Title: "Playthings"
Author: Annie M (trekgirl@mushy.freeserve.co.uk)
Rating: NC-17
Codes: P/T
Date: August 28, 2001

Summary:  Set shortly after the episode "Renaissance Man," but
before "Endgame."  B'Elanna tries to keep her promise and "make
some time" for Tom before the baby comes.

My intention for this story was simply to write a naughty little
PWP for my own enjoyment as I haven't found many new stories of
this ilk (P/T anyway) this summer.  As is the muse's habit my
ultimate goal was forced to take an unexpected turn.  I hope you
enjoy it.

Feel free to send feedback; I always appreciate it.

My thanks to DangerMom for beta reading and for the many much
needed corrections.

Disclaimer: Voyager and its characters belong to Paramount.  Fate
is cruel isn't it?   (c) Annie M--August 27, 2001.

~*~ ~*~

By Annie M

~*~ ~*~

She didn't find him in the usual place.

Tom, as was his recent habit, wasn't working on the Delta Flyer.
His final shift in sickbay had ended some time ago, and B'Elanna,
all too aware that he knew she'd probably still be working in
Engineering--way past her own shift--had assumed she'd find him
among the innards of his favourite plaything.

*One of his favourite playthings,* she mused.

Casting a quick look around the quiet shuttle bay, she asked the
computer for her husband's location.

"Lieutenant Paris is in holodeck two," was the computer's

"Figures," B'Elanna said aloud, the holodeck being another of the
more notorious Paris playthings.  As she made her way out of the
bay towards the holodeck, B'Elanna speculated about what sort of
program Tom was running, or tweaking, or designing for one of the
crew, or for general public access; he had a long list of
programs after all.

~*~ ~*~

The privacy lock was on when she got there and B'Elanna hesitated
for a second before using her Chief Engineer's prerogative to
enter the program.  Reinitialising the lockout once she was
inside, she scanned the unfamiliar vista before her.

She found herself in a steel grey enclosure; light grey metal
framework set against a darker grey expanse of panelling, the
harsh white lights all around adding to the sombre design.

B'Elanna surmised that she was in some sort of facility, and from
the dour grey that suffused everything within sight she got the
distinct feeling she was in a Federation designed building.  The
walls were close together, offering less than about a one-meter
gap on either side of her as she walked.  What appeared to be
small private enclosures were set against the wall; the doors to
the enclosures were high, grey and smooth, with what looked like
sensor devices running along the length of the floor and ceiling.

Pausing to take it all in, B'Elanna thought it odd that Tom would
design something so... sterile.

B'Elanna experienced a sense of déjà vu, as if she were walking
along Voyager's corridors for the first time, recalling the anger
and unease with which she'd boarded the vessel along with her
Maquis crewmates so many years ago.  But there was no carpet
here--only more grey; the painful unnatural light; sharp angles--
and much less room.

Spotting what looked like a control terminal at the other end of
the hallway, she quickly made her way towards it, hoping that
this facility wasn't what she was starting to think it was.

As B'Elanna tapped in a few rudimentary commands, her suspicions
were soon confirmed.  She activated a bio-scan, which revealed
that there was only one other occupant here apart from herself;
not that she'd doubted that.  Quickly getting a feel of the
computer's protocols, she hit another series of commands and
looked up suddenly as she heard several mechanisms whir to life.
Double-checking the readings on the panel B'Elanna made her way
back up the passage to one of the enclosures.

~*~ ~*~

The high grey door activated as she stood before it, sliding with
a hiss into the wall.  The room, such as it was, was yet another
representation of cold metallic grey; a two meter by three meter
box with a small narrow bed, a single shelf on the opposite wall,
a latrine and a wash basin.  The room's occupant was half lying,
half sitting on the bunk, his back against the wall, a PADD
resting against his chest and he appeared to be--

*God, how could he be...?*

Sleeping soundly.

B'Elanna stole another look around the depressing quarters before
moving to sit, as quietly and as carefully as she could, next to
her sleeping husband.    Squirming uncomfortably as she tried to
find a decent position to accommodate her expanding belly on the
edge of the undersized bunk, B'Elanna realised that Tom's longer
frame would never be able to lie on this bed in any comfort; his
legs would be dangling over the edge, forcing him to sleep, as he
was now, reclined against the wall or he'd have to curl himself
up into a foetal ball on his side.

For several minutes, B'Elanna watched her husband, lover, friend
and mate sleep, pondering why he'd create this place, and why
he'd choose to spend any time here now... sleeping peacefully of
all things.  She felt her mouth quirk despite her misgivings;
Mister Predictable Tom was most certainly not.  She noted the
PADD against his chest and reached for it, carefully balancing
herself with one hand pressed flat against the wall and with one
of her legs cocked, ungainly and bent, as she tried to steady
herself on the ball of her left foot.

Her pregnancy was becoming more and more pronounced, and with it
she knew her temper and forbearance were becoming harder to
control.  B'Elanna was more than ready to have this child; she
was well into her third trimester and couldn't wait to have full
and athletic control of all her limbs once more, although she
also conceded to herself that her life would change, irrevocably,
once the baby came.

Finally and successfully wresting the PADD off Tom's chest,
B'Elanna had a sudden urge to smack him across the legs with it.
He'd put her in this position after all, using his flyboy tactics
to romance her and then knock-her-up.  *He*--the bastard--still
went on dangerous missions and flew Voyager and shuttles at the
drop of a hat, and what was she doing?  Confined to engineering;
lighter duty schedules when the EMH ordered it; coddled by the
Captain and Chakotay; continuously interrogated by Seven and
Icheb on each stage of her pregnancy; given special treatment at
meal times in the Mess Hall by Neelix, who constantly hovered
over her fussing about new babies and the joys of family...
B'Elanna paused mid-thought... he used to.

*Damn it!* she cursed within, *Neelix isn't even on board any
more and it's worse trying to put up with that crazy oaf, Chell!*

She didn't need this shit, she just wanted her life back--or
something--just not this perpetual growing and waiting.

B'Elanna sighed heavily, shaking her head to rid herself of that
moment of anger.  She really didn't mind the extra attention, and
she sincerely missed Neelix and his homespun Talaxian wisdom, but

She left the thought unfinished and focused instead on the grey
walls, concentrating her breathing inward, blinking her eyes to
clear away the negative thoughts.  Readjusting herself against
Tom's legs she eventually activated the PADD and began to read:

'Starfleet Medical Training 7.5 -- Postnatal traumas; clinical
depression; parent bonding; mother and baby nutritional needs.'

"Oh, that's just great!" B'Elanna snorted aloud.  She felt Tom
stir against her legs, but she ignored him and scrolled down to
the next group of texts, which she noted were translations from
the original Klingon language.

'Klingon Women--The Warrior Beside You:
Understanding your mate; maintaining a passionate union;
pregnancy; intimate pre and postnatal fulfilment; child rearing;
family rituals.'

B'Elanna rolled her eyes and smirked as she read on.  At least
her big jerk of a husband was being thorough in his
investigations of her impending motherhood.  So typical, she
thought, always reading technical manuals.

"What's so funny?"

B'Elanna, momentarily startled, turned to face her sleepy-looking

"Interesting reading," she said, throwing the PADD lightly so it
landed with a little thud against Tom's chest.  "Where are we?"
she asked after another minute while she watched him rub the
sleep from his eyes and flex his muscles as he stretched to full

"Huh?" Tom said, still rubbing the kinks out of his neck.

B'Elanna swept out her hand and gestured to their meagre

"Oh."  He paused for several moments and scratched his head.
"B'Elanna, how did you get in here?"

Pushing his legs off the side of the bed, B'Elanna shrugged and
moved to sit by Tom's side.  "You don't really need me to answer
that do you?"  Tom bent to rest his arms on his thighs, staring
down at his boot covered feet he shook his head in response.

"So, where are we?" she patiently asked again.

Tom raised his head slowly and looked at his wife.  "I think you
know," he answered quietly.

B'Elanna nodded in agreement; reaching out to him she rubbed the
flat of her palm against his back and shoulders.  Tom exhaled a
small groan and leaned further into her touch.  "Feels good," he

"Why here, Tom?" B'Elanna couldn't help asking.  "After all this
time, why here... now?  You know they'd never send you back,
don't you?"

In the crew's many communications with Starfleet headquarters
over the past several months, Captain Janeway had insistently
requested that any outstanding charges levied against her
combined crew should be viewed as time served on Voyager.
Janeway reasoned that should her crew make it home in the near
future, bearing in mind the Dominion war and the ravaged state
that Cardassia still languished in, that the Federation's former
allies-turned-enemies now position-undisclosed lacked any serious
power to protest such a ruling.

Starfleet's bureaucratic chain of command had kept Janeway
waiting for a decision for several weeks, but eventually they'd
conceded and had pledged that her crew, with the exception of the
Equinox Five, would be assured of freedom upon their return.
Federation citizenship for all the former Maquis was an ongoing
and more complicated matter.

"Yeah," Tom responded, "I know."  He turned towards B'Elanna
fully and she was surprised to see his usual cocky grin curling
at the edges of his mouth.  Withdrawing her hand from his
shoulder, he pulled it into his lap and laced their fingers
together.  "I wasn't trying to see if I could still hack prison,
B'Elanna; you know I hate it."

New Zealand; his Benari ordeal; Aquitiri... thirty days in
Voyager's Brig.

B'Elanna's back instantly shuddered in remembrance, especially of
the last, and she pulled her hand away from Tom's to rub it
soothingly over her taught abdomen in a completely instinctive

~*~ ~*~

Tom sensed the slight tension in her body as she drew her hand
from his.  "Here," he said, getting to his feet.  "Lie back on
the bed."

"I'm fine," B'Elanna growled, though she moved back against the
warm, crushed, threadbare linen, allowing Tom to raise her feet
and place them on the thin mattress.

"I'll get those."  Tom moved quickly to re-plump the two sparse
pillows he'd been leaning on.  Once she was settled a little more
comfortably B'Elanna asked:

"Why here, Tom?"

Tom looked down at his wife, her expression was so serious and he
could tell that she was trying hard not to show how concerned she
was for him.  He could certainly understand why spending time in
this place would look pretty strange, and if she were the type--
and thank, God, she wasn't--she'd have commed the doctor the
moment she'd figured out where they were.

"For a long time, I thought this was where I'd be coming back to,
even after more than a couple of years out here in the Delta
Quadrant."  Moving closer to B'Elanna he dropped to one knee and
took one of hands; stroking it gently.  "I was terrified," Tom
confessed, dropping his gaze to their linked fingers.

"But I've been thinking a lot; about us, the baby, our lives
together and the home we have here on Voyager.  Everything that
happened... back there... in the Alpha Quadrant--sometimes it
doesn't feel real anymore."

Tom knew B'Elanna could understand that much, she'd said the same
a few times about her own past with the Maquis.

"Designing this program was a way... hell, B'Elanna, I think it
was just a way for me to say good-bye to all this."

"What do you mean?" B'Elanna asked, her expression one of

"I don't need to chase the demons of my past away anymore.
Somewhere in our crazy journey across the Delta Quadrant, this
place stopped scaring the shit out of me, B'Elanna.  I still have
the occasional nightmare--"

Tom paused as he felt B'Elanna give his hand a supportive
squeeze.  He'd inadvertently woken her several times in the past
when he'd abruptly come-to from a bad dream, always claiming that
he couldn't remember what those dreams were about; that they were
hazy images too blurred to decipher.   Too rattled to tell her
the real truth; his fear of losing her and what they had.

"Which is probably just down to too many late night snacks or a
bad batch of leola root or something."  Tom watched B'Elanna's
small grin answer his own.
"I wanted to remember that this place was real, but that it
doesn't have any hold over me anymore."

B'Elanna seemed to think about that for a minute.  "You *were*
sleeping like a baby when I got here," she admitted, managing to
sound both impressed and disgusted with Tom's self-therapy in the
same tone.

"See, that's my point," Tom went on enthusiastically.  "This
place is just a set of grey on grey walls now.  It's like sitting
in some library reading room, that's how I fell asleep," Tom
finished, his blue eyes alight with his assertion.

B'Elanna looked around once more at the frugal living quarters
her husband--then a complete non-entity to her of course--had
been subjected to.  "I guess that's a good thing," she said,
still looking thoughtful.  "But you know," she added with a small
grin, "I'd always thought that the Federation's penal
accommodations were a little more up-market than this.  How did
you ever get a good night's sleep on one of these things?" she
asked, using her free hand to pat the spare bedding.

"I don't think I could have slept well here if they'd supplied a
King size bed, B'Elanna."

"Good point."

"What made you come looking for me tonight, anyway?" Tom asked,
suddenly curious.  Normally B'Elanna would contact him over the
comm system, not seek him out directly.  "I thought you said you
were going to work late in engineering.  Did you finally get the
dilithium matrix recalibrated?"

B'Elanna's eyes took on a glazed expression for a moment, and it
seemed to Tom that she was genuinely trying to remember why she'd

"Yes, we finally got the matrix recalibrated," she answered,
nodding her head.  "Nicoletti and Gilmore are going to have to
watch the plasma flow regulators all night to be sure we've
licked this thing though."  Smiling broadly at him, she
continued, "And what may I ask is so unusual about me wanting to
spend some time with you?"  Still grinning, B'Elanna used their
still joined hands to lightly cuff Tom's chin.  "I did promise
I'd make some time for us, remember?  Not that I thought for a
second that I'd be stuck with you in a prison cell in New

Tom laughed and raised himself off his knees.  B'Elanna instantly
scooted closer to the wall making some space for her husband on
the narrow bunk.  "Well," Tom drew out, draping an arm over his
wife's shoulder to pull her closer.  "You could consider this a
conjugal visit," he teased.

"Oh, sure, Paris," B'Elanna snorted.  "Like we could have any fun
on this..." she struggled to find an adjective, "...oversized

"Wanna try?" he breathed seductively against her ear, nipping the

"Tom, don't start this," she breathed, turning her head towards
him despite her words for a series of feather light kisses.

It was awkward to caress on the narrow cot in their usual manner,
but Tom's busy fingers set to work; stroking B'Elanna's thighs,
her belly and breasts in a slow but determined manner.

~*~ ~*~

B'Elanna had almost forgotten that this had been the reason she'd
gone looking for Tom in the first place.  They hadn't had a lot
of personal time together in recent weeks and she'd found herself
having to rebuff nearly all of Tom's efforts and invitations
because her department was so swamped with work.  And while
normally Tom could talk her into making love with him just about
anywhere, she wasn't about to subject her ungainly body to
fooling around in a prison cell, holodeck or no.

"Tom," she moaned, heating up like a slow burning fuse, "not in
here--no time," she gasped as she felt his fingers pinch at her
nipple roughly through her uniform.

"Computer," Tom called out while still applying dexterous
pleasure to his wife's breast, "state allotted time left in this
holodeck for Lieutenant Tom Paris?"

"Remaining time for Lieutenant Tom Paris in holodeck two is
twenty-three minutes."

"Damn.  Computer, has anyone booked holodeck time to begin
directly after Tom Paris?"


"Computer, add another hour to Lieutenant Tom Paris' holodeck
time, to run concurrent to present time allotment, and maintain
privacy lock," he requested between kisses to B'Elanna's face and

The computer's familiar beep engaged almost immediately.
"Confirmed.  One hour has now been added to Lieutenant Tom Paris'
current holodeck allotment, privacy lock to be maintained."

"Now, where were we?" Tom whispered, nipping and licking the
small exposed column of B'Elanna's throat.

"I'm too big," B'Elanna protested, her hand snaking under Tom's
uniform jacket to caress his chest.

"You're perfect," Tom crooned, rubbing a palm over her swollen

B'Elanna could feel herself capitulating--hell she'd already
kicked the barn door down by not protesting Tom's request for
extra holodeck time.  She certainly wanted him... but on a prison
cot, and nearly full term in her pregnancy?

Damn!  His fingers were coaxing her to cry out in little gasps
and moans.  She couldn't stop herself from responding, from
helping him to undress, to expose his body as he was slowly
exposing hers.  His touches were gentle yet pleasantly rough,
alternating in their pressure against her skin, his mouth and
tongue seeking hers in one demanding kiss after another.

B'Elanna's blood thrilled to the feel of his incessant caresses
and she returned them with her own, the satisfying length curling
inward towards Tom's belly exciting her ten-fold.  She nuzzled
deeper into his shoulder, marking him with her teeth, tasting his
blood and growling in desire as her mate's growing erotic scent
filled her nostrils.

Tom bent his head and started to lick and suck at B'Elanna's
nipples, carefully avoiding putting any extra pressure on his
wife's abdomen.  He'd worked them into a position where B'Elanna
was sitting astride his nakedly spread thighs.

B'Elanna felt the baby kick once against her abdomen and paused,
catching Tom's attention by tightening her hold on his hair.

"Too rough?" Tom asked in a ragged breath as his head came up to
face her, his eyes a blazing blue of devoted, but distracted
passion, his lips swollen and wet from his ministrations.
B'Elanna shook her head quickly, but placed one of his hands,
which had been beguiling her slick centre, against her taut

"She's kicking."

They paused, both panting with unfulfilled need and want, but
waited a few precious moments before:


"I feel it," Tom managed, his voice tinged with awe and pride,
but no sooner had his joy been revealed, his expression became
thoughtful and he frowned.

B'Elanna knew instinctively what her husband was thinking, and
from the way he'd already turned her inside out with pleasure,
there was definitely no going back.

"You know we can't hurt her, Tom, not if we go slow and easy,"
B'Elanna encouraged.  "And I know you've read all the texts on
this stuff," she couldn't help adding with a sly grin, knowing it
would get him back into the mood.

"Slow..." Tom nodded, leaning in to plant a warm kiss along
B'Elanna's throat.  "Easy..." he said, continuing down with
another kiss.  "I'll be..." another kiss, this time to her
collarbone.  "Gentle..." and another, delving lower still.
"I..." his lips brushed an erect nipple and B'Elanna hiccupped a
low moan.  "Promise," he said, biting lightly into her sensitive

B'Elanna cried out, scoring Tom's shoulders with her nails as she
bucked against him.  "Oh, God.  Now, Tom," she demanded, flexing
her thighs across his, feeling blindly for the instrument that
would seal their joining, lowering herself upon him, her eyes
open wide watching his.  Tom's mouth opened as he used his two
hands to steady B'Elanna's decent, letting her down on him at her
own pace.

B'Elanna heard Tom's heady groan of self-restraint blend together
with her own as she settled above him.  Their breathless moans
reverberating around the small cell as B'Elanna flexed and slowly
gyrated herself upon Tom's lap, her distended belly brushing
against his firm middle intensifying her own pleasure.

True to his words, Tom was gentle; burying his head against
B'Elanna's neck, where he licked and kissed at her sweat dampened
skin as he rocked slowly and sensuously under her.

They came together like a rolling tide, gasping and crying out as
they held on to each other through each wave of their
ejaculations, vibrating within and without to the uncontrollable

~*~ ~*~

"Tom?"  B'Elanna reached over and shook her sleeping husband's

They'd finally left the holodeck and had returned to their
quarters by way of a site-to-site transport.  Sleep had claimed
them both almost immediately once settled, but now B'Elanna was
fully awake and feeling very uncomfortable.

"Tom?" she called again, shaking him harder.

"Mmm," came a sleepy reply.

"Tom, wake up."

"What?"  Tom turned over to find that his wife was already
sitting up in their large bed.  "What's wrong?" he questioned

"It's started, Tom," B'Elanna said between clenched teeth.

"What's started?"

"The contractions, the baby."

Suddenly alert, Tom quickly sat up.  "Are you sure?  B'Elanna,
you said we wouldn't hurt her!"

"We didn't hurt her, you idiot!" B'Elanna snapped back.  "We
just... maybe ... sort of... hurried her along," she finished
guiltily, her voice quickly losing its venom.

"Oh, God."

"We need to get to Sickbay, Tom."

"Right."  Tom was out of bed in a flash, hurrying to find his
robe.  He slowed down his pace after settling his robe over his
shoulders.  "Wait a minute, B'Elanna, let me get my tricorder, it
might be a false labour.  I was reading that sometimes Klingon

"It's not a false labour, Paris."

"B'Elanna," Tom returned more forcefully, "let me check, it won't
take a minute, all right?"

B'Elanna shrugged an assent and slid back against the pillows.

Tom quickly collected his medical tricorder from the low table
near the foot of their bed.  Returning to B'Elanna's side he
detached the small wand and proceeded to scan his wife.

"Well?" she demanded.

"Do you still feel her moving around?" Tom asked without taking
his eyes off the medical scanner.

His wife shrugged.  "She's calmed down a little bit I suppose,
but that doesn't mean anything."

"Let's give this a few more minutes, okay?"

B'Elanna rolled her eyes and grumbled, "Let me tell you
something, Paris, if you ever want to consider me one of your
playthings again--and you know what I mean, flyboy--you'd better
not tell me that I don't know when I'm about to give birth, got

"Yes, ma'am. I mean, I'm just the ship's medic, what do I know,"
he said sarcastically, glancing up at B'Elanna to annoy her with
the flash of his smug grin.

"Cut the crap, flyboy.  What's on the tricorder?"

"Well, it's what we in the medical world call a Braxton-Hicks,"
he answered smugly.

"A what?"

"False labour pains, B'Elanna.  Our little girl's putting us
through a few hoops and being testy," Tom paused to give her a
significant look.  "But she's not quite ready to give a command
performance just yet."

B'Elanna ignored his dirty look, asking incredulously, "I'm not
having the baby?"

"Not tonight," Tom said, snapping shut the tricorder and moving
to take off his robe.

"Tom, are you sure?"  B'Elanna still hadn't moved, gazing down
quizzically at her stomach as she rubbed at it reassuringly.

"Yes," he said, sliding back into bed with her and dropping a
quick kiss to her brow.

"This is your fault, you know," B'Elanna groused, finally sliding
herself deep under the covers.  "You and your conjugal visits.
Well, mister, there'll be no more playing with this toy,

Tom sighed heavily and placed his chin on B'Elanna's shoulder.
"Aww, come on, B'Elanna, why would I want lose my favourite
plaything, hmm," he said trying to charm his mercurial and
endlessly fascinating wife into a better mood.

"Don't try your hackneyed romance ploys with me, Paris.  They
won't work."

Tom smirked and leaned closer to her, so that his lips
provocatively brushed the skin below her ear.  "It's not like I'm
your favourite chew toy or anything, is it?" he whispered,
nipping her skin lightly.

"Not funny, Tom, and you can stop drooling all over me too."

Tom heaved a heavy tired sigh, pulling away from the moist spot
on B'Elanna's neck.  He rolled onto his back, but not before
pinching her bottom.

"You do that again and I'll hurt you, Tom."

"Yes, dear."

"Oh, shut up and go back to sleep."

~*~ ~*~
The End