot to her belly, warming her, making her feel liquid and boneless. She swayed toward him, angling her head to the side, and heard Tom gasp as her left shoulder was exposed. 

“Did I do that?” He sounded disbelieving. Pained. He raised a finger to the dark bruise on her collarbone and traced it lightly. 

“It’s alright. It doesn’t hurt,” she lied.

Tom looked in her eyes and frowned. “The doc didn’t heal you?”

“I told him not to bother,” she said quietly. 

A tender expression softened Tom’s features. He leaned forward and kissed her shoulder, laving the painful bruise with his tongue. He turned his attention to her shoulder, and she gasped as hot kisses trailed along her collarbone. Her hips swayed toward him as the desire that she’d kept banked and dormant suddenly sprang to life. She turned her head and brushed her lips along his jaw, nudging his chin up until he met her lips with his own. The kiss started off soft and sweet, but rapidly became desperate, hungry. He pulled her closer, molding her body to his, and ran a hand down her spine to cup one round cheek of her buttocks. His other hand twined in her hair and held her head as he ravaged her mouth. 

B’Elanna pressed into him, trying to get closer. She wasn’t nearly close enough! All the pent up frustration and worry that had preyed on her mind since morning came boiling to the surface when he touched her, and she was suddenly ravenous for him. His penis had jerked to life when he’d turned and first saw her, and now she could feel it lengthen and harden against her belly, proof of his desire. The sheer intimacy of the moment almost overwhelmed her.

She slid her hands over Tom’s chest and around his neck, cupping his face and holding him even as she pulled away to study him. His eyes were half-closed and his cheeks flushed pink. His full lips were parted, and he was panting for air. 

He stared at her mutely for a moment then his mouth lifted in a grin that promised devilry. She grinned back, and they dove at each other. B’Elanna moved her hips, grinding her belly against Tom’s quickening erection. He moaned and clutched at her, holding her to him. His hand found her breast, kneading it almost painfully and she pressed into him, loving the rough contact. His hands were hot, scorching her skin, and an overwhelming sense of urgency swept through her. She dug her fingers into his shoulders as she raised a leg and wound it around his hips. She would have climbed him if she could. 

He slid his hands under her bottom and lifted her, pulling her tight against his belly. She took his cue and wrapped her legs around his waist, and her swollen clitoris rubbed against the fine line of golden hair that led a path to his groin. The contact only served to heighten her feeling of urgency, not ease it. ‘Now!’ a voice in her head demanded. ‘Now now now now.’ She planted furious kisses along his throat and jaw and cheek, wondering if he would take her right there against the shower wall. The Klingon in her thrilled at the thought. 

Tom took the few steps to the bathroom counter and set her down, then lifted his hands to frame her face and kiss her again. His kisses were hypnotic, drugging, and she bent her knees and pulled his body closer as her hands fisted on his shoulders. 

He broke from her just long enough to say, “Computer, end sonic shower.” When B’Elanna raised an eyebrow, he murmured his reply against her mouth. “We don’t want to waste power, do we?”

“No.” Her answer was equally breathy. She snaked a hand down his belly to grasp his penis and stroke him firmly. Tom groaned and stole another kiss. She angled her hips and positioned him at her opening, eager to feel him fill her again. A quick slide forward was enough to take the head of his penis inside her body. Tom’s hands gripped her hips, and they both gasped as he pushed slowly into her. 

It was better than before. Skin against heated skin. B’Elanna’s eyes closed as her head fell forward onto Tom’s shoulder. He was warm and solid, and she clung to him, flattening her breasts against his chest. She could never be close enough to him unless they merged into one being. His hand splayed across her spine as his fingertips played along the slight ridges that tapered from the middle of her back to her tailbone. She shuddered and bucked as a jolt of pleasure zipped through her body. No one had touched her there before, not like that, and she had no idea that her body would have that reaction to a simple caress. Pulling him closer still, she angled her hips upward and thrust her pelvis against his groin in an open invitation. 

He started to move then. The first long, slow stroke stealing her breath. She lifted her head and kissed him hungrily. One hand moved to the longish curl of hair that fell over his forehead, and her fingers threaded through his hair. She luxuriated in the feel of him—warm skin stretched over smooth muscle, crisp, rough chest hair that tickled her breasts. She curled her bare feet around his bottom, the arches of her feet sitting snugly on each cheek, and urged him to sink deeper into her willing body. Pleasure spread through her in waves as he responded. She heard a small, desperate sound, and realized that it came from her own throat. 

Tom murmured soft words against her temple as he held her. His lips brushed her hair, her ear, and she shivered when he dragged his mouth across the ridges on her forehead. She buried her nose in his throat, inhaling him, imprinting his scent in her memory. He rose up on his toes and snaked an arm around her buttocks to hold her securely. His fingers clutched her hip to keep her from being knocked into the wall at her back as he pounded into her. She matched his thrusts with the arch of her hips, and dragged her mouth across his; their breath mingled in warm, moist gasps. 

She felt a spiraling sensation, like she was being pulled up to space, and she clutched at him and cried out as waves of molten fire swept through her. She felt him shudder, and he stilled as his own orgasm hit him. Her eyes closed, and she dropped her head to his warm, smooth shoulder and held him as he strained in her arms. 

She rested; content to feel the solid strength of his embrace. Eventually, her pulse slowed and she shifted slightly. Her bottom stuck to the hard countertop and she had to peel her thighs off the shiny surface to ease a cramp in one leg. She wanted to laugh at the silliness of the situation. The bed was only ten metres away. 

Tom kissed her neck and whispered, “I promised myself that the next time we’d take it slower.” He chuckled. His warm breath sent another shiver of reaction down her spine. 

B’Elanna raised her head and arched an eyebrow. “Next time? You were pretty sure of yourself, weren’t you?”

“Well, I was counting on using my charm to seduce you once we got Voyager back together,” he murmured, dragging his lips along the sensitive skin under her ear. 
“I didn’t think I’d see you again until the staff meeting tomorrow morning.” 

“Would you rather I left?” she asked. Her voice held a teasing lilt. “I mean, if you had it all planned out, I’d hate to—”

“No! Nope. I think you’ll find I’m prepared for anything.”

“Anything. Really?” She arched an eyebrow and grinned at him. 

“Yeah,” Tom agreed, “anything you can dish out.” 

That inner Klingon sat up and growled again. “You think so, do you?” She teased. Another warm lick of desire danced in her belly and she tightened her legs against the small of his back so he wouldn’t slide out of her. 

Tom lifted a stray lock of hair off her cheek, and traced her lower lip with a fingertip. “I was going to wake you, you know, when you started moaning in your sleep last night.” He kissed her lightly and his eyes twinkled with mischief. “I thought you were having a nightmare. But when you started moving I wanted to wake you for another reason entirely.”

Her dream rushed back to her and she wondered what it would be like to stalk him through Voyager, to make love to him on the cold deckplates of engineering. “And what were you doing awake in the middle of the night anyway?” she asked archly. She felt playful. Happy. 

“Oh, I thought that was obvious. I was copping a feel before I had to go on guard duty.” He raised a hand to her breast and grinned as he ran his thumb lightly over her softening nipple. It hardened again, and he kissed her one more time before easing out of her. “Just what were you dreaming about?” he asked.

Suddenly emboldened, she thrust her hips toward him and grinned back. “Take me to bed and I’ll show you,” she said. 

A little smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I’d like that,” he said. His husky voice was pitched low. But instead of moving away, he just stood there, grinning at her. His hand had dropped to her thigh and he absently stroked the point of her hip with a long index finger. 

She felt suddenly uncomfortable. The smile slid from her face. “What is it?” she asked uneasily.

He shook his head and gathered her close, gently lifting her off the counter. Her bottom stuck, and she winced as her flesh was pulled slightly before the counter gave up its hold on her tender skin. Tom tucked his nose into her shoulder and breathed, then sighed as he set her down. It tickled.

“I missed you,” he said softly.

“I didn’t go anywhere.” She was confused by his admission.

He pulled away, and stared intently at her. “You’ve been in engineering all day and half the night. I was starting to wonder if you were hiding in there.” His eyes searched hers, but he didn’t even blink when she frowned at him.

“I was working,” she stressed. “Between the two of them, Chakotay and Cullah practically tore the ship apart. There are still days of work left. Probably weeks worth… What?”

Tom was grinning at her, and she had to crane her neck to look him in the eye. 

“I just missed you,” he said simply.

“Well, you’ve got me now.” She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. “What are you planning to do with me?” Her voice grew low. Sultry.

She watched Tom’s pupils dilate, and his lips twitched with a flicker of a smile. He tightened his embrace and dropped his mouth to her ear. 

“I thought I’d take you to my bed and caress you all over. Kiss every centimeter of your gorgeous body. And we’ll take it very slowly this time. I’ve been thinking about you all day. About the things I want to do with you…” 

Tom lowered his mouth to hers. His tongue flicked along her bottom lip, and he placed tiny, moist kisses at the edge of her mouth teasing her until her lips parted with longing. Finally, he kissed her fully again. They were both out of breath when he raised his head. “Come to bed, B’Elanna,” he said, his voice husky.

At the moment, she’d follow him anywhere. Stark naked and grinning. The bathroom door slid open, and she shivered as the cooler air hit her skin. Tom turned and raised an eyebrow. 

“Cold?” he asked. 

She shivered convulsively and raised her hands to cup her upper arms and rub them briskly. “Maybe a little,” she answered, as she pressed against his warm body.

He stepped into the bathroom and was back a moment later, holding his robe. He wrapped it around her and hugged her hard, lifting her off her feet. He growled suggestively into her ear, then nipped her earlobe. “I can warm you up.” He dumped her onto the bed, then leaned down and kissed her lingeringly. 

B’Elanna stretched and arched into him. “Mmmm… that sounds nice. What did you have in mind?”

Tom nuzzled the fluffy cotton robe, and pulled it away from her throat with his teeth. “Oh, a little companionship.” He drew out the word, and waggled his eyebrows at her.

“What kind of companionship, exactly?” she asked, grinning.

“Well, not Vulcan chess.” Tom stole another kiss. “And not a game of Pareses Squares with Harry. I was thinking of something a little more…intimate.”

“That sounds very nice,” she sighed as she wrapped her arms around Tom’s shoulders. 

B’Elanna was just about to wonder aloud about who Harry would be sleeping with tonight if they’d remained on the planet—she knew that there was no way she and Tom would have given up their privacy and bunked with him themselves—when her stomachs growled loudly.

Tom raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Hungry?”

“I missed dinner,” she explained sheepishly.

“You didn’t miss much, trust me.” His smile was rueful, then his eyes suddenly went wide and his mouth pursed into an ‘O’.

“What?” B’Elanna asked, curiosity momentarily overcoming her embarrassment.

Tom levered himself up. “I wonder if it’s still there?” 

“What’s still there?” B’Elanna said, sitting up as well. She pushed her arms through the sleeves of the robe and belted it around her waist. Tom didn’t reply as he headed, butt naked, toward his closet. It was a very nice butt, she decided. 

She could hear him rummaging around, opening and closing drawers and muttering to himself. “What are you looking for?” she called.

“It’s a surprise,” he answered. “One of your three basics.”

She could hear the laughter in his voice, and she frowned, trying to figure out his cryptic comment.

“Aha! They didn’t find it! Close your eyes.” 

Huh? “Feeling suddenly shy, Paris?” she asked. 

His muffled voice held a thread of impatient excitement. “C’mon, B’Elanna, close your eyes.”

She felt silly, but she did it anyway. She heard a shuffling, then the bed dipped as he dove onto it and burrowed under the covers. She fell back against him, and laughed as he shoved her upright.

“Open,” he said simply. 

She did, and found herself staring straight at a mass of pale golden hairs that decorated his chest. She followed the path of fuzz over his ribs to where it thinned to a fine line at his navel, then was lost in the blankets. She studied the navel in question as he sat beside her with his hands behind his back, a picture of barely restrained excitement. Eventually she dragged her eyes away from the tantalizing view of his washboard stomach, to look up at the goofy grin on his face.

“What are you hiding back there?” she asked, suddenly suspicious.

“Do you remember on the planet when we were talking with Harry about the basics for survival? Food, water and shelter?” He sat in front of her on the bed, their knees touching. 

“Ye-es… Why?”

“Well, you said your three basics were warmth,” he leaned toward her and pulled the collar of the robe snug around her throat. “Companionship,” he kissed her lightly then smiled at the puzzled expression in her eyes. “And…” 

Tom reached for her hand, turned it palm up, and then whipped out the item he’d been hiding behind his back. He dropped it in her hand with a flourish.

B’Elanna stared at the slim, dark brown rectangle. She glanced at his face taking in his over-eager expression, then looked back at the paper covered ‘offering’. There were large, square silver letters across the top, and B’Elanna angled it so she could read them easily. 

“Her—shey’s.” She raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the still-grinning Tom. 

“I picked up a half dozen before I left Auckland,” he explained. “They’re still made on Earth, in the American sector, not replicated. This is my last one. It’s a little old, but they keep for years.”

B’Elanna shook her head and shrugged. “What… what is it? What’s a shey?” 

The smile slipped from Tom’s face and was replaced with a look of incredulity. “It’s a Hershey bar, B’Elanna. A chocolate bar. Don’t tell me you’ve never had one before.”

“I guess they didn’t ship them to Kessik,” she muttered.

“But you went to the Academy. Here, let me.” Tom shifted closer and took the bar from her. He slid it out of its paper tube, and opened the shiny silver wrapper. B’Elanna peered at the dark reddish-brown candy and sniffed. It smelled like chocolate. Her stomachs growled again.

Tom snapped off a row of little rectangles and offered it to her. She took it gingerly. Each one had the name ‘HERSHEY’S’ stamped on it, as if there might be some doubt who had manufactured the bar.

“They make the milk chocolate in huge vats, then pour it into molds. We went there for a tour when I was a kid. They gave out samples, and I ate so much I got sick and threw up all over my dad’s cowboy boots.” Tom shook his head.

Cowboy boots? B’Elanna suspected there was a lot about Earth culture she didn’t know. “A rosy childhood memory, huh?”

“Yeah, well, they weren’t all bad. Go ahead, try it.” Tom smiled his encouragement.

“Well, after that stunning endorsement…” B’Elanna smirked and raised the chocolate to her mouth. She nibbled a bit from the end, and bit off a hearty chunk when the creamy treat started to melt on her tongue. “Mmmm…”

“Yeah,” Tom agreed. He stretched out on the bed, and pulled her down beside him, pillowing her head on his arm. “You know, I’ll bet I had fantasies like this when I was a kid: in bed with a beautiful, almost naked woman, both of us eating chocolate. It’s an aphrodisiac, you know.”

B’Elanna laughed lightly and bumped his chest with her forehead. “Really?” She stuffed the rest of her portion into her mouth.

“Uh huh. It floods your brain with endorphins. Makes you think you’re in love…”

The teasing grin slid from his mouth, and Tom stared at her intently. She swallowed hard. He tossed the remainder of the chocolate bar onto his bedside table then rolled slowly on top of her, easing his weight onto her and pressing her into the mattress. 

“I don’t need chocolate to tell me how I feel about you, B’Elanna. I’ve been crazy about you for months.” His eyes caught hers and held them. He stared at her, unblinking.

Courage. “I’m pretty crazy about you too,” she admitted quietly. 

His smile radiated joy. He lowered his head and kissed her tentatively, his lips roving softly over hers. She felt his penis twitch against her thigh, and she sighed and gave herself over to him. There was no urgency this time, just an undercurrent of sweetness and belonging—a rightness—that made her head swim.

She threaded her fingers through his hair, remembering all the times she’d wanted to do that, but couldn’t. All the times she’d ached to touch him, and had snapped at him instead hoping her anger would stay the rising feelings of love and lust, want and need. She kissed him with increasing passion, teasing his lips apart and sliding her tongue along his teeth.

Tom moaned low in his throat and pressed his rapidly hardening erection against her belly. He slid one hand along her thigh, trailing his fingers over her hip. “You’re so soft,” he murmured, breaking from her mouth to skim kisses along her jaw and down her throat.

He levered himself up on one elbow so he could tug at the loosely tied belt. The thick looped cotton robe fell aside with a brush of his hand, exposing her torso and hips. She resisted the urge to cover herself again as he studied her body. She heard him sigh.

He reached for her, sliding his hand across her belly and over the sensitive skin of her flank, then reversed direction and moved upward again. “I’ve dreamed about this for so long,” he whispered. His voice was low and rough.

His hand scorched her skin, leaving a trail of fire from her knee to the tender hollow of her throat. His fingertips played lightly across her shoulders, then dipped again to draw loose circles across her breasts. B’Elanna arched her body into him. 

He kissed her neck and shoulder, scattering tiny bites along her collarbone before moving downward to her breast and closing his lips around the areola. His mouth was hot and moist, and she gasped at the sensation of his tongue laving her nipple. She felt the sweet softness of his lips as they pulled gently on her skin, and a sweet fire coiled in her belly in response. Blood rushed to her sex. She thrust her pelvis upward instinctively, brushing his chest with the triangle of silky hair between her legs. Tom wound an arm under her lower back, and held her against him. The crisp hairs on his chest tickled her thighs, and she ground herself against his warm body as he held her tightly.

His lips traced the curve of her breast and the outline of her ribs beneath. He raised his head to capture her mouth again with a series of quick kisses. His mouth was soft and moist on hers, relentless yet entreating. It wasn’t enough. She fisted a hand in his hair, holding him still as she growled her displeasure at his playfulness. Tom laughed lightly, then got down to business, turning the kiss from playful to sensual. This time, he didn’t stop until she was breathless. 

She gripped his shoulders and arched her neck as he broke their kiss, and he took the hint and licked his way along her jaw and down the long, graceful column of her throat. He found her nipple again and pulled on it sharply with his teeth, making her gasp. 

It was hard to believe that this was happening. Again. Her heart beat a rapid tattoo in her chest so loud she could hear the pounding in her ears. She’d wanted this for so long… She wanted to taste him—score his flesh and mark him. She wanted him to claim her again.

His fingertips trailed fire along her ribs to her hip.  He traced a complicated pattern across her belly until he reached the damp hair between her thighs. He explored the sensitive folds, and slowly slid one long finger inside her. B’Elanna moaned, arching her body upward and thrusting her breasts against his mouth. 

When he slid a second finger inside her, she pulled her arms out of the confining robe, and ran her hands across his shoulders. She loved the feel of his warm skin against her bare arms—touching him that way somehow felt more intimate than the sex act itself. 

Her head was spinning, and she felt like she was spiraling toward the ceiling. Tom’s tongue played with her nipple sending little shocks of pleasure through her. When his thumb found her clitoris and pressed lightly, a tidal wave of heat crashed over her. She gripped his shoulders, gasping for air as her orgasm slammed into her hard and fast. It shocked her, and she gripped his ribs tightly with her knees when she wrapped her legs around him. Her body lifted off the bed, and Tom raised his mouth to hers and kissed her hard, swallowing her sharp cry. 

She fell back against the pillows, Tom falling with her. Her body shook slightly as little tremors coursed through her. Tom’s hand slid from her, leaving a moist trail across her thigh to the point of her hip before he spread his fingers wide across her belly. He leaned over and kissed, then nipped the rounded swell of her shoulder. She could have sworn she heard a little growl. B’Elanna grabbed him by the hair and kissed him hard, then parted her lips and slid her tongue along his teeth. She nipped his lower lip, tasting chocolate on his mouth. 

Tom pulled away to smile down at her. “You’re amazing, do you know that?” he said softly. 

Her smile was feral. “You’re not so bad yourself, Paris.” His answering grin stretched wide across his mouth, and she traced the line of his jaw with a finger. 

She quickly flipped him off her and onto his back. His yelp of surprise was cut short when she began to kiss a trail down his chest. He laughed when she poked her tongue into his navel and nipped at the skin above it. His penis bobbed toward her face, and he sat up abruptly, but she shoved him back onto the bed.

Feeling suddenly bold, she grabbed his hands and pressed them into the sheets against his sides. She slid her tongue along his shaft from base to tip, tasting him, exploring the velvety soft skin. Tom sucked in a quick breath and it came out in a low moan when she engulfed him. She took him in as far as she could, and the head of his penis twitched against the roof of her mouth. She sucked on him, milking him with her tongue, memorizing the texture and taste of him. His hips rose off the bed, and he gasped aloud. He pulled a hand free and brought it to her forehead, then slid his fingers into her hair. They tightened abruptly, he pulled her head back until his erection popped out of her lips and knocked against her chin.

“Wait,” he whispered, his voice rough, raw.

She released him and curled her fingers around his shaft, then leaned up to kiss him deeply as she squeezed his sensitive penis. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that, Tom?” Her voice was low and husky. “On the bridge, in the mess, even in the turbolift.” She dipped down for another kiss while she ran her hand up his cock. “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to have you in my mouth. To have you inside me. I need you inside me again.”

He moaned her name and his body rose off the bed, seeking her. She moved over his legs, straddling his hips and holding his cock still as she lowered herself onto him. His fingers dug into her ass, and she gasped as he stretched and filled her. A low growl of pleasure started in her belly and vibrated to the back of her throat. 

Tom held himself still as she settled above him, his hands clenched in the firm flesh of her buttocks. He eased his grip and trailed his fingers toward the small of her back, and B’Elanna shuddered at the feather-light touch. When he finally accepted her invitation and thrust into her, she rocked her hips against him, feeling him ease even deeper. Her eyes closed at the ripple of pleasure his movement produced. She could feel her breasts swell and she willed him to reach for them, to run his hands over them and play with her nipples. “Touch me, Tom,” she breathed. It was more an order than a request.

His large, warm hands slid around her waist, moved over her ribs and up to cup her breasts. Their calloused fingertips raised goose bumps on her skin and she sighed. He kept up a slow, steady rhythm, thrusting up into her even as she pushed down onto him. It was wonderful—that sweet friction. 

Tom captured one nipple, tugging it gently between thumb and finger. His other hand reached up to trace her jaw and cup her cheek, and B’Elanna turned her head and sucked his index finger into her mouth. She tasted herself on him and bit the pad of his finger gently, sliding her tongue along its tip. She had to be careful; she didn’t want to injure him.

Her hands had been kneading his shoulders, but now they slid into his hair and held his head steady as she lowered hers and drew him into a deep kiss. He thrust his hips harder against her, dropping his hands to her waist. They were moving faster now, and she dragged her mouth from his to trail kisses up his cheek to his temple, then down across his closed eyelids to his chin.  She parted her lips and ran her teeth along his jaw—so tempting. So easy to break the skin and taste him. The thought alone was making her dizzy.

Her nipples scraped his collarbone, and she gasped at the budding sense of urgency she felt building inside her. She slammed against him, grinding her clitoris against the springy hair on his groin. Waves of pleasure gathered in her belly, then burst and flowed over her body, cascading over her skin and along her nerves. 

Tom’s hand slid up her spine. His nails dug into her sweat-slicked back as he thrust wildly into her. She heard his gasp, then her own rapid heartbeat pounded so loudly in her ears, it drowned out all other sounds. She collapsed on top of him in a boneless heap, and Tom’s arms slid from her back and flopped—equally boneless—onto the tangled sheets. He swallowed hard, gulping a breath. B’Elanna turned her head and nuzzled his neck, then let out a long, satisfied sigh. 

They lay like that for a long while before the combined heat from their overworked bodies drove her away. She slid off him and curled against his side. She was starting to drift into an exhausted haze when she heard Tom laugh softly. 

“What?” she mumbled sleepily.

“Do you think if we practice, we’ll be able take more than five minutes at this? I think I’d like to make love to you at impulse instead of jumping to warp every time.”

B’Elanna grinned against his chest and hugged him tight. “I guess we could consider the last twenty-four hours a test flight. We’ll have to keep a better eye on the sensors and go for a controlled burn next time.”

She felt Tom’s chest shake with laughter, and angled her neck to look at him. He turned to face her, then slid an arm under her waist and held her tightly. He raised his other hand to the bruise on her shoulder, and traced it with his thumb. “I wonder where Harry would be sleeping tonight if we were still on the planet,” he murmured, “cause he sure as hell wouldn’t be sleeping with us. You have no idea how hard it was to keep my hands off you that first night,” he said softly. 

B’Elanna smiled at the similarity to the thought she’d had half an hour ago. She pressed her nose into his shoulder, then turned her head and relaxed against him, propping her chin on his chest. She traced the crisp red-gold hairs she found there idly, and her lips twitched upward in a wicked smile. “I think I have some idea,” she murmured. 

Tom grinned and pulled her flush against him, wrapping his arms around her and guiding her head to his shoulder. “Whad’ya say to sleeping here tonight?” he asked softly. “I’ve sorta gotten used to waking up with you.”

B’Elanna released a breath but didn’t answer. She ran a hand over his throat and upper chest, then down across his belly and hipbone to the top of his thigh. It felt good to touch his warm skin, to feel the smooth muscles and the fine gold hairs that covered his long, lean body. Sighing contentedly, she looped a hand around his waist, and settled against his side.

She could stay a little while longer, she decided. 

@@@ 

She was finally warm. She woke, stretched luxuriously, and decided she loved the feel of the long, hot, naked body beside her. Tom’s arm was lying heavily on her waist, and she definitely liked the weight. Crisp hairs on his forearm tickled slightly, and she liked that, too. Tom’s snoring, on the other hand, left something to be desired; she was pretty sure that was what woke her up. 

She’d never slept with a man before. Not in the same bed. Her previous sexual encounters had been quick and satisfying—or so she’d thought at the time—but they hadn’t lasted any longer than necessary. There’d been no real intimacy, she realized. 
No sharing of breath and heat and space. No real sharing at all.

With Tom it was different. He was different. Or maybe she was the one who’d changed. Well, whatever it was, she wanted it to last, including this whole sleeping together thing. At least until the ship was out of gray mode. Tom Paris gave off a great deal of heat. If she could bottle him, she might be able to jump-start her warp core. Of course, the thought of jumpstarting his warp core was infinitely more pleasing… She smiled and snuggled against him, and thought about poking him awake. 

She glanced past his head at the chronometer—just a few hours ‘til shift change—and her belly rumbled threateningly. She was really starving now. Her thoughts drifted to engineering. She considered calling Carey for an update, and suddenly remembered that she’d left her combadge in her quarters. A rush of unease numbed her. What if there’d been an emergency? What if something had gone wrong and they’d needed to speak to her? Of course, if the internal sensors were back online, it wouldn’t be too difficult to track down the only Klingon on board…

She had to go. She eased slightly away from him, and Tom responded by tightening his grip on her waist. She lifted his arm, and slid out from under him, shoving her pillow against his chest. He hugged it obligingly and burrowed into the bed, drawing a deep breath before resuming his steady snore.

B’Elanna tiptoed into the living area and picked up her scattered clothing. In moments she was dressed and headed toward the door. Then she stopped. She glanced back at Tom, still sleeping soundly, his body bathed in the pale red glow from the night-lights on his headboard. 

She wasn’t sure what to do. Should she wake him to say good-bye or just sneak out? She wasn’t familiar with the etiquette of leaving your lover in the early hours of the morning. As she stood undecided, Tom rolled onto his side and his hand automatically reached out on the sheets. 

“B’Elanna?” He sounded sleepy and confused. 

She quickly crossed to his side and sat on the bed. “Right here,” she said quietly.

Tom started to sit, but she pushed him back down against the pillows. His skin was warm and taut against her palms, and she suddenly wanted to crawl back into bed with him and run her hands over other parts of his body. She smiled at the thought.

“Why are you dressed?” he asked. “Come back to bed,” he said thickly.

If only she could. “It’s almost morning. I forgot my combadge in my quarters last night, and I need a new uniform before shift starts.”

“I’ll comm Harry and ask him to bring it up,” he offered. His hand slid over her hip. 

B’Elanna smiled and shook her head. “I can’t. I need to get caught up in engineering before the briefing.” She leaned down and kissed him, slow and sweet. As she pulled away she ran her fingertips over the stubble on his chin. “And before I can do that, I need a shower.”

“Okay, lets have another shower.” 

His voice was a sexy rumble, but she resisted. “If we do that, I’ll never get to engineering.” She grinned and stole another quick kiss. “I’ll meet you for breakfast in ninety minutes, okay?”

“Is that the best I can hope for?” he asked.

“I’m afraid so,” she answered lightly. 

“In that case, I’m going back to sleep. I didn’t get much rest last night.” He closed his eyes.

B’Elanna stood. She tried to tug her arm out his grip but he hung on, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a little smile. She growled a warning at him, and he finally released her, giving her hand a little squeeze as it slowly slid out of his own. 

The door slid shut behind her and she walked to the turbolift with a spring in her step. She ran her fingertips lovingly along one wall of the corridor, then sighed contentedly as she tapped the button to call for the lift. It was empty when it arrived, and she leaned against the cool, clean, plasti-steel bulkhead and smiled. “Deck nine, section twelve,” she ordered quietly. 

She glanced at the familiar gray walls and felt a peace settle over her. Home. She was home and warm and soon she’d be fed. And Tom was going to join her. She had her basics and a little more besides. 

@@@@@ 
 
 

the end.