Characters: Tom/B'Elanna/Seven, Genre: Comedy/Romance, Rating: K

A/N: Just an FYI, Paris gets demoted to ensign midway season 5.

Admiral's Ensign

Tom was walking towards the turbolift a little faster than usual this morning. His hair was a mess and, so far, he had one arm through his Starfleet uniform. By the time Seven was within five feet of him, he was running his fingers forward through his hair in an attempt to make it neater, but he failed.

Seven cupped her data pad with both hands, stood straight before Tom and gave him a look as if an explanation for his appearance was required. "Good morning." Her tone had the usual condescendence.

Tom barely looked at her as he only stopped for a moment to give an insincere smile. "Hello Seven. Can't talk right now, got to get to engineering before a certain engineer puts me in the dog house." He snorted. "Although, I think I'm in it already."

"You are referring to B'Elanna."

Tom gave a stretched nod.

Seven exhaled heavily and folded her hands behind her back. "I suggest you take caution in talking to her. She has been acting extremely irritable and hostile ... more than usual."

Tom studied her to see if B'Elanna's verbal abuse had penetrated that Borg exterior. It appeared it hadn't. "Why, what'd she say to you?"

"It is not important. Her Klingon behaviour is something I've come to expect on a daily basis. It is pointless getting upset about it." She turned her attention back to her data pad and continued down the hall.

"Easy for a Borg to say."

. . .

The doors slid open revealing a vibrant blue warp core and the bustle of Starfleet engineers. Somehow, everyone seemed to be on edge, their faces strained on what they were doing. Not one person looked at Tom as he entered the bay.

"VORIK. DID YOU DO THE INTEGRAL ANALYSIS ON THE WARP FIELD YET?"

"No Sir." The Vulcan said calmly. "I've been trying to realign the primary relays-"

"WELL HURRY IT UP."

"Aye Sir."

Tom took a deep breath and walked over to the woman pounding at the control panel in front of the core. "The new warp core enhancements keeping you busy?"

Her eyes remained glued to the panel. Her jaw was clenched. "What do you want."

Tom half rolled his eyes. His palms were outstretched out in his defence. "I'm sorry B'Elanna."

She didn't respond.

"Look, tonight we'll have dinner. I promise, I'll make it up to you." She moved to another control panel and he followed. "Grilled steak with mushrooms and green peppers, the finest tasting wine and a calm midnight setting on the shores of San Francisco." He was looking and acting as cheerful as he could.

"Fine."

"W-what, really?"

She finally looked at him but with a straight face. "Tonight at twenty-one hundred hours. Somehow, no matter how impossible and absent minded you are, even you couldn't possibly stand me up for three dinners in a row." She looked down at the console again. "Or maybe it's just wishful thinking."

"It's not." Tom smiled and grasped her hand. An act she didn't resist.

When she looked at him, her expression had more concern than sternness. "Tonight, I want you to tell me what's been bothering you Tom."

His grin faded, eyes lowered.

"I'm not angry because I couldn't have a meal with you." She put her hand over his. "I'm upset because you don't tell me what's going on in with you, when clearly, there is something."

For a moment, the thin line between his lips grew into simple and honest smile. "Alright," he whispered.

He slowly withdrew and made his way out of the engineering bay. He sighed and rubbed the back of his head.

"Doctor to ensign Paris."

The doctor had put a little too much emphasis on this "ensign" part. He tapped his com. "Paris here."

"I require your presence in sickbay. Something I was expecting over an hour ago."

He smirked. "I'm on my way Doc."