*It should be noted that my updates are sporadic because I'm unable to get online with anything other than my phone most of the time. On that note, though, he's the next installment*


I pause, taking time to genuinely consider it. True, I may not need the foreplay human women do, but so far, it's been a lot fun. Tom does have a point—we only get to have this moment once. This is a bigger deal than other "relationships" I've been in, and I want to savor it. "I do."

That's definitely the answer he wanted. He grins from ear to ear, wrapping his arms around me as our lips find each other's again. Not surprisingly, he's really good at kissing. Of course, I had an inkling about that before now, but the kissing we did previously is nothing compared to tonight.

I give him a little push, and he falls back willingly, sprawling onto the bed gracelessly. I crawl after him, draping my body over his. I adjust my hips, watching his face contort as I rub against him just a little. "B'Elannaaaaa," he moans, and I shift again, enjoying the reaction. I grab the edge of his shirt and tug it up, yanking it over his head before he can protest.

His smell hits me like a phaser blast and I take a deep breath, my eyes falling shut. He smells amazing. Amazing. Usually, I can pick up his scent no matter what, even in the middle of the crowded mess hall, and it's like a gentle presence. It's reassuring. But I've never smelled him bare-chested. It's more potent and a hell of a lot more intoxicating. I feel my insides quivering. I bury my face against his chest, licking and sucking at every piece of skin I can find. I suddenly feel desperate for him, and I marvel for just a few moments at how fast I'm able to shift gears, going from insecure to horny in a nanosecond.

I always forget just how sensitive my sense of smell is until moments like this, but I can honestly say that I've never fixated on a scent the way I have with Tom's.

I feel myself growl from deep within somewhere. My brain barely has time to register that growling is exactly the sort of behavior I try to avoid as I make my way back up his chest, pressing my lips to his in a frenzy. His fingers dig into my thighs and I smile against his mouth. I tighten my knees against his sides and he gasps, his chest moving rapidly beneath mine. I want him. I want him like I've never wanted anything before. I work my way over his jaw, my teeth digging into the tender flesh of his cheek, and I realize he's stopped responding. I lift my head to stare at him, shocked. He gazes back at me, panting, his eyes dark and hazy, unfocused.

"What's wrong?" I finally ask, panic and concern fighting for prominence. Did I scare him? Did I hurt him? Is he completely horrified by me?

"Nothing," he answers softly, reaching up to tuck a few strands of hair behind my ear.

"No, really." If this isn't what he wants, we need to stop this now.

He gives me a half smile, looking sheepish. "I'm afraid to move."

"You're afraid to move?" That's a new one.

He chuckles regretfully. "I'm afraid I'll embarrass myself."

It takes a few moments, but brain finally starts to connect the dots. "Oh."

"Yeah. It's been a while since I had sex."

I snort and push myself into a seated position on his lap, crossing my arms. "Right, Tom."

His eyes grow wide for a few moments, and I suppose the view from his angle, despite the fact that I'm still wearing my underwear, probably isn't helping his situation. "I've struck out a lot, B'Elanna."

"It's a small ship—it can't all be rumors."

At least he doesn't insult my intelligence by lying to me.

"No, they're not, but I've still struck out more times than not, and, you know, it's been more than a year since I last had sex."

That gets my attention. "A year?"

"Do you really think I would pursue you as vigorously as I have and chase other women at the same time?"

Truthfully, I never really gave it that much thought. "I suppose I assumed that you were keeping your options open."

"I may be a pig, but I'm a one-woman pig. Just because progress with you has been slow doesn't mean I've been bumping uglies with anyone else."

"Bumping uglies? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He gives me a look of mock exasperation. "It's a childish euphemism for sex I picked up somewhere along the way, and I haven't done that with anyone for a long time. Hell, I haven't wanted to do that with anyone else for a long time. You've been the only one I wanted for…I don't even know how long at this point. Regardless, it's been a while, and I was getting worked up way too fast. The last thing I want to do right now is act like some horny teenager in front of you, and I definitely don't recover the way I did back then."

"If it's been a year, don't you have anything in reserves?"

His hands move up to my legs, his fingers gently stroking my thighs, and I take that as a good sign. "Most likely, but I still don't recover as fast." His forehead crinkles up and he tilts his head, giving me a funny look. "Hey—have you been keeping your options open?"

"You mean, have I slept with anyone else lately? Well, as much as I enjoy the thought of being part of the rumor mill, I'm sure you'll be happy to hear that I haven't."

"Aren't you…I don't know, hornier than hell?"

"Now that you mention it…" I rock my hips against his a couple of times, enjoying the way his eyes roll back into his head. "There's this thing called the holodeck, Tom. You should try it out. You can be as promiscuous as you want without any repercussions."

"And have you been—" He pauses, his breathing ragged as he tries to regain his composure. "Have you been promiscuous on the holodeck?"

"Is this really stuff you want to know about right now?"

"Honestly, I'm just trying to distract myself. I think I still need some more time." He shrugs at my unasked question, not looking the least bit embarrassed. "Like I said, it's been a long time, not to mention that I'm actually in bed with you. Can we just…talk for a little while?"

"Talk," I repeat. Humans, I think to myself teasingly. I slide off his lap and stretch out on the bed next to him, propping my head up in my hand. "Sure. What did you want to talk about?"

He takes a few deep breaths and I glance down his body, his erection still impressively tenting his shorts. Without thinking about it, my hand reaches out toward him, curious about how he'll feel in my hand, when he grabs my wrist. His grip is surprisingly tight. I give my arm a few tugs but he manages to hold on, not letting my wandering hands anywhere near him. My desire and anticipation levels rise to almost dangerous levels so I take a few deep breaths myself. This is going to be better than I ever expected.

I glance back up at him and we stare at each other for a few moments, waiting. Finally, he smiles at me and brings my hand to his lips, kissing my palm before resting it on his chest. He turns onto his side and wraps his arms around me, pulling me close enough so that our heads are sharing a pillow. The moment is surreal. A few weeks ago, I never let myself think much about being with Tom. I was still working very hard at suppressing every single feeling I have for him, and even when I did allow myself to think of him as something more than my friend, I certainly never let my mind linger on the seemingly mundane things, like just lying next to him in bed. Honestly, though…it feels nice.

I stretch up just a little and press my lips to his, keeping it gentle. If he needs time, then that's what he'll get. I can do that for him.

His hand slides under my shirt again, his fingers spreading out across my back, and I marvel for a moment at just how large his hand actually is. It manages to span most of me, his long, elegant fingers almost reaching up to my shoulder blades. Objectively, I'm sure that's one of the things that helps to make him such a good pilot, but my overly-sensitive and at times delicate human half can't help but feel warm and protected by it.

"You told me once that I've never been hard to get," he says softly, trying not to disturb the quiet that has settled on my quarters.

I blink at him, puzzled. "I did? When was that?" He lifts his eyebrow at me and waits, and it doesn't take long for me to figure it out. Sakari. Everything happened on that damn planet, and even to this day, most of it is a blur for me. I do have vague recollections of prowling around him, throwing his attraction to me back in his face, so the fact that I essentially called him easy doesn't seem that far outside the realm of possibility.

"Why do you even put up with me?" I mumble, looking away, completely ashamed.

He takes my chin in my hand, lifting my face back to his. "It wasn't you, B'Elanna."

I shake my head, feeling humiliation wash over me again, the emotion so strong and fierce that I can feel myself blushing. I never blush. "Tom—"

"It wasn't you," he repeats emphatically.

"I am aggressive," I argue. "And sometimes, I can be a huge jerk."

"So what? I know you're aggressive, but you're not usually violent. I can be a jerk, too, you know. But I know that your more…frantic moments that day were because of a chemical imbalance. There were things that were said and done that were in the heat of the moment. Besides, it's not like you said anything that wasn't true. I guess I just didn't know that you knew that I was that interested in you." He shrugs, looking a little embarrassed himself. "The only thing that was said in those caves that wasn't true was that I'd let you go insane rather than help you. I wouldn't have. I just couldn't bear the thought of you hating me for taking advantage of you. I mean, when Tuvok said it was do or die, I stepped up. I was willing and able."

"I bet you were," I mumble, though it's good-naturedly.

"I still hated the thought of you despising me afterward, but it was better than you being dead."

"Tom," I whisper, ignoring the sentiment as best I can. "What if that was the real me?"

"I doubt it. That was more like the part of you you've been repressing for so long that it finally came bursting out. I think the real you is somewhere between that woman on Sakari and the one the rest of the ship sees. But, if that was the real you, well, I really don't care as long as you let me stick around. Just don't throw me out an airlock and I'll be happy."

I want to argue with him. I want to call him a liar, but I know he means it. I don't know why I want to fight him so hard about it. Maybe it's just second nature at this point. Maybe I'm so used to pushing people away that I can't accept that anyone could actually care about me, despite or even because of my flaws.

I almost make myself laugh with that one. Maybe I'm used to pushing people away? I'd say that's a given. It was that revelation that made me realize I had to tell Tom how I felt before we died.

I pull him in for another kiss, running my fingers through his short, soft hair. I really do love him. I love him more than I imagined possible. Instead of trying to push him away, I need to remind him of that as often as possible. "I interrupted you," I finally say, wiggling closer to him. "I'm sorry."

He looks just a little dazed, his lips slightly swollen from so much kissing. "Huh?"

"The part about not being hard to get?"

"Oh. Oh, right. Anyway, all I was saying is that you were right. I've never put up much of a fight with women, especially if one showed interest in me. I never had to put much effort into getting a girl before."

"So...I was a challenge."

He shifts just a little closer, actually kissing the tip of my nose. "Yes, but not in the way you're already thinking. You weren't just a dare for myself. I would never pursue anything the way I've pursued you for the last year unless it meant something. Believe me, I did a lot of soul searching about you. I kept asking myself if the reason I wanted you so badly was because you didn't just fall at my feet but…that's not it."

"Then what is it?" I ask, curiosity genuinely piqued. He looks away, shrugging a little, and it finally occurs to me that this is hard for him, too. He's not the sort to usually open up and talk about his feelings, probably because his Starfleet Admiral father wouldn't allow it. I put my hand on his cheek and gently turn his face back to mine. "You can tell me anything." He can; I hope he knows that.

He contemplates me for a few seconds, and I can actually see a war being waged across his face. "Look, I chased you for so long because I realized that the thought of living without you makes me sick to my stomach. Because even when we're fighting, I've never been happier in my entire life. Because I jump out of bed every morning on the off chance that I can spend a few minutes with you, and because I hang around Engineering when I'm not supposed to just so I can talk to you. Because when you smile at me, my stomach feels like it's dropped to my knees. Because when you kiss me, I get dizzy and that's never happened to me before. Because the thought of being with anyone else holds no appeal for me, and the thought of you being with someone else makes me want to tear the universe apart. I know that's probably too much to throw at you right now, but…" He shrugs helplessly, and he looks lost, like he doesn't know where to go from there.

I wrap my arms and legs around him, pulling him in close to me. "I feel the exact same way," I reassure him.

"Really?" he asks, sounding shocked.

"Yeah. I don't think I would have encouraged you quite so much if I didn't feel those things, too."

"That was encouragement?" he teases, and I squeeze him playfully.

"You kept coming back, didn't you? Besides, I don't think there's anyone but you who'd put up with me."

He pulls away from me suddenly, shaking his head as he sits up. "I don't want you to be with me because I 'put up' with you. I don't want you to settle for—"

"I'm not settling for anything," I interrupt, pushing myself into a seated position next to him. "I fell in love. I don't do that, at least not easily, and it's definitely not something I'd ever say and not mean. Know that I love you, Tom—stupidly, blindly, and completely."

He remains silent, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, and I can't help but be amazed that Tom Paris, of all people, is this insecure of my feelings toward him. I guess it makes some sense—it's not exactly common knowledge, but he's not nearly as confident as he'd like everyone to believe. Maybe that's one of the reasons we were able to become friends—we're both imposters.

I let out a big, deep sigh and grab his hand, sliding my fingers between his. "This is not how I pictured tonight going at all."

He shrugs, his fingers tightening around mine. "It's probably all stuff we should talk about, though."

"I'm sure it is. I still never thought we'd be…like this."

"We're not fighting," he answers, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. The side of his mouth quirks up just a little. "That makes for a nice change, right?"

"You're the worst," I tell him, nudging his shoulder with mine. "Look—I'm in love with you. Simple as that. I just can't help but be amazed that you are willing to put up with me, despite how awful I can be. You're always willing to fight with me, you give as good as you get, and somehow…you never hold it against me. You really are the only person who would think I'm worth all this effort."

"If you love someone, none of that matters. It's just part of the adventure. Anyone who's not willing to deal with all of the ups and downs doesn't deserve you." That's the first time he's said something that sounds close to an admission of love and, heaven help me, my heart races. I don't think I was lying to myself earlier; I don't need to hear him admit his feelings right now. But part of me can't help but hope that he doesn't make me wait too long for it.


*A/N…you know, considering this show has been off the air since 2002, there seem to be a lot of you reading this fandom. That's awesome. I really wish I'd been able to write this stuff back when I'd first watched, though. I suppose I didn't have the words at that age, though, nor the skill set. Still, it's really bad ass that this show still has a fan base. I imagine you're all beautiful, wonderful people. Thanks for reading!