Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing the good ship Voyager for some of my twisted
ideas! Don't sue, I'm only a broke 13-year-old! Although I would like to
borrow Harry Kim for a bit longer... LOL! Ugh, Voyager belongs to Paramount
and the Via-borg, yadda yadda yadda... I'll put them back in the display
cases when I'm done...

Feedback: pop_goddess_kaelyn@hotmail.com PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!! I need it soooo
much to keep writing! That's why half of my stories are half done!

Archiving: I'd be honored. Anywhere you want, just keep these attached, and
tell me first, preferably in a review... HINT HINT! Oh, that wasn't very
subtle... whoops!

Author's Note: Ahh, inspiration! It's always best when it comes from another
fan fic! That's what this was based on, one simple line from Katherina
Rosellini's Absolution:

"We probably would've hooked up in prison"

so, with that in mind, I give you NO BOUNDRIES

By Kaelyn Kim

"God, damnit!" Tom Paris cursed, throwing down the laser welder he'd been
fixing, cradling his burned hand in his good one. He'd been in the Auckland
Penal colony for almost a month now and figured he'd gotten used to the pain
that came with welding titanium alloys, but every time he scalded his skin,
it took him by surprise.

"What's going on, Paris?" A security guard asked tersely, walking up to the
console. She glanced down at the hand he was nursing and winced

"Nothing, just an accident," Tom murmured, turning away to hide the tears of
pain from her. She put a hand on his shoulder and turned him to face her.

"Why don't we go to the Med center and get the taken care of. It looks
painful," she suggested, leading him to the small sick-bay near the center
of the yard. He went without complaining, it hurt too much to gripe!

"Ah, Mister Paris! What have you managed to do to yourself this time?" a
sarcastic holo-gram greeted, holding a tricorder to the burn. He clucked his
tongue and shook his head, then ran a tissue regenerator over the area. The
reddish brown spot quickly vanished, and Tom breathed a sigh of relief.

Flashing a grateful smile at both the doctor and the guard, he quickly went
back to his station and picked up the welder again. The melting of the metal
soon became his sole focus and he hardly noticed when someone tapped him on
the shoulder. He spun, startled, to see his acquaintance, Jonny, with a glum

"They captured another Maquis, she's arriving today," he whispered, pointing
to the guards. They were going over security measures and murmuring within

Tom shrugged his shoulders. With his luck, it's be one of his cell mates.
Maybe even B'Elanna, that angry chief engineer! Although, that wouldn't be
so bad. He'd gotten a little... thing... for her while serving, but she'd
been cold and distant. Of course, she thought that he'd run and abandoned
the band of Maquis at their most vulnerable.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he replied, "Why should I care? I don't
have anything to do with them anymore." He turned back to the project.

"I thought you would've been more interested. They say she's from your cell.
A Klingon hybrid. Torra, I think..."

"Torres," Tom corrected immediately, not looking up from the sheet metal. "I
knew her, and she hated me. She'll act the same to me, so if it's all the
same to you, can we change the subject?" The cold edge on his voice warned
Jon away from pressing the matter, so the topic changed to 20th century
cars, a passion both shared.

* *

=I can't believe I got caught B'Elanna murmured to herself, slumping in the
seat of the small shuttle craft that would bring her to her home for the
next 6 months, Auckland Penal Colony. =And on a supply mission, of all
things. How harmless can a supply mission be? I would have figured at least
a recon mission, but no. Dishonorable, yet again, huh mother?=

"You, Klingon," the guard spat, calling her by her race. She looked up.
"Yeah, you. Come on."

"Pet'Q..." she muttered, following the human female out of the shuttle into
the blazing New Zealand summer heat. A high forcefield surrounded the camp,
rising to almost 200 meters to discourage escape attempts. Guards were
posted at the entrance, an opening in the field grid, and body searched both
the guard and herself before letting them into disease control, and finally
the forest where the prisoners were held.

The guard left after giving instructions on what to do. She was to report to
machinery and get pointers from one of the other prisoners, the blond one.
She approached the tall, blond man that was welding alloys. He didn't turn.

"Hey, blond guy, I'm here for instructions or whatever." Her voice was

He turned this time, slowly and stiffly. "Torres, is that you?"

"Yeah, what about it?" She was curious to see who it was. When the arrogant
smile and blue eyes came into view, she snorted in disgust. "Tom Paris."

* *

When Tom heard the silky, slightly husky voice of B'Elanna Torres, he
stiffened instinctually. He turned slowly to look into those deep chocolate
eyes he'd missed so much. Truth was, he hadn't had simply a "thing" for her
in the Maquis... he'd fallen in love! That fiery temper, that determination,
not to mention her exotic looks, had drawn him in.

"Tom Paris."

To his dismay, her voice was coated with disdain. He flashed her a smile,
and replied, "The one and only!"

She snorted again, and rolled her eyes. "How did you manage to get in this
much trouble. We couldn't find anything on Starfleet subspace channels about
you, so we assumed you'd taken off." Her voice had a softer, regretful tone,
but she erased it before she continued. "What did happen?"

"Well, after the Cardassian fight, I took the shuttle to Selka as ordered.
The USS Bradbury intercepted me on the way. I took them on a chase that
lasted about a nanosecond or two, and I was sentenced here about a month
ago," he explained quickly, not meeting B'Elanna's eyes. She was skeptical,
but decided to buy his story for now.

"Anyway, what am I supposed to be doing here?" B'Elanna asked, changing the

"Our main purpose in here is to restore ruins. I'm welding this alloy to
construct a shelter for the artifacts we find..."

The pair worked together comfortably, even happily at times, sometimes in
silence, then in reminiscent banter. For the first time in months, Tom felt
at ease with a woman, and didn't feel like he had to hide. It felt...

B'Elanna turned off her welder abruptly. The sky had taken on a pinkish hue
with golden ribbons lining the clouds on the horizon, and the other
prisoners were streaming into the quarters. She spared him a smile, then
turned to follow the rest of the women into her room.

End Chapter 1