The BLTS Archive - Ghost
by kamaquis (deck9section12@ yahoo.com)

---

Summary: If Tom knew Chakotay. . . and Chakotay knew B'Elanna. . . 
well, it just stands to reason Tom and B'Elanna knew each other before
serving on Voyager. This is a story that is a little canon and a
little AU. There are some bad words in Klingon and Federation
Standard. This is completely Tom's POV. Inspired by BBMAK's song "The
Ghost of You and Me"

Disclaimer: It is okay to post this at BLTS. Anyone else, please ask
first.

Thanks to: Mystery Woman, Birca, and beej for the betas.

---

Tom had never had anything like B'Elanna Torres before.

He remembered it all, her responses, her demands, her sighs when they
made love. That was the problem with being a 25 year old male behind
bars. You had plenty of memories of how it had been and plenty of time
to dwell on it.

*Stop, Tom. Quit torturing yourself. She turned you in. She's the
reason you're here right now, residing in this lovely penal
settlement, while she's flying free out there - free and in danger.*
He felt his stomach tighten at the memory of the firefight they'd been
in. He'd go after her if they let him. He'd find her and this time he
wouldn't let go. B'Elanna had taken something from him; she owed him

She'd set him on fire the moment he met her. Her temper hadn't fazed
him in the least – he'd seen and experienced worse. The fire in her
eyes, her quick movements when angered - he'd been drawn to her.

---
Twelve months earlier on the Liberty:
---

*Nice stern*, Tom thought as he viewed the backside of what he assumed
would turn out to be an equally lovely woman when she finished backing
out of the sensor terminal.

A toolbox with jumbled instruments shot out as she gave it a hearty
shove. He stopped it from zinging across the room with his boot and
continued his admiration as the rest of her emerged from the terminal.
She sat back on her haunches and absently brushed her hair back off
her forehead ridges.

Brown eyes narrowed to a squint as she demanded, "Who are you?"

"Tom Paris. Just boarded. I'm the new pilot." *That ought to put a
twinkle in her eye.* That'd been his experience. *And usually a good
time was had by all later that evening*, he thought.

"Well, you're in my way," she said dismissively. Reaching up, she
pushed a button on the console and spoke louder than Tom thought
necessary, "Malay? How's that look at your end?"

The only sound they heard was static.

"Ghuy'cha."

Tom laughed. He really hadn't meant to – it just slipped out of him.
This gorgeous, small woman with such petite hands and kissable lips
had caught him off-guard with her rough language. He should have been
prepared – obviously Klingon blood ran through her.

"I think you need to get out of here now," she fairly growled at him
as she jerked the toolbox in her direction and started rummaging
through it.

*Oh, this is getting interesting*, he thought. *Where was the soft
smile, the look that said, "You're easy on the eyes, Tom Paris. Wanna
meet somewhere later to. . . talk?*" Tom blinked quickly as the image
of her naked and wrapped around him flashed hotly through his mind.

"Maybe I can help you - I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"You can help by getting out of here. Your station is up at the front
of the ship. You can pilot yourself in that direction, can't you?"

"I might be able to help you here if you'd give me a chance."

Apparently he'd pushed his luck too far. The little Klingon slammed
down the rim meter, heatedly rose to her full height and gave him a
searing glare. "Leave. Get out. I don't need your help."

"It looks like you do." *You need to unwind. How long has it been
since a man slowed you down enough to let a climax roll through your
gorgeous body?*

"I know your type."

"Yeah?"

"You're self-serving, arrogant, in love with yourself-"

"Don't knock it till you've tried it," he said with a wink. Turning on
his heel he left Engineering.

A sharp sound, followed by the scratches of loose tools scattering
across the floor made Tom laugh again. She'd kicked the toolbox.

*What a temper. What a challenge. If we don't get blown up by the
Cardassians, I'm going to have a hell of a good time.*

---

"We've got strong indications of a Cardassian munitions site at this
location." Chakotay pointed to the red square on the screen and sought
eye contact with each member of his crew. "You all know we need this
to work. We've been low on all kinds of artillery for weeks now. A hit
on a site like this could set us up for quite a while. We take what we
need and then let the other Maquis sweep in and gather what they can
later.

"We need this ship in the best condition it has ever been in - quick
responses across the board. Paris has located a nice little hiding
place and we'll give Liberty the best systems-wide check she's ever
had. Everyone takes care of their station. When you are done either
report to me for another assignment or, if you know engines, report to
B'Elanna." Looking around the room, Chakotay gave a brisk nod and
turned to Tom. "Head for that asteroid field."

Settled in the Badlands, with the Liberty nestled close to a large
asteroid, Tom finished the diagnostic at his conn. Verifying the
ship's position and pleased with what he saw, he headed to
Engineering.

He reported directly to B'Elanna Torres without a glint in his eyes.
*All business, ma'am.* "I'm here to check the feed from the drive to
the helm." She nodded and went back to what she was working on.

He'd listened to the talk on board - B'Elanna loved her engines.* She
probably dreams about them*, he laughed to himself. If he won her
respect over them, he would be a step closer to unbuttoning her vest
and sliding his hand over her breast. Flat on his back, he scooted
under the console. Palming the torx extractor, his fingers spread
lightly over the gentle curvature of the instrument as he imagined the
cool metal dome as a warm, pliant breast.* It will be a nice fit.*

So deep in his own thoughts, he didn't hear her crouch down near him
and nearly hit his head on the unit's underside when she spoke.

"I heard some talk about you."

*Damn it.* There was only one kind of thing that followed him these
days. He'd hoped he'd gotten far enough away.* I should have known
though. The Maquis is peppered with former ‘fleeters.*

"So what'd you hear?" It was worth a shot that she was talking about
his sexual prowess. *A man could hope.*

"Some people died – it was your fault."

Tom took a deep breath and briefly closed his eyes at the horrifying
memory of the crash. But closing his eyes never blocked the picture of
the broken ship and the deaths of his officers.

Wearily he answered her, "It was a screw-up, B'Elanna – plain and
simple." Feeling the bile churn in his gut, he couldn't resist shoving
some of it her way for bringing it up. With an edge to his voice he
asked, "Anything else you want to know about it?"

"I just heard, that's all. It seemed only fair to ask you."

Rubbing a hand over his face, Tom pushed himself out from under the
unit and sat up. Her honest words took a lot of the sting away from
the topic. "I guess that's fair since I'm your pilot here. I was a
fool who thought he was shit-proof, B'Elanna. And that anything I did
would turn out fine. I was wrong. And some people who trusted me
died."

Tom rested his arms on his bent knees. "It is rotten to live with
this. I try not to think about it." He looked at the calm on her face.
Surprised not to see condemnation, it made the next words from him
easy to say, "I won't do it again, B'Elanna – nothing that stupidly
jeopardizes others."

"You didn't tell them right away what you had done."

Apparently she wasn't going to let him get away with just an assurance
he wouldn't repeat history.

"No. No, I didn't. But eventually I couldn't live with the heartfelt
‘congratulations-you-didn't-die' from well-meaning people." Tom gently
shook his head as he looked toward the upper corner of the room. He
could see the sad, consoling smiles, the reassuring pressure as people
gripped his arm in sympathy. It had been too much. Better to admit it
all and let everyone see the ugly darkness he lived with inside
himself.

Tom took a deep breath and met her gaze. "So yes, eventually I told
them the truth. And kissed my life as I knew it good-bye."

Lowering her voice, B'Elanna said, "It was an honorable thing to do."

Tom looked at her confused and snorted. *Oh yeah, Klingons and their
concept of honor.* "It would have been honorable only if I had
admitted to it right after it happened."

B'Elanna tilted her head as she considered his words. "There still is
honor in righting a wrong - a wrong you could have let others go on
believing."

"No one's ever looked at it that way." Tom felt some of the tension in
his body lessen. Maybe this was something worth thinking over. Maybe
it'd give him a way to live it with himself.

"Are you about done on the diagnostic?"

"Yeah."

"Make sure you put those tools back where they belong."

As she walked away, he realized he was on a slippery slope. He was
seeing her as something more than a sexual conquest. He actually liked
her directness. She'd given him a gift without realizing it – a chance
to live with what had happened at Caldik Prime.

---

"She's pinned down."

Tom felt his already accelerated heartbeat pick up a new pace.* She?
B'Elanna?* The raid was on the verge of going seriously wrong – and
this was edging it closer to the brink. The site hadn't been as
low-maintained as intelligence reports had led them to believe. There
was more resistance than they had prepared for and it had come down to
a basic truth: either they killed the Cardassians and took the
munitions or died trying.

Glancing quickly to his right, Tom saw unanswered phaser fire directed
at a spot between two rows of containers. The Cardies were shooting at
something. He pictured the schematic of the plan...that something had
to be B'Elanna. If he went along the back wall, concealed by the
crates, there was a chance he could reach her. Tom set out, staying
low and resisting the urge to fire toward the Cardassians. If they
knew he was trying to reach her, they might pin him down too.

He instinctively ducked as what he hoped was a stray shot hit the wall
behind him, bathing him briefly in a red glow. The whine of the
Cardassian arms filled the air as both sides struggled for control.
*Trust the Cardies - even their weapons whine.*

He came around the edge of a container and spotted her sprawled on her
stomach as low as she could get. Tom crawled to her side and covered
her, draping his leg over hers and sheltering her upper torso under
his chest. "Keep your head down," he ordered as he raised his right
arm and began a hard assault on the Cardies. Tom felt the slight thrum
from the phaser as it fired, hitting two Cardassians in rapid
succession.

"Stupid phaser locked down. Piece of Bajoran junk." Tom felt her hair
brush against the open neck of his shirt as she adjusted the settings.
He kept his eyes focused on returning fire.

Then he felt the bump of her head against him as she raised her phaser
directly beneath his and took aim – their arms in perfect parallel.
Three Cardassians slightly raised up and pointed their weapons at
them.

"Strike the panel behind them," B'Elanna hissed. In unison they aimed.
The explosion was sharp and successful. Tom instinctively curled
around her body as the sparks flew and felt the burning pinpricks as
sparks hit his exposed skin. When he raised his head, the Cardassians
lay like rag dolls on the floor, tossed in positions that would have
been impossible if they were still alive.

A hush fell over the room as the smoke from the explosion drifted to
the ceiling. It was over. The others had been as successful as he and
B'Elanna. It had been a messy victory, but a victory none the less.

Tom became very aware of the soft body beneath his and rolled off her.
He rested on his back, willing his heartbeat to quiet and match the
silence in the room.

"B'Elanna! You okay?" Chakotay called out.

"Yeah. We're fine."

The confusion was evident in Chakotay's voice as he asked who was with
her, but it barely registered with Tom. *Yeah, we are*, Tom thought.
She was safe and he was amazed at how much it mattered to him. He
smiled at her and was rewarded with an answering small smile.

---

Things moved at a fast pace after that. A few unplanned lunches lead
to planned meet-me-for-dinners. Tom no longer worked on merely
seducing her, he actively worked on discreetly pursuing her. He could
touch her now – a brush of his hand against hers, a hand at the small
of her back as they walked down a corridor. He knew he had to be
circumspect if he didn't want Chakotay running interference.

---

He had planned on only stealing some kisses when he'd found B'Elanna
under another console in engineering. She responded willingly and
before he knew it they were kneeling on the floor and he fulfilled his
ambition of unbuttoning that soft vest. As his hand closed over the
cloth-covered breast, he was pleased to find she didn't wear a bra.
B'Elanna tossed her head back and he took the invitation to nuzzle her
neck as he unbuttoned the shirt that was a barrier to her heated skin
.Tom brushed his finger against the valley between her breasts as he
released the buttons one by one. She reached down and pulled the shirt
loose from her pants. He seized the breast that appeared and moaned
softly as his lips closed over the aroused peak. Caught up in the
moment, he stroked her inner thighs as he worked closer to the spot
between her legs. Tom was sure she was going to stop him - stop him
and let him suffer with the hard-on that touching her had created. But
she didn't – not while he stroked ever closer to her center, and not
when he cupped his hand between her legs and caressed upward. He
returned to kissing her, their tongues dancing, as he opened the front
of her pants and slid his hand inside. Tom moaned into her mouth when
his fingers discovered evidence of her arousal. Still kneeling, she
spread her legs a little farther apart and gave him better access and
deeper penetration. Using her moisture, he stroked her. He watched her
reaction and listened to her breathing. She was breathtaking in her
response – her eyes half-closed, she seemed as consumed as he was with
what was happening between them - and no more capable of halting it.

Apparently some of the talk about Klingon females was true. He could
tell B'Elanna struggled to stay quiet. He tried to help her by kissing
her open-mouthed, hoping to muffle her sounds of pleasure. He didn't
think anyone was in the room, but he couldn't be sure – he was so
wrapped up in her and what he was doing. She moved against his hand
and actively sought her release. It was all he could do not to lay her
down the rest of the way, tear off her pants and bury himself in her.
To ride with her to whatever precipice she was nearing.

Tom heard and felt the reverberations of the little scream she gave as
she came. Tightly gripping his arms, she stilled and he felt the
contractions that would have been bearing down on him if he'd given in
to laying her down. With his arm still wrapped behind her, he felt the
return of her normal breathing.

*Now what?* Would she be furious with him – had he pushed their
relationship too far too fast? And how was he supposed to go anywhere
in his condition? He'd wanted her to climax – that had been his
wildest hope when he thought of being with her. But in his wildest
hope he'd been inside her.

B'Elanna didn't let him wonder for too long. With a deep, steadying
breath, she opened her eyes and he saw a fire still burned there.
"Again. More. Take off your clothes," she ordered. He tried to comply
quickly and removed his shirt and boots, but when she removed her
clothes, he paused to watch. With a guttural sound, she shoved him
backward. He briefly wondered what he had gotten himself into - and if
he was equal to sex with a Klingon.

Naked, she started to prowl up his body - one hand slid up his leg and
then the other. He didn't think he had ever seen a sight as erotic as
B'Elanna advancing on him. The heat and pressure from each sliding
hand-step raised his desire up another notch. He wasn't sure what gave
him more pleasure – the great view of her firm breasts, the fire in
her eyes, or feeling her hands sliding up his thighs. *Touch me, touch
me*, he nearly demanded as his body tightened in hunger. He knew his
legs were long, but she seemed to take forever to touch him where he
needed her touch.

B'Elanna brushed her fingers against the base of his testicles and
applied firm pressure against his crotch. When she cupped him as he
had done to her, he thought he would dissolve. No longer able to hold
his head up, he lowered it to the floor and cried out as she ran the
palm of a hand up the hardened length beneath his pants, sending
electric sparks showering through him.

A hand clapped over his mouth as she covered him with her body. Her
other hand slid down between them and left a hot trail as it slipped
beneath the top of his pants. His hips jerked upward when her hand
closed around him.* Stars, what she's doing.* He felt his pants
released, shoved downward, and then she straddled him. There was a
fire in her eyes and he was sure she saw the matching flames in his.

She mounted him. And he realized the ridges on her forehead wasn't the
only place a Klingon female had ridges. As she lowered herself, he
felt each inner ridge as he slid deeper into her. It was the most
incredible feeling - like having fingers wrapped around him, but
better. Better because this was hot and wet and every movement, into
her or out, would be a sensual overload.

Her body trembled as she slowly lowered herself onto him and he heard
her exhale softly. He was sure he would come undone as every thought
in his mind ceased to exist except for the knowledge that he had never
been overwhelmed like this. His hands slid up her thighs and settled
on her hips, as his body demanded to be totally merged with hers as
quickly as possible. She grabbed his hands and pinned them down near
his head, forcing him with surprising strength to lie still. She
stopped her movement. Instead of continuing downward, B'Elanna flexed
her thighs and started slowly rising. He pushed against her palms,
trying to find leverage to free his hands. He nearly yelled for her to
stop, to take all of him, but then she lowered herself again and began
the pleasurable acquisition. Each time she took him in a little
deeper. It was all a blur. The memory of the sensations was there, the
visual of how magnificent she looked, holding him down while she drove
him out of his mind - her half-closed eyes and the sigh that escaped
her with each stroke. She was beautiful and moved too slowly for the
demands she created in his body. He wanted her to have pleasure, but
she couldn't expect him to lie there while she used him.

Tom felt something he'd never felt before. The only word he knew to
apply to it was "Klingon". With a surge of adrenaline he freed his
hands and sat up. Seizing a fistful of her hair, he brought her mouth
to his for a possessive kiss. His hand still entwined in her hair, he
whispered forcefully, "Fuck me, or I swear I'll put you on your back
and fuck you."

He didn't know where those words to her came from, but they seemed to
reach something in her. Her dark eyes went impossibly darker. "You
don't know what you are asking for."

"Try me," was all he growled in response as he leaned her back against
his bent legs. Lowering his head to her breast, he sucked the raised
tip into his mouth, swirling his tongue against it. He trailed his
tongue across the valley between her breasts and sought the other
hardened peak.

She cried out and her fingernails scraped against his scalp. As she
held him to her, she began to move on him again. She allowed his hands
to grip her hips. Tom set a faster pace, guiding her body on his and
making each stroke solid and deep. She raised one of his hands to her
face and rubbed her soft lips against the inside of his wrist. The
touch of a moist tongue against his skin surprised him. B'Elanna
lowered her head to his shoulder and Tom swore she licked his throat.
In his hazy mind he registered she was at his pulse points, but it
made no sense and he really didn't care.

They fit together well. Whatever she needed from him, apparently he
was able to provide it, because soon she gracefully arched her back
and tightened her thighs against his hips. A series of low moans
escaped her as she stilled. Slipping his hands to her back, Tom
supported her shifted weight as he felt the first wave of her orgasm
and then was aware of nothing but his own deep release.

He was sure he stopped breathing. He had no need for air. His only
need was her – and the freefall into the depth of pleasure that being
with her created.

---

*What a besotted fool. Could I have been any stupider?*

They'd been together seven more times. Each time she drove him out of
his mind. She'd even bit him – not that he had any substantial memory
of it – but his body had bore testimony with marks on his shoulder and
down onto his pecs.

Thinking of the last time they'd made love made him cringe. It had
been fantastic, incredibly satisfying, and as she settled into his
arms on his bunk – the last thing he said to her before he gave in to
his exhaustion was, "Stay forever."

*Stay forever. How ironic.*

She was gone when he woke up. At first he thought she had reported to
Engineering and hadn't wanted to disturb him. But when he didn't cross
her path all day. . . and she didn't meet him for dinner, it became
pretty clear that on their small ship she was avoiding him. Hoping he
was wrong – that she was just too busy and consumed by her engines, he
went looking for her.

One look into her eyes told him - or rather, the lack of her looking
into his eyes. She had been remote, arms crossed protectively over her
chest. Her body stance had screamed, *I'm not interested. Get out.*
There was fire in her eyes, but not the passionate kind they had
shared. He recognized that look - they were back to where they had
been when he had boarded the Liberty.

He backed off. *What did I do so wrong?*

The next morning he was given an assignment and it turned out to be
his last flight. Someone must have tipped off the authorities because
he had practically flown into their waiting restraints.

He hadn't had a big fan base on Liberty – but was sure he hadn't
ticked anyone off to the extent they would turn him in. Only one
person was that angry with him and he could not figure out what he had
done to make her turn him in.

---

He'd been looking for a fight when he joined the Maquis. He hadn't
expected to fall in love with a woman who didn't want him. Maybe she'd
taken him as a lover because there weren't any Klingons in the Maquis.
*Or maybe I was a change for her. A warm vibrator with a chest and
shoulders for her to cling to. And a mouth to stifle her cries.* He'd
been making love and she'd been stealing his heart. Robbing him with
no intention of returning what he felt.

The hot New Zealand sun beat down on him as he adjusted the control of
the instrument he was working with. Above him a voice inquired, "Tom
Paris? Kathryn Janeway. I served with your father on the Al-Batani. I
wonder if we could go somewhere and talk."

"What about?"

"About a job we'd like you to do for us."

---

*It's amazing how life can change in a blink of an eye*, Tom thought
on his way out of the facility. *You think I'd have learned that by 
now.*

*I'll find you, B'Elanna. The Federation thinks I'm working for them,
but they've given me a first-class ticket to finding you.*

*Its pay-back time.*

---

The End