A/n: Thanks once again to Jedi Master Misty Sman-Esay and Valkara for giving me the idea for this little one-shot. I hope you both like it.

"I can't believe I'm doing this…" B'Elanna grumbled under her breath as she positioned herself for the throw.

Tom, standing at her side with his arm around her waist, laughed happily. "Out of all the hard to believe things you've done today, the major one being that you married me, its a little bouquet toss that gets to you?"

"It's idiotic that's all, who in their right mind thought up the idea that catching a bunch of flowers increased a woman's chances of getting married?"

Tom smirked at her sarcastic tone, "A florist wanting more business maybe? Or drunken spinsters just like the group gathering behind you?"

B'Elanna glanced behind her, making the crowd of her eager, single female colleagues cheer as they stood in wait. "Oh for Kahless' sake…" She muttered impatiently.

"Would you have preferred a Klingon wedding tradition?" Tom asked softly against her ear as he hugged her slender body close.

"You might have." B'Elanna replied with a teasing glint in her eye, "One of them is that two single women have a Bat'Leth match to impress potential suitors."

"Sounds good, but since I've already taken the only woman proficient with a Bat'Leth off the market…" He whispered huskily.

B'Elanna's eyebrows rose, her lips fighting the urge to curve into a smile as she asked drily, "And who might this impressive woman be?"

"Mrs B'Elanna Paris." He murmured as he leaned in for a deep kiss which she easily reciprocated.

A chorus of dog whistles and cheers started up behind them. "Come on, you'll have plenty of time for that in the holodecks!" The best man, Ensign Harry Kim, shouted from the back, earning him grateful looks from the waiting group of women that made him blush.

B'Elanna laughed as she and Tom broke a couple of centimetres apart. "For that one Harry, I'm going to make sure and not aim for you!" With that she threw the bouquet behind her with all her considerable strength, but instead of the expected riot of cheers and teasing, the room fell silent.


Seven of Nine gave a start as she saw some sort of white missile flying through the air, but her natural quick reflexes caught it with an ease which seemed, inexplicably, to plunge the rather rowdy wedding reception for Lieutenants Paris and Torres into an awkward silence. Bemused, she looked down at what she held, the small bunch of white lilies tied with a green ribbon that had been Lieutenant Torres bridal bouquet. She stared back at the stunned crowd, expecting some sort of explanation, but her expression seemed to thaw the atmosphere and everyone began to laugh and chatter again with more abandon than before, still coyly studying her as they did so. "What does this signify?" she asked Tuvok, standing beside her at the back of the Mess Hall out of the way of the crowds, as she fingered the flowers' soft petals thoughtfully.

Tuvok's eyes swept momentarily over the giggling crew and then focused again on Seven's innocently curious eyes. "You may not want to know." He replied honestly, his face as stoic as ever. Seven accepted his judgement easily enough and left him to discreetly return the bouquet to B'Elanna, who, feeling bad that she'd put the hopelessly clueless Borg in a slightly embarrassing situation, took them back quietly with a smile of thanks.


"Everyone, please clear the floor for the traditional garter toss!" Neelix announced gleefully as he positioned a chair in the centre of the room, scurrying back into the crowd when Tom led B'Elanna out onto the floor.

"I think Neelix is taking these traditions a little far!" Tom joked as he settled B'Elanna on the chair and kneeled down beside her.

"You know Neelix, anything to increase morale." B'Elanna replied, suppressing a girlish giggle as he pulled up her skirt.

"This definitely increases my morale!" Tom replied loudly, getting chortles from the guests as he skilfully removed her garter, sneakily kissing the inside of her thigh as he did so. "Right guys, get ready!" he rallied, spinning the garter like a lasso around his wrist before throwing it away wildly as B'Elanna collapsed on him, crippled with laughter.


Chakotay couldn't help but wince as the garter hit him full on the chest and landed in his hands. He tried to hide it behind his back but Chell had noticed and sent up a shout, "The Commander got it!" The men around him began to snicker and several of the women, their inhibitions towards a senior officer lowered by synthehol and the fact that he looked even more handsome than usual in his formal uniform.

Within a minute or so a flushed looked Tom, his collar askew, came up to him. "Did you see who caught the bouquet?" he asked, a little too innocently in Chakotay's mind.

Chakotay shrugged. "No, I wasn't watching. Didn't it just hit the floor or something? I didn't hear any celebrations from any of the women."

"Well…" Tom began but stopped as he realised Seven was beside him.

"I returned the flowers to Lieutenant Torres Commander. I have no use for them." Seven told Chakotay simply, unaware of the connotations behind Tom's ever widening grin directed at Chakotay.

"You…You caught the bouquet Seven?" Chakotay asked in disbelief, glaring at Tom as the pilot made a speedy retreat.

"Unintentionally yes, but I cannot interpret why everyone seems to find that important, or amusing." She replied, her brow deeply furrowed as she met his gaze, obviously anticipating some level of explanation from him.

He swallowed awkwardly, not wanting Seven to take fright and leave the party altogether. Yet as he looked into her unnervingly piercing blue gaze he knew he shouldn't mislead her. "It's a human tradition and superstition that the unmarried woman who catches the bride's bouquet is going to be the next one to get married."

"Oh." Seven muttered, stiffening as she looked down for a moment before meeting his eyes again. "That is an irrational theory. The odds that I, out of all the women on Voyager, will be the next to be wed are extremely low."

The matter of fact tone in which she said this made Chakotay's heart tighten. "You're being a little hard on yourself, don't you think?" he asked. Seven blinked in surprise before cocking her head questioningly to one side, her metal eyebrow raised. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Well Seven, you're very intelligent and loyal, not to mention beautiful." He pointed out hurriedly, feeling embarrassed.

She seemed not to notice his discomfort. "Beautiful?" she echoed in a doubtful whisper.

Chakotay looked at her incredulously. "Hasn't anyone told you that before Seven?"

"No." She answered bluntly before shrugging, "I am Borg, why would I be?" Her hand unconsciously brushed the implant over her eye as she spoke.

"You were Borg." He stated firmly, "Now you're human, and a very beautiful one, believe me."

She dipped her head in acknowledgement of his compliment, but he wasn't sure she believed him until she flashed him one of her very rare smiles. "Thank you for the explanation Commander." She murmured softly before walking away from him.

Chakotay watched her disappear out the door, surprised to feel a sigh leaving his lips. He glanced down at the garter still in his hand. "She's right, it is irrational." He muttered to himself before discarding it on the floor.

A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I might add another little chapter onto this if I get enough requests for it, since I love writing weddings. (As you can probably tell by now, lol!)