Working title; Catharsis

Veronica Jane Williams

xkhoi@iafrica.com


Warning: In order to understand the important references in this story,
it is advisable that you read THORNS AND THISTLES first. CATHARSIS is a
direct sequel to that story.


DISCLAIMER

The characters belong to Paramount. I borrowed them to write this
story; however, some of the characters were created by me, most
notably Elizabeth Rowena Paris. She's mine and I'm proud of her.

Music: Camille Saint Saëns - Symphony No. 3 in C Minor. For the
fundis out there, it's the famous organ symphony, the second
movement which formed the recurring theme in the film BABE.

For the faint-hearted, and all the under eighteens, simply move
on, as this story contains scenes of explicit/sexual/erotic nature
between consenting adults.

RATING: NC-17


CATHARSIS

Beads of sweat formed on her face and neck as she strained herself 
against Tom. His body was heaving rhythmically on top of her. It felt 
so good to feel him moving inside her. Her legs parted wide, drawn up
slightly so that he thrust deep in her. She wanted to let go, just 
giving him pleasure for pleasure. She arched her back and pushed her 
hips into him, feeling close to the edge, but lingering there. She 
moaned, tossing her head, her breathing erratic. His hands cupped her 
breasts, to start kneading them with his fingers. His mouth was 
centimetres above her own. She could feel his breath. 

"Kiss me, B'Elanna," he commanded.

She complied, sought his mouth and plunged her tongue inside. He
moaned into her. She tasted him, moving her tongue around in his
mouth, tracing his teeth. He returned the kiss; the sensation is
electric as he moved against her, at the same time, tugging her
lips with his teeth, nipping, sucking. Her body felt alive, on
fire. Her arms were outstretched on the bed, her hands clutching the
sheets convulsively, the knuckles white with the strain of it as she 
tried to remain in control. Threading his fingers through her hair, 
he kept her mouth locked to his, willing her to open wider. Tom's 
strokes were lazy at first, pushing and pulling slowly in her sheath, 
as he tried to establish a rhythm with her.

"Come on, B'Elanna, move with me," he pleaded.

Somehow she became disconnected with Tom's movement in her, even as
she felt his shaft thrust deeply inside, and her legs moved up and
around his waist. He groaned then, feeling the pleasurable sensation
as she clutched him, hips still lifting to meet his. She could hear
Elizabeth's breathing through her commbadge on the nightstand. She 
was still sleeping with a tiny transmitter lodged behind her ear. 

"Touch me, B'Elanna. I want to feel your hands on me," he grunted
as his strokes became faster, unable to wait for her and trying to
hold back. His mouth on her, he plunged deeply, matching his tongue's
thrusts to his hips pounding into her. She tried to caress his back,
tentatively splaying her fingers over his taut back muscles.

"I can't wait, B'Elanna, come with me." She raised her hips again
into him, he grabbed her buttocks and pounded into her. She growled
then. He felt himself reaching dangerously close to the edge, coaxing 
her, wanting to take her all the way. Then he was lost. He gave one 
final, heaving thrust, then exploded into her.

"B'Elanna!!" he screamed as he went over the edge.

Tom collapsed on top of her, his face now buried in her neck. For
a long time he stayed like that, still erect inside her. Still
feeling unsated. Her hands slowly dropped from his back, to rest
limply at her sides. She turned away, not attempting to caress
him in the aftermath of their lovemaking.

"Angel," came his muffled voice in her neck.

"Yes?"

"Why did you fake it, Angel?  Again?"

He felt the almost imperceptible way her body stiffened beneath him.
She tried to move away, but he kept her pinned beneath him.

"I - "  she frowned, "don't know..."  Then she whispered: "it's been
difficult... lately."

Tom closed his eyes a second, held her face and forced her to look
him in the eye.

"Sweetheart, it's been difficult a lot longer than lately. What's
going on, B'Elanna? What's the matter?"

"Nothing, Tom... Let's sleep now, please..."

"Angel..."

"Please Tom... I'm tired."

For a second Tom felt like grinding his mouth into her, to give vent
to his mounting anger and frustration, but restrained himself.
Knowing his inquisition was leading him nowhere, he stopped, rolled
away from her, on to his back. He sighed. Within minutes B'Elanna
was sleeping, her back to him, her stance clearly saying she wanted
no contact.

Tom lay awake most of the night, deeply puzzled by his wife's
behaviour. She was not responding to him, hasn't been for a long
time. Sexual intimacies like what just happened, becoming something
of a rarity. He long ago stopped being too demanding, not wanting to
become too wild, in that respect always taking her lead. But now, it
left him unfulfilled, his appetite not satisfied, not by a long
chalk. He considered himself to be a very virile man, and knew that
that B'Elanna is as sexually voracious and hungry as he is, most
of the time. It needed only a touch, a brush of the lips, her hips
grazing his as he walked past her in a corridor, a suggestion even,
to set them aflame with desire. Hell, she could smell him a mile
off. It had never abated. He enjoyed thinking the whole day how he 
would be making love to her at the next best opportunity, and he 
knew she did too. On such days their lovemaking would always be very
intense. So intense, they would end up in sickbay to let Doctor
tend to their wounds and bruises. That medic has become blasé about
their antics.

But now...

He sighed again, turning on his side, facing away from her and tried
to sleep.

******

He was awakened suddenly when two small elbows thumped into his
stomach, winding him. Elizabeth jumped up and down on the bed,
bouncing high, and squealing loudly.

"Come on, Daddy. Wakey wakey," she shouted.

Tom jerked up and grabbed Elizabeth around her little waist, and
kissed her. She squealed happily.

"Morning sweetheart," he said as B'Elanna entered the room, dressed
for duty. She sat down on the bed next to him. Reaching forward, she
kissed him. He held the back of her head, wanting to prolong the
sensation. But Elizabeth demanded her kisses too, which had both
parents taking turns in planting kisses on her cheeks. Tom looked
questioningly at B'Elanna. When had she become so evasive?

"I'm sorry, Tom. I have to be going or I'll be late for duty.
Elizabeth's been cleaned and dressed." She kissed him again, briefly,
before getting up to make a hasty exit.

Tom felt the old frustration welling again inside him. He got up
and showered quickly, mindful of Elizabeth's propensity for turning
everything upside down, and hiding his boots, his badge. Kids!
He was taking her, Naomi and Jamie, to the holodeck this morning
to play in the playcentre which he programmed for the children.
It included sand pits and swings, apparatus to climb to their
hearts' content. They loved playing there. Although he made sure
there were always at least two crew members present. Today he'll
be accompanied by Magnus Rollins whose baby son Grant is now only
six months old.

Some fifteen minutes later he and Elizabeth left their quarters
for the mess hall, where they were going to try Neelix's breakfast.
He was still wondering what to do about the latest problem he
and B'Elanna had.

********

Tom was on the holodeck with the children, sitting on one of the
seats and watching baby Grant, while Magnus pushed Jamie and 
Elizabeth on the swings. As always, Elizabeth wanted to be pushed 
higher, and Jamie, not to be outdone, wanted the same. It was a happy 
scene. Baby Grant was secured in a tiny baby swing, which Naomi was 
pushing gently to and fro, making him squeal with delight. 

He looked at the happy baby, excitedly thrashing his chubby arms 
about, and wished... 

He and B'Elanna wanted more children; both of them hadn't been on any
boosters since Elizabeth was three months old, hoping she would fall
pregnant again. Yet... he sighed.

He wondered idly if one's state of mind can induce such levels of 
stress as to prevent them from becoming pregnant again. B'Elanna had 
neatly succeeded this morning in evading direct eye contact with him, 
as if she knew he would confront her about last night. 

*******

Two year old Elizabeth Rowena Paris was undoubtedly her parents'
darling. Playing in the nursery or on the holodeck with the other
children - she liked to play with Naomi Wildman, who was half Ktarian
half human, and three and a half year old Jamie, who was the son of
Lieutenant James Hamilton and Ensign Rue Strong. Jenny Delaney finally
made up her mind and married Magnus Rollins, who had been a widower
when Voyager left the Alpha Quadrant. Their baby was now the youngest
on board Voyager, and still too small to play with, Elizabeth pouted.
She so much wanted to play with Grant, but he slept most of the time.
She was sure she didn't sleep half as much as he did.

Her Mama said she liked to sleep on Daddy's chest. She still likes to
do it. She can hear a loud thumping, which he said is his heart.
He told Elizabeth she was his saving grace, just like Mama. She 
didn't know what that meant, but it sounded nice. Sometimes Uncle 
Neelix would tell her, Jamie and Naomi: "You are a lot of trouble."  
And that sounded not so nice.

She sits on Naomi's lap and plays with the only toy she plays with
these days: her very own model of the Phoenix, which her Mama had
replicated for her. Mama wanted to give her a toy for her birthday,
so she let Elizabeth decide by looking at pictures of toys in
Voyager's database. She had taken one look at the Phoenix and made
her decision.

"Look Mama, I can fly like Daddy."

Mama looked at her strangely, then said:

"Very soon, sweetheart, Daddy is going to fly us home. Then you can
meet Grandma and Grandpa Paris."

Naomi was already starting school, which is run by Uncle Tuvok. She
asked Naomi what school was and Naomi answered:

"It's where you learn to become an engineer like your Mommy or a
pilot like your Daddy."

Elizabeth decided that that was the thing she would ask her Mama
about. To join Tuvok's school. Because she was going to fly like
Daddy.

******

When Tom and B'Elanna arrived that evening, Samantha Wildman was
waiting for them. At almost six years old, Naomi Wildman was
already tall and rangy, with a maturity beyond her years. She was
dancing excitedly next to her mother. Hugging Naomi's legs, and
clutching possessively her precious Phoenix, was Elizabeth. They
took in this scene, a little surprised that Elizabeth had not as
usual barreled into one of them.

"Go on Naomi..." her mother coaxed. Ask what you asked me."

Naomi looked shyly at Tom and B'Elanna, then decided to be brave:

"Can Elizabeth come sleep by me, Aunt B'Elanna?"

Elizabeth looked equally anxious, awaiting her mother's answer. And
B'Elanna and Tom, who thought that Elizabeth would never tire from
sleeping on her Daddy's chest, decided to let Elizabeth sleep over.

Tom bent down until his eyes were level with Naomi's.

"Er...Naomi," Tom said, a note of warning in his voice, "you know
Elizabeth can really throw a punch sometimes. I think I should warn
you."

"Don't worry, Uncle Tom. Elizabeth backs off when I show her these,"
and Naomi pointed to the tiny horn-like nodes on her forehead. My
Mom says it's okay, if you don't mind," this very wise child added.

Samantha looked indulgently at her daughter, then at Tom and B'Elanna.

"You have to know that these kids make their own arrangements. We
adults have to fall in with their plans. I'll bring her myself to
the nursery in the morning, if you don't mind."

And little Elizabeth, when asked by her doting parents if she wanted
to sleep over at Naomi's, just nodded vigorously up and down, like
she always does when she's excited.

"We'd appreciate it, Samantha," Tom piped in before B'Elanna could
say anything. "I'm working on the new navigational systems we
installed recently."

If that wasn't a bald faced lie, then I'm no angel, B'Elanna thought,
the idea of spending the night alone with her husband suddenly very
appealing. Yet... she sighed inwardly, knowing how the evening could
develop, and feeling also a little apprehensive. She just sensed
Tom wasn't going to stop questioning her. She didn't want
confrontation. Not yet. Not tonight.

************

Tom Paris silently thanked Sam Wildman from the bottom of his heart
as he escorted his wife to holodeck two. It was a rare opportunity
to spend the next twelve hours together, in complete solitude, with
no distractions - heaven knows, raising a boisterous two year old
is no picnic, he admitted ruefully.

Chakotay misses nothing, he thought, after approaching the first
officer with his request. He didn't fail to notice Tom's resolve and
the seriousness with which he approached his superior. Chakotay was
not averse to granting such requests, perhaps because he, now
married to Kathryn Janeway could appreciate such moments of
togetherness - away from curious glances, kindly snickering or just
general distraction. Tom wondered absently whether Chakotay hadn't
approached Sam - it all seemed a trifle too suspicious. Knowing
how Elizabeth sometimes seemed to be joined at her mother's hip -
or his, for that matter.

He meant to have this confrontation with B'Elanna. It has been two
years now; in fact, since Elizabeth's birth. He had been patient
long enough, giving her as much space as she wanted, as much time
she needed, to come over the trauma of his shuttle crash and
the trauma with which Elizabeth came into the world. He was
frustrated as hell - although being careful not to let B'Elanna sense
that something was bothering him. And it bothered him like mad,
because he thought that their marriage and relationship was beginning
to suffer as a result of it. She has been consistently trying to
avoid direct confrontation with him, neatly evading the issue.

If B'Elanna didn't know herself that her behaviour begged discussion,
she must be blind and deaf to his feelings. And he doubted that.
This was B'Elanna who could pick up his scent a mile off. Who was as 
attuned to him as he was to her. She must know her behaviour is 
bothering him, even if he tried to hide it.

"Where are we going?" B'Elanna asked, her curiosity aroused.

"The holodeck," was Tom's response.

"Tom-I'm-famous-for-my-dirty-tricks-Paris, have you got something
nasty up that sleeve of yours?" She was walking with her arm around
his waist, a certain excitement taking hold of her.

"Patience, my sweet Angel," Tom whispered in her ear as they
approached the holodeck.
 
"Computer, access program PARIS DELTA ONE."

"Is that a new - "

Before she could finish, the doors of the holodeck slid open. Tom
stood behind B'Elanna, ready to block her path in case she bolted.
Then he engaged the privacy lock.


B'Elanna drew in her breath sharply, stepped back and found Tom's
hard body. He clasped her upper arms, and gently urged her forward.

"Tom, in the name of Kahless, how could you do this to me? How
could you?"

Tom could hear the rising panic in her voice as she turned to face
him. She was deathly pale. He closed his eyes briefly at the awful
distress he witnessed on her face, and wondered whether he should
pursue this. He placed his hand over her mouth to stifle the first
scream he could feel was coming.

"Angel, believe me, if I knew any other way to do it, I would. But
I have run out of options. This is it." Taking his hand slowly away
from her mouth, he continued:

"Believe me when I say it's necessary if we're to have a greater
understanding, intimacy and trust back in our lives."

His eyes begged her to understand that what he was trying to do,
was a last desperate attempt to get at the heart of what is busy
causing a rift in their relationship.

He was embracing her comfortingly in his arms now. He could feel
her starting to breathe erratically. If she starts hyperventilating
now, he's had it. Almost hypnotically drawn B'Elanna turned to take
in the scene before her.

For there was the sickbay, on the day Tom had been brought in,
critically injured and after she had given birth. On the biobed the
holographic Tom was lying, in a little crib was the sleeping baby
and on the adjacent bed lay an exhausted B'Elanna. It was bizarre.
Tom had bizarre ideas. She could feel herself becoming sick, and
tried to hold back the nausea.

She turned again to Tom, the appeal clear in her dark, troubled eyes.

"Please... don't do this me, Tom," her voice came on a whimper.
"You don't know what I went through," she stammered.

"And that seems to be the crux of our problem, isn't it? That I don't
know what you went through. Because, in a manner of speaking, I 
wasn't there, B'Elanna." He was holding her arms, and tried to edge 
her toward the three figures.

Before he could continue, the Doctor appeared.

"Lieutenant Torres," he said as he saw the distress on B'Elanna's
face, "your husband requested this. He has consulted me on the
prudence of this idea. Although I didn't entirely agree with him,
he did manage to make me aware of certain problems he has
experienced since the birth of your daughter."

The Doctor smiled, then he continued. "Hopefully it should have the
desired effect. See you in few hours," he said enigmatically, then
disappeared again.

"Tom," B'Elanna begged him, "take me away from here, please." She
was near to tears. "This was the most painful time of my life." He
could see the sheen of angry, unshed tears, which almost broke his
resolve.

He held her firmly by her shoulders.

"I know, sweetheart. I know. But there are things I need to
understand. I have thought of every possible reason, and it came
down to the same thing. Whatever is troubling me, and you, began the
day Elizabeth was born. I can find no other reasonable explanation.
It boils down to this," pointing to the biobed, "here, before us.
Everytime." Tom paused, then walked with her to the biobed, a little
shocked at how he looked after the attack and subsequent crash.

Holding her firmly to him, his fingers clutching her hair, he made 
her look at the injured Tom. It was unsightly. There were 
lacerations and burn marks all over his body. There was still blood 
coming from his ears, mouth and nose. The figure was hardly breathing. 
Tom had sudden empathy for anyone who looked on such a person and 
could not be convinced that he could survive. B'Elanna tried to
look away, but he held her head, and forced her to look. She gasped
with pain as he tugged her hair so tightly, it felt like it was 
giving way at its roots. 

"Something happened here, B'Elanna, that robbed me of the B'Elanna
Torres I used to know. Before Elizabeth was born, I was constantly
aware of the two wonderful halves which made up B'Elanna Torres.
You remember? The one complemented the other. Fused beautifully -
your own words." He held her head so she could look at him. His eyes 
bore into hers.

"We fought, made up, fought, had some really rough and tumble knee-
jerking lovemaking, complete with injuries which good old Doc used
to patch up from time to time."  He paused, his blue eyes piercing
heatedly into hers:

"Look at me, B'Elanna! Look at me!" he implored, as he cupped her
face in his hands as she tried to look away and brought his own face 
very close to hers. She could see the desperation in his sapphire 
eyes, her own mirroring panic and fear.

"Tell me where she is, B'Elanna. Because I miss her. What have you
done with her?" he cried, shaking her head with every word he
uttered.

"Sh-she's here T-Tom. She...she never left." Her eyes were red with
unshed tears.

"No! She isn't. She isn't!"

"Y-You have me. I-I love you - "

His hands on her shoulders, he shook her hard:

"Don't...please, Tom - "

"Angel, do you know *what* I have? *My* wife who no longer scowls
when I *know* I've made her very angry; a wife would rather back down
in an argument I know she could win. You're always at me for leaving
my clothes lying around, and having to pick up after me. Now, you pick 
up after me. Why? Remember three weeks ago when I took Elizabeth with 
me on the holodeck to do a shuttle simulation and I crashed? 
Elizabeth fell to the floor and broke her arm. You had every reason, 
B'Elanna, God help me, every reason to be angry, to let me have it, 
yet all you did was tell me to be more responsible next time. 
I ask you! *Why* don't you get angry anymore?" 

He brought his mouth very close to hers, then ground his lips against
her. She tried to fight him off, but he held her so tightly, making
it impossible for her to move. His lips crushed her, and she opened
her mouth to him involuntarily, her very core searing  until she 
melted into him. He let her go suddenly. There were angry tears 
forming in her eyes. His own eyes were impassioned as he spoke.

"I have a wife B'Elanna, who has become passive in our lovemaking,
not daring to be adventurous, not growling or baring her teeth. Whom
I must beg to touch me!"

His blue eyes were burning, he looked on the verge of angry tears.

"You don't get angry anymore. God, B'Elanna, what have you done
with her? I married a half Klingon. You know my feelings. I want to
know where the Klingon half of B'Elanna is. Because she's gone!
Gone! You've buried her. And it started *here*, didn't it?"

Tom had gone beyond reasoning now, his anger had been mounting. He
forced her head again in the direction where the holographic Tom lay.
Forced her to look at the body, to look at the sick baby, at herself
lying on the other bed. B'Elanna drew in her breath sharply, as
Tom's hands on her head wouldn't release her. Then the dam broke.

She started screaming, the crazed, agonising sound of an animal that
lost it's cub, a wounded animal. She sank down to her knees, her arms
going around his legs, crying, stammering words coming from her,
begging him to have mercy.

"T-Tom...don't...please, I'm s-sorry, Tom. Don't punish me," 
she begged. "Let me go, p-please..."

But he was unrelenting.

"Where is she! Where is she!" Tom demanded, jerking her roughly back
on her feet to look at her, his own eyes fevered with a desire to
understand why his wife had sought to deny her very personality,
the essence of herself, something he had painstakingly and patiently
encouraged in her to be unafraid of showing. And God, that she had
done. She had begun to show, especially to him, her vulnerabilities,
not afraid to be herself, not afraid that he would laugh at her.

"What happened, B'Elanna? What did you do with her!"

B'Elanna, half crazy with grief and fear, her eyes wild, lashed out.
She beat her fists against his chest, punctuating it with stammering
words:

"Y-you were d-dying, Tom. Dying! Dying, you hear me? You have no 
idea. Our b-baby was d-dying. It tore me in half, seeing you lying 
there, lifeless, seeing my b-baby, s-sick and in need."

Her tears, angry and raw, coursed in painful rivulets down her cheeks.

"Something in me died that day, Tom." She sobbed brokenly. "I was
afraid, afraid!" she screamed as she poked his chest, "crazy with
grief and fear that I would be alone. Yes. Alone!"

Tom looked at her, his heart breaking.

"Alone!" she continued. "Without my husband and my baby. Do you
understand?" She looked imploringly at him.

"I saw your awful injuries and wondered how you could survive that.
I-I was afraid t-to t-touch you. I-I couldn't touch you, Tom. There
was no place I could touch you. You had so many injuries. Serious
injuries. I was afraid you'd die, Tom. I didn't want you t-to die!
I-I thought I had lost you forever, that you would never see what
we had created together." She looked in raw pain at the three
figures lying there, then at him:

"That day I wanted to die, Tom. I looked at your broken body and
vowed that if the gods gave you back to me, that I would never, never
want to see injury inflicted on you. I vowed that I would never want
to see your body with any scars put there by *me*! By *me*!"  She 
sobbed quietly now, tears spilling unhindered down her cheeks. She 
looked at him again, saw her pain reflected there.

"I-I know...what I... can become like sometimes, Tom. When I get 
angry. When we make love. I-I don't want to hurt you, or see you hurt. 
I'm afraid. Afraid. Because you'll look like that," and she pointed 
to the holographic Tom.

"I'm afraid, Tom. Afraid I'll  hurt you. I'm afraid I'll lose
you. I don't ever want to lose you."

She expelled a deep sob, and buried her face against his chest as
painful sobs racked her slender frame. He arms went convulsively
around her, her face in his neck. The understanding at last beginning
to dawn on him. He cried with her, his lips against her dark brown
hair, not bothering to restrain the burninng flow of his own tears.

"Oh, my sweet Angel, how you have suffered," he said haltingly. He
bent down to kiss her, looked deeply in her eyes. "B'Elanna, I can't
promise not to die. But I am here. I am alive. Sweetheart, we
are Starfleet officers. We know the risks. You know the risks.
But Angel, if you fight me, scratch me, claw at me, don't be afraid
anymore. I love seeing the scratches and the bruises, knowing you
put them there in an act of love. It's okay to get angry, and not
be scared that we would fight. That was what made our marriage so
precious and interesting, full of colour. Do you know how I missed
feeling your fists beating on my chest? How I missed you throwing
something at me? It's two years now, we can't go on like this. *I*
can't go on like this," he said, his eyes misting over.

He held her very close, kissing the top of her head, his fingers 
rubbing her scalp, knowing how it must have hurt her pulling her
hair like that. "I need to have that B'Elanna back. Without her, 
I'm incomplete. Without her, *you're* incomplete. She's the very 
breath of my life. My reason for being alive today. He paused, then 
kissed her again, not wanting to let her go.

"B'Elanna, do you know what I experienced while lying there?" and he
pointed with his head to the biobed.

"I saw an angel. I heard an angel - a beautiful angel who talked to
me. Whose voice kept me alive. The... pain was a fire burning me -
I would go into that dark void where I couldn't feel pain. Then my
angel would rage at me..."  He looked at her and she nodded:

"I knew you were fighting to stay alive, Tom, by the way your eyelids
would twitch everytime."  She hugged him closely, a shudder going
through her as remembered: "when the twitching stopped, I knew you
withdrew into that void where I couldn't reach you." She looked at
him with tearfilled eyes. "I would be angry...yes... scream at you to
keep fighting..." She gave a deep sob again.

"It was your voice that kept me going B'Elanna. That brought me back
from that hell."

"Sometimes, Tom, a tear would come from your eye, a single tear."

"I saw my angel soothe me, cry...I didn't want her to cry. I was
powerless, B'Elanna. Powerless to get up from the bed and help her.
I heard a baby cry, and I could do nothing to calm her crying. 
Nothing. It has bothered me to this day that I was not there when you 
gave birth, endured pain and suffering, coped alone with Elizabeth in 
the weeks I recovered from my injuries. Now that part of B'Elanna is 
gone. The one that could encourage the other to keep fighting."

Now B'Elanna was the one comforting Tom, as she put her arms around
his neck and held him close to her.

"Tom, my God, you *were* there. And do you know how? That tear would
come from your eye, and we would know you were one step closer to
coming out of your coma. You say you heard a baby's cry. It was
Elizabeth. On one day Elizabeth couldn't stop crying, even I was
unable to comfort her. We let her lie on your chest. She stopped
crying immediately, did you know? We knew then she was connected to
you, has bonded with you in a way none of us could define. You 
actually raised your hand to touch her."

"She's my life, like you are," he whispered.

"Even now, Elizabeth is very, very close to you. She could sleep
forever on your chest if she had a choice."

Tom smiled at that. Then he kissed her tenderly.

"So, Tom," she said, "you really *were* there, and you *did* help,
not only her, but your own recovery seemed to speed up after that."

Tom looked at his wife, trying to let the impact of what she was
telling him, sink in. Very, very slowly, the truth of her words
brought a glimmer of hope and peace in his heart. He scooped her in
his arms, not wanting to ler her go, and let the relief flow through
him.

"You were right Tom, that you thought something was wrong...with me.

"It just wasn't you, B'Elanna. I was hurt and confused, not knowing
what was going on and you not sharing your fears with me."

"I am sorry Tom. I was very, very angry the day Elizabeth broke her
arm. But I was afraid. Afraid that we would fight and..." her voice
faltered.

"It's over now, Angel," Tom said softly. "You needn't be afraid
anymore."

B'Elana felt relieved that what she had denied for two years, is
over. She had been insanely fearful of seeing him injured after that
time; had experienced a sense of panic everytime he would go on an
away mission - frightened of seeing hideous scars on his body. She
had been afraid of letting go whenever they made love, not wanting
to see his beautiful body marred.

"Tom..." she tried to get out, but it came in her old stammer. "When
w-we made love...I-I couldn't...couldn't..."  He pressed his fingers
against her lips.

"I know, sweetheart. And I understand now. You became uncommunicative
and unresponsive. Submissive. It puzzled me. But we'll work at it, 
Angel." He hugged her tightly, her face in his neck. "We'll work at 
it," he said again, fiercely.  "Before you know it, we'll have our 
magic back. I swear." 

She was comforted by the knowledge that Tom knew now, understood her
fears, and that he would do everything to guide her through her first
tentative steps of just being B'Elanna again.

Slowly she stepped out of his embrace and looked at the three figures
lying there. Tom held his breath as she took painfully measured steps
to where they lay. She stooped over the crib, stroking the soft,
downy curls of the sleeping infant. Smiling as she touched the ridges
on her forehead. Then she stepped to the biobed. She looked at her 
husband, and Tom nodded reassuringly. She placed her palm on
the sick Tom's forehead, and stroking gently, she expelled a deep
sigh. Then she looked at Tom again.

"Your injuries were too many to count, Tom. I was afraid to touch you
in case I hurt you more. By the fifth day, when Doctor healed most of
your wounds, we were able to place Elizabeth on your chest. She went
all quiet, you know. We could sense everytime you sank into that
hole of oblivion."  She gave another sigh. "The worst was not knowing
whether you would ever come out of your coma."  She was speaking much
calmer now, objective at last about the horror of those nightmare
days.

It was like a boulder was lifted off her shoulder. A relief that she
could begin at last to put this trauma behind her.

Or...? she mused. An idea slowly formed in her head. She walked back
to where Tom had been standing, slowly, her steps more sure now.
Tom could see the new resolve in her carriage. Perhaps the healing
process will be quick, came his thoughts.

We have both suffered, B'Elanna thought. And there is only one way in
which Tom could be certain beyond any doubt that she means to overcome
her fears of seeing him hurt. It's my turn to surprise my husband, was
her last thought as she turned into his arms, and he held her very
close.

"Tom?"

"Hmmm...?"

"What was it you said earlier about scratches and scars?"

"I don't mind seeing them again. Why?"

"Be careful what you wish for, Lieutenant." she replied slyly.
Then she spoke:

"Computer, delete program PARIS DELTA ONE, and initiate program
PARIS THREE.

******

The good Doctor patched them up. As he promised he would. B'Elanna
snuggled closer to her husband in their bed, and looked at his
sleeping form, now so calm and at peace. She touched the bruise just
below his collarbone reverently, gently running her fingers over the
mark, now turning purplish-green, a cut running down the middle of the
bruise. She raised herself on her elbow, and followed her roving
fingers through with a kiss on that spot. She smiled, thinking how he
told the Doctor not to use the dermal regenerator on that one injury.
Saying to B'Elanna:

"Angel, I want to carry this trophy as long as possible, because I
want to remember this night for a very long time."

For a moment she smiled wickedly, thinking how she had really
surprised Tom in Sandrine's Bar, his favourite holodeck creation. All
the holocharacters had been deleted, and the safety protocols taken
off. It thrilled her to see the realization dawning on Tom that left
no doubt about her intentions or their needs. She had seen the mad
gleam of anticipation in his eyes as he held her.

Before he could do anything she grabbed the sides of his head, bared
her teeth, and with a low growl sank them into his cheek. He let out 
a surprised yelp of pain. He drew his hand away and saw the blood. 
She had tasted him and wanted more. But he recovered and pinned her 
against the pool table, trapping her hands above her head. He was 
aroused. She could feel his arousal hard against her stomach.
He bent over her and kissed her on her lips, searingly, then biting
her lower lip as he ground his hips roughly into her. But she was
as aroused as he was and heaved him off her, grabbing the Chardonnay 
2361 from the nearby counter.

"Oh no, not my Chard - " he gasped as she took an almighty swing at
him. The bottle broke as it thumped against his shoulder, renting his
shirt and cutting into his flesh with wine splashed all over him.

"So," he shouted, "my angel has turned into a warrior!"

"Watch your mouth, Helm Boy," as she dug her elbow into his belly.
Tom doubled over, but not before he grabbed her by her hair, thrust
her head back and savaged her mouth. He bit hard into her lower lip
again, then pushed his tongue deep into her mouth. She moaned into
his mouth as he tasted her blood, wave after wave of ecstasy 
shuddering through her. She felt the answering throb between her 
legs, already feeling the moistness in her centre. She pushed wildly 
against him. Their breathing was fast and ragged, their breath
mingling as their mouths locked. Tom pulled down her shirt and 
cupped her waiting breast, kneading it  roughly, then squeezing her
nipple so that she screamed. He caught the other nipple between his
teeth, and sucked so hard on it, she felt the shaft of pleasure
stabbing right into her sheath, expelling her juices from her moist 
centre. Then he began a rhythmic motion against her, his pulsing sex 
pushing into her hips. She could feel herself spiralling out of 
control, as she thrust wildly against him. His mouth was all over 
her - her lips, tugging and pulling, her nipples. She wanted to push 
herself deep into him, to find release. So she strained against him, 
her orgasm fast approaching, her cries becoming ragged, demanding he 
push harder into her, then biting his neck, his cheek, his lips as 
she began to stiffen, raising her hips high into him. With one last 
push Tom sent her over the edge, screaming and still clothed.

Her vulva throbbing furiously, beads of sweat plastering her hair
agaist her face, she came down. There was a low growl from deep in 
her throat. She grabbed his shirt and tore it down, exposing the hair 
on his chest. It incited her, seeing it. Lunging forward, she latched 
her teeth over his left nipple and bit hard. Tom screamed in pain and 
pleasure, yanking her hard against him.  Pulling her head back, he 
sank his teeth into her neck, while his hands ripped the uniform off 
her body. B'Elanna roared her approval as Tom lifted her and hoisted 
her onto the pool table...

The cool green felt was hard beneath her. Thrusting her legs wide 
apart, he lay between them, lifting her legs so that they were
over his shoulders. His hands were on her breasts, stroking her 
nipples, the intense sensation sending little tremours through
her. His tongue, hot and eager, lapped her folds open, licking her
wetness. He made little circles along the edges of her slit, and as he 
plunged his tongue deep into her, she shouted: "Yesss...do it!
Do it now!" He pulled out, then thrust his tongue in deeply again, 
feeling and tasting her nectar. She was hot, her entire lower region 
aflame with desire. She lifted her hips into him, and started moving
rhythmically. "Tom, for God's sake...I'm going..." But he licked 
and sucked, unsheathing her pulsing clitoris as he did so. B'Elanna 
screamed then. His teeth grazed her little pink nub. Then plunging 
his tongue in her slit again, he pushed hard into her, and pulled 
out. He held her clit between his teeth and began flicking his tongue 
over its already sensitised tip. She thought she would die from the 
erotic pleasure he was giving her. He licked her, she was awash with 
her own juices. But she was impatient. She grabbed his hair and 
pulling painfully hard, pressed his head hard between her legs. She 
was raging out of control as she pushed her centre into his mouth,
locking her thighs around his neck. She pounded against him as he 
held her buttocks tightly. She felt the warm, suffusing desire, gave 
a hard shove and tensed into him as she screamed her release, 
crashing thunderously over. She was breathing hard, and for a few 
moments he held her like that. He sucked her release from her, 
revelling in the way she was still pulsing against his mouth.

She pulled him towards her, her fingers clawing long gashes along his
back. She pulled his mouth to her, tasting her on his lips. It sent
her wild. In one swift move she flipped him over and straddled him.
Pinning his hands behind him against the surface of the table, she
threw her head back and growled, then bent forward, baring her
teeth and sank them into his right nipple. Tom bucked under her.
She pulled his trousers away from his hips, exposing his gloriously
swollen and erect sex.

"Mine..." she murmured as her fingers curled around his shaft. She 
held him and started to lick the tip, her tongue moving from the base 
of his shaft right up, then covering him. She felt the pulsing in her 
mouth, taking him in slowly, working her lips around his sex, her 
tongue circling the tip at the same time. "God...Belanna..." he 
managed, he started bucking under her. She sucked on him, all the 
time her lips moving to rub the skin of his flesh, relaxing her 
throat muscles to take him deeper into her mouth. Her teeth grazed 
his skin as she sucked, taking him in deeper until he filled her 
mouth completely. Only then she moved, rhythmically, pulling out 
almost to his tip again then sinking deep into him. Victoriously she 
relaxed her muscles, growled deeply in her throat and sank down on 
him. Tom raised himself up and grabbed her hair. He felt himself 
slipping.

"B'Elanna...!" came his agonising plea as she rode him with her
mouth, "God, no...! B'Elanna, I'm going to - no! Oh yessss!" he
screamed as he released his seed deep in her mouth, lifting his hips
and pounding painfully against her. She felt him convulse, as he 
spilled into her. She released him slowly, her lips licking away his
wetness as she drew her mouth out of his still erect member. She
looked triumphantly at him, lying there exposed to her. She
straddled him, lifting her hips, and holding the sensitised folds of
her vulva open, and sank down slowly, so slowly on his throbbing
penis. Tom knew he was lost now. He held her hands, and without
moving against him, she used her sheath muscles and started squeezing
rhythmically, drawing him in deeper into her, powerfully, over and
over, her head thrown back, deep growls coming from her throat,
until Tom found himself dangerously close to climaxing again. He
grabbed her buttocks, lifted himself, and pinned her under him. On his
knees now, he held her legs apart, his shaft nudging the wet folds
of her slit. She gasped and moaned, her head lolling over the edge
of the table, and she grabbed hold of the corner pockets; with her
knees clasped to his sides, he grasped her hips, held her fast, then 
he drove hard into her, pulling out again and pounding hard, his 
sweating body jerking and thrusting until it became a rhythmic dance, 
their bodies aflame, gasping, sweating, thrusting and pulling with a 
freedom so long denied. They were grunting and growling loudly with 
every thrust. He threw his head back as they both screamed; their 
bodies fused in joyous celebration of their climax.

He had tasted and marked every inch of her wanton body, just as she
had tasted and marked his, in the most elemental and unbounded way.
And she revelled in the freedom to possess his body, and be possessed,
to be so fused with him that it was impossible to determine where one
began and another ended. She almost passed out as their bodies raged
against each other, catapulting them into the storm of their passion,
thrown into that vortex that raced inward to the eye of the storm.
Tom screamed as she drew the agonising seed from his body. Their
climax left them both dazed, their bodies throbbing sporadically
from the aftershocks of their orgasmic heights. Slowly they spiralled
from the heights to a sea of calm. Their laboured breathing now the
only sound in the room.

Gently he pulled her up and towards him, so that they lay side by
side on the table; he was still inside her. Rolling on top of her,
he started to kiss her, so sweetly, his mouth moving in gentle motions 
over her lips, her eyes, her jaw. They whispered softly, tender 
endearments, touched, kissed, laughed, cried. Warm tears of release 
flowed from them, and Tom kissed her tears. 

They lay there, on the pool table, their bodies stil almost
inextricably entwined. Tom lifted his head lazily, a sheen of tears
in his blue-blue eyes and whispered:

"Welcome back, Angel of mine. I missed you."

She responded by kissing the mark on his cheek, saying softly:

"I missed you too. I'm glad to be back. I love you Tom."

He ran his fingers idly over the rise of her breasts, stopping at
the nipple, kissing it tenderly. Then he reported to the EMH to
transport them from the holodeck to sickbay.

The Doctor showed no surprise at the state of déshabillé‚ of both his
patients, but proceeded to tend to their wounds, raising an eyebrow
when Tom asked him not to treat the gash on his shoulder. Of course,
he was welcome to use the regenerator on their other deep scratches
and bite marks. Holodoc seemed perplexed when B'Elanna talked of
trophies and Tom remarked on their sentimental value. "Predators!" he
huffed as he transported the two of them, for want of decorum back
into their quarters.

B'Elanna sighed. She had not felt so complete in a long, long time. 
Turning drowsily into Tom's arms, which he naturally curled around 
her body, spooning her against him so that his hand cupped her breast, 
he whispered sleepily:

"I love you, Angel."


DIE EINDE

This writer would love some feedback.


Look out for next story in my canon of stories: REFLECTIONS.