I've gotten so much enjoyment from the P/T Collective stories -- how nicefor the opportunity to "give a little back" and share something of my own!Disclaimer: Paramount Pictures owns Star Trek and all the charactersmentioned herein. No copyright infringement is intended. This story contains graphic descriptions of sex. You have beenwarned. Feedback is appreciated -- send roses or brickbats toredshoes@ix.netcom.comAuthor's notes -- Like many, I've succumbed to the charms of Tom Parisand B'Elanna Torres, and the episode "Blood Fever" was a revelation.I've been watching "Star Trek" since 1967 and I can't remember everseeing so much electricity and sexual tension in a Trek episode,particularly between two regulars (even more so than Janeway andChakotay, and *they* certainly have chemistry between them). Thisidea grabbed hold of me and hasn't let me go till I got it down onthe computer, distracting me mightily from finishing the next part of"Letters from the Delta Quadrant" -- which I *swear* I'm stillworking on! Extra special thanks to my beta readers, Pam, Jeff and Janet, withoutwhose insightful commentary, this story would still be a shapelessmess. If I've misspelled anything or committed any egregious canonerrors, it's my fault, not theirs. And I'd be fiddling with it yet,but after seeing the preview for "Day of Honor," I finally worked upthe nerve to let it go. I acknowledge with some envy Lisa Klink's stellar words for "BloodFever," many of which I've shamelessly borrowed, but the look insideTom's head is my own interpretation. I'd also like to laud RobertDuncan McNeill and Roxann Dawson, the talented actors who bring Tomand B'Elanna to combustible and charismatic life. For the pleasure ofwatching them on screen, this story is dedicated to them.Torridby Katherine Fritz(redshoes@ix.netcom.com) 9/11/97I have this dream, and this always happens:I'm holding her in my arms, and I lower my mouth to meet hers. Atentative touch at first, and then lips and teeth and tongues beginto plunder in a kiss so fierce I think I will die for the joy ofit. I would swallow her whole if she would let me. Her scentenvelops me like a fog, heady and lush and spicy with heat."B'Elanna," I moan, and it comes out as a benediction, and I losemyself in her embrace. And that's where I always wake up, tangled in the sheets andtrembling, wondering when it was that she began to haunt my dreams.No. Haunting is the wrong word. She's not a ghost, and despite heroccasional gruffness, she's never had a malevolent spirit. When did I begin to love B'Elanna Torres, when did attraction firstturn to desire? I do not know. What I do know is that for the first time in my life,I feel at a loss for what to do around a woman. Now, I'm not a saint.I've known many women in my life. Some have meant more to me thanothers. But I'd never before seriously thought about where I wantedto take my life, in the company of another. I suppose that's whymy relationships have always foundered. Hell, that's probably the explanation to most of my life's problemsup till now -- my inability to make a commitment. To anything. Outside of my love of flying, the only constant has been change. Moving on. New horizons. From my father's house to StarfleetAcademy to the Maquis to Auckland...to Voyager. I've always let people down -- consequently, I've always let womendown. Is it any wonder that my relationships have been so short-lived,and so casual? Sex to me has always been either an affirmation of myown self-worth, or an escape from the hell of my screwed-up life. It'snever been very hard for me to find my way into some woman's bed. Infact, with looks like mine, it's been a pretty easy thing to do. OK, soI've traded on those looks a time or two. More, when I was in prison --but that's another story, one which I may not ever tell.The point is, I've never known a woman like B'Elanna Torres. Maybeit's her strength of character, maybe it's her spirit. Maybe it'sher Klingon blood. Or her intelligence. Or her beauty. Or hereyes. Or all of it put together. I'm really not sure. All I know isthat I want her, but not only for her body. I want her friendship,I want her confidence, I want her trust. I want to protect her. I want to love her. I could watch her for hours -- watch hersinewy grace, her fluid movement, her eyes when they light up withthe answer to a problem, that sexy voice that shoots straightthrough me like an electric shock. She's got a mind like a steel trap, and my brain turns to mush aroundher. When we're not on duty, half the time, I start to babble,nothing but wisecracks and foolish banter. I try to cover, but Ifeel like an idiot. She doesn't suffer fools gladly. More than oncein the past, she's told me I was a pig. Or worse. And I know that Ihave been.Maybe that's why, in my dreams, I'm always trying to warn her off.Something. Why do I not feel good enough for her? Easy question. Alie nearly wrecked my life -- and to Klingons, honor is all. To aKlingon, I lost my honor when I lied at Caldik Prime. How can I expecther to forgive me for that, when I have trouble forgiving myself?I suppose that's why I never expected her to take me seriously -- whyI've always fallen back on wisecracks, trying to goad her intodisliking me. Why, until recently, our relationship -- if it could bedignified by that formal a name -- was mainly based on competition.Stupid things. Guy-girl showing off. Adolescent vanity. We've been through some stuff together, though, and it's not like itused to be. I guess that's when things started to change. Havingseen her through being physically and mentally split in two in thatVidiian prison -- that's probably when she first started to thawtoward me, and where I first started to understand her a littlebetter and realize how complex and fascinating a woman she is. Overtime, it's been a few steps forward, a few steps back. We'd reachedthe level of a comfortable but not terribly close friendship. It's not like what she has with Harry. They're kind of like brotherand sister, Harry and B'Elanna -- heads together, whispering,snickering over secrets, sharing. I asked him once if that was reallywhat it was. See, Harry's my best friend. For the longest time,he carried a torch for his girlfriend back in the Alpha Quadrant,but he's finally managed to let go, decided to get on with hislife here. You wouldn't think so from that innocent appearance,that straight-arrow countenance, but he's developed a roving eye. If I thought I was horning in on his turf, I'd have given up a longtime ago even thinking I might ever have a chance with B'Elanna. I tried not to give too much away when I asked, but Harry, he's ashrewd one. That baby face of his covers up a lot, and not muchgets past him."You like her, don't you." It was a statement, not a question."Harry..." I started to deny it, but those unreadable eyes of hiswere narrowed like searchbeams, aimed at me, boring into me. Idropped my gaze, unable to lie to him. Our whole friendship has beenbased on truth, there was no way I could stop that now. "Yeah,Harry." "When are you going to tell her?""I don't know." I decided to take a chance, admit my failing. "Idon't know how.""You?" Harry was disbelieving.I nodded.Harry shook his head. "Never thought I'd hear that from you, Tom. You poor son-of-a-bitch."I acknowledged this with a shrug. "Hadda happen sometime, Har."I've known her for three years. This has been going on for longerthan I can remember. I've been dreaming about her for weeks. Butuntil Sakari IV, I thought I didn't have a prayer with her. I thoughtshe'd made that perfectly clear. Yeah, despite all my persistence --and until now, if my looks didn't get me what I wanted with women, mypersistence would -- she's turned down every offer I've ever made.Even the most outrageous. Even the most innocuous.Until Sakari.---------------------------------------------------------Pon farr, Tuvok called it. A Vulcan thing, shrouded in mystery. Hewouldn't tell me much. Funny. Tuvok will talk your ear off on justabout any other subject if he thinks you're interested, but on this one-- he turned into a monosyllabic drone. Oh, well.Looking back, I realized she'd been talking a blue streak, and maybewas more brusque than usual, but I chalked it up to impatience and aneagerness to complete a successful mission. She doesn't get tocommand many, and it would be a major coup to pull this one off.Finding enough gallicite to refit the warp coils would make all ourlives easier. But really, I have to admit I didn't have any ideaanything was wrong until she bit me.We were rappelling down a mine shaft when Neelix's piton worked looseand he fell, taking B'Elanna down with him. Truth to tell, when theyfell past me, I thought the worst, that they might be killed in thefall. But B'Elanna's rope held, and it was enough to cushion thelanding. I was vastly relieved to learn that the worst of it wasthat Neelix had broken his leg. By the time I reached them, B'Elanna was already up and raging atpoor Neelix for jeopardizing the mission. My efforts to calm her only made her angrier. And when I set my handson her shoulders to try to stop her from storming off, she exploded."Get your hands *off* of me!" she shrieked. And before I knew what washappening, she lunged for my face, and she bit me, hard. The painshocked me into stillness. "B'Elanna, what is *wrong* with you?" Iyelled.I swear she was shocked, too, her hand over her mouth. But it was onlyfor a moment, then she recovered. "Nothing," she barked. "I'm incharge of this mission. I'll finish it." And she was gone before Icould stop her. ------------------------------------- After I reported in, Captain Janeway sent Chakotay and Tuvok after us.They couldn't beam us out: we were too far beneath the surface. WhileChakotay helped rig Neelix's harness to haul him back up the mine shaftwithin transporter range, Tuvok explained what had happened betweenB'Elanna and Ensign Vorik that had put her in this state. He concludedby saying, "It is difficult to estimate how soon this could become lifethreatening." I was stunned. How could B'Elanna, so strong-willed and spirited, belaid low by something like this? I like physical intimacy as much asany man, but the idea that she could die from lack of it..."mate ordie" always seemed to me more of a ploy by men to get what they wantfrom women. This was...this went against everything I'd ever imaginedcould be true about sex. Damn Vorik anyway. Why couldn't he have justkept his Vulcan hands to himself...or declared his honorable intentionsto somebody else? It actually wasn't that hard to locate her -- we just followed thetrail she had blazed, in search of the gallicite. But I was never sorelieved to see anyone in my life. "B'Elanna!" I called. I couldhear the worry laced in my voice, and wondered if Chakotay or Tuvoknoticed. A smile lit her face as she turned. "Tom! Come here, you've got tosee this." She grabbed my hands and pulled me forward to see thegenerator system she'd found. She was so fixated on her discovery,she didn't even notice the others until Tuvok spoke up, told her weneeded to get her back to the ship right away. Naturally, sheresisted. She was still determined to complete the mission. ThatKlingon doggedness of hers wasn't going away."You are experiencing a condition known as pon farr," Tuvok saidfirmly, as if that explained everything. It finally registered, dimly. "Pon what?""Your emotional balance has been disrupted," Tuvok said with thatinfuriating Vulcan calm. "You may not be in control of your moreaggressive instincts."She looked at me, and I could see embarrassment and incredulity on herface. "I lost my temper," she said, finally. "For a minute. That'sall." The wound in my jaw throbbed. I stood close by, ready...ready forsomething. I wasn't sure what she would do. Nobody said anything,and finally, she said, uncertainly, "Why are you all staring at melike that?""Please come back with us to the ship," said Tuvok.She backed slowly away, comprehension dawning that we were serious. We weren't going to let her complete the mission. "Just...leave mealone." Her voice broke on the last word. Her tone was plaintive;it had a quaver to it I'd never heard before. It made me want to takeher in my arms and protect her. It shocked me to realize I felt thatway. ------------------------------------- After the Sakari appeared out of the rock face, after B'Elannaattacked one and stole his weapon, after the Sakari vanished, takingChakotay and Tuvok with them...an eon later, we were alone again.I didn't know what would happen if the Sakari came back, givenB'Elanna's frame of mind -- they'd already been suspicious of herhostility, even before her attack -- and I couldn't think of anythingelse to do but get out of there, figuring discretion was the betterpart of valor. We didn't have a lot of choice, anyway -- the tricorderwas picking up nothing but us. After accusing me of reading the tricorder wrong, B'Elanna rippedher jacket off, and stood there in her gray undershirt, and refusedto move on. Her face was flushed and her chest was heaving from theexertion of attacking the Sakari. I could see the blood on hershoulder where the skin was torn in the fall. "We can't leaveChakotay and Tuvok," she said, stubbornly. My patience snapped. "If you have any ideas how to find them, I'mlistening!" In my anger, I felt like hitting her, but it was only amomentary impulse. Looking at her, sitting there, looking suddenlyvulnerable and on the verge of collapse, my anger melted. I took adeep breath and willed myself to relax. This wasn't her fault. "Wehave to get back to the ship," I said, "and get some help. For them...*and* for you. She rubbed her shoulder and tilted her head. "Why does everybody keepsaying there's something *wrong* with me?" The uncertain quaver wasback. I put on my best reassuring voice, and started to explain, even asI hustled her into the next tunnel. "Tuvok must be wrong about this pon farr business," she said when Iwas finished. She was forging ahead of me in the tunnel now, herrestless energy rising again, despite her obvious fatigue. "It doesn'tmake any sense. "It does explain how you've been acting," I pointed out.She was still in denial. "I don't see what's so strange," sheinsisted. I laughed, cynically. "How about starting a fight with a group ofarmed aliens, shouting at Neelix, giving me *this*?" I gestured atthe wound on my jaw. I paused a moment, thinking of something, thenstarted again. "If I remember my Klingon customs, biting someone onthe face means... "She cut me off before I could say it. "I...know... what it means." She wouldn't look at me. I'd been unable to get her to look me inthe eye for the past twenty minutes. She stopped, and shoved backagainst a wall, slumped slightly. "All right!" she conceded,finally looking at me. "So maybe I do feel something -- some kindof... instinct. What am I supposed to do about it?" The merest hintof the plaintive quaver returned for a moment.I smoothed her hair, squeezed her shoulders. It was meant to bebrotherly, reassuring, but the jolt of desire I felt belied myintentions. "When we get back to the ship," I said, "the doctorshould be able to help." A sudden thought struck me. It amused me-- maybe she would find it funny. If I could get her to laugh, itwould help. "Or there's always Vorik," I teased gently.My attempt at humor didn't work. She shoved past me with a suddenfury, intent on reaching the next passageway. "I am *not* helpingthat Vulcan _pataQ_," she spat out the Klingon curse. "The idea of*bonding* with him -- it's *ludicrous*!" She sounded insulted,coldly angry, but her voice had turned husky, sexy. Something aboutthe atmosphere seemed to have turned up the temperature. I feltflushed. What was happening to me? As we rounded the next turn, we found a rockfall blocking our way."What's this?" B'Elanna's voice sounded tight, frustrated, "Tremor must have shaken the rocks loose.""Well, they're in the way." She unholstered the alien weapon.I jumped in front of her before she could do anything, grabbed herhands. "Hold it!" I cautioned. "We don't know how stable this tunnelis! An energy blast might bring the rest of it down on our heads."She tried to pull away from me, but I wouldn't let her, and we had abrief tug-of-war over the weapon. "Let go!" she shouted. "No," I insisted, yanking at the alien rifle. "I think I should keepthis." She growled and fought back, and we wrestled over the weapon until Ithought she'd wrench my shoulder from its socket."Never," she advised me in a low, threatening tone, "pick a fight witha Klingon." "I'm not going to fight with you," I said, still holding the riflebarrel."If you're not afraid I'm going to break your arm, you should be,"she growled.In fact, I *was* afraid she'd do exactly that, but with a burst ofadrenaline, I pulled it away from her and threw it out of her reach,grabbing her tight by the wrists when she tried to slap me across theface. "B'Elanna, stop it!" I said as commandingly as I could. "This *isn't*about the gun! This is about sex!" I realized I was shouting, andcontinued in a gentler tone. "But that isn't going to happen rightnow." She was so close I could feel the heat radiating from her skin. Shewas feverish. If I touched her cheek, I thought it might sizzle. "Ithink it is," she said, almost purring. Her mood shifts weredisconcerting, to say the least. Angry one minute, the next seductiveas all hell. She grabbed my face, roughly caressing the wound she'd put there. Ithurt. "See, I've picked up your scent, Tom. I've tasted your blood."Suddenly, I felt the heat shooting through me, too, and my jaw didn'thurt anymore. The pon farr explained why her hormonal balance wasdisrupted, but not mine. Was this something contagious? No, Tuvok hadsaid it wasn't. I knew then it was my own desire for her -- nothingmore than pure human lust -- and I knew that I had to fight it. I don'tdo noble very well -- I haven't had much practice at it -- but I had totry. "No!" I said firmly. "No. I'm your friend and I have to watch out foryou when your judgement's impaired." I thought for a second she wouldspit in my face, and she again tried to pull free. "If you let theseinstincts take over now, you'll hate yourself...and me too for takingadvantage of you. I won't do that." She threw off her pack and pressed her back up to the wall, lookingcornered, maybe a little desperate. "Maybe..." she said, "maybe weshould continue separately." She sounded doubtful but her face hadgone tight and set. "No!"She raised her head and looked at me. "You don't know..." she rasped,"how strong...how hard it is...to...fight...this...urge." Her chestheaved. She *was* fighting, I could see it in the set of her jaw, theclench of her fists."Are you telling me I'm impossible to resist?" I couldn't help thejibe, and smiled at her to soften it.A flash of her control returned. "I wouldn't go *that* far," sheground out through her teeth. I smiled. That sounded more like the B'Elanna I knew well. Maybe wewould get through this intact. "Good." I threw her pack at her. "Let's go." I turned to try another corridor, not looking to see ifshe'd follow, knowing that she would. ------------------------------------- We'd been walking for maybe another half an hour. The tunnels werenarrow and hot, and I hoped we were going the right way. My tricorderwas next to useless, and I was trusting to my gut instincts. I thoughtI could feel small eddies of air, but maybe I was imagining it.Wishful thinking. B'Elanna was hardly speaking. "We're almost to thenext passageway. Can you make it?" "Not much choice," B'Elanna grumbled behind me.Suddenly the rocks shifted and began to tumble. I grabbed her arm andwe threw ourselves forward just in time before the wall fell. When thetremors subsided, we came up coughing from the dust. The passage we'dbeen heading for was now blocked off. I shook my head, put on a braveface. "It's all right," I said. "We'll find a way out.""We should use that weapon," B'Elanna snapped. "It's worth the risknow.""I might agree with you if I still had it," I said ruefully, gesturingat the rockfall with my handlight. "It's buried somewhere under allthat." "What!?!" she gasped."Sorry." There wasn't much I could say. It had been either get herout of the way or save the weapon. Simple choice. B'Elannawas...irreplaceable. I knew that now with a certainty. Whethershe'd believe me was another matter entirely. She threw herself against the wall and beat her fists against it inrage and frustration. "Try to stay calm," I said, stupidly, not knowing anything else tosay. This was no situation life or Starfleet had ever prepared mefor. *You* try and sound reassuring in a spot like that, see whatcomes out of your mouth. If it's anymore intelligent, I'd like toknow about it. "I know it's hard..." "You don't know anything," she snarled. She kicked the wall andturned around. "I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin!" Shehunched her shoulders, gnawed her lip, twisted her hands against therocks. "I need to *do* something! I can't *take* this." Withoutwarning, she leaped at me, grabbed at me, knocked me to my back. Asmy head hit the floor, she landed solidly on top of me and...kissedme. Thoroughly.Desire shot straight through me, and for a second, I found myselfclutching at her back and starting to kiss back, then thought, holyhell, what am I doing? I shoved her off and quickly scrambled to myfeet. Moved out of her reach. What was I supposed to do now? My handlight was in her eyes, and she fisted them, shielding themfrom the light. She laughed, and it was a brittle, mocking sound. "You've never been hard to get, Tom." Her voice was bitter as shegot to her feet. I walked a few feet away from her, braced my back against awall, ready to dodge if she threw a punch at me. "Well, I'm making anexception. I can't let you do this."She laughed again, hollowly. There was a feral gleam in her eyes asshe stalked me like a panther. "Oh," she breathed, "oh, but you wishyou could." She circled around in front of me. Her hair was wildaround her face, and there were bits of dirt and flakes of rockscattered in the strands. The light made them a crown, and she lookedmagnificent, a queenly Klingon warrior. I swallowed hard. "All thoseinvitations to dinner. And on the holodeck...the way you would stareat me when you thought I wasn't looking. And get jealous when I'm withsomeone else." She swiped at her mouth with the back of her fist, andthrust her face into mine. "You...can't...tell me you're notinterested in me." I bit the inside of my cheek to still the quivering that had started inmy gut. The dart of pain gave me something to focus on. I couldn't*not* admit it. She had me dead to rights. I couldn't lie. Not toher. "You're right. I can't." "Then...don't," she pounded her fists on the wall on either sideof my head, "push me away." She leaned her forehead against mine.I took a deep beath. If I couldn't make her understand, I was lost."Oh, believe me, I'd like to." I looked into her eyes, tried to findher in there. B'Elanna -- *my* B'Elanna -- not this wild Klingonwraith. This wild wraith who was making my hair stand on end andpushing all my hot buttons. If she kept pushing them, I really wouldlose control. I wanted to lose control. I wanted to stay in control.I wasn't sure I was in control of anything. I was as much at war withmyself as she was. "But I know this isn't really you." I took anotherdeep breath. "You've made it clear that you're not interested. And Ihave to accept that's how you feel. Even now."Something gave way in her then, and she almost conceded, and Ifelt a surge of relief. But then she shook her head, not acceptingmy answer. "No," she whispered. "No, it isn't." I caught my breath. Asudden wild hope leaped in my chest. "I was...I was just afraid toadmit it. You see, I've wanted this for so long." Much as I knew she wasn't herself, that the pon farr had affected herthinking, the words filled me with an irrational hope and a wave ofincoherent desire. Maybe it wasn't just the pon farr. Maybe she reallymeant what she said. Then her lips softly brushed mine. The meresttouch, but it felt like an electric shock. She kissed me again,tenderly. "Just let it happen." The words were breathless and low and sent ashiver up my spine. I started to shake my head, and she followed themovement and kissed me again. I couldn't help myself; I gave in andput my arms around her. Something dissolved inside me. It was like adam giving way. I felt a rush of heat, the flush from my facespreading down my body, all the way down to my toes. I touched mylips to hers, tentatively, pulled back. Her mouth followed mine, wekissed again, pulled apart. It was a beginner's dance - touch, sway,brush, again. My hands came up to her shoulders, held them gently, asI kissed her again, burying my face in the side of her long, lovelyneck, and followed her to the opposite wall. I knew I couldn't keep doing this. My resolve was rapidlydisappearing. I finally pulled back, and put my fingers to her lips,caressed the line of them. Gods, she was so beautiful. I hated myselffor what I was about to do, but I knew I would hate myself more if Ididn't. I brushed my hands over her forehead ridges, swept them down tofollow the line of her cheekbones, trying to memorize the moment, andsaid, as gently as I knew how, "I hope someday you'll say that to meand mean it." A low growl erupted from her chest, then she shrieked with rage,punched me in the chest and threw me away from her. "You'd let mego insane rather than help me!" she screamed, and slid down thewall. My heart sank. "You know that's not true...""You just...stay away from me!" She collapsed on the floor, sobbing.I closed my eyes. This was not how I wanted it to be. At thatmoment, it took all the strength I had in me not to seize her in myarms and make love to her until we couldn't see straight. But I knew Icouldn't do it. Not and live with myself in the days to follow. Notunless I was willing to take the chance of losing her forever when shewas herself again. For I knew it would come to that. And I knew Iwanted a chance at a future. With her. She fell into a fitful sleep, as I tried to clear a way through therockfall. I had to get her out of there. I didn't like the way herbreathing sounded, and her fever seemed to be rising. I rememberedthat Tuvok said this could kill her, and I redoubled my efforts. Theidea of losing her...I couldn't face that. Not when I'd finallyrealized what she meant to me.When she woke, she was disoriented. She couldn't remember where wewere, or what had happened. I was just starting to let the panicbubble up, when I heard the scrabbling on the other side of therockslide. Chakotay and Tuvok. The cavalry had arrived.Only it turned out they weren't the cavalry, after all. The cavalrywas still stuck on Voyager, with communications down, and presumablythe transporter too. We got out of the cavern and back to the surface,but Voyager still wasn't answering our hails. Tuvok took one look atB'Elanna in the light of day, and told me I had to help her or shewould die. I felt the blood drain from my face. I opened my mouth, butnothing came out. There was nothing I could say, so I said nothing,just turned to face B'Elanna. She sat huddled on a rock, her headpillowed on her legs. When she raised her head, she looked shaky andpale. I started to apologize, saying I knew it was not what either ofus wanted, but she stopped me with a hand over my mouth. "Tom," shesaid."What," I said, my voice muffled by her hand.She put a finger beside her lips. "Be quiet." Then she took my handand led me away.Now, I know a little bit about Klingon mating customs. I admit it --when I first realized I was interested in B'Elanna, I did a littlereading. From what I saw, it always sounded to me like Klingon sex waspretty wild. Okay, so it made for arousing reading. But I didn'treally think my bit of recreational reading would ever be anything morethan that. Anyway, that's how I learned what it meant to bite someoneon the face -- it staked a claim, served as a visible reminder to otherKlingons to stay away. Broken bones have also been known to occur. Ihad to stop reading after that. I wasn't sure I wanted to know anymore. Now I was about to find out. I was exhilarated...and terrified.She began by smelling me. No, not like that -- I mean *smelling* me-- inhaling my scent like it was oxygen. She breathed on my fist,suckled my fingers, circled behind me, pulled my collar down, rubbed myshoulders, sniffed my neck, pulled back my cuffs, smelled my wrists andlapped at them like I was a salt lick. Gods, it was incrediblyarousing. "So," I began. I don't know why I felt like talking. B'Elanna's notthe only woman I've ever been with who's told me I talk too much. Iguess when I get nervous, I start to talk. The sound of my own voicehelps drown out the *other* voice, the little one in my head that tellsme how stupid I am, that I should quit while I'm ahead, cut and runbefore I screw up again. I hate that little voice. I'd rather hearmyself babble like an idiot than listen to that voice. One of thesedays, I've got to learn how to make it shut up. "Is this the partwhere you throw heavy objects at me?" Another Klingon mating ritual, orso I'd read. Klingon men read love poetry while their women hurlfurniture at them. Trouble was, I didn't know any Klingon love poetry,and I didn't think Elizabeth Barrett Browning would be appropriate.Why don't Klingon men get to throw things? I could do *that*."Maybe later," she purred."Oh," I said. What else was there to say? It shut me up, for a fewminutes anyway. I wasn't sure what to do, and I told her so. No helpfrom that quarter. She growled and kissed my neck, ran her tongue upunder my jaw. Seemed like fun, so I reciprocated. Brushed my lips upthe side of her neck, tried a little growling myself.Must have been the wrong thing to do. Next thing I knew, she'd hookedher leg behind my knees and flipped me onto my back. Pinned me like abutterfly, my arms above my head. "What are you doing?" she snarled."Enjoying myself?" I sounded dubious, even to me."Then show it!" she growled, and bent my wrists back. I grimaced, asshe lunged at me, then saw her break into a wild smile. I couldn'thelp it; despite the pain in my wrists, I grinned back at her. I had a few tricks myself. When she pressed down to kiss me, I tensedmy arms and abruptly rolled her over, leaned in and stole a kissmyself. She snarled and tried to buck me off, but I pinned her elbowswith my arms, one at a time. She laughed, a sound of pure delight, andI leaned forward to claim my prize. Exhilaration sang through myveins. But before our lips met again, I was hauled away from her andhurled to the side. Vorik. I don't think I'd ever been so angry in all my life. He wasscreaming that B'Elanna was *his* mate. My anger was only temperedwhen B'Elanna heaved herself at him, shouting with rage. Somehow Imanaged to hold her back, or maybe she just let me. I still felt aconnection to her, with what we'd started. Vorik shouted for Tuvok,who came at a dead run, followed by Chakotay, both shocked at thesight of the normally placid ensign boiling with anger and...gods,even I could see it...passion. Vorik claimed some Vulcan challengefor her. The red swam before my eyes, and my anger surged again. Ishouted, "If you want a fight, you've got one!" But Chakotay held me back, trying to calm us. I don't know why itshould be so, but considering his background in the Maquis, it alwayssurprises me what a pacifist Chakotay is. "There's not going to *be*any fight," he said. But B'Elanna had other ideas -- she shoved measide and took Vorik's challenge herself. "If anyone's going to smashyour arrogant little face in, I will!" she snarled. And somehow, Iguess, I'd known in my bones that this was how it was going to have toplay out. Still Chakotay objected, but somehow Tuvok convinced him it was theonly solution we had. And then they were circling each other, Vorikand B'Elanna -- feinting and punching and pounding each othersenseless. My heart was in my throat the entire time. It seemed likehours, but Chakotay assured me it was only a few minutes before Vorikwas lying in the dust and B'Elanna lay collapsed in my arms. Maybe I don't want to learn how to throw furniture.I carried her all the way to sickbay, cradled in my arms, limp like aragdoll. She'd fallen asleep shortly after the fight ended. No wonder-- between the pon farr, the fall down the mine shaft, and the fight,she was exhausted. I suppose I could have let Chakotay do asite-to-site transport directly to sickbay. But I didn't want tolet her go. I felt such tenderness toward her, and worry -- eventhough Tuvok reassured me she would recover completely, now that thepon farr had been purged. She seemed so...so *fragile* after thefight, so shriveled inside of herself and spent. I was reluctanteven to turn her over to the ministrations of the holodoctor, but ofcourse, I did. The doctor was in rare form. First off, he was annoyed, in the waythat only he can be, that Vorik had tricked him into thinking hisholodeck "therapy" had worked. The Doc had created a holographicVulcan mate for Vorik, who after an initial rejection of the idea,had seemingly embraced it, and reported that he'd been able toresolve his pon farr. And I thought Vulcans couldn't lie.The Doc was also annoyed that he hadn't gotten the chance to try outthe holographic half-Klingon version he'd created for B'Elanna. Whyhe thought B'Elanna would want to have sex with a hologram is beyondme. Just because *he's* become "real" to us? I suppose it made a kindof logical, symmetrical sense, but damned if I'd buy it. And B'Elanna'sa hard-core realist -- not a sappy romantic like me. She'd be too busyanalyzing the program to fall for any of its supposed charms -- just asshe'd made mincemeat out of some of the more vivid denizens ofSandrine's that I'd once programmed."Well, well, Lt. Torres," he said, in that prim way of his, addressingher unconscious form. "What havoc have you created for me today?""This isn't her doing, Doc," I snapped. "Talk to Vorik.""I already have," he replied. "He wasn't any more helpful than you arebeing at the moment. And I believe I was addressing Ms. Torres? Atany rate, are *you* in need of any medical assistance?" He quickly rana tricorder over me, gave me a fishy-eyed stare. "Other than thatlovely dental laceration on your jaw -- which Kes can take care of foryou -- I think not. Perhaps a tetanus shot, strictly as a precaution,mind you. So, unless you have a compelling reason to stay here andbother me, Lt. Paris, I suggest you remove yourself to another part ofthis sickbay and let my assistant take care of you. And afterwards, youmay return to duty."I didn't want to go, but I realized I had no say in the matter. I felta new bond to B'Elanna, but despite what we'd been through together, Ihad no official standing in her life, and thus had no "need-to-know" inmatters of her care. "Can you at least tell me if she's all right,Doc?" I asked quietly. Something in my tone must have reached him, for he relented enough torespond with more gentleness than I'm used to hearing from him. "Shewill be absolutely fine, Lieutenant. This is simply fatigue. I justneed to run some cortical scans, confirm that her hormonal levels arereturning to normal, check that wound on her shoulder, make sure shehasn't damaged anything important. She is in the best of hands, Iassure you. Now, please --" he waved me away to where Kes waitedpatiently with the dermal regenerator and a hypospray.I retreated. There's nothing quite like being dismissed by theholodoctor. He simply ceased to note your existence. Must be a sideeffect of being able to turn himself on and off at will. It was atalent I wished I could master. -------------------------------------For awhile, we pretended nothing had happened, B'Elanna and I. Butwhen we ended up in the turbolift, and I realized how idiotic wesounded, chattering brightly like little birds on a wire. I had tostop the pretense. But first I stopped the lift. "Look, this is ridiculous," I began. "We're going to be together onthis ship for a long time..."She cut in before I could continue. "You're right," she shot back. "We have to pretend that the whole mission didn't happen."No, no, that was all wrong. That's not what we needed to do, and Itold her so. "Something *did* happen, B'Elanna," I said. I searchedher eyes, trying to see the passion that had burned there just daysbefore. I was having trouble seeing past the wall there, the oneshe'd re-erected after we'd gotten back to the ship. "Look, Tom," she said strongly. "I really appreciate what you did,what... you were willing to do for me, but as far as I'm concerned, Iwas under the influence of some *weird* Vulcan chemical imbalance,and whatever I did, whatever I *said*...it wasn't me."It hurt to hear my own words thrown back up at me, but that was okay.I wasn't sorry for what I'd done...and for what I hadn't done. But I'dbe damned if I would let her get away with it. I knew what she'd toldme on the planet *was* the truth...her real feelings. I just had tohelp her see it. Like I'd had to see the truth in myself, about howI'd been hiding from my own feelings. We were going to be another 67years getting home from the Delta Quadrant, but life was too short tospend it alone when you knew there was someone who might be willing totake a chance on you."Yeah, I know," I answered. "You're afraid that your big, scaryKlingon side might have been showing." Her face twisted a bit tohear my sarcasm. I had to soften it. "Well, I saw it up close, andyou know, it wasn't so terrible." I caught her gaze, held her eyes. "In fact, I wouldn't mind seeing it again someday."She looked at me. Just looked at me. Then she looked away. Thesilence stretched, but still she said nothing. My resolve wilted. I thought: guess I was wrong. So I conceded. "Computer...resume." The lift started up again, and I went back to the calculations on myPADD. Two can play this game. If she really wants to pretend, okay,I'll pretend. I'm a patient man. But..well, I remember thinking then:I guess it just isn't ever going to happen. But she fooled me again. The lift stopped, and she got out. Shenever looked back, but as she strode away, I heard her say distinctly:"Careful what you wish for, Lieutenant."And she was gone.------------------------------------- Since then, I've gone over and over it in my mind. Everything thathappened. What she said, what I said. What I *wished* I'd said.How I felt, how I *wanted* to feel. How much I wanted it to be *more*,to *have* more. How her fingers caressed my palm. How she hummed whenwe kissed. How the dreams are waking me up at night. I think about her teeth in my jaw, the blood running down my neck. Ithink about the pain of that bite, the strange exhilaration, thestirring in my groin. I think about her hands on my face, her lipsagainst my nape, her tongue swirling around my fingers. I think abouther thighs pressed against mine. I remember the feel of her skin, the sound of her voice, the touch ofher lips. The shape of her shoulders, the curve of her hips, the swellof her breasts. The leaves in her hair. Sweat. Breath. Sighs.I want her lips again, that kiss again, a kiss to satisfy the soul. The heat rocketing down my spine. I've watched her. I've wondered. I've waited.I wonder if she has dreams, too. I see her on the bridge, and in the mess hall, and in Sandrine's, andwe're not pretending anymore, but I still don't know if she realizesI'm serious. We spar, and there's an undercurrent that wasn't therebefore, and I'm trapped in its eddies -- but I'm not sure if I'm alone,or if she's caught up in the maelstrom too. I've never thought of myself as a man ruled by his hormones, butthey're driving me now, and it's hard to stop these feelings. Hell,I'm becoming obsessed with her. But this isn't just about sex anymore.I don't think it is. Love and sex and want and need -- they're allgetting mixed up in my head now.It's a wonder no one else can see it. Harry suspects. He wants totalk to me about what happened on Sakari, but I've shut him down everytime. He must have figured it out. No more motormouth Tom Paris -- Ithink he knows. So far he's had the good grace to keep it to himself.But I see him watching us, and I think he knows. The dreams are coming every night now, more vivid than ever. Lastnight, for instance. It started the way it always has. But thefinish... ------------------------"Paris." The way she says it, low and gruff, makes it sound like athreat. "Tom." Her tone is softer, almost a caress. One well chosen word, and I know I can warn her away forever. 'Don't'will stop her where she stands. That will be all I have to say. Don'tdo it. Don't waste your time on me. That's what I will say. My lipsare dry. I swallow and open my mouth to say it, knowing I don't wantto do it.And I stop before the first syllable can pass my lips. I can't. Ican't do it. I want her with a passion that makes my teeth ache, butI can't say those words either. I know that the next thing she saysor does will tell everything. I close my eyes, open them. A moment only, and she moves. She comes toward me, purpose evident inevery line of her stride. For a split second, I throw my hands beforemy face, remembering the pain of her bite, the blood running down myjaw. But as quickly as that, the panic turns into a sharp adrenalinerush that causes me to hold my breath. When she closes the gap betweenus, I let out that breath in a hiss. She starts to reach for me, but myhands come down, seize her face and hold it there as I look steadilyinto her eyes. She does not blink, and I nearly drown in the velvetbrown depths of her regard. Her hands come up over mine, and shewhispers my name. "Tom..."I lower my mouth to hers. A tentative touch at first, and then lipsand teeth and tongues begin to plunder in a kiss so fierce I think Iwill die for the joy of it. I would swallow her whole if she wouldlet me. Her scent envelops me like a fog, heady and lush and spicywith heat. "B'Elanna," I moan, and it comes out as a benediction, andI lose myself in her embrace. Hands smooth over shoulders, clothing rustles. We kiss and kiss, and Istroke her brow ridges and then she growls against my neck and bites atmy jaw. The pain is sharp but momentary, and arousing as all hell. Myblood rises like sap, and she sucks the wound clean. My fingers tanglein her hair as I suckle a tender earlobe. She growls again, and I suckharder, until she gasps. But I want those lips again, and I seize hermouth with mine. She tastes sweet and hot and rich, and at this momentI want nothing but her. She presses against me, and I push back, and myerection is like steel.Somehow we manage to undress without letting go of each other'smouths. Our lips cling like we're drowning. Our uniforms fall to thefloor, so much discarded red and yellow and black flotsam.Undergarments follow, and then we're naked against each other. I wantto look at her, but I'm blinded by need and so is she. Her arms sliparound my back, hands clutching my shoulder-blades, grasping andopening like tiny butterfly wings. My hands caress her breasts, herbeautiful breasts, so soft and round and full. She sighs and moansas my thumbs tease her nipples to tight buds, all rose and duskagainst her tawny skin. A sheen of sweat glistens in the valleybetween her breasts, and I lower my head and lick it away.We slide to the floor, sinking into the heaps of our clothing. Myhands flow up the ridges of her spine, down the sweep of her flanks,then cup and knead her buttocks. She is all smooth silk, and thecurves fill my hands. She is squeezing my shoulders, caressing mychest, teasing my navel. Her thumbs press against my pelvic bones, andthen she is stroking my shaft, and cupping my balls, rolling themslowly over her fingers, and I could die from this touch. Somehow it'sthe most intimate thing I've ever known. I've got to touch her, got tomove...! My fingers insinuate between her thighs, and thrust upward,and, oh, she is so very wet. I roll her onto her back and cover herbody with mine, feeling her muscles tense and arch beneath me as theridge of my cock presses her belly. Somehow time is suspended. Maybebecause we both know what we are going to do, maybe just to stretch thekeen sting of anticipation. We kiss again, slowly, not fiercely likebefore -- the yearning is back, but it's no less urgent.Then she shifts her hips and I'm inside her, and it's heaven. She istight and warm and wet, and I feel the friction as I thrust down anddown and up and back, and her pelvis is grinding hard against mine asshe thrusts back. She wraps her legs around my waist, and pulls me indeeper. She rakes my back with her nails. I hear a soft keening, andit's her -- or is it me? No, it's both of us, and she urges me to gofaster and harder and deeper and I do, as the keening rises to a wail.I slide one hand between us and find her center, circling her clitoriswith two fingers. "Harder," she growls, "faster," and I do what shesays, and the wail drops to a guttural panting. The air is heavy withthe hot musk of sex, and I dip my fingers into the moisture seeping outfrom our junction and slick them back over the nub, alternating fingersand thumb, fingers and thumb. She stiffens and arches and screams asshe comes, and it's too much -- I drive deep inside her, riding thecrest of her orgasm, riding it hard, and then I'm flying and fallingand a million stars burst in my head, and I come and I come and Icome... ------------------------And that's where I woke up, shattered and sweating and shivering, theevidence of arousal sticky against the sheets. Tonight, I'm going to go see her. I have to. I can't take much moreof this. I need to tell her how I really feel. I want her. I loveher. Sixty-seven years till we get home, but life really is too short.I'll push the door chime. When the door opens, she will see me, andshe'll smile. In my fantasy, she opens her arms in welcome. I willwalk through the door and into her arms, and it will be as thoughI've always been there. I will step into her embrace and enfold herin my own. We'll finish what Vorik stopped us from doing. I know Isaid that it wasn't what we wanted, but I was lying. I want her. Iwant her more than anything -- more than my commission, more thanflying, more than being anywhere except with her. I will kiss herand hold her, love her, and make her mine. But that smile will beall the greeting I will ever need. ------------------------------------- I didn't make it. Too many people interrupted me on the way to herquarters, derailing my single-mindedness. After the fifth or sixthinterruption, I'd managed to convince myself they all knew what I wasup to, and had succumbed to terminal embarrassment. I kept going,though, and finally arrived at her door -- but when Chakotay came downthe corridor and saw me, I completely lost my nerve. In my paranoia, Ithought he had a funny look on his face, like he was about to ask mewhat the hell I thought I was doing, hanging around outside B'Elanna'sdoor. Oh, who am I kidding? He's not a mind-reader, after all! How would theCommander know what I was doing? All it was, was nerves, just nerves.But somehow, after that, I couldn't bring myself to push her callbutton. I'm such a coward. I went to Sandrine's instead. I needed a drink. A shot of theMacallan, neat. Not synthehol -- the real stuff. Sandrine keeps itfor me. That smoky, peaty fire down my throat, that's what I needed.You don't gulp it, you sip. It burns along your veins, purifies thesystem. Feels that way, anyway.I was sitting at the bar, nursing that shot, trying to decide if Ishould stay there and get drunk or just go to bed and never come outagain, when a shadow fell over me, and I became aware of someonestanding at my elbow. I looked up and it was B'Elanna. She'd neverlooked so beautiful. She's always beautiful to me, but this night,because she was occupying my thoughts, she was especially so, dressedin casual clothes, a soft, loose top falling in folds over her slimhips, a long, gauzy skirt swirling down to her ankles. I was trying toremember the last time I saw her in a skirt. The whisky hadn't made mestupid, yet, but I couldn't help the grin I gave her. "Buy a lady adrink?" I said, trying not to sound sleazy.She looked at the drink in my hand, then at me. "What else you got,hotshot?" she said. I gauged her expression. She looked -- hopeful? wary? Hard to tell. Icrooked an eyebrow at her, and her face went very still. What thehell, I thought, go for broke, Paris. I put the glass down, and stoodup. "How about we go somewhere more private." Hell, might as well goall out with my most practiced public face -- confident nonchalance.If I was going to go down, I wanted to go down in flames. A bang, nota whimper. For a long minute, nothing happened. And then she took my hand. "I thought you'd never ask," she said, andscratched her nails into my palm. The sting of it made my eyes waterand my body tingle. And she smiled. ENDKatherine Fritzredshoes@ix.netcom.com