Disclaimer: There's sex in this, all happy heterosexual sex between consenting adults, so you probably won't be condemned to hell for reading it if you happen to believe in that sort of thing (hell, I mean, not reading). Let's see, what else. Oh, yeah: Star Trek Voyager, and all the characters in the story are copyright and trademark Paramount Pictures and yadda-yadda-boom-tiddley-boom. No copyright infringement is intended. Please don't sue me: I have a wife, a kid, and several hundred tribbles to feed.

Private Line

By Captain Jinx
(c/o redshoes@ix.netcom.com)

Tom Paris was asleep.

This, in and of itself, was not the problem. Neither was it all that uncommon. He liked to sleep. He was good at it. There had been a time in his life -- the prime sleep years between sixteen and eighteen -- when he would have listed "horizontal and unconscious" as among his favorite hobbies.

So, sleeping, per se, wasn't the problem.

The problem was sleeping alone.

He was aware, very aware, of the fact that he was asleep and there was no warm thigh brushing up against his own, no soft breath on the back of his neck, no cool caress...

No, waitaminute. If he was aware of it, then he wasn't asleep.

Tom Paris groaned, opened his eyes, and looked around for his clock. The fluorescent tips of the hands pointed at 3:10 AM. Not enough light to see anything else, though he didn't have to see to know he was making a little pup tent with the sheet. He patted B'Elanna's side of the bed -- just making absolutely sure. Nope, nobody there.

The Captain hadn't been kidding about this. Six weeks into the refit and Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres hadn't slept together more than a half-dozen times. And the times that they had slept together, they slept. Too tired to do anything else. Well, not Tom. Tom had laid there awake for a looong time listening to her breathe, wondering what she would say if he touched her right there or stroked that part there... But, in the end, he had relented. He had been given his orders. B'Elanna needed all the sleep she could get. She was a busy, busy woman, probably the busiest woman on Voyager, even more than the Captain these days when you came right down to it. Even with all the hours the Captain was putting in down in Main Engineering, she was still just doing whatever B'Elanna told her to do.

It did Captain Janeway good, too, Tom thought, to not be the one giving orders for a while, to just be a pair of hands. She looked happier these days, more content than she had, since, well, ever. Of course, that might have something to do with the night B'Elanna had spotted her going into the sundries shop in the hotel lobby looking in the lingerie section. There were those who said that the Commander looked pretty happy these days, too, but Tom didn't know about that. He could never tell if Chakotay was happy or not.

Tom reached over and patted his bedside table, looking for his comm badge. He picked it up, tapped it twice and spoke B'Elanna's name -- a page signal. A few seconds passed, then the badge cheeped. It was a signal they had worked out -- B'Elanna wasn't too busy to answer him.

"Hi, Tom."

"Hello, love."

"What are you doing awake at this hour? Don't you have a sick bay shift tomorrow?"

"In reverse order: yes; and thinking of you."

She laughed. "At 3 AM. I can just imagine."

"At this point, imagination will have to do. Where are you?"

"Right this moment in my office. I'm putting together the work schedule for tomorrow. I have a meeting with Rollins in, oh, twenty-five minutes, to go over third shift's schedule. They've been falling behind." B'Elanna had come to find that it was easier to do the administrative work late at night and save her hands-on time for the day shift. Whatever negative things she found to say about her half-Klingonese metabolism, it gave her incredible stamina. She'd been working double shifts, more or less, for the last three weeks and still wasn't showing any signs of stress or fatigue. Of course, the fact that most of the problems they encountered were technically feasible and she had all the help she could want relieved some of the load.

"So, no chance you're going to make it back here before I have to get up?"

B'Elanna sighed. "No. Doesn't look like it's going to happen. Sorry, Tom."

"I miss you."

"I miss you, too."

Both paused, waiting for the other to speak. This had been happening a little bit too often lately, these pauses. It was, Tom supposed, mostly because there wasn't enough happening to them as a couple for them to have things to discuss. Sure, there was always work and during the day discussing work was fine. But at 3 AM, discussions of work just didn't cut it.

"Captain Janeway said this was going to happen."

"What did she say was going to happen?" B'Elanna shot back, slightly piqued. "When was this?"

"Hey, hey, relax," Tom said, trying to soothe her. Maybe the strain was starting to get to B'Elanna. "I should have phrased that differently. It was a friendly conversation -- a motherly conversation. You know how she gets..."

"Oh, you mean the kind where she touches you."

"Right. Yes. One of those."

"That really used to unnerve me. I couldn't get used to a Captain who touched me, but now it seems very, well, natural. Comforting somehow."

"Yeah. I know what you mean. Speaking of being touched..."

"You have a one-track mind," B'Elanna laughed.

"That is not true. But even if it was," Tom said, "it would be one of the characteristics that makes me the best pilot in the Delta Quadrant."

B'Elanna laughed again.

"So, how long until Rollins comes down?"

"About twenty mintues now."

"Hmmm," Tom thought aloud. "Too little time for me to come down and see you first."

"True. Besides, I have to go check on the test coils we set up this morning. But you can talk to me while I work."

"Oh, goody. What shall I talk about?"

"I don't know," B'Elanna said. Tom heard the background noise change -- a low throbbing hum filled in the low end of the transmission -- as B'Elanna stepped through the door from her office into Main Engineering. "Tell me a story."

"A story?" Tom laughed. "Like what? Goldilocks and the Three Bears?"

"No, not a kid's story. Tell me a grown-up story. Tell me..." Her voice dropped. "Tell me what you're going to do the night that this job is finished."

Tom suddenly became aware of his cock again. His pup tent had collapsed, but now the central support was shifting again. "What I'm going to do?" He was aware that his own voice had dropped an octave, too, though there was no one near to hear him. "Is there anyone standing close by?"

"Nope," B'Elanna said, and he knew that she had that look on her face. The "I'm-up-for-anything" look. "Skeleton crew tonight." Tom grinned.

"Okay," he said. "The first thing I'm going to do is take that engineering smock and burn it."

"Tom! I love my smock!"

"I know you do, but we've been seeing entirely too much of it lately. Okay, so I won't burn it. I'll... misplace it for a while."

"That's fine. Then what?"

"Then, I'm going to undress you and carry you into the shower, lather you up and scrub your back, your legs, the bottom of your feet, your neck, your breasts, your thighs, everything, for about two hours..."

B'Elanna sighed. "But I'll get all pruney..."

"I'll use lots of moisturizer on you afterwards. After drying you off, I'll wrap you in a large, white fluffy towel, lay you down, massage every inch of your body, then anoint you with unguents and emollients..."

"Where are you going to get unguents and emollients?"

"I'll ask Neelix. He's the Morale Officer. He must have some somewhere..."

B'Elanna laughed. "Fine. How thoroughly will you anoint me?"

"Very thoroughly. Very, very thoroughly. You'll be like a seal. Then, after perfuming you to within an inch of your life, I'll help you pick out your outfit."

"Oh, so we're going out?"

"Absolutely," Tom said. "I have to show you off, don't I? The woman who turned this pitiful wreck into a working ship again..."

"Be nice what you say about my ship."

"It's the Captain's ship..."

"Not when it's in drydock. We made a deal. When it's in drydock, it's mine. In hard vacuum again, I turn it back over."

"Okay, okay. Your ship. Anyway, your outfit."

"My outfit. What do I go for? Elegant or shameful?"

"Depends. You want to awe the masses or simply drive them insane?"

B'Elanna considered for a moment. There was also the sound of something being turned, tiny clicking noises. "I think... awe," she said.

"Okay. Easy. The long, chocolate-brown dress. The one with no back..."

"Tom Paris! That thing wasn't meant to worn in public! I got that for..."

"Hey. This is my fantasy, remember."

"All right. The long, chocolate-brown dress. You know that it's physically impossible to wear any kind of underwear underneath that thing."

"Well, nothing that would really count, anyway. Maybe a pair of whisper-thin panties. The black ones, I'd say."

"Oh, I can see where this is going," B'Elanna said.

"Any objections?"

"No, go ahead. You have about... 15 minutes."

"Fine. What are you doing now?"

"If you must know... I'm standing in front of the secondary magnetic coupling station..."

"The one that has that oscillation that you've never been able to correct."

"Right. And I'm looking at the panel and to do that, I have to straddle the conduit..."

"The one that shudders slightly..."

"Right." B'Elanna gave a slight moan. "Unless you have to work on fine-tuning it." Tom could hear that she was breathing more heavily now. "Keep talking. What are you wearing?"

Tom grinned and reached down to the waistband of his shorts and loosened the tie.

"Wearing? Oh, I'm wearing my gym shorts and a tee..."

"No," she said again more firmly. "I mean, '_What are you wearing?_'"

"Oh. Huh? Oh! " Tom corrected his course. "I'm wearing my, uh, my black pants, you know..."

"The leather ones..."

"Right. And, oh, I don't know, how about my white pullover? And my boots?"

"And your duster..."

"And my duster..."

"And your black silk boxer shorts..."

"Are you sure?"

"What do you mean?"

"As opposed to, say, nothing at all?"

B'Elanna paused, obviously deeply in thought about this complex engineering problem. "Hmmm, no. I think with the boxers. Too obvious otherwise."

"Okay. So, we go out to dinner at the hotel. And every man who sees you loses control."

"And every woman who sees you..."

"If you say so... And we have a corner table and are sitting side-by-side so while we're eating I can stroke your thigh. Remember that staff meeting last month, the one where you were sitting next to me and I started rubbing your thigh under the table...?"

"Yes. I thought you were out of your mind. And I think Chakotay noticed, too. But it felt so good."

"And you jumped me in the turbolift."

"Decks 3 through 11. Those were good decks."

"Right. Well, this is like that. I'm touching you on the thigh and reaching around behind you and touching your back..."

"I reach over and massage your cock through your pants."

Tom groaned. He pulled hard on his cock and felt a tiny bead of moisture at the tip. He rubbed that bead around the head and on the underside. "Okay, good. Just don't ask me to get up anytime soon." B'Elanna groaned slightly. "You all right?" he asked.

"Yes," she breathed softly. "Just making some delicate adjustments."

"So, after dinner, we go dancing. Slow dancing. Soft lights, low music. Nobody else on the dance floor. I have my hand on your hip and we're moving very slowly. "

"Do you have your crotch pressed into mine?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes. You're wearing your duster. Nobody can see."

"And there's nobody watching, anyway..."

"Nobody?" B'Elanna asked plaintively.

"Well, a few people. Just a few. Maybe Chakotay is one of them. He's all by himself..." Tom couldn't help but get a bit of sadistic pleasure from that mental picture.

"Oh, no," B'Elanna breathed softly. "The Captain is with him. They're holding hands and watching us. One minute we can see them and then we do a turn and when we look again, they're gone..."

"If that does it for you, love..."

"I think it's very romantic," she said.

"Fine," Tom said, rolling his eyes. She wasn't there. She wouldn't know.

"And don't roll your eyes."

"Fine," he repeated. "I've lost my place."

"We were dancing."

Right, Tom thought. And I was pulling on my cock. "We were dancing and I pull you closer. I'm touching the curve of your hip and stroking your lower back. My finger dips down into the back of your dress and I touch the spot just above the crack of your ass, that little indentation..." B'Elanna groaned. "And I take your hand and escort you to our limo."

"Our what?"

"One of those conveyances on the Boulevard. The kind with the screened in passenger area."

"Oh. And what are you planning on doing there?"

"I'm going to feed you oysters on the half-shell and pour you very small glasses of Venusian Red."

"What's that?"

"A kind of red wine they grow on Mars. Supposed to stimulate sexual impulses."

"Why do they call it Venusian Red if they grow it on..."

"...Mars, yes, everyone asks that. I don't know. Maybe they decided 'Martian Red' sounded like a joke. In any case, it's rare and wonderful. Like you."

"Aww," B'Elanna said, her tone slightly different from before. "Tom, that's so sweet. But I don't want sweet right now."

"No?"

"No."

"Good. Because as soon as you've eaten a dozen oysters and drunk three small glasses of wine, I'm going to slip the right strap of your dress off your shoulder and kiss the nipple of your right breast."

"Mmmm," B'Elanna said. "I can feel that."

"Then, I'm going to lick it lightly and the air is slightly cool, so it's going to get very stiff."

"And, speaking of stiff, I'm going to lightly scratching your cock through the leather of your pants."

"Still wishing I had my boxers on?"

"You took them off in the men's room just before we left the restaurant..."

"Good. I'm sucking on your right nipple and lightly touching the other through the fabric of your dress."

"The other shoulder strap is falling down..."

"And I can see the curve of your left breast from the corner of my eye. The way it slopes down into the shadow of the front of your dress is making me crazy." Tom was stroking his cock lightly now, not giving it too much tension, because he was afraid he'd finish too soon. "I touch your ankle with my free hand."

"What kind of shoes am I wearing?"

Tom drew a blank for a moment. His fantasies rarely had shoes in them. Call it a weak spot, he thought. My Achilles heel... "A pair of sandals. Silver. Very tiny straps. They go up your calf partway..."

"Oh, good. They sound right."

Tom had to pause and think about that for a moment. "Right. And I'm running my hand up your calf and the dress is slithering down around your waist."

"And I'm not wearing anything underneath."

"No," Tom said, "Not under that dress. Except your panties. I can see the waistband of your panties peeking out of the top of the dress."

"And I'm unsnapping your pants. Unzipping them. I can smell you. You've been perspiring..."

"And you're cool, so I stand up and take off my duster. I wrap it around your shoulders so you'll have a cushion..."

"And while you're standing up, I yank your pants down, pull your cock out, and suck you in down to the base..."

"Whoa!" Tom said aloud. Wasn't expecting that.

"And I can smell your musk and the leather and your aftershave all at once, and I swirl the tip of my tongue around your cock and feel you pulsing." Tom began to pull at his cock more urgently. He could feel the pulse there beating more urgently, obeying the thrusting tone of his lover's voice.

"And I run my fingers through your hair with one hand and reach down to caress your nipple with the other."

"Pinch it."

"Okay," Tom said. "I pinch it. I pull on it until it's long and hard."

"Just like your cock." B'Elanna was speaking more and more breathlessly and he began to wonder if anyone down in Engineering could hear her.

"And just before you start to come, I grab the base of your cock and squeeze it so you won't come..." Tom let go of his cock. He was just about to let go with a gale-force warp 9.9 orgasm... "And I stand up and let the dress slide to the floor."

"So that the only thing stopping me is your black panties."

"Except these aren't the black panties you were thinking of... These don't have a crotch in them." Tom almost shot his load without touching his cock imagining that particular sight.

"I push you back onto the seat and grab you around the waist..."

"Roughly..."

"But not too roughly..."

"Tom, this is my fantasy. I said, 'Roughly!'"

"Okay, okay. I grab you roughly and make you kneel on the seat in front of me..."

"Oh, yes..."

"And I slide my cock in from behind."

"Oh, yes, please..."

"And I start to fuck you slowly, very slowly at first."

"And I push back against you, straining to get as much of you in as I can, but I can't, I can't, it's just too big." Tom began pulling on his cock in earnest, the pre-cum oozing out, lubricating his hand.

"And my cock is throbbing deep inside you, pulsing, and you're hot, hot, so hot, wrapped around me like a vise."

"And I reach around under me and touch your balls, feel them as they slap into my ass, touch my clit, bring myself closer... But it isn't going... to... take...much."

And as she said the word "Much," Tom Paris felt his soul boil up through his cock and out into the cool evening air. He lost sensation in his hand and dropped the comm badge. When he regained some of his sense of touch 30 seconds later, he felt around for his badge, found it, said, "B'Elanna? You there?"

And he heard her there-but-far-away, saying, "Yes, Rollins. No, this is fine, I think. I think I finally found the right setting. It's good. Good. Sorry, I'll be right there." And he heard her voice a little more distinctly then, softly saying, "I'll deal with you later."

And Tom Paris smiled, then reached over his head for the box of tissues. He was asleep again five minutes later.

END

Like it? Hate it? Send feedback to redshoes@ix.netcom.com, and I'll pass your comments on to Captain Jinx.

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