After Hours

After Hours

(Sequel to "Best-Laid Plans")

~~Captain Chris and DangerMom

The week that had begun so inauspiciously somehow had settled down into a fairly predictable pattern--as close to normal as life could be on a certain starship. Things were considerably less...stormy, for two lieutenants who were managing to spend their time together without causing serious damage to each other or their surroundings.

Still, those occupying the mess hall one evening mid-week could not help a slight feeling of trepidation as Voyager's chief engineer and pilot entered and took their dinner trays to a table in the far corner. But soon everyone was able to relax and enjoy their own meals, as the atmosphere remained calm, and the conversation at one table stayed quiet.

"Harry's got a new program he'd like us to try," Tom said around bites of salad.

B'Elanna frowned slightly. " 'Us' as in the two of us, or 'us' and in 'us and Harry'?" she asked.

"Just 'us'," Tom clarified. "He wants to know how we like it before he shows it to Seven. I think he wants us to rate it for the romantic factor," he added with a smirk.

A derisive snicker escaped from B'Elanna. "As long as he doesn't want us to go on a double date with them...poor Harry. I have to give him credit for persistence."

Tom opened his mouth to comment, but was cut off by the chirping of her commbadge. "Engineering to Torres."

"Go ahead," B'Elanna said, dropping her fork in a gesture of resignation.

"Sorry to bother you, Chief, but we're monitoring a fluctuation in the anti-matter containment field," Susan Nicoletti reported briskly. "We ran a level two diagnostic of the containment system, and it came up clean, but the main panel still shows the fluctuation."

B'Elanna shook her head in exasperation. "Did you run a diagnostic on the main panel?"

"Just before we called you. We ran a level two on it, and the results came up clean, too. Wait a minute, now we're showing power output falling off by one percent, two. Power output is down four percent and falling--no, it's holding steady at five percent below normal."

She met Tom's eyes as she listened to the dialog. "I'm sorry," she silently whispered.

He raised his hands in resignation. "Not your fault," he said with a wry grin. "Go on, they need you down there. I'll be waiting when you get done."

B'Elanna reached out and clasped his hand, squeezing in silent thanks for his understanding. "I'm on my way. Inform the Bridge of the problems. Tell them I'm on it, and I don't think we'll have to drop out of warp, but not to push any harder."

"Right. See you soon, Chief. And tell Lieutenant Paris that we're sorry. Nicoletti out."

"Huh...they're sorry," Tom said, rolling his eyes.

B'Elanna gave a snort of amusement as she rose from her seat. "Well, I can't say I'll miss the food all that much, but the company--" her words trailed off as she walked around behind Tom and placed her hands on his shoulders. Leaning down, she whispered in his ear, "I promise to make this up to you."

Tom turned his head, and looked around. Seeing no one watching them, he brushed his lips across hers in a fleeting kiss. "Make sure you call me when you're through. Doesn't matter what time it is."

"Tom, I don't know what the problem is or how long--"

He silenced her by placing a finger on her lips. "No matter what time."

She smiled in response, and gave his finger a kiss. Then a mischievous glint lit her eyes, and she quickly took his finger in her mouth, sucking gently and licking the length as she released it. "Just something to whet your appetite, Helmboy," she whispered, straightening up and heading out the door.

Tom was still sitting there with a bemused look on his face when Neelix came to the table a few minutes later. "Let me guess," the Talaxian chef began, "an emergency in Engineering that only Lieutenant Torres could handle."

"Hmm?" Tom murmured as awareness of his surroundings pulled him back from the fantasy B'Elanna's parting actions had created. "Oh, Neelix! Yes, something to do with power drop-offs."

Neelix looked down at B'Elanna's abandoned, and still full tray. "So bad that she couldn't even start her dinner? Tom, we've got to do something about that. As Morale Officer, I'm lodging a complaint with you; she misses entirely too many meals."

"You think I've got any pull with her?"

"I know you have more than anyone else on this ship." He paused, his finger on his chin, and thought for a moment. Leaning forward over the table he continued in a quiet voice. "Here's what we'll do--"

Tom leaned in to hear the plan, and a smile slowly appeared on his face. The two were so wrapped up in their plotting that neither noticed Harry Kim as he walked by with Seven of Nine for another lesson in table manners.

"Hi, Tom, Neelix," he said in passing. His answer was a small wave from Tom, as he listened intently to Neelix's whisperings. Not normally one to eavesdrop, he was intrigued by what could be so fascinating Tom wouldn't even say "Hello."

Unfortunately for him, Seven of Nine returned from the table they had selected before he could overhear anything in detail. She stood there in front of him, gazing at him in curiosity. "Ensign Kim, do you wish to postpone our 'lesson'?"

"What? No, I'm sorry, Seven," he said, taking her elbow and guiding her to the table. "I was just a bit distracted there for a moment." He pulled out her chair, sliding it in when she sat. It had taken forever to get it through to her that it was just a mannerly action, not a comment on her strength or ability to maneuver a chair, but once she had learned it, she wouldn't sit at all when Harry was with her unless he performed the ritual.

His attention was then caught again by Tom and Neelix, scurrying off to the kitchen. He'd heard just enough to realize that someone was in for a real treat. Smiling to himself, he returned his attention to Seven, who had just placed her napkin in her lap. "Right, where did we leave off last time? Oh, the formal silver arrangement and which goes with what course--" Losing himself in the lesson, and the company of his student, Harry gave Tom no further thought.

***

Much later that evening, indeed, well into the wee hours of the next morning, a slightly weary and thoroughly annoyed B'Elanna Torres strode into her quarters, shedding her uniform as she made her way to the shower.

As she stepped under the hot spray, she swore fervently, calling down every curse her mother had ever forbidden her to use on the one, tiny insignificant relay that had caused all the difficulties in Engineering that night. It had taken nearly eight hours of manual testing to find the fault, and ironically only two minutes to replace it.

Of course by that time, it was so late that Neelix had shut down the mess hall for the night. And there was no way she was going to wake Tom at this hour. Sighing regretfully, she shut off the water, and proceeded to towel off, resigning herself to replicating a light snack before going to bed, alone.

She was just slipping on a long nightshirt Tom had given her when a tiny beep sounded from her desk terminal. It was immediately followed by an amused voice saying, "I know you're in there, Torres."

B'Elanna jumped in surprise. "Tom!"

"You were supposed to call me, B'Elanna."

"But it's so late..."

"I said I'd be waiting, no matter what time," he reminded her.

"But--I just got out of the shower."

There was a brief pause. "Well, as nice as that sounds, you made me a promise, remember?"

"But--" she sputtered.

"Never mind about your gorgeous butt. Just get it down to the mess hall, I'm waiting."

Not his quarters? B'Elanna hesitated only a second, then curiosity got the better of her. She started searching for a pair of pants, then decided not to waste the time. She had every intention of dragging Tom back to her quarters, and the chances of meeting someone in the halls at this hour were slim. And certainly Tom wouldn't have issued such an invitation if anyone else was in the mess hall.

***

The lights were at their lowest setting when B'Elanna entered the mess--even the night-light in the kitchen was off, for some reason. "Tom?" she called out hesitantly, trying to spot him in the semi-darkness.

"Over here," came a response, and she was finally able to make out his form against the starlight from the port. She waited a second for her vision to adjust, then made her way to the corner table where they had been sitting hours earlier.

Tom was standing to one side, dressed in an open-necked shirt and jeans, and was just placing a covered tray on the tabletop. He smiled as B'Elanna approached, then let out a low whistle as he saw what she was wearing. "If I had known you were all ready for bed, I might have changed my plans."

"Well, you got me here," she said, eyeing the tray curiously, "so this had better be worth it."

Tom bowed low and pulled out a chair for her with a flourish. "Your dinner is served, m'lady," he said, sliding her in and whisking the lid from the tray. "Due to the lateness of the hour, we have scaled back our usual fare. The Rokeg Blood Pie--"

"Tom--" she interrupted in a voice laden with warning. "Now is not the time to remind me about the Day of Honor."

"So instead," he said quickly, "we have a light Quiche Lorraine, and for dessert--well, dessert is a surprise."

Despite her earlier intentions, B'Elanna realized she was famished--more hungry for food than anything else at the moment. And considering that Tom had gone to such trouble...she smiled at him in gratitude and started eating. He just sat back and watched her, smiling in satisfaction as she devoured every morsel of the quiche.

"Oh, that was so good," she sighed as she finished the last bite.

"Ahh, but now for something even better," Tom said, his hand hovering over another covered dish on the tray. "I had Neelix make this especially for you."

"Really? What have you got?" she asked, reaching for him. "But I should warn you, it's not food I'm hungry for now."

Tom grinned in response, stood, and moved the tray to an adjoining table.

"Close your eyes..."

She did so, wondering what he was up to, hearing the clink of a fork or spoon against the dessert bowl.

"Open those lovely lips..."

Intrigued, she complied, and was rewarded by a spoonful of something cold, rich, and very chocolatey. B'Elanna tilted her head back, savoring the deep chocolate flavor. It came as a shock, albeit a pleasant one, when she felt something warm dripping down onto her lips.

Darting her tongue out she tasted an even richer chocolate. She licked her lips, opening her mouth to catch the thin trickle of hot fudge. A tiny bit escaped her, and she felt it run down from the corner of her mouth. Then she felt something else--Tom's lips on her skin, and his tongue gently licking away the remnant of fudge. She moaned softly in pleasure, then in complaint as his lips left her skin.

Her eyes opened, and she saw his face, flushed with desire, inches from hers, as he knelt beside her. She pulled back slightly, and her glance fell on the table. An incredibly luscious-looking chocolate concoction almost overflowed from a bowl, which in turn rested in a special chilling dish from Neelix's kitchen. Next to it was a small dish on a warming tray, brimming with hot fudge.

B'Elanna smiled, giving Tom a sidelong glance. Slowly, she dipped her finger into the whipped cream that topped the tower of ice cream. She reached out, and smeared the sweetness over Tom's lips. Then she carefully tested the fudge--which wasn't too hot--scooped some up with her fingers and applied a generous portion to her lover's mouth.

Tom's breath quickened in anticipation as she moved closer to him. He groaned as her tongue began to lick the cream and sauce from his mouth and chin. His lips parted, and his tongue slid out to savor the combined taste of the chocolate and the sweetness of her mouth. He melded his lips to hers and sucked gently.

She ardently returned the kiss, her fingers beginning to explore his chest, slipping through the open collar of his shirt.

His hands went to the front of her nightshirt, and slowly undid the buttons there.

So that's why he chose this style, she thought dizzily, as his fingers stole inside to caress her breasts. She pulled him close, wanting to feel his body against hers, but her sitting position prevented it. Growling softly, she stood and kicked the chair away. That dealt with, she pulled him to his feet, stripped his shirt over his head, and molded her body to his.

Tom's response was to undo a few more buttons, then slip the nightshirt off her shoulders, letting it fall silently to the floor.

B'Elanna arched her head back and closed her eyes as she felt him nip at her shoulder. A moment later, she jumped as something very cold was gently applied to her breasts.

"Tom!" she exclaimed, then felt his mouth on her as he began to lick the dessert from her skin. "That's cold!"

"Cold?" he asked innocently.

"Yes!" She glared at him. "Now do something about it!"

"Aye-aye, ma'am!" he answered, lifting her and laying her on the table. Smiling wickedly, he continued licking away the ice cream.

"Ohhh...Tom, it's still cold!" she moaned, her eyes closing again as she savored the feeling of his lips on her. She felt him straighten, and was about to sit up, when something began to drizzle onto her nipples, replacing the cold with a delightful warmth.

She opened her eyes to see her mischievous lover finish emptying the ladle of hot fudge sauce onto her. Grinning in surprised delight, she pulled him down, guiding his mouth to her chocolate covered breasts, and gave herself over to the sensations as he licked and nibbled them clean.

But as he licked the last bit from her, she suddenly remembered where they were. No matter how late it was, she knew they shouldn't be doing this in the mess hall.

"Tom, we've got to stop..."

"What? This...now?!"

"Yes, I mean, no! I mean...first the turbolift, and now, here...."

"Mmm, here..." Tom echoed softly, flicking her nipple with his tongue.

"Mmmm, yes. I mean NO!" B'Elanna moaned.

In answer, Tom pulled back, and with slow, deliberate movements, took a mouthful of ice cream.

B'Elanna shivered in reaction to the lust blazing in his eyes. "Tom...no. Come on, we can take this back to my...OHHH!" Her words ended in a strangled cry as he swiftly knelt between her thighs and put his mouth to her warm, moist flesh. The conflicting sensations of the cold dessert and his hot tongue drove any thoughts of where they were from her mind. She reached down, gripping his hair and holding him in place, encouraging him to continue what he was doing.

Tom needed no encouragement. B'Elanna had had her dessert, now it was his turn. And it wasn't the sugary sweetness of ice cream he craved--he wanted the intoxicating taste only B'Elanna Torres could give him. Her moans of pleasure were music to his ears as he continued his ministrations, alternately slipping his tongue deep inside her and licking languorously along the outside of her sex. He could feel the tension building in her as she tried to guide him to her most sensitive area, but he wanted to prolong this as much as possible.

B'Elanna moaned in frustrated ecstasy as Tom continued to avoid moving as she wanted. The pleasure he was giving her was undeniable, but it was also torture as he brought her to the brink of orgasm over and over, only to back away and begin again. After the fourth time, B'Elanna gave in to her frustration and tightened her grip on his hair. "Damn you, Tom Paris, stop teasing me!" she growled at him through gritted teeth.

Looking up, Tom noted with satisfaction the faint sheen of perspiration that made B'Elanna's skin glow in the starlight filtering through the viewport. Watching the rippling tension in her muscles for just a moment longer, he relented, and moved his head as she wanted. Giving one last, slow lick up the length of her sex, he placed his lips at the top of her cleft. Sucking gently, he swirled his tongue rapidly over and around her. As her moans became growls, he reached up and slid first one, then two fingers into her moist channel.

That did it. B'Elanna had been losing touch with any reality outside the sensations Tom was creating with his lips and tongue. When she felt him slip his fingers inside her, she bit down on her lower lip in an effort to mute the ecstatic scream that he tore from her throat. Her orgasm washed over her in waves, going on and on until she felt it would never end. Finally, unable to stand any more, she sat up on the table, and pulled him up to stand in front of her. Her hands released his hair, and she slid off the table and gathered him into a tight embrace as the last shudders washed through her.

Tom held her closely as she slowly relaxed. "I take it you liked that?" he whispered in her ear.

"Oh, yes," she murmured softly, regaining her equilibrium. "But I'm going to like this--" Her voice rose, and she yanked sharply at his pants, grateful he wasn't wearing the really tight jeans she liked seeing him in--"even--" she pulled again, sending his briefs down to join the jeans--"more!" On that last word, she grabbed his waist and threw him to the floor, diving after him.

As she straddled him just above the hips, she felt him kick off his pants. "That's better," she said, leaning over him. "You were very, very bad, Tom, and now I'm going to have to punish you." She reached up to the table and scooped up a huge spoonful of still-cold ice cream. "This may take a while," she warned him.

Tom grinned at her. "Is that right?" he drawled. "A few minutes ago, you were worried about us--doing this in here."

"And you're not?" she countered, holding the spoon over his chest.

"Not really."

"And why is that?" she prompted, tilting the spoon ever-so-slightly to one side.

He tried to give a nonchalant shrug, which was ruined when a few drips of ice cream hit his skin, causing him to twitch in reaction. "Well, while I was waiting up for you, I checked the activity logs for the past few weeks. Seems on this particular night of the week, no one ever comes to the mess hall this late. And Neelix won't even think about starting breakfast for a couple of hours yet," he explained.

B'Elanna gave him a slit-eyed glare. "You planned all this, then?"

"Oh, not all of it," he admitted. "But I like to think ahead--plot out my course," he said smugly.

"Well, think about this, flyboy," B'Elanna said, and she flipped the spoon over, flinging the ice cream to his chest, splattering it over his neck and face. Then she threw the spoon aside and dove down. Tom let out a moan as she attacked him, licking frenziedly at his skin, nibbling her way up his throat to his jaw. He reached up to stroke her bare back, but she swiftly deflected him, locking her hand around his wrists and pinning his arms to the floor behind his head.

"Don't move, Tom," she hissed, "or you'll regret it."

"Yes, ma'am," he acknowledged huskily, trying to remain still and control the tremors that were racing through him at her touch.

She continued her assault, licking and kissing his face, his neck, nibbling at one ear lobe, then the other, as Tom tried desperately not to squirm. At the same time, she was sliding her hips up and down, letting the warmth between her legs rub against his skin, tantalizing him even more.

Tom was on the edge of sensory overload. His scalp was still tingling from where she had held on to him so tightly. His face was burning from the combination of cold ice cream and B'Elanna's hot mouth. Her scent was still on him, mingling now with the sweet aroma of chocolate. He could hear her short, growling breaths underscored by his own ragged gasps. An incredible heat was building deep inside him, but he was shaking as if overcome by a sudden chill. The pleasure she was creating for him was being threatened by the ache in his arms as she continued to hold them down, and the overwhelming need he felt to touch her.

"B'Elanna..." he groaned, "please..." He didn't know what sort of release he was begging for--he only knew she was driving him mad.

She lifted her head and gazed at him, her eyes on fire with passion. " 'Please' what, Tom?" she asked teasingly. "Please stop?"

"No!" he gasped.

"Please let go?" she went on, releasing his wrists, and letting her hand slide caressingly down his arm to his shoulder.

"Th--that's better," he said haltingly. He gingerly moved one arm, and when she didn't try to stop him, placed his hand on her hip. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," she told him, bending down and nuzzling his lips one last time. "I'm not through with you, Paris."

Slowly, B'Elanna slid her body down his, easing over his groin, settling back on his thighs with his erection in front of her. Then she reached up for the bowl of hot fudge. Tom's eyes went wide and she laughed softly. "I hope it's not too hot," she said, delicately dipping one fingertip into the sauce. "Mmm, no..." She slid her finger in her mouth and sucked appreciatively. "It's just right."

She eased backwards till she was sitting on his knees. With slow, careful movements she swirled the ladle through the fudge, lifted it out, and held it over Tom's shaft. He watched her, his breath coming in hard gasps. B'Elanna carefully put the bowl back on the table, still holding the ladle above him. She tilted her hand, and Tom jerked, choking back a cry. But B'Elanna tipped her head back, and took the hot fudge into her mouth. The ladle was tossed to the table, and she swooped down, taking Tom into her mouth.

Tom thought he was going to die. His back arched and he bucked uncontrollably. B'Elanna swirled her tongue around him, letting the sauce drip down for just a second, before she began to suck and lick it up. The fudge was hot--her mouth was hotter, moving up and down his length as if she would never stop. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before, not even in their wildest, most passionate lovemaking. This night was like nothing they'd ever experienced before. Whether it was the incredible risk they were taking, despite his "research," or the extra tactile delights provided by dessert--he didn't know. He didn't care. The blood was pounding in his head, his heart felt ready to burst from his chest, pressure was building deep inside and he wanted--needed--only one thing.

B'Elanna could sense the tension building in her lover as she continued to lick at him sensuously. Determined to give as good as she had gotten from him a few minutes earlier, she stopped her movements, and simply held him in her mouth. Tom groaned, raising his hips, trying to let her know that a little more action would be appreciated. B'Elanna was having none of it. Every move he made, she mirrored, and when he tried to reach down and take hold of her hair, she swatted his hands away.

"I warned you, Tom," she said, raising up and glaring at him. "I told you not to move."

She rocked back on to her heels, as if in preparation to stand. It was at that moment Tom chose to show that his quickness wasn't just in his wit. He shot upright, grabbed her, and rolled them over, pinning B'Elanna firmly between himself and the base of the table. "And just where did you think you were going, Torres?" he whispered.

B'Elanna arched a brow, and teasingly pushed at his shoulders in an attempt to free herself. "Back to bed. That's your punishment for moving," she chuckled.

"I don't think so," he replied, before catching her wrists in his hand and pinning her as she had done to him. This was what he wanted, himself and B'Elanna, and just a touch of her Klingon nature shining through. To him, there was no more exciting combination in the galaxy.

"You don't?" she whispered, giving up her struggles once she had succeeded in moving until she could wrap her legs about his waist.

"No, I don't." He reached down with his free hand and positioned himself at the gates to Paradise, then in one fierce thrust joined himself to her. This was what he needed--completeness. To be one with her, to have all of her, was his salvation.

B'Elanna gasped, her eyes closing as she felt him deep inside her. Everything they'd done to each other already had only been a prelude to this perfect moment of completion. Her legs tightened around his waist as he began to move, and she tried to match his rhythm. Her eyes flew open when she felt him bend his head down and bite, gently at first then harder, at her nipple.

She tried to reach down and stroke his back, only to realize that he still had her wrists pinned above her head. Much to her surprise, and delight, she found she couldn't free them. As his mouth moved to tease her other nipple, she tried again to move her hands. Tom's response was to tighten his hold on them, and slowly nibble his way up her neck.

"Oh, no you don't," he growled softly into her ear. "If I let your hands go you might get away. And we can't have that, can we?" he asked, his other hand snaking down between their bodies to lightly stroke her.

B'Elanna sighed and smiled with delight, reveling in his caresses. Then he began to kiss along her jaw, nipping sharply at her skin as he increased the pace of his thrusts within her. B'Elanna's smile changed to a snarling grin in response. He wanted to play a little rough, did he? She was all for it. Turning her head, she nibbled on his ear, then gently raked her teeth along his jaw.

Should she bite him? She hesitated, barely restraining herself as he brought her to the edge, and held her there. Then with one final thrust he took them both over that edge, and in the middle of their ecstasy, Tom answered her question. His hand released her wrists, and she felt his teeth sink into her jaw. The added bit of pain only served to increase her pleasure, and crying out his name, she marked him as hers once again.

***

Cargo Bay 2 was dark and still, the dim greenish glow of the few remaining active alcoves casting strange shadows all around. For a moment, the sole occupant of the room was disoriented. Her hand moved to her hip, then trailed upward. The warm feel of velour material, not cold hard armor, reassured her that she was still on board Voyager, still Seven.

That only left one question remaining, why had she woken to darkness? "Computer, time."

"The time is zero three twenty eight hours"

Zero three--? Her regeneration cycle wasn't due to end until 06:30. Why was she awake?

A soft rumble came from the region of her stomach, accompanied by a curious feeling of emptiness. From her studies, she knew that this signified hunger amongst her crewmates, but that was not possible. She was Borg, and not scheduled for a nutritional supplement until fifteen hundred hours that aftern--The sound came again, and the feeling intensified.

An unaccustomed feeling of trepidation passed through her. The Doctor had warned her that her body would be reasserting its human needs, and she had acknowledged his warning. But now that it was happening, she had no idea what to do.

She did the first thing that came to mind. "Seven of Nine to Ensign Kim." She waited a moment, then tried again. "Seven of Nine to Ensign--"

Roused from a deep slumber, Harry Kim wondered if he'd only been dreaming about Seven. But that was definitely her unmistakable voice hailing him. "Kim here," he responded in a sleep-slurred voice.

"Ensign, I require your assistance. Could you come to the Cargo Bay?"

"The cargo--Seven, have you any idea what time it is?" he asked, the muzziness of sleep quickly changing to annoyance.

"It is now zero three--"

"Precisely my point!" he cut her off. "What is so desperately important that you had to wake me at this hour?"

"I--I do not know," she answered, her voice uncharacteristically low and tremulous.

"You don't know?" Harry started to snap a sarcastic reply, then the odd tone in her voice broke through to him. "Seven, what's wrong?" he asked, his annoyance vanished.

"I do not know. I awoke before I was scheduled to--" she broke off, her trepidation rapidly changing to nervousness, and a touch of fear. "Please, Harry. I require your assistance."

The "please" did it. Seven never, ever used that phrase. Harry threw the covers off and rolled out of bed. "I'm on my way, Seven. Just calm down. I'll be there as soon as I get dressed."

"I will be waiting for your arrival."

An odd sound accompanied her words, something Harry knew he recognized, but never expected to hear from her. He threw a pair of pants on over his briefs, and headed out his door. "Seven, what was that?"

"It was me. My stomach--"

A grin broke out on his face as he stood waiting for the turbolift. "I see. Tell me, do you feel slightly empty inside?"

"Yes. How did you--"

"Change in plans, Seven. Meet me in the mess hall. I know just what your problem is, and how to fix it," he said, stepping into the lift and calling for deck two.

"I am on my way," she replied. "And Harry? Thank you for your assistance."

***

The mess hall was still dark. Only an occasional whispered endearment broke the silence as the two lovers gently caressed each other. They lay spooned together, quiet and content in the dim starlight, reveling in their love for one another.

"You know," Tom murmured, gently nuzzling the back of her neck, "if we keep this sort of thing up, we're going to forget how to do it in bed."

B'Elanna reached behind her and smacked her hand down on his thigh. "You better not be complaining, Paris," she chided him.

"No, ma'am," he replied, not sounding the least bit chastised.

She pulled his arms tighter around her, wriggling her hips as she settled back into his embrace. "Remind me again why I love you so much."

Tom groaned slightly, her actions causing a faint stir where her hips met his body. "Well, for one thing, I know how much you like...chocolate."

She brought his hand to her lips and gently kissed his fingers. Her lips curved up as she heard him try to hide another moan. She loved to hear him when he tried to suppress his reaction to her little caresses. "And for another?" she asked.

"And for another, my sweet love, I'm not so completely overcome by your charms not to realize we really need to get moving."

"Why?" she asked, enjoying this moment too much to want to move at all.

"I think we've taken enough risks for one night--someone just might come strolling in here at any time," he said. "And, as much as I enjoyed dessert--"

"Yes?" She knew what was coming. In truth, she wanted to wash the stickiness the sauce had left on her off, too. Or better still, have Tom do it.

"I'd really like to take a shower. That ice cream and hot fudge has got me sticking to your skin." He demonstrated by arching backward, a small sound arising as he separated from her back.

"I see what you mean." B'Elanna released his arm and began to stand, only to be pulled back down to the floor, this time with Tom's hand over her mouth. She started to struggle until he shushed her.

"Quiet!" he hissed into her ear. As he felt her relax, he pointed toward a patch of light by the far door. "We must have missed the door opening!" From where they lay, they could just see a silhouette entering the mess hall. Then they heard a familiar voice. "Seven? Are you here?"

B'Elanna twisted around to stare at Tom. "Seven?" she silently mouthed.

"Harry," Tom replied in the same way. He tossed his head, indicating the door closest to them. B'Elanna nodded, and gathering their clothes as quietly as possible, they began to crawl towards it. Luck seemed to be with them, as they could hear Harry making his way into the kitchen. Thankfully, the only light he switched on was the night-light.

They had just begun to feel confident that they would escape undetected, and were a mere three meters from the door, when it opened, revealing the tall form of the ex-Borg. They froze again.

B'Elanna fervently cursed the way their luck appeared to have deserted them. If Seven turned on the lights, there was no way that she'd miss them. For that matter, if she used that damned Borg eye of hers to see in the dark, they were just as caught.

"Harry?" Seven asked, stepping into the darkened mess hall.

"Over here, Seven. I'm in the kitchen," came the response.

Seven turned and walked toward the sound of Harry's voice. Tom and B'Elanna held their breath as she passed within a meter of them; how she could have missed them, they didn't know, and weren't about to ask.

Once they heard her start talking with Harry in the kitchen, they began breathing again, and resumed their crawl to the door. Tom was nearly there when he felt B'Elanna's hand clamp down on his upper arm. Glancing over, he saw her shaking her head.

He moved closer, placing his lips right next to her ear, and whispered, "What's wrong?"

B'Elanna did the same. "If we open the door, they'll notice. If no one comes in, they're bound to check the corridor, or worse yet, turn on the lights and find the mess we made."

"Damn!" Tom cursed. "You're right. What now?"

"Well, first, we need to get dressed, quietly!" she responded, rolling away and wriggling into her nightshirt.

Tom took the hint, and followed suit, though B'Elanna had to help him with the jeans. As it was they had to stop twice, as Seven kept turning her head in their direction as though she had heard something.

Once they were as presentable as possible, they moved back next to each other. "So, Helmboy," B'Elanna whispered, "what sort of a course have you plotted to get us out of this?"

"Me? I thought a Chief Engineer like you would have come up with something by now!" Tom replied. He couldn't resist just a bit of a tease, and tickled her ear with the tip of his tongue.

B'Elanna's eyes widened in shock. How could he even think of doing that when they were in this predicament? In retaliation she caught his earlobe between her teeth and bit down. "Now is not the time for that, Tom!" she hissed through her teeth.

"But don't you think it adds just a bit of excite--owww!" he groaned, as she bit down harder. "Okay, okay!" He sighed in relief as she released his ear.

"There's only one thing we can do," he said, hauling her upright and leading her to the door. As their presence triggered it open, he added: "Improvise!"

"Impro--" she cut herself off as she saw Seven and Harry peer out over the counter to investigate the noise. "Tom," she said quickly, in as close to a normal tone of voice as she could get, "we need to clean up the dishes before Neelix gets here to make--Oh, hi Harry. Seven. What are you two doing here at this hour?

Tom looked down at B'Elanna, then catching on to how she wanted to play things, turned to face the kitchen. "Yeah, Harry. You're not having another midnight meeting to discuss modifications to Astrometrics, are you?"

Harry threw a furious glare at Tom. "No, we were just, umm--"

"We were not," Seven interrupted. "Har--Ensign Kim was assisting me--"

"With what?" B'Elanna asked breezily as she walked by Seven to get a cleaning cloth.

"He--I--"

B'Elanna turned back to face Seven, not believing she was hearing properly. Was that embarrassment in her voice? From Seven "I am BORG!" of Nine? "Computer, lights, half illumination," B'Elanna ordered. And then she couldn't believe her eyes--was Seven actually blushing?

Harry tried to step in and save Seven. "She asked me to help her. It seems her human physiology is reasserting itself. She woke up with her first case of the munchies."

A sound suspiciously like a snicker came from Tom's direction, earning him another glare from Harry.

"I don't have to ask what you two are doing up so late," the ensign said pointedly, eyeing the fresh bite-marks on the two lieutenants.

Seven followed Harry's lead, and looked closely at the two. "What is that substance in your hair, Lieutenant Torres?" she asked, pointing to a spot just above B'Elanna's right ear.

"What?" B'Elanna's hand flew up to her hair, and her fingers came away smeared with chocolate. She glared at Tom, who had assumed a studied expression of innocence. "It's--it's--"

"Chocolate ice cream," Tom quickly supplied. "Great cure for the munchies, Seven," he added with a smile.

Seven regarded him curiously. "Are you saying that you and Lieutenant Torres also had...the munchies?" she asked, her mouth pursing over the strange word.

"Not exactly," Tom said, noticing the look Harry was giving him. "B'Elanna was stuck in Engineering all night, so I waited up for her, to be sure she got something to eat--"

"That's right," B'Elanna jumped in, not sure how this diversion was going to work. "And it was so late, and so quiet, and well, one thing led to another and..." She trailed off, realizing she had already said too much.

Tom tried to cover. "So we decided the best thing was to go back to B'Elanna's quarters, for a while--"

She made the next save. "But then we realized we had to come back here, to clean up the mess we left behind..."

Harry's gaze went back and forth between his two friends as they spoke in turn. Their story had holes in it big enough to fly Voyager through, but he willed himself to believe it. Most of it...parts of it. And then there was Seven, taking it all in, and about ready to make the kind of comment they all would regret later...

But Harry couldn't help himself, and he just had to ask. "So how did the ice cream get in B'Elanna's hair?"

Tom tried to think quickly of an out, then noticed a fresh bowl of ice cream on the counter next to Harry. "Well," he drawled, casually making his way to the counter, "like this." He reached out, snatching the spoon and filling it. He raised it threateningly and pointed it in Harry's direction. "Food fight."

"Whoa, Tom," Harry said, raising his hands defensively. "I get the idea. No need to demonstrate."

Seven looked on in mystified fascination. "Lieutenant Paris, are you saying you deliberately threw food at Lieutenant Torres?"

Tom turned, now aiming the spoon at Seven. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because--" Tom faltered, saw B'Elanna watching him with a barely-hidden smirk, then said, "--it was fun." He turned to his lover and quickly flicked the ice cream, splattering it across the front of her nightshirt.

"Tom!" B'Elanna growled as she advanced on him.

Harry stepped in between his friends. "You two are impossible," he said.

"I do not understand--" Seven started to say.

"Here, Seven," Harry said, snatching the spoon from Tom. "Take this and have some of what's in the bowl. It should help with your problem."

"But, I--" Seven stopped as Harry gave her another pointed look. She took the spoon and proceeded to slowly eat her ice cream, all the while observing the irrational actions of the other three.

"Now listen, you two," Harry admonished. "Both of you have to be on duty in a few hours, so go clean up and get some sleep."

"Harry, that's a great idea, but we still have to clean up the mess we made over in the corner," Tom said, tossing his head in that direction.

"Seven and I will take care of it. We're not due on shift until the afternoon."

They smiled at him in gratitude, and barely-disguised relief. "Thanks, Har," Tom said, taking B'Elanna by the elbow and steering her to the door. "You're a pal."

"And I mean--sleep!" Harry called after them, unable to resist. That got him a double look that said it was good thing he was their friend.

Harry shook his head, chuckling softly as he watched the door close behind the pair. How two otherwise responsible officers could get themselves into such predicaments-- The clinking of a spoon in a bowl turned his thoughts back to his own late-night companion, and the original reason for his even being awake at this ridiculously early hour.

Turning to see how Seven was doing with her ice cream, Harry was shocked to find that she had finished it, and was in the process of placing the bowl back on the counter. "Well, Seven, how do you feel now?"

"I feel much better. You were correct, this was a suitable cure for the...munchies," she still seemed to be having some difficulty saying that with a straight face. "Shall we survey the damage done by the lieutenants?" she asked, picking up the cleaning rag B'Elanna had abandoned and walking towards the far corner.

Harry grabbed a second cloth, and hurried after her, morbidly curious as to just what sort of "damage" they would find. He had his suspicions that Tom and B'Elanna had, contrary to their claims, not gone back to her quarters when "one thing led to another," and it wouldn't do for Seven to be drawing the wrong, or for that matter, right conclusions.

As he approached the corner table and noted the chair which had been flung away from it, he grew more convinced of his suspicions. He watched with interest as Seven knelt down to begin wiping up what appeared to be a smear of hot fudge from the floor. When she leaned further over to get another smudge, he felt his temperature, amongst other things, begin to rise.

In order to distract himself from the vision of Seven on her hands and knees, and her tight derriere waving in his direction, Harry turned and began to consolidate the bowls of ice cream and hot fudge onto one tray.

He had just finished wiping off the table, when Seven called to him. "Harry, there is a spoon on the floor, and this portion of the floor appears rather...sticky."

He turned to find her sitting back on her heels, pointing at a spot near the base of the table. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, for her new position put certain other of her more prominent attributes at the center of his attention. "Well, Seven, Tom did say they got into a food fight, and ice cream and hot fudge are pretty sticky."

"This does not appear to be either of those substances," Seven replied, picking up the spoon and holding it close to the floor. "The residue on the floor is definitely different from that on the spoon."

Harry's eyes widened as he realized just what she may have come across. "Seven, I wouldn't worry about what it is," he said, quickly kneeling next to her and wiping furiously where she had indicated.

Seven arched a pale brow as she watched him. "In that case," she stated, bending down next to him and scrubbing one final spot. "I have only one other question for you."

Harry closed his eyes in dread. "What?"

"Obviously Lieutenants Paris and Torres were less than completely honest with us. Their clothes were clean, until he threw the ice cream on her in our presence. Therefore they could not have been wearing them. So I must ask, what sort of pleasure would one derive from having one's skin covered in ice cream and hot fudge, and having it removed by a companion?" she asked, turning her head to stare at him. "Presumably the companion would use their mouth to do so in order to not waste the food?"

Harry looked up, nearly bumping noses with her, and noticed a tiny bit of hot fudge at the corner of her mouth. What the hell, he thought. She asked. He leaned in and with the tip of his tongue, licked her mouth clean, then pressed his lips to hers in a tentative kiss.

Seven neither stiffened nor relaxed, she just stared into his eyes as he pulled back. Were her pupils a bit dilated? "Why did you do that, Harry?"

"Well, you asked the question, Seven. So I decided to conduct a bit of an experiment," he said, standing with a sigh. "What were the results?"

She continued to sit back on her heels, staring thoughtfully up at him before she took his offered hand and stood. Picking up the tray, she walked into the kitchen and placed it in the recycler. Harry followed close behind her, waiting for her reply. At last she turned to face him. "I have insufficient data to give a full evaluation, though initial results are...satisfactory." She stepped in close to him, her breasts pressing against his chest. "Further experimentation is indicated."

***

Out in the corridor, the lieutenants were taking a few moments to sigh in relief and gather their wits. "We owe Harry big-time for this," Tom said. "We better be sure we check out his new program tomorrow night--uh, tonight--I mean, after we get off-duty today," he finally clarified.

B'Elanna nodded, then frowned slightly. "I still don't want to go on a double-date with them." Then her frown deepened as she looked at Tom. "What was the idea of flinging ice cream all over me?" she demanded angrily.

"It was fun!" Tom replied with a laugh. "You should have seen the look on your face."

"Look on my face--" she sputtered. "I'll show you a look, Paris," she snarled, advancing on him like a tiger stalking its prey. "I'll show you fun!"

Tom gestured broadly at the dark, deserted corridor. "What--right here and now?" he asked, backing away from her. "Haven't you had enough excitement for one night, Torres?"

She chased him all the way to the turbolift.

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