This story involves some of the elements of stories that have now become clichés in the P/T fanfic world. No offence is intended to anyone; this is just a story to make you smile. The corny and cheesy things mentioned here are re-occurring phrases which seem to pop up in some of the fanfics I have read (including my own), so please do not think that this is an attack against anyone personally.

Warning : What you are about to read is incredibly sappy, so make sure you have a bucket at the ready. 

Note : This story takes place some time in the second season. 

A Voyager Cliché 
by Lay McDaniel 2-12-00

<Breep bop>
B’Elanna waited outside his quarters, tapping her foot impatiently.
<Breep bop>
“Computer, location of Tom Paris.”
“Tom Paris is in his quarters.” 
So why wasn’t he answering the door?
She overrode the door access, and stepped inside. “Tom? Tom, are you there?”
She made her way silently to the darkened sleeping quarters, where she saw a still form lying beneath the covers. It was Paris, who had evidently over-slept. She knelt down, gazing at his handsome features, thinking how child-like he looked in his sleep. She had to stifle the urge to smooth back a lock of fair hair which lay across his forehead. 
She shook him gently, trying to get him to wake up. But something was wrong. He wasn’t waking up. Was he unconscious? Or...dead? 
“Torres to Sickbay. Medical emergency.” 

The two arrived in sickbay, B’Elanna cradling the pilot in her arms. 
“What happened?” asked the EMH, lifting the helmsman onto a biobed. 
“I don’t know – I found him like that in his quarters. Will he be all right?” 
The Doctor frowned as he activated the arch. “He’s dead.” 
B’Elanna gasped in horror. Tom… dead? 
“No,” she screamed, feeling the tears running down her face. “He can’t die. I love him. I love him, and I never got to tell him that.”
The Doctor merely ignored the display of melodrama going on in front of him, held up a hypospray and announced “I’m detecting some minute brain activity. Stand back whilst I try to revive him.” 
B’Elanna watched as the pilot’s body jerked under the electrical current being pumped into him. “It’s not working!” she cried.
The Doctor looked up at her. “I’m afraid that the lieutenant has lost the will to live. I cannot revive him if he doesn’t want to be brought back.” 
The engineer flung herself onto the helmsman. “Tom, listen to me,” she shouted. “You have to come back. I need you. I love you. Please come back.” 
Suddenly a beeping filled the air. The EMH looked up in astonishment. “Brain activity is rising. I don’t know how you did it, but he’s waking up. Keep talking to him.” 
B’Elanna suddenly felt flustered. “What should I say?” 
“I don’t know – talk about the composition of the bulkheads or something. Sing for all I care.” 
Now there was an idea. Leaning over the young man, she started singing an old Earth song from the 20th century called “As Long As You Love Me” by a band called “Backstreet Boys”.

“Although loneliness has always been a friend of mine, I'm leaving my life in your hands 
People say I'm crazy and that I am blind
Risking it all in a glance 
And how you got me blind is still a mystery
I can't get you out of my head 
Don't care what is written in your history 
As long as you're here with me.”

“It’s working,” said the Doctor, as the half-Klingon’s beautiful voice carried through sickbay. 
B’Elanna watched as Tom’s eyelids fluttered and opened, revealing his sky-blue eyes. “Hey,” she said. 
“Hey yourself,” he whispered back. 
“I was so worried about you. I was afraid that you would never awake. I wanted to tell you that I love you.”
Paris smiled. “I love you too, B’Ella. I’ve always loved you; even before we even met, I loved you. You are my angel. My heart. My sunshine. My life. Oh, marry me Bea.”
B’Elanna thought she would burst with joy. “I will, Tom.”
The couple were interrupted by Janeway and Chakotay entering sickbay.
“Tom, what happened?” said the Captain, worry filling her voice. “Are you all right ?” 
“Yes, I’m fine ma’am,” he said with an impish grin. “Lanna and I have decided to get married.” 
Janeway enfolded her pilot and her chief engineer in a motherly hug. “I’m so proud of you two,” she said. “I always knew you would get together. Tom, you found a way into B’Elanna’s heart by showing her who she was. B’Elanna, you penetrated Tom’s walls and defences and got to know the real Tom Paris.”
The happy pair smiled at each other shyly. 
Then Chakotay spoke up. “I’ll admit Tom, I didn’t always like you. But over the years, I’ve formed a grudging respect. Despite your devil-may-care attitude, you’ve shown yourself to be a fine officer; brave, loyal and courageous. But if you hurt B’Elanna, I’ll kill you.” 
The last sentence was said with a twinkle in his eye. They all laughed and exchanged hugs and kisses. The Doctor grew irritated and told them to keep the noise down, but that only made them laugh harder. 


Janeway looked round at the crew, beaming. “Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Lieutenant Tom Paris, and Lieutenant B’Elanna Torres. Both have decided to exchange their own vows.”
She nodded to the pilot, who was dressed in black trousers and sky-blue shirt which set off his eyes perfectly. Tom took his cue, and cleared his throat.
“B’Ell. You are the most beautiful woman in the entire universe” (B’Elanna looked away happily – she knew she was quite ugly, but when Tom said it, she could almost believe it), “and I love you with every single cell of my body. My cytoplasm, mitochondria, microvilli and nuclei all sing out “I love you.” Even my cell membranes adore you. I promise to worship you with every breath I have until we die of old age, and flights of angels sing us to heaven.” 
 The crew sighed in unison at these heartfelt words. Even Tuvok’s eyes got a little misty. 
 Then it was B’Elanna’s turn. Staring up at his sky-blue eyes, she said “Tom, I love everything about you. I love your sandy-blond hair, and your height which towers over my petite figure. I love the way you relieve the tension on the bridge by cracking jokes. I love your crooked little smile. I love the vulnerability you show when you let your mask down. And most of all, I love your blue eyes, which are as blue as the warp core. I promise to love you throughout all eternity and beyond.”
 They then exchanged rings, and Janeway pronounced them husband and wife. The crew cheered and threw confetti over the lovers as they kissed each other tenderly. The kiss was full of love and of promise for their future.
 “May I say a few words?” asked Harry, after the happy couple came up for air. “Go ahead,” Janeway nodded at him.
 “First of all, I’d like to say how happy I am at my two best friends getting married. Tom has always been a big brother to me, and although he gets me into a lot of scrapes sometimes” (chuckles from the crew) “he has been the bestest friend anyone could ever hope for. I know that it was hard for him at the beginning – not knowing anyone, being labelled a traitor and a womaniser. But gradually his easy-going attitude and his courage won the crew over. A great future lies ahead of you two. I wish you all the best.” 
 “Hear hear,” said everyone. 
 “If you’ll excuse us now,” said B’Elanna, “we are going to the holodeck to start our honeymoon.”
 And the two lovebirds left, Tom gazing into his wife’s chocolate-brown eyes, eager in anticipation of their wedding night, and B’Elanna, gazing into her husband’s ocean-blue eyes, her mind filled with beautiful young daughters with barely pronounced ridges, and of fair-haired sons with cerulean eyes. 


To quote a certain blue-eyed pilot – “Pretty disgusting, huh?”
My apologies for any feelings of nausea I might have caused. 

The End