Second Chances: Chapter 81

A/N: Posting today because I'm working tomorrow and now sure when I'll be home. Also, I hadn't planned on writing this chapter, but realized that it had been a while since we had a "now" chapter, so I stuck this one here, even though we're almost at the end. Three more chapters, if I have my count right. Thanks to everyone who has stuck through this for so long! It's been over a year since I started posting chapters. Time flies when you're having fun.

Stardate 54481
November 2377
Hawaii, Earth

Lt. Tom Paris woke up and experienced a split second of panic at his unfamiliar surroundings before it came back to him. He was in Hawaii, in B'Elanna's—their?—apartment, the light streaming in from behind the thin curtains, which were swaying slightly with the ocean breeze, the sound of waves and birds coming in through the open window.

And he was alone.

He had only lived with his wife for eight months before he left on Voyager, and in that time, he could count on one hand the number of times B'Elanna woke up before he did. If he added the first summer they were dating and the random nights they got to spend together when she was a cadet and he was living on Mars, he still wouldn't use both hands.

And yet, here they were, on the first morning they had together since Voyager's return, and her side of the bed was decidedly cold.

He finally got up, grabbing his robe from where they had unceremoniously dumped his duffel the night before, and made his way out of the bedroom. He soon found his wife, sitting out on the balcony—lanai, she had called it the night before—in her running clothes, her feet up on an ottoman, a mug of what had to be raktajino in her hand and his sister sitting across from her, similarly attired.

Facing the way they were, it was Sydney who saw him first. "Good morning, sleeping beauty," she said with a smirk. "I was wondering if you were going to be gracing us with your presence any time soon."

"What time is it?" he asked, wondering how he could have slept so late.

"It's only zero-eight," B'Elanna said, rolling her eyes at Sydney. She turned her head up to him and he bent down to give her a kiss. She tasted like raktajino; he was relieved to see that, of everything that had changed since he left, her coffee preference had not. "I didn't want to wake you."

"How long have you been up?"

"A few hours," she said. "We went for a run," she explained needlessly.

"When did you become a morning person?" he asked incredulously. B'Elanna chuckled.

"2371?" she guessed, then shrugged. "Not much of a choice when you have an infant who doesn't sleep. And then when I was a company commander, I had to be at formation at 0630. Moving to Hawaii didn't help," she continued. "In retrospect, I should have chosen somewhere further east than San Francisco instead of west. Mexico or Peru or Chile or somewhere."

He ducked back inside to replicate a mug of coffee for himself before joining them on the third chair on the lanai. "I like it here," he offered.

"So do I," B'Elanna said with a sigh, looking out at the water.

"When are you guys moving back to Mars?" Sydney asked. Tom was surprised at the question; he didn't realize that his family knew that they had been talking about where they wanted to go and what they wanted to, but B'Elanna didn't seem fazed.

"We're still figuring that out," she replied. "I have to finish out this semester at a minimum. That gives us six weeks to decide what our next step is."

"Kajsa will be sad to see you go," Sydney said with a chuckle. "She's not going to be happy moving back with the grandparents."

"She doesn't live here," B'Elanna protested, and Sydney laughed again.

"You moved into a bigger apartment so she could have her own room," she pointed out. "And you even asked her if she would mind staying with Mom and Dad for the next few days. And now that Steph is back here on Earth, I have to listen to her complain about how unfair it is that Kajsa gets to live with B'Elanna and Izzy and she has to stay in San Francisco."

"She goes to school in New York," B'Elanna said, rolling her eyes. "Living in Hawaii would be a nightmare."

"I don't think you can reason with a 14-year-old," Sydney pointed out. She took a drink of her coffee before turning to Tom. "What're your plans today?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. Turning to his wife, he asked, "What are our plans today?"

"You have the group promotion ceremony at 1300, San Francisco time." That would be two hours from now. "Other than that, no plans," she said. "I'm not going to the office today and I'm not due back at the Academy until Monday."

"You're taking the day off work?" Sydney asked incredulously, and B'Elanna fixed her with a look.

"I have gone into the office every day for the last three months," she said. "I've earned a few days off."

"Well, sure," Sydney agreed. "I just never thought you'd take them." She raised her coffee mug to her lips to finish the last of the beverage as she stood, her hips popping as she did so. "I'm too old for this," she complained. "I'll see you guys at the promotion ceremony. Don't be late, Commanders," she said.

Tom waited until he heard the door close behind his sister before he turned back to his wife. "Where's Izzy?" he asked.

She seemed amused at the question. "She's at school," she said. "It's Thursday and she's been out for a week."

"So we have the place to ourselves," he said, eyebrows raised. She looked over at him and laughed.

"Got something in mind, Flyboy?" she teased. He did, actually, and apparently, she had the same thing in mind.

He didn't want to leave that bed, but knew that skipping officially becoming a lieutenant commander was probably not the best to start out officially being a lieutenant commander, even if, in the eyes of Starfleet, he had held the rank for two years already. He groaned as he got up, and groaned again as he realized he needed to replicate a new uniform—Starfleet had made it abundantly clear that now that they were back in Federation space, it was time for them to stop acting like they were lost on the other side of the galaxy, to start with wearing the proper uniform. He was sure the only reason they hadn't insisted on it as soon as contact had been made was that they couldn't think of a good reason to require Captain Janeway to use up the energy necessary to replicate over 150 sets of uniforms when nobody they made contact with would know the difference.

"It's all very… gray," he commented as he secured the new uniform top over his red turtleneck.

"Hmm?" B'Elanna murmured distractedly, getting into her own uniform.

"The uniforms," he said, gesturing at his torso vaguely. "Everything's monochromatic. Gray duty uniform, white and gray dress uniform. Starfleet always seemed so colorful when I was a kid. The same three primary colors, sure, but you can't deny that it was all very bright."

"I never realized I married such a fashion critic," B'Elanna teased.

"I'm full of surprises," he shot back.

Aside from the graduation ceremony at Starfleet Academy, Paris had never seen almost 100 people get promoted at once, and was honestly a little impressed at how they pulled it off, especially the day after they returned to Earth. They were just promoting members of the 'true Starfleet' crew that day; Headquarters hadn't made a decision yet about what to do about the provisional ranks Captain Janeway had given the former Maquis crewmembers, and honestly, that alone made Paris wonder how many of them wanted to keep any of their status or rank with Starfleet, an organization that, despite having more than three years to figure it out, was still having a hard time acknowledging how important they had been in their collective survival over the years.

Captain Janeway had done as good of a job as she could keeping the ranks fair. They obviously couldn't go off time in service, as they would have if they were still in the Alpha quadrant. There were no other ships to transfer people to, and if their journey had really taken the anticipated 70 years, they would have arrived home a ship full of admirals. Instead, she had rounded out the positions to the appropriate ranks. Joe had become a full lieutenant, as a chief engineer shouldn't be less than that, even on a smaller ship. Sue had been promoted to lieutenant, jg as one of his deputies, and Seska, for that brief second of time that she had been a member of their crew, had been commissioned as lieutenant, jg to serve as his other deputy. A few years in, she had promoted Tuvok to lieutenant commander, a move she probably should have made sooner. She had offered to give the EMH rank—lieutenant commander, with the opportunity to promote to commander—as well as Kes—ensign, when she started out the nurse—and Seven—lieutenant, jg—but they had declined, Kes and Seven both preferring to stay out of the rank structure and remaining as civilian crewmembers, and the Doctor not seeing the point, as doctors didn't serve in command positions.

Well, before he had fashioned himself as the ECH, of course.

But there was only so far the captain could go with promotions, which left a lot of people, such as Harry and Sam, still serving as ensigns, because that's what the manning roster called for. Which brought them to today, where everyone who had started the mission as a Starfleet officer would be brought up in rank to where they should be. And where Tom Paris would have to participate in yet another ceremony, something he really didn't enjoy.

Fortunately, Captain Janeway had an idea of all that they would be going through in the coming weeks, all of the ceremonies and speeches and hearings and inquests, and kept her remarks brief, general words about how proud she was of her crew and how admirably all had served together, putting their differences aside for their common goal of getting home, a not-so-subtle dig at Starfleet Headquarters for their failure to recognize her former-Maquis crewmembers.

The adjuvant called them to order, and then Captain Janeway came through with the pips. "Lieutenant Commander Thomas Eugene Paris," the adjuvant announced. Tom hadn't realized he would be the most senior of the promotees, and then couldn't understand why he didn't realize it; he had been the fourth most senior officer on the ship since the dust had settled from the Caretaker's mess, and with Tuvok having been promoted a few years before and Chakotay still not officially addressed, there had been no one above him that day. "Lieutenant Commander Joseph Mitchell Carey," the adjuvant continued. "Lieutenant Susan Christine Nicoletti." As the adjuvant continued with the names, Captain Janeway continued with the pips, and Paris's muscles began to ache from standing at attention for so long. He wished he could have had a ceremony like B'Elanna's: small, no fuss, pinned by Izzy, ending in cake.

When it was finally over and everyone had the proper rank on their collars, Tom accepted a glass of champagne and a kiss from B'Elanna. "Let's not do it like this next time," he commented.

"How about this: I won't make you get promoted in a giant ceremony if you can keep your father from surprising me at work with a promotion party."

"Deal," he agreed, and they sealed the deal with a kiss. "So," he said after taking a sip of the champagne. "What're we going to do with the rest of your time off until Monday?"