Disclaimer: All things Star Trek belong to CBS/Paramount. I only own my imagination.

Spoilers: Cold fire. If you haven't seen it, this won't make much sense.

Author's Note: I have the ambition to keep these coming, but I also have a real life which can mess with me. This "will we get home this time or not" rabbit is pulled out of the hat yet again and it needs to be discussed.

B'Elanna picked up the cup in front of her. "That Tanis guy? There's something about him."

"Oh? I haven't met the guy. I hear he's some Ocampa!" Tom said.

She gave him a long dark look. "I don't get why Kes is so taken with him. Sure, he's Ocampa and she haven't seen any Ocampa for almost a year, but he's... " She didn't finish the sentence, instead she took a sip from the steaming cup.

"Creepy?" Tom offered.

"He's pleasant enough, polite and shows great interest in Kes, but I don't like him." She looked at the cup in her hands and tilted it slowly from side to side. "I'm starting to wonder if Kes is rubbing off on me. I don't sense things the way she does, but this guy, I can sense there's something lurking underneath that polished surface." She looked up.

"Just because you don't have the same abilities as she has, that doesn't mean you can't sense when something isn't adding up. We're all more than just the words we say, and that definitely goes for the Ocampa. If you think the guy is creepy, he probably is creepy." Tom smiled at the half-Klingon in front of him and she reluctantly returned the smile.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she said and had some more of the hot beverage in the cup she was holding.

He grinned at her and in his eyes there was a gleam of mischievousness as he kept eye contact with her. She put down the cup with a thud.

"Paris, you stop that immediately!" she said sharply.

"What?" he asked and feigned innocence by throwing out his arms and raising his eyebrows.

"You're a pig, flyboy, but I never suspected you of having a creepy agenda." she said with emphasis. Tom laughed at her and leaned forward over the table.

"But you are sceptical B'Elanna."

"Better sceptical than gullible," she grumbled and glowered at him.

"I never said it was an altogether bad thing to be sceptical," he replied and leaned back in his chair. "Besides, you weren't all that wrong about me. I didn't care about many things other than drowning my sorrows. And flying," he said with a streak of contempt in his voice.

B'Elanna tilted her head and the corners of her mouth curved slightly. "It wasn't that bad. When you forgot that you didn't care about anything, you were okay," she said. Tom looked at her with surprise but before he was able to say anything she continued, "Now don't get too excited. I haven't forgotten about those 98% of pure Paris pig behaviour." He threw his head back and laughed aloud while B'Elanna glanced around at the surrounding tables with some unease. Trying to look like she was unaffected by his mirth she picked up the cup and drank some of the content.

"So, how are things going with Kes?" she asked lightly once he had calmed down again. The question chased away every sign of mirth in Tom. He was quiet for a moment.

"How are things with the commander?" he retorted calmly.

She winced and looked up at him. "I'm sure he's fine," she said and tried to hide her thoughts by drinking some more, avoiding his eyes.

"And I'm sure Kes is fine too. Quite busy hanging with Tanis, I've heard." His voice didn't reveal any annoyance which made B'Elanna look up at him. To her relief he didn't seem angry but she wanted to kick herself for what she said.

"With that out of the way I suggest we talk about something else," he continued still holding her gaze. For some reason that made her blush slightly and she looked down at her cup.

Tom sighed inwardly. The cobra was never far away and as irritated he could get when B'Elanna pulled it out, he knew she did it when she needed a shield of some sort. He watched her pick up the cup and drink and he was surprised to see that she was blushing. He couldn't keep the corners of his mouth from curving slightly but he decided he wasn't going to rub her nose in her embarrassment.

"So this could be it," he said lightly.

B'Elanna looked up at him with a blank face.

"We could be going home," he reminded her.

"Oh, right. Yeah, we could," she said without enthusiasm and her eyes drifted away.

Tom leaned forward on his underarms. "If we're not sent home this time I'm beginning to think we're not finding a shortcut in a very long time, if ever."

She looked back at him, sighed and leaned her cheek in her hand. "I'd like to think we're going home, even if it's going to be complicated, but..." she put both her elbows on the table and leaned her chin on her knuckles. "I can't help thinking this caretaker chase is a dead end."

Tom nodded and looked down at the table. "I've gotten used to this, flying Voyager, being part of this crew, and I'm not in a hurry to go home." He looked up and smiled slightly. "I don't have a cause to get back to."

B'Elanna smiled warmly. "You could, if you wished. I'm pretty sure Chakotay would have you."

He chuckled. "He'd be a fool not to." The smile faltered. "It's getting harder and harder to imagine such a life again. I don't think I'd be accepted by Starfleet, but flying with the Maquis again?" He paused. "I'd probably prefer it to New Zealand, but it's not the life I want. There's no future in that. It suited me when my best friend was the bottle, but it's not that attractive now."

B'Elanna looked down at the table to prevent her eyes from betraying her thoughts. "There's always the trade circuit," she said with a neutral voice still not looking up. When Tom's response didn't come she looked up and found him gazing at her, obviously deep in thought.

"Piloting cargo ships are as interesting as watching paint dry," he said.

"You could get your own ship," she suggested. "You'd not have to fly yourself if you did." A wide smile lit up her face. "You could be your very own captain."

Tom chuckled. "Imagine that. Captain Paris." He shook his head. "I'd drown in paper work," he protested.

"I think you'd be able to handle that. It'd probably be trickier handling a crew and getting the people you'd need," she retorted.

"Looking for a job? I'd probably need a gifted engineer." Tom smiled at her.

"Have you forgotten I have a war to fight?" she playfully asked.

"That won't last forever. You need something to do once it's over, unless I can persuade you that joining me is a better deal than being killed by a Cardassian Galor class warship," he joked.

B'Elanna fought to keep herself from smiling but eventually she gave in. "I'd... consider it." She sat up and shook her head. "We're not home yet though."

"No, we're not. Besides, I don't have a stash of money I have no other use for, so getting my own flying tin can would be difficult."

B'Elanna bit back her response. Though he was estranged from his father she was pretty sure he could solve such an enterprise financially if he wanted to. She did not want to spoil the moment by bringing it up though. Instead she emptied the cup while Tom stifled a yawn.

"I think I'll head to my place. I'd need to be rested to make the right decisions in case we're suddenly hurled back to the Alpha quadrant," he said and rose from his chair. B'Elanna rose too.

"I'll turn in too. It's been a long day," she answered. They left the mess hall heading for the turbolift together in silence and the lift journey was equally quiet. At deck four the lift stopped and opened its doors letting Tom out. He stopped just outside the lift and turned to look at B'Elanna.

"That freighter idea perhaps isn't such a bad idea. But I'd still need an engineer. Think about it," he said and grinned.

The doors closed and the turbolift started moving again. B'Elanna smiled.