The Power of Love: Popping the Question
By ‘Rini Alpert  (When I talk about myself, I sometimes say ‘Rini, so sue me... not literally.. BTW, real name is Erin)

:::sigh:::: could this be rated PG-13?  Why.. yes!!!  It is!!!  I find it hard to believe that people under 13 write PG-13 stuff...... or NC-17.... not me!!! I don’t  do * THAT *  I don’t even READ it!!!!  I may think close to that level, but I don’t read or write it <G>!!!!!!!!!!  Beware, do not eat anything (Especially crackers <KEIKO!>) before reading the end.. you might choke to death... usually a bad thing.... but this ending might be as shocking as what they cut out of Coda!!!!! {{{{Collective}}}} {{{{Whoever told us about that}}}}  {{{Keiko, for choking on food after reading it!! <g>}}}

B’Elanna Torres carefully stepped into her’s and Tom’s quarters.  There were no lights on, which was surprising, because Tom should be home by now, and he had been coming home before this time for the last four months, and one week, since they had been living together, in

“Tom?” She called, and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.    
Ever since she and Tom had known each other, he had kept saying that she would look good with longer hair, and she finally took his advice.  But even at the touch beneath the shoulders length that it was, it was a hassle, so she had decided to cut it again.

“Tom??? You here?” she called once more into the darkness, her eyes trying to pierce through it. Suddenly, she felt two hands grab her by the waist, lift her slightly off the ground, and turn her around to face him. She nearly screamed in shock.
“Hey ‘Lanna,” it was Tom, undoubtedly.
“Thomas Eugene Paris,  if you ever do that to me again....” but she was interrupted by him leaning down and kissing her.
“On the other hand,” she smiled up at him, as he slowly pulled her over to the couch, and they both sat down.
“So, how was work?” Tom asked, half interested.
“How was your?” B’Elanna shot back.
“I asked first,”  Paris smiles, and her reached over and pushed a lock of her hair out of her eyes, “you need to get that cut.”
“I know. How was work?”
“I asked first and you know it.  You have to answer first,” he smiled again, and leaned over and kissed ehr on the cheek.
“Well, fine then.  It was okay, but we’ve been having trouble with one of the systems.”
“Which one?”  he half-heartedly’ asked.
“Do you really care?”
“No.. not really,”  he laughed.
“Fine, be that way,” she joked, trying to sound  irritated, but also let him know that she wasn’t mad.
“Okay, I will,” he retorted, with the same mocking tone.
“How was your day?” she asked, and kissed him softly.
“It was okay,” he paused, as if trying to remember something.
“I can’t seem to remember, maybe a kiss would help me remember,” he replied in a less-than-serious tone.
“Like this,” Torres leaned over and let herself relax in his arms, and kissed him once more.
“That works,” he let the silly grin broaden, “now I remember, stay right here, I’ll be right back,” and he gently let go of her, and rushed into the other room.

When he came back, he had his arms behind his back.
“What do you have back there?” she interrogated.
“For me?”
“You could say that.”
“Well, what is it?” she impatiently asked.
Paris walked over in front of where she was sitting, and knelt down on one knee.
He opened the box, reveling a gold ring, “B’Elanna Torres, will you marry me?”
She slid off the couch onto the one of his knees that was raised, and wrapped her arms around his neck.  She leaned in closer, and Tom put his knee down, so they were both sitting on their knees.  But Torres didn’t stop leaning in until she was right up against him, and she kissed him, and he kissed her.  And when Tom finally pulled away, he let the expression of happiness glide onto his face.
“So, is that a yes?”
She let the hint of maybe/maybe not creep into her eye, before simply stating, “no.”


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