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Chapter Text

“I’m telling you, the starboard impulse engine is out of alignment. I can feel it.”

Torres didn’t blink at his statement, didn’t break her focus on the engineering console in front of her. Her dark hair fell around her face, nearly obscuring her cranial ridges. Tom Paris couldn’t manage to initiate eye contact with her, his charm offensive stymied before it could even begin.

“Pilots always think they can feel engines out of alignment,” B’Elanna said, crisply. “I’m telling you, if there’s a problem it would have shown up in the diagnostic.”

“And I’m telling you I don’t know why it’s not showing up in the diagnostic, but the Cochrane doesn’t feel right. She’s scheduled for her annual check flight tomorrow, so this is our chance to figure out what’s going on.”

“Well, be sure to tell your check flight pilot about it. I’ll let Nicoletti know, and we’ll see what comes up.”

“Oh no no no, I’m not leaving this up to Jenkins or Sharr or anybody else. There’s something wrong with that starboard engine. I’m flying that check flight tomorrow myself.”

“Fine. I’ll let Nicoletti know.”

Tom Paris held his place in engineering, standing directly next to Torres. He crossed his arms, guessing that very soon she would become annoyed by his silent presence. He could see Ensigns Blain and Vorik across the room, very carefully observing the situation.

“Was there something else, Lieutenant?” B’Elanna bit into the air, finally making eye contact with him. Bingo on the silent presence.

“I think you should do the check flight this time, instead of Nicoletti.” As soon as Tom said it, B’Elanna laughed.

“The chief engineer doesn’t do check flights,” she said.

“Oh are you concerned about protocol, Lieutenant? I’ll have you know I looked into the policies this morning when I decided I would be doing the check flight myself. The only regulation is that a member of the engineering staff and a member of the helm staff has to be present on the shuttle during the check flight. Nothing about rank or senior officers.”

Now she was giving him one of her amused yet skeptical smiles.  

He kind of liked that smile.

“Paris, I’m knee-deep in the anodyne relay overhaul. I can’t take three hours tomorrow to dick around on a shuttlecraft with you.”

Well when she put it that way…

“Two hours tops. I’m very efficient.”

“I’ll bet.” Torres was already turning back to her console, clearly considering the matter closed.

“Two hours. And think of how much fun you’ll have when the starboard impulse engines totally check out and you get to tell me I’m just a crazy pilot who thinks he can feel problems in the engines.”

B’Elanna paused her typing, looked at him again. The beginnings of a smirk twitched on her lips.

Yes! He had won.  

“What time tomorrow?” she asked.

“0730 in the shuttle bay.”

“Fine. See you then.”

“Great,” Tom said, with probably a little too much victorious exultation. He had won. That misaligned starboard engine had annoyed him during two away missions now, and Nicoletti couldn’t find anything in the regular diagnostics. He was finally going to get this figured out tomorrow. And get some quality time with Voyager’s enigmatic chief engineer at the same time. And do some fun flying. Maybe Voyager’s chief helmsman would do all the annual check flights from now on. With a current complement of thirteen shuttles needing check flights, it worked out to about one check flight per standard month. It wouldn’t be too difficult to work that into his schedule.

Chapter Text

“I don’t know if you remember, but last time you said there was an issue with the starboard impulse engine on a shuttlecraft, there wasn’t.” B’Elanna was speaking to him, but looking at the PADD in her hand. Tom had found her in the mess hall during dinner, interrupted her reading of what was undoubtedly some sort of technical manual.

“Yeah, but there was an issue with the plasma conduit adjacent to the impulse drive!”

“There was no way that was related to what you thought you were ‘feeling’ that time, Tom,” she said, still not looking up. A small thrill shot through his skin at the slight edge in her voice when she said his name.

Oh, he had it bad.

“This time there’s definitely something going on with the Sacajawea,” Tom said. “It started acting funny during that away mission to Torpan Prime two months ago. Renlay said she can feel it too.”

“Of course she thinks she can feel it, she’s a pilot,” B’Elanna said, putting down her PADD. Tom took that as an invitation to sit next to her on the mess hall couch. Not too close. She didn’t shy away from his form as he took the seat next to her.

“Look, something’s going on and I don’t trust Nicoletti to find it,” he said.

“Sue is a great engineer,” B’Elanna said, a harsh edge in her voice now. “If there’s a problem, she’ll find it. She knows more about shuttlecraft maintenance and diagnostics than anyone else on my team.”

“Oh I know,” Tom said, mentally kicking himself for accidentally insulting one of B’Elanna’s staff. “She’s great. We’ve really been working well together on the shuttle check flights.” B’Elanna gave him a skeptical look.

“Oh really?” she said. “And if I asked Sue about it what do you think she would—”

“Okay, listen, I know, Sue has it out for me...”

That earned him a very raised eyebrow. “It must be frustrating for you,” B’Elanna commented, “having to do check flights with the only human woman on Voyager who’s immune to the famous Paris charm.”

“Well… not the only, it seems,” he said, quashing his desire to lean in closer.

“I said human.”

“Part human doesn’t count?”

She gave him a look of disbelief and began to turn back to her PADD. Time to recover control of the conversation.

“Look, just do the check flight with me tomorrow morning. We had fun last time. We can skip the music this time. And I won’t ask you again, I promise.”

“I don’t know that Sue will be happy about getting bumped at the last minute from her regular assignment,” B’Elanna said.

“You’ll be doing her a favor! Think how thrilled she will be to get out of being stuck in a shuttlecraft with me for three hours!”

“Three hours?” B’Elanna looked up. “Last time we did this it was two.”

“I’ve found it’s important to take your time with these kinds of things. It’s about enjoying the journey, and finding creative new ways to—”

“Fine! 0730?”

“Yes, great,” Tom stood up from the couch. “I’ll see you there. Don’t be late!”

She rolled her eyes. “This doesn’t mean I’m always doing check flights now. Just because the chief helmsman is happy to spend his time doing all thirteen shuttlecraft check flights every year doesn’t mean the chief engineer is.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Tom said, and then sauntered away, a victorious spring in his step. Three hours alone in a shuttlecraft with B’Elanna; they should have a good time. Maybe a good time that would end with her coming over to straddle him in the pilot’s seat, and he could run his hands up and down her body enjoying full access to…

Okay… maybe this was a bad idea.

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry I’m late. The power cell in the transporter room blew out overnight, and then the replacement did too and Vorik couldn’t identify the issue, and it turned out the relay circuitry had overloaded but of course…” B’Elanna stopped talking, matched Tom’s wide grin when she saw him. He stood from the pilot’s seat in the shuttlecraft where he had been waiting, his preflight checklist long since completed. He embraced her, felt her warm body relax into his as he buried his face in her hair and breathed her in. He released her from his arms, but she pulled him back, kissing him passionately.  

“I missed you,” he said somewhat breathlessly as she finally disengaged.

“Me too. I hate that we’re so busy,” she said.

“And on opposite shifts,” he added. “How is it that we’re in charge of our own departments and still somehow manage to get on opposite schedules?”

“I can’t be the chief engineer and not do my time on gamma shift, Tom,” she reminded him.

“I know, I know, as much as I want to blame Chakotay—”

“It’s what happens on a starship,” she said. “But I forgot about the check flights.”

“I know, because I’ve been enjoying the company of Sue Nicolleti every month for the past year…”

“I do not understand what it is with you two,” B’Elanna said, settling herself into the co-pilot’s seat, starting up the diagnostic programs with a few quick commands.  

“She’s been even colder since you and I started dating, if you can believe that,” Tom said, taking his seat again.  

“She’s not cold, Tom, she’s just quiet, and doesn’t give you the attention you’re used to getting from females.”

“Hey, that’s not exactly fair.”

“Isn’t it?” she said, giving him a look. “Okay, I’m ready for launch when you are.”

They watched the shuttlebay doors open, heard Harry Kim’s voice come in over the intercom.

“Shuttle Tereshkova, you’re cleared for launch. Have fun you two.”

Tom could swear he heard Harry snickering to himself over the comm.

“Thanks, Harry, shuttle Tereshkova launching for routine check flight. See ya in three hours.”

“Acknowledged.”

Tom and B’Elanna watched the starscape engulf the viewscreen as the small spacecraft left the shuttlebay and swam out into the depths of space. Tom had already input a course for a spot half a light year away, out of Voyager’s gravitational pull and electromagnetic influence, as dictated by the Starfleet shuttlecraft check flight handbook.  

“Anyway, I like working with Nicoletti,” B’Elanna said, as she worked to bring up the warp diagnostic programs. “She’s an observer. And yes, she’s quiet, but when she does speak up you know it’s for a good reason. Unlike Chapman. I was stuck in a Jeffries tube with him for three hours the other day and I came out feeling like I had been hit by a shuttlecraft full of nothing.”

Tom grinned, amused. B’Elanna’s experiences and opinions about life and the people on Voyager could be so different from his own. He activated the autopilot option with a swift tap, and turned to face her, edging his body closer to hers. He reached out and placed one hand on her thigh.  

B’Elanna stopped what she was doing, and turned to look at him.

“Tom…” her tone was warning but playful.

“I’ve missed you, B’Elanna.” She was turning toward him now, and he took the opportunity to place his hands around her waist, and pull her toward him, guiding her body on top of his own. She settled in on his lap, astride him, smiling that semi-skeptical smile he loved. He ran his hands down her body, along her thighs, and back up again, taking the slower route across her breasts on the way back up. How many times had he played out this particular shuttlecraft fantasy in his head? He had expected some feigned reluctance on her part, but she came willingly to him. He kissed a path around her neck and under her jaw, one hand on her ass now, the other searching for the zipper on her uniform.  

“Tom…” she warned.

“We have plenty of time,” he said, having already foreseen her list of protests, and prepared counterarguments. “We’ve done the check flight in two hours easily before, and the flight plan I filed on the bridge has us gone for a little over three hours, so that gives us a full hour to… play.”

“Yeah, but… on the shuttlecraft…”

“What?” Tom paused the work his lips had been doing on her neck, but his right hand stayed on task and was already pulling down the zipper on her uniform. “Do you think Nicoletti installed cameras?”

B’Elanna laughed, Tom’s grin got wider, and she settled into him a little more firmly. Her pelvis pressed down on his erection, exciting him. How long had it been? Longer than he cared to go without her.

“Fine,” she whispered in his ear. “But if we’re late, you get to explain it to the captain.”

“Uh huh,” he breathed, both hands sliding down her body as he began pulling her uniform jacket off of her. He couldn’t help feeling pleased with himself for talking her into this. Yes, the chief engineer and senior helmsman would definitely have to be in charge of all the check flights from here on out.

Chapter Text

“...and then Harry said there was no way in hell he was going back into the pub. You should have seen his face when he ran into Megan in the mess hall five minutes later!”

B’Elanna chuckled, her fingers playing across the shuttlecraft console, processing the last few pieces of data from the shuttlecraft check flight.

“He should have just told Megan he was having an allergic reaction,” she commented.

“That’s what I said!” Tom said. “Harry never takes my best advice.”

Chapter Text

Tom had been expecting Sue. B’Elanna had been working long hours the last few weeks, finishing the upgrades needed to bring the new astrometrics lab online. Her regular rotation on gamma shift had begun just a few days after that. He hadn’t seen her in two days, didn’t expect that to change anytime soon. The annual check flight on the Lafayette had been scheduled for two weeks ago, and they had postponed it several times, but the flight was coming due now and just needed to be done, regardless of the chief engineer’s availability. Tom had resigned himself to a fun three hours of attempting to engage Sue Nicoletti in conversation.

So he was surprised when he strolled into the Lafayette and saw B’Elanna at the co-pilot’s console.

“I thought you would reassign this to Sue,” he said, kissing her quickly on her ridges before settling into his pilot’s seat.

“And I thought you would reassign this one to Renlay since I was going to be sleeping,” she responded. “But I checked the schedule last night and your name was still there.”

“You should be sleeping,” he said. “You must be exhausted.”

“I know. I am.”

Tom started up the pre-flight sequence, tried to think of a way to let B’Elanna off the hook without feeling guilty. She was humoring him, he knew, and he appreciated it but she really didn’t need to be here. He and Sue could discuss… tea. Didn’t Sue like tea? Did Sue Nicoletti like anything? “You know you can call Sue off her engineering rotation this morning, send her up here now, and we wouldn’t even be late. Really, there’s no reason you have to do this.”

“Tom,” B’Elanna leaned over and placed her hand on top of his. “I want to be here.”

“Even after two days of gamma shift, and two weeks of double shifts before that?” he asked, meeting her eyes.

“Yes, definitely,” she confirmed. “Now let’s get that pre-flight done. I need to be back in time for a damn nap.”

Chapter Text

“Tom…” B’Elanna moaned, as he took her nipple in his mouth.

They were in the back of the shuttle, on the floor, both down to their underwear. Tom’s boxers were fighting a structural integrity battle against his erection. He had just removed B’Elanna’s bra, and was taking his time trailing his mouth from her neck down to her belly. He was holding her down, his hands on top of hers, and he could feel her shuddering underneath him. He was very pleased with the situation.

“Tom, I need you inside—”

“Chakotay to the shuttlecraft Jefferson,” Chakotay’s voice suddenly reverberated through the small shuttlecraft. B’Elanna and Tom froze, panic and amusement in both sets of eyes. Tom looked up to the ceiling.

“Jefferson here,” he responded.

“We’ve identified a binary system not far from here with some unusual gravitational activity,” Chakotay said. “The captain wants to take a look. We won’t be back at the rendezvous coordinates until two hours after the scheduled end of your check flight. You okay out there for an extra two hours?”

Tom glanced at B’Elanna, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, we’re good, Commander,” Tom said. “No problem. See you at 1300 then.”

“Acknowledged, Voyager out,” Chakotay responded.

Tom waited several beats to make sure the comm was clear and then he smirked at his companion.

“Well, Lieutenant, sounds like my long game just got a lot longer,” he said, moving back in to continue his mouth’s unhurried journey south. He was just about to make contact with her skin again when he found himself suddenly on his own back against the rough grey carpet of the shuttlecraft. A triumphant B’Elanna Torres was above him, grinding herself against him, holding down his wrists above his head.

“I’m not that patient, Lieutenant,” she said.

Chapter Text

Tom was surprised, as he entered the shuttlebay, two coffees in hand, at 0715, to find B’Elanna already occupying the co-pilot’s seat.

“Hey,” he said, as he handed her one of the the still-warm cups. “Sorry, I thought we were meeting at 0730.”

“I woke up early,” she responded, accepting the coffee.

“You still having trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that why you took that extra gamma shift for Vorik last week?” he asked.

She just nodded in the affirmative. Tom set down his own coffee near his console, and went and knelt next to B’Elanna.

“You should really spend the night with me,” he said.

“You know it never works for us to spend the night together when we’re on separate shifts,” she said. Tom grimaced.  

“I know; you’ve got to get off beta shift,” he agreed. B’Elanna stared into her coffee, not responding. He knew she would take her turn on beta shift, uncomplainingly, and nothing he could say would make her switch the engineering schedule for her own benefit.

Well, if she wouldn’t, he would.

“You know, Renlay’s on beta shift next week, and she’s been complaining about it because that painting class she wants to do is during beta,” he said, putting his arm around B’Elanna. “I could do her a favor and switch with her, just for next week. Then you could spend the night.” B’Elanna set down her own coffee and leaned into him just slightly.

“Don’t give up your alpha shift for me,” B’Elanna said. “I’m fine. This happens. I’ll get over it.”

“Anything to get more time with you,” Tom responded, pulling her into an embrace, which she returned awkwardly. “I hate it when these check flights are the only time we get together.”

B’Elanna pulled away from him, a small bit of amusement playing across her face. “You should get started on that pre-flight, Lieutenant,” she said. “I’ve already got the diagnostic programs loading up; I’m way ahead of you.”

“You’re always ahead of me,” he said, taking his place in the pilot’s seat. He paused momentarily, glanced again at the figure in the seat next to him. He loved her so much. He loved her laugh, her smile, her sense of humor and her skeptical optimism. He loved her fire, how she engulfed everything around her, made everyone, including him, burn brighter. He wished he could find a way to tell her all of it, but he always found himself stumbling over the words, or worrying he would upset the glorious mixture of luck and emotional mismanagement that had brought them together here in the first place. And everything would be ruined.

Someday he would find a way to tell her.

Chapter Text

“Hard starboard roll into high impulse,” B’Elanna read from the checklist. At this point, they both had it memorized, but continued to read it out loud, a habit held over from the days when the monthly check flight often lead them to great distraction.

“Aye,” Tom responded, rolling the shuttlecraft Sloane hard to the right, causing the stars in the viewscreen to spin.

“Numbers good?” he asked.

B’Elanna nodded absently.

“Port roll?” he asked.

B’Elanna said nothing, and Tom waited.

“Port roll?” he tried again.

“What? Oh, yeah, port roll,” she said. Tom coaxed the shuttlecraft into performing the same maneuver to the left this time.

“Something distracting you?” he asked B’Elanna.

“What? No. Why?”

“You just seem distracted lately.”

“I don’t know why you would think that,” she shrugged.

“Well, that’s good because I found a new program I wanted to try with you: a little town on the Mediterranean with a Venetian fortress above it. It’s called Nafplio. Great hiking. Have you heard of it?”

B’Elanna shook her head.

“We could do some exploring, and if you’re up for it I can add in a spot for a picnic—”

“I actually am busy, Tom,” B’Elanna said, suddenly. “In engineering, I mean. I’m just… behind on a lot of reports.”

“That’s fine, next week then.”

“Yeah,” she said, with a significant lack of enthusiasm. Was she even trying?

“You know, we don’t have to do Nafplio if you don’t want,” Tom offered. “It’s fine, if you’re not interested.”  

“I’m just busy right now,” B’Elanna said. “And tired.”

“No no, don’t apologize,” Tom said. “I’ll see if Chapman and Harry want to try it out for a hike this week, minus the romantic picnic of course.”

Tom looked at B’Elanna, expecting an eye roll or at least a grimace. Nothing.

“Yeah, okay,” she said. Had she even heard his little quip? “Full stop from high impulse, then low impulse…”

“Aye,” Tom responded with a sigh, entering commands into his console. He was frustrated that she hadn’t acknowledged his joke, nor seemed to have noticed his simmering disappointment. He had this maddening sense that he had lost the direct access to her emotional core that he had fought so hard to gain over the previous year. Why did it feel like they were back to square one: mysteriously fiery chief engineer and charming chief helmsman, cautiously dancing around each other?

Well, she was B’Elanna Torres after all, famously volatile and guarded. If she needed space for a while, she could have space. He would wait for her; he had done it before.

Chapter Text

Tom stepped down the long corridor toward the shuttlebay, trying to curb his anxiety about today’s check flight. B’Elanna had been avoiding him recently, and doing a ridiculously good job of it. He couldn’t remember the last time they had shared a meal or slept together. He had given her the space he thought she needed. But her absence ate away at his peace of mind, and his emotional turmoil threatened to overwhelm him at times.

Tom missed B’Elanna. He missed her laughter, and her sardonic grin, and he missed those intense sparks she seemed to throw off when she was fully focused on a project. He missed her arms around him, and the smell of her hair as he would bend down slightly to kiss her. He missed that contented feeling of being one part of a whole.

Today they were going to talk about it, he had decided. They had a three hour check flight ahead of them, no way to escape. They would get it figured it out. They loved each other, they just needed to talk this out, establish some expectations. It would be okay.

The shuttle bay door swung aside to admit him, and Tom saw the shuttlecraft hatch already wide open. Good, B’Elanna was a little early. He reminded himself to not broach the subject of her pulling away until they had launched. He stepped onto the shuttle.

“Good morning, Lieutenant.”

Tom frowned.

“Lieutenant Torres is busy, sir,” Sue Nicoletti said in response to the surprised look on Tom’s face. “She put me back on check flights for now. Did you not see the change on the schedule?”

“No,” Tom said, trying very, very hard to not sound as pissed off as he actually was.  

Nicoletti turned back to her console.

Tom took his spot in the pilot’s seat, sat for a few moments before noticing he was shaking with anger and tension. He forced his lungs to take a deep breath, surprised at his physical reaction. He must be even more upset than he had realized.

They had always had the check flights, him and B’Elanna. No matter how busy they had been, no matter if Voyager had been attacked or if the warp core had nearly breached, shuttlecraft check flights had to happen, even if delayed. And now, a busy month in engineering was enough to bring the whole thing to a halt. Maybe even bring their whole relationship to a halt. Was that what B’Elanna wanted, but was too afraid to say to him? Was she pushing him away to make their eventual breakup go more smoothly?

He was so angry that she was playing this game with him. Angry he had fallen for it. He had thought she was better than that, thought that they were better than that together. This had meant something to him. Something beyond games.

Fine. Two could play that game. She wanted space? He would give her space, but he would not give her the satisfaction of him initiating a breakup.

“Sir? Engineering programs are at the ready. Would you like some assistance with the the pre-flight list?” Nicoletti interrupted his thoughts.

“No, thanks, Sue,” Tom forced the words out. “I’ll be ready in a few moments. Hang tight.”

Chapter Text

Tom input Voyager’s coordinates into the Sacajawea’s console, leaned back in the pilot’s seat and sighed. He stole a glance at his companion in the co-pilot’s seat. She was absentmindedly running a hand through her hair as she finalized the check flight results. They had had a really good check flight: laughed together, conspired together, smiled together. It felt good, to be back here with her.

There was one thing he still had to say, something that had needed to be said for a long time now.  

“B’Elanna,” he started, then stopped, stalled by that choking feeling in his throat again.

“What?” she looked up at him.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to whisper.

“For what?” she smiled at him, maybe thinking there was a terrible pun coming her way.

“For not knowing what was going on,” he looked away from her, lifted his eyes to the starscape ahead of him instead. “For giving you space when I thought you needed space. For not asking more questions.”

“Tom—”

“For being angry,” he continued. “I was so angry with you for walking away from me, from us. I had no idea, B’Elanna. I didn’t know.” The last words barely made it out.

“Tom…” B’Elanna slid from her own seat now, her console abandoned. She knelt next to him, and put a hand on his shoulder. “You couldn’t have known,” she said. “I had locked you out. I don’t blame you. There was nothing you could have done.”

Tom finally turned his eyes back to the woman at his side. Her eyes were glistening too, exactly as he knew his were at this moment.

“I know,” he almost whispered. “I know, and I’m so lucky. I won’t let this happen again, B’Elanna. Next time, I’m going to fight for you, fight for us. I love, you, B’Elanna.” He turned now, and reached both his arms around her shoulders, pulling her in as tightly as he could.

“I love you too, Tom,” she spoke into his shoulder.

Chapter Text

“Lieutenant Torres to Ensign Paris.” Tom was standing at the mess hall counter, waiting for Neelix to pour his coffee when B’Elanna’s voice came in over the comm. He cringed a little at his new rank. It was only his second day back from the brig, and becoming Ensign Paris again hadn’t been easy. It felt like a perverse incentive to inhabit that old screw-up persona again.

Last night, curled up together in her bed, B’Elanna had encouraged him to take pride in his demotion, in his willingness to step up and do the right thing, consequences be damned. Her confidence had made sense to him then, but it was harder to believe in the light of day, out in the sterile corridors of Voyager where all eyes seemed immediately drawn to the single pip on his neck.

“Paris here,” Tom replied.

“You’re late, Ensign,” B’Elanna said. Tom narrowed his eyes into the air, confused.

“Alpha shift doesn’t start for twenty minutes, Lieutenant,” he responded, trying to sound nonchalant. Where was she going with this?

“The check flight on the Tereshkova was supposed to start ten minutes ago,” she said.

“Um, the check flight on the Tereshkova was due last week, Lieutenant, and according to helm records was completed by Ensign Sharr and Lieutenant Nicoletti while I was… occupied,” Tom said carefully.

“Funny thing,” B’Elanna’s voice answered over the comm, “the check flight data was lost due to a processor malfunction yesterday afternoon. Starfleet policy requires the check flight to be done again, as soon as possible. And if you look at today’s schedule you’ll see that Ensign Sharr is assigned to the helm for alpha shift, and Ensign Paris is assigned to this check flight.”

“How did you—”

“Don’t ask. I may have called in some favors. Report to the shuttlebay immediately, Ensign.” She closed the comm.

Tom didn’t even try to hide his grin as he took the cup of hot coffee Neelix was now handing to him.

“You better get going,” Neelix said, and winked.

The most exultant ensign in the Delta Quadrant made his way to the mess hall exit, heading quickly toward the shuttlebay.  

Chapter Text

He had known all along, really.

He had known since the beginning that he wanted to marry her someday. But the idea had recently become more firmly fixed in his consciousness, and ‘someday’ had turned into ‘soon.’

They had discussed marriage a few times, indirectly, yes, but enough. And Tom was nothing if not confident in his powers of persuasion. She was going to marry him, he was sure of that, and the very thought lately had made his heart leap a little.

But there was one thing he suspected he couldn’t talk her into, something much scarier than marriage: children.

Tom wanted kids. He wanted to press his hand against B'Elanna's rounded abdomen and feel their baby moving in there. He wanted to fall asleep on the couch with a newborn on his chest. He wanted to create a role in Proton for a feisty grade-schooler with subtle forehead ridges, and have family pizza night every week. Yes, definitely family pizza night.

But did B’Elanna want this too?

Her own childhood hadn’t been great, her relationship with her mother full of tension. She did okay when called upon to interact with Naomi Wildman, but had freely admitted to Tom that she wasn’t very good with children, and didn’t quite know what to do with them.

Somehow, they had never discussed children.

They needed to discuss children.

When Tom would sit and work through her possible responses—yes, no, maybe, are you crazy—he always came to the same conclusion: he was going to marry her regardless of her response. So, this Big Question—do you want kids?—suddenly became an Even Bigger Question. Her answer would determine whether he gave up or doubled down on his fantasies of piggyback rides through the corridors of Voyager.

They were on the Delta Flyer this morning, putting her through her check flight paces. It had been all business this time, with the Flyer still being fairly new and more sophisticated than Voyager's regular complement of shuttles. They had written the check flight manual themselves, admittedly not the most interesting part of designing your own spacecraft.

“I don’t think this flight pattern is effectively testing the phase inverters. Maybe we should rework the specs on that part of the manual.” B’Elanna was speaking, mostly to herself, from her seat at the aft console, behind Tom’s line of sight. His eyes were on the readouts, his hands on the controls, and his mind was elsewhere.

He had never asked her if she wanted children.

He needed to ask her if she wanted children.

“Have you ever thought about having kids?” he asked, his brain immediately going to red alert in response to his mouth’s ill-advised actions.

“About what?” she asked.

“About kids.” Tom’s heart was pounding now.

“About… having kids?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve thought about it,” she said slowly. And then nothing.

Tom desperately wanted to turn around, just to see if her facial expression would provide a clue as to what his future held. But his natural instinct to play it cool prevented him from doing so.

“We’ve just never talked about it before,” Tom prompted, trying to sound casual.

“I know we haven’t,” she answered. What did that mean?

Tom swallowed nervously, cursing his damn mouth for bringing this up now. This conversation could have waited. It could have waited a year, two years, maybe five years.

“We don’t have to talk about it right now,” he said, backing off, backing away. His heart was still pounding. It was possible that her non-answer was actually worse than any answer she could have given him. But maybe it meant she was just undecided? He could work with undecided. He could work with anything, really, as long as they had each other. His heart rate finally started to slow.

“With you, yes,” B’Elanna said suddenly, from behind him. And his heart started pounding again.

“What?”

“I mean not right now, obviously,” she added. “But yeah. With you. Someday.”

Joy and relief flooded him. He turned around to look at B’Elanna, and saw her own apprehensive look melt away when she saw his smile.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant too,” he said, suddenly feeling very content despite the adrenaline rush he was still experiencing. “Someday.”

Chapter Text

It had finally happened, and he couldn’t believe it.

Tom Paris was right about something.

They had gone through the usual song and dance of “the impulse engines feel sluggish” followed by “pilots always think they can feel sluggish impulse engines” and back and forth. That of course led to a quickie in the middle of that particular check flight (that hadn’t happened in a while), but even more surprising was that Tom was right. Something was wrong with the Lafayette’s impulse engines.

He hadn’t done any gloating at the time. Perhaps it looked like he was playing the part of the sensitive boyfriend, but when the numbers came up and it became clear he was correct about the impulse engines, he had been so surprised he didn’t know what to say.

They had returned from the check flight before lunch, had uploaded the information to Voyager’s main computer and gotten on with the remainder of their shifts. Except now it was almost 2200 and he had neither seen nor heard from B’Elanna since they had returned on the Lafayette. He had finally wandered back down to the shuttlebay after querying the computer as to her whereabouts.

“Fucking piece of shit.” B’Elanna Torres was crouched inside of the Lafayette, various pieces of technology strewn across the shuttlecraft and out onto the floor of the shuttlebay. She had removed her uniform jacket, and had clearly been spending the last several hours sweatily insinuating herself into the shuttlecraft’s innards. Had she taken apart the entire impulse drive herself?

“B’Elanna?”

“FUCK!!!” A thrust nozzle came flying out of the Lafayette, skittering across the metal floor, as the word reverberated in the shuttlebay.

Tom paused, considering his next move carefully.

“I fucking hate this thing.” B’Elanna had come out of the shuttlecraft, wrench gripped tightly in one hand.

“So you’re getting a head start on the impulse engines, I see?” he tried.

“I ripped the whole fucking thing apart and still can't find the problem. I swear I’m going to rip the rest of it apart tonight and use the parts to make a new replicator for Neelix.”

“Well that’ll teach the Lafayette a lesson,” Tom commented.

B’Elanna angrily threw the wrench she had been clutching in her other hand to the ground. Tom cringed, waiting for another string of invectives. Instead, B’Elanna turned and punched the hull of the Lafayette, then stood silently, examining her fist. He could hear her fighting to slow her breath.

“I’m sorry,” she said, finally.

He looked at her, hesitating.

“I’m sorry I lost my temper,” she said, still staring at her fist. Tom took that as his opening, and moved toward her, taking her into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“It’s okay,” he murmured.

“No, it’s not,” she said. “It’s my stupid fucking temper. It’s always been a problem. I’m trying to get a handle on it.”

“You’re really taking these meditation lessons with Tuvok seriously, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Yeah, I am,” she said. “I’m trying to, anyway. You shouldn’t have to put up with me like this. Nobody should.” She pushed his body away from hers, and went to retrieve both the wrench and the thrust nozzle that had landed several meters away. Tom watched her return to kneel in her spot amidst the puzzle pieces of the Lafayette’s impulse drive. She was glaring at the errant thrust nozzle now, as if she were trying to intimidate it into giving up its dirty, nonfunctioning secrets.

“B’Elanna, I appreciate what you’re doing, taking these meditation lessons with Tuvok so seriously,” he said, going and kneeling next to her. “But I fell in love with all parts of you, and that includes your temper. I don’t want you to think you have to change for me.”

“I don’t want…” she shouted, and then stopped, slowing her words. “My mother used to rage around the house like that, losing her shit and throwing things… I don’t want—”

“You’re not like that,” Tom said. “And we’re more solid than—”

“It’s not a good way to grow up,” she interrupted him. “When I was little I would hide from her for hours when she was in those moods. I don’t want to do that.”

Tom suddenly realized what she was talking about and his heart leapt. This wasn’t about him, was it? It was about the future, about a family. He pulled her close, offering comfort in his embrace.

“You won’t be like that,” he said. “You’re going to be wonderful.” She was quiet for a few moments, letting herself relax into his embrace, although she didn’t drop the thrust nozzle in her hand.

“I’m going to try,” she said, finally pulling away from him. She exhaled very deliberately, and then turned her attention back to the thrust nozzle assembly. Her mind was back on the task at hand. Tom’s wasn’t. Visions of their future unfolded in his brain, and his body tingled with anticipation.

Chapter Text

Two years. It had been almost two years since Tom and B’Elanna had missed a check flight together. Thirty days in the brig, an alien parasite, a wacko ex-boyfriend, implanted trauma: none of it had prevented the two of them from completing a check flight together.

But assimilation by Borg, that was another thing entirely.

The Doctor steadfastly refused to clear B’Elanna for duty, and despite her bristling at Tom’s hovering and her insistence that she was fine, Tom could tell it had been a difficult recovery. Much more difficult than any other he could remember. So he was disappointed, but had no regrets to let her keep sleeping when he had departed from her quarters that morning at 0722.

He had steeled himself for a rather tedious three hours of Sue Nicoletti, and had considered assigning this task to Tricia. Ultimately his love of flying, especially flying for the sake of flying, won out over his discomfort with the reticent engineer.

Last night he had mentioned to B’Elanna that he needed to come up with some conversation topics in order to fill the silence. B’Elanna had tactfully commented that maybe Sue didn’t need the silence filled and that he should try to embrace the opportunity for quiet.

And the flight had gone well. They were almost done, just three maneuvers and a full restart left to go. Tom had forced himself to temper his love of conversation, letting the silence expand. This seemed to have given Sue the opportunity she needed to begin volunteering information in a way that almost resembled a true exchange. For instance, Tom now knew that Sue preferred oolong tea, had once owned a dog named Tully, and disliked bridge shifts. Progress.

“B’Elanna doesn’t like bridge shifts either,” Tom commented as he pushed the shuttlecraft through the penultimate maneuver. “I think she prefers to be knee-deep in the plasma conduits. And the bridge is too far away from engineering.”

“Yes, I feel the same,” Sue agreed.

Tom brought the shuttle to a halt, and began the protocol for restarting all nonessential systems. The sound of processors coming back online swept around the small shuttlecraft. Tom put his hands behind his head, stretching momentarily, while Sue focused on the data coming through the diagnostic program. He wondered if B’Elanna was up yet, back on Voyager, wondered what she was doing.

“Check flight diagnostic is complete, sir,” Sue said. “Data has been successfully logged.”

“Alright, let’s head back then,” Tom said, hoping their early return to Voyager would give him a chance to check in on B’Elanna before he started on the rest of his shift. He input the commands into the navigational control, and the shuttle turned and headed back to her mothership. The shuttlecraft was silent again, and Tom had to deliberately deter himself from starting in on a new conversational topic.

“If it’s not too forward of me to ask, how is Lieutenant Torres doing with her recovery, sir?” Sue’s voice suddenly broke the silence as Voyager’s curves began to fill the viewscreen.

“You can ask,” he said. “It’s a slow recovery. I know she’s anxious to get back to engineering, but I think it’ll be a while.” Sue nodded. Tom turned his attention to the comm, requesting and receiving permission to land. The maw of the shuttlebay loomed before them.

“She’s an excellent leader,” Sue said, suddenly.

“Who? B’Elanna?”

“Yes.”

“You know,” he said, “I’ve told her that too, and she doesn’t seem to believe me. And yet every year her department review comes back with the best efficiency ratings. And you’re all so loyal to her down there.” Sue nodded in response to this.

“She understands her people,” she said. “She tolerates our limitations, but also knows how to encourage our strengths.”

“That sounds about right,” Tom agreed, angling the shuttlecraft into the bay, trading the view of the stars for the sterile gray of Voyager’s interior.

“She’s not unlike you in that way,” Sue continued, although she seemed to be speaking to herself more than to him now. “Although her insights come from observation, and yours come from interaction.”

“Funny, she always said you were the observer,” Tom commented.

Silence again as Tom brought the shuttlecraft in for a gentle landing on the shuttlebay floor. The massive doors closed behind them and the re-pressurization process began.

“If it’s not too forward of me to say, sir,” Sue said. “I just think you should know: it doesn’t matter to her how you ask. Just that you do ask.” Tom’s surprise at this must have showed on his face, because Sue smiled as she stood to exit the shuttlecraft. “Just an observation, sir. From someone who has had many occasions to observe the relationship development of two lieutenants for several years now.”

Chapter Text

So… are we going to keep doing this?” B’Elanna looked at Tom from her spot in the co-pilot’s seat in the Sloane.

“Doing what?” Tom was absorbed in the flight data flowing across the top of his console. That last run on the impulse engines had felt unbalanced to him, and he was looking for confirmation in the numbers.

“The check flights,” she answered. Was she even looking at this data? He was sure there was something wrong here.

“What?” Tom was confused.

“Well we’re married. We’re living together now.”

“So?”

“You know, we don’t need to use check flights as an excuse to spend time together anymore,” she said. She really wasn’t looking at that data at all, was she?

“Did you see that low six on the secondary power relay for the port impulse drive?” he asked. He knew he was changing the subject on her but these numbers…

“Yes,” she scowled at him.

“Well? I think that’s something.”

“It’s within parameters,” she said. “It’s fine.”

“Yeah, but I think it’s affecting the vector assurances. Didn’t it feel out of balance to you when we were banking just now?”

“I’ll go take a look,” she said, undoubtedly rolling her eyes. She stood up and walked aft. Tom was reviewing the numbers again; he heard her removing a panel in the back of the shuttle.

“So I got a reminder from sickbay yesterday,” she commented from behind him.

“Oh yeah?” Tom asked, not really paying attention.

“I’m due for my contraceptive booster next week,” she added.

“Uh huh. Sounds about right.” Now that he was looking at these numbers again, he was seeing a slight delay in the power uptake for the entire impulse drive. Maybe this was the first sign of a failing driver coil assembly? B’Elanna was silent in the back now. She must be examining the power relay visually because he couldn’t hear the low hum he would expect from the sub-micron scanner.

“I was thinking about not getting it,” B’Elanna said from behind him.

Not getting the sub-micron scanner? Was there something wrong with the one they—

Oh.

Oh.

“Not getting your contraceptive?” Tom turned around now, catching his breath, not totally sure he had heard right. His brain was just catching up, the flight data was suddenly very, very low priority.

“Well, the odds are against us here with the mixed species thing. I just thought if we start now maybe in three or four years…” she trailed off. Tom’s face broke into a wide grin just as B’Elanna looked up at him. She raised her eyebrows.

“I would say the odds have been against us from the beginning,” he said. “That hasn’t stopped us before.”

“That’s for sure,” she agreed, a wry smile appearing on her lips. Tom activated the autopilot and stood, moving to the aft section of the shuttle where B’Elanna was kneeling by the access panel. B’Elanna stood to greet him as he approached. He placed his hands on her waist, moved his face toward her so their foreheads were touching.

“So you’re okay with this?” she asked.

“Definitely. And I’ll get mine reversed tomorrow,” he said. “If that’s okay with you.”

“So really? We’re really doing this?” she asked as Tom started kissing around her jaw line.

“Yeah, in like three or four years,” he murmured into her cheek.

“Yeah,” she agreed.

Tom moved his hands off his new wife’s waist, with some regret that they were already near the end of their scheduled check flight time and wouldn’t have a chance to mark this occasion properly.

Besides, these sluggish impulse engines still needed a thorough scanning. He gave her a kiss on the lips this time, before moving back toward the pilot’s seat.

“We better get on this impulse engine issue,” he said, and he knew that she was rolling her eyes behind him even though he couldn’t see her face.

“Yeah, I’ll scan this stupid power relay for you,” she said.

“Oh, and as to your other question—yes, we should keep doing these check flights. I don’t care if we’ve been married for a week or a decade. I’ll take any excuse to be cooped up in a shuttlecraft with you.” B’Elanna grumbled affectionately from behind him. “Besides,” he added, “you know how easily distracted I am. At least during a check flight you have my full attention.”

B’Elanna laughed.

Chapter Text

“Is that… what is that?” Tom narrowed his eyes at the bowl of strange little biscuits B’Elanna was carrying as they left their quarters. They were on their way to the shuttlebay for the Churchill’s check flight.

“Don’t you dare touch these.” B’Elanna pulled the bowl away from his inspection.

“Is that… are you bringing a snack?”

“Yes.”

“I just put a whole piece of peanut butter toast in the disposal bin because you said you weren’t hungry.”

“I wasn’t hungry for toast.”

“So you’re hungry for… what are those?”

“Creme cookies, from Vulcan.” She had the bowl lodged snuggly in one arm now—the side away from him, Tom noted—and was nibbling on a bland-looking biscuit in her left hand. He had never heard of these creme cookies, and was a little annoyed that his wife had so easily rejected his protein-filled peanut butter toast this morning and then gone and replicated some sort of cookie breakfast for the road.

“What?” She must have picked up on his mild annoyance. “Sue brought some in last Wednesday and they’re incredible. It’s the only thing that tastes good right now.” She took another bite. “And if you ask me if these are listed in the Doctor’s approved prenatal diet—”

“I would never!” Tom smiled and held up his hands in mock indignation. “I won’t even tell the Doctor, promise.” He leaned in, hoping to plant a quick kiss on her cheek, but she took a step away. Evasive maneuver successful. Tom gave her a questioning look.

“You’re just after my cookies!” Her eyes sparkled as she said it. He took the bait, and feigned an attempt at swiping one of her precious snacks. She laughed and tried to jump away, but this time he caught her by the waist, pulled her in close, and kissed her on the lips. His hand stayed momentarily on her abdomen, just beginning to swell with evidence of their unborn daughter.

“Mmmm… creme,” he murmured as he released his smiling wife from the kiss.

Chapter Text

The Jefferson was having some serious problems with its shields, and B’Elanna Torres was having some serious problems with the Jefferson. She had pulled open the floor panel in the aft section and was digging around in the deflector systems, shouting commands at Tom.

“Okay, try reinitializing the inertial dampeners, and then try the shields,” she told him. She exhaled angrily a few seconds later when it was clear that hadn’t worked. “Okay, bring us to a full stop.”

“Aye,” Tom said as he executed the stop commands on his console. He turned to get a closer look at what the engineer was up to back there. She was still bent over the access area in the floor. It must have been hell on her back. As if reading his mind, she leaned herself upright for a moment, stretched backward. Her rounded belly was even more prominent for a second, and Tom was reminded of just how little time they had left before it was more than just the two of them. B’Elanna hadn’t noticed him staring at her, and she leaned back down and thrust one hand back into the panel.

“Okay, reinitialize the impulse drives, but bring the reactors online one by one,” she told him.

“Got it,” he said, and he turned back to input the commands. The reactors came online sequentially, and he turned back to look at his wife again. She had one hand in the access panel, the other on the floor of the shuttlecraft to steady herself, and she was staring blankly at the wall.

“B’Elanna?”

“Okay, I think this is a frequency interference issue,” she was saying, as she came back up to kneel. “The impulse drive wasn’t tuned properly on the last overhaul and now the shield generator can’t operate at nominal rates. I’ll have to get Vorik—”

“B’Elanna… were you feeling that power relay?”

“What?”

“Were you… touching the power relay to figure out what was going on?”

“Maybe,” she said. She was trying to haul herself to standing now, and Tom set the autopilot and quickly moved aft to assist her. She took his proffered hand, and allowed him to help her up. He had noticed she had been putting up less of a fight about accepting his help these last few weeks.

“Thanks,” she said. She must have noticed his wide grin because she narrowed her eyes at him. “What?”

“You were feeling that power relay.”

“So what?”

“You’ve spent the last seven years mocking me every time I tell you I can feel something wrong with a ship.”

She scowled. His grin only widened.

“Look, that type of relay has particular resonance standards for operation, and when you’ve been working with them as long as I have…” She trailed off as Tom embraced her, leaned in, and kissed her on the lips.

“I love you,” he whispered to her, still grinning wildly. She raised her eyebrows at him.

“And…?” She was trying to prompt his ‘I told you so.’ His arms were still around her, holding her as close as he could these days.

“And what?” he asked, playfully.

“Was there something else you wanted to say?” she demanded.

Tom thought about it for a moment, studied her face, enjoying again her look of affection and halfway-feigned annoyance. He moved one hand around to her front, gently placed it on the hard sphere of her abdomen. She moved her hand on top of his.

“Yeah, there is,” he said. “We make a good team. I’m glad you let me talk you into doing these check flights together.” Her eyes narrowed at him again, a playfully indignant response poised on her lips. But then her features softened, and she leaned into him, nuzzling her head underneath his chin.

“Me too,” she said.