A/N: Set in the first couple of episodes of Season 7-before Drive.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns all. I just play with it.
Tom Paris: Serious Disappointment.
I always kind of figured that was what my dad thought my name should have been. After all, he told me enough times that I was one. A Serious Disappointment, that is. Capital letters and all. I didn't apply myself at the Academy, I considered taking a test pilot job, the mess at Caldik Prime, the Maquis…clearly I had no idea what it meant to be a Paris. When Captain Janeway gave me the opportunity to get out of that Godforsaken penal colony, I jumped at it. Obviously. Why stick around any longer than I had to? It was just asking for a constant reminder of how much of a Serious Disappointment I was.
When Voyager got stuck in the Delta Quadrant, I admit it: I was relieved. I still am, of course, but my reasons have changed. Then, I was just grateful to get away from Earth. Away from the oppressive expectations of the almighty Paris family. Oh, I knew that eventually that would get old too-after all, I'd never taken much stock in regulations, and there's only so many women on one starship. It wasn't long, though, before I realized that what this Captain thought of me actually mattered, somehow. I wanted to impress her, to prove that I could be a good officer. Despite everyone on the ship looking down on me and expecting me to screw up, either because of Caldik or because of my getting caught on the Maquis mission, I wanted to do better. And slowly, I started to think that I could.
Then, somehow, before I even knew what was happening, my reasons for being happy to be on Voyager changed.
It happened without warning. I definitely didn't see it coming. It was as though one second, we were friends.
The next, I was in love with her.
B'Elanna Torres. Half Klingon, Chief Engineer, former Maquis…and the woman that I, Serious Disappointment, Tom Paris, managed to fall in love with. At the beginning, I didn't even want to express my interest. There wasn't any point. I knew my reputation preceded me, and I knew what her opinion of me was. Oh, we were friends, but I knew she had no other interest in me. She'd made that clear enough on several occasions. She had no use for my…what was her term? Oh, yes, flyboy dalliances. Hell, I couldn't even get her to come and play a Captain Proton holonovel with Harry and I. And you know, she was probably right. I knew that all along. She was beautiful, brilliant, passionate, and witty, among other things. And what was I? Just a Starfleet flyboy, to borrow her term. But that didn't stop me from falling in love with her. She turned me down flat, of course, every time I asked her out. But the more I did it, and the closer we became as friends, the more it seemed, sometimes, like her refusal came just a fraction of a second slower. Seemed like her smile would last just a fraction of a second too long on her lips. But I was only imagining it. I had to be. I was a Starfleet flyboy, a Serious Disappointment.
When that damn Vorik infected her with his Pon Farr, I wanted to kill him. Seeing B'Elanna in that much pain nearly killed me. Between her pain and hearing her beg me to, ah, help her, I almost lost it. I felt like I was being torn apart from the inside. I wanted to give in to her. Desperately. I felt like I was fighting against myself every second we were down in those caves. I very nearly did give in to her, in that moment when she told me she had wanted me for a long time.
But I knew it was only the hormones talking. And, turns out, I was right. Once she kicked Vorik's ass halfway back to the Alpha Quadrant, she was right back to her usual self. She certainly seemed a little warmer towards me after that though, a little more teasing, a little less quick to defend herself. I figured it was just gratitude, until we were trapped in those EV suits when the stupid Caatati destroyed our shuttle.
I love you, she told me, and I was speechless. Probably, if I hadn't been dying of oxygen deprivation, I'd have cried. As it was, all I could manage was to make a smartass remark before taking her into my arms. At least, taking her into my arms as well as I could in that damn suit.
The next three days were the longest of my life. She avoided me, which I took to mean she regretted what she said. I avoided her to spare her the embarrassment. Harry told me he wanted to smack us both. Finally, he told me I had to talk to her at Tuvok's promotion party. "I can't take the tension anymore, Tom," he'd said. "Seriously, work it out. You guys have been friends for too long, been through too much together, to throw it all away over an awkward what-if."
He was right, of course. I almost missed my chance when she bolted out of the room the second the ceremony was over. I had to chase her down.
But God, it was worth it. Hearing the words come out of her mouth, her slightly awkward, Oh no, I meant it, was worth every second of tension. Kissing her for the first (non-hormonally imbalanced) time was like having everything I could have dreamed of up until that moment come true.
It's been three years since that moment, and we've been through more than I could have imagined two people surviving through. I'm so grateful to her for everything she's done for me. I no longer feel like Tom Paris, Serious Disappointment. More like…Tom Paris, Okay Guy. I still don't deserve her. Not even close. But somehow, for some reason, she keeps me around. Hopefully, she plans to keep that up.
Because I plan on asking her to. Forever. I haven't decided exactly when, yet. But it will be soon. There's a box, hidden in my quarters. I've made sure she won't find it, but I've started to carry it around with me. I'm just waiting for the right time.
Because when the right time comes, I'm asking B'Elanna to marry me. Because if the events of my life, if my time on Voyager has taught me anything, it's that this is what I was meant for. Her life, her happiness, they're everything to me. She managed to turn an angry, jaded pilot into a man even my dad might find it in his heart to be proud of. I'm never going to be able to repay her for the happiness she brings me. But I hope, over time, that I might be able to make her even half as happy as she has made me.
If I do that, I might almost deserve her.