Thirty Seconds
by Birca

Title:            Thirty Seconds
Author:         Birca
Rating:         [NC-17] 
Summary:    Can there ever be too many codas to Thirty Days?  No, I don't think so either.

Date: September  2002


:Dinner, my quarters, oh seven hundred.  Don't be late, Ensign.:

Tom smiled and closed the link, then stood in the middle of his bedroom and breathed.  He closed his eyes, dropped his head back and let his mind process the space around him.  

He was in his quarters.

He was home.

He stood still for a moment and willed his body to relax.  He'd survived the thirty days, and he wanted to do nothing more than move.  Run.  Be able to take more than four and a half steps before hitting a wall or a forcefield.

He drew in a slow breath and opened his eyes.  No, there was one thing he wanted more, he thought.  He wanted to see B'Elanna.  Missing her had been the hardest part of his month-long exile, and he realized if he didn't get it in gear he'd be late for his 'dinner date'.


B'Elanna stared at her reflection and puffed out a quick breath of air.  It was ridiculous, she knew, but she was nervous.  The month had dragged by, and she thought it was petty of the captain to make Tom stay in the brig until oh six hundred.  She should have allowed him to leave at midnight.  In fact, B'Elanna had assumed he'd be released then.  She'd planned on it.

She glanced at the cream coloured silk negligee, newly replicated twelve hours ago, and sighed.  Maybe she'd get the chance to show it to him tonight.  There wouldn't be time this morning.  Just a quick breakfast and they were both due on duty.  She was grateful to Chakotay for assigning them the same shift this week.  Of course, he'd had to bear the brunt of her foul mood for the last month--her own self-imposed thirty day exile--and she was gladly trading her month of overtime for a week of evenings with Tom.

She ran a brush through her hair and straightened the rank bar on her collar.  She was fiercely glad that Chakotay had insisted his Maquis crew be allowed to keep that distinction.  She wasn't sure she could have worn Starfleet pips now.  And she was wondering if perhaps Tom felt the same way.

In a few minutes she could ask him.

She pursed her lips at her reflection, and smoothed a hand along her hair one more time.  She clamped down on a wave of doubt before it could overwhelm her.  She knew how Tom felt about her.  She didn't need reassurances.  Still…it had been a long thirty days and Tom had had time to think.  Time to realize that he didn't--

No!  She had promised herself almost daily that she wouldn't think about it.  She didn't want to talk herself into believing that Tom was happier without her.  Which was ridiculous, really.  How happy could he have been in the brig?

The door chime sounded, startling her, and B'Elanna jumped guiltily.  Couldn't he have arrived when she was thinking about how glad she was that she would finally see him?

She dropped the hairbrush onto her dressing table and practically ran to the door.  "Come!" she called.  Any hesitation she felt vanished as Tom stepped into her quarters. She'd intended to be restrained.  Polite.  To tell him that she'd missed him, and invite him to dinner after shift.  To make a joke that his cold breakfast would have to sustain him until she could replace their main course.

She didn't do any of that, of course.  The door opened and she launched herself at him.  He met her halfway and swept her up into a fierce hug, lifting her off the floor and practically crushing her to his chest.  She hugged him back, burying her nose in his collar, and started to laugh happily.  To think she'd been worried he'd tired of her!  

He kissed her wildly, his aim way off the mark.  He rained kisses on her hair, her ear, her uniform collar, before finally setting her on her feet and capturing her face between his hands.  His mouth crushed hers, and she melted against him.  

"My god, I've missed you!" Tom said huskily.  

"I missed you too," B'Elanna started to say before he lowered his mouth again and took hers in another kiss.  Her words were lost against his lips.  She broke away for a moment and ran her hands up his arms to his shoulders.  "I asked the captain if I could see you, but she refused."

"I didn't want you to see me.  Not like that.  Harry--"  Tom bit off what he was going to say, and looked away from her.

"Harry begged her every day for a week.  There was no way I was going to beg."  B'Elanna pressed a kiss to his cheek in apology.

Tom laughed lightly and hugged her hard.  "If you're going to beg, Lieutenant, I want to be the one to make you do it."

B'Elanna felt a zing of arousal course through her body.  Her nipples tightened to hard points, and she was sure he could feel them right through their uniforms.  "I wish we had time.  I thought you'd be out last night; I replicated your favorite."  

She pointed to the table, and Tom loosened his grip on her waist enough to turn and look at the breakfast she'd spread for them.  Taper candles burned softly, wine glasses filled with what looked like orange juice, and an obviously cold and congealed pepperoni and olive pizza on a raised platter.  He grinned and released her to walk closer to the table.

B'Elanna followed, explaining.  "I thought we would have a late dinner, but…"  She waved a hand toward the pizza, and Tom caught it and held it to his chest.  "I ended up comming Tuvok to ask him when you'd be released, and when he said oh six hundred I thought I'd just let it sit out all night.  I actually think you like it better that way anyway," she finished.  B'Elanna bit her lip and stared at him, willing him to say something.

"It looks delicious," he said sincerely, "but you look better."  His eyes flashed blue fire at her, and B'Elanna caught her breath as he pulled her closer.  

"We don't have time.  Tom, we have to be at station in less than an hour."  Her mouth curved into a grin at the wickedness of the idea: a morning quickie--they hadn't done that in ages.  

"Sounds like enough time to me," Tom murmured, closing the distance between them.  His mouth skimmed over her cheek and under her ear to nibble her neck.  

B'Elanna felt her legs grow weak and she felt a rush of moisture between her thighs.  Kahless, what that man could do to her with a simple kiss!  "We can't," she breathed.

Tom unfastened her uniform jacket and slid his hands along her waist.  He kissed a wet trail down her throat to the point where clothing met skin.  "We can," he insisted.  

"We don't have enough time," she repeated.  "We'll be late for duty."  Her hands found their way to Tom's waistband and she pulled his shirt from his slacks.  His skin was warm under her questing fingers, and she ran her palms up his belly to his chest.  "You've been working out," she said.

"And you've lost weight," he accused.  He pushed her jacket down her shoulders and wiggled it down her arms.  "I suppose you've been working all the time, skipping meals, pining for me."  His grin was saucy, but she saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes before he turned to place her jacket on a chair.

"I've been horrible.  Just ask Chakotay.  And my staff.  I think half of them will be just as happy as I am that you're out of the brig."  She kissed him soundly on the mouth.

"Only half?"  Tom raised an eyebrow as he drew her back into his arms.  

"You're not that popular, you know.  Some of them were glad to have you out of their hair for the last month, especially after it took two teams three days to fix the 'Flyer."  She kissed him again to soften her words, then lifted a hand to his hair and ran her fingers through the crisp curls at his neck.  "You need a trim."

"I thought you liked me shaggy."  

"I like you any way."  Her voice was husky, and she watched as his eyes darkened with desire.  They had time, she decided.  Cold pizza could wait.  

She unzipped his jacket while he did the same with her slacks.  She dropped her hands to his waistband and tugged on the fastener, then quickly removed her own turtleneck.  "Be careful not to crease anything," she cautioned.  "You don't want to piss off the captain by showing up rumpled."  

Her grin was infectious, and Tom laughed out loud.  "Lady, I want to do more than rumple you!  You have no idea how much I've missed you."  He hopped on one foot as he tugged on a pant leg.  

B'Elanna felt deliciously naughty.  It had really been far too long.  Their relationship, the lovemaking especially, had become comfortable, almost routine, then a series of events had thrown them into life or death situations and things had changed between them.  She'd begun to wonder if Tom's renewed passion was just an effect of the danger they'd been in--a programmed response to the threat of a violent death.  

She kicked off her boots and shimmied out of her slacks taking her panties with them.  The look in Tom's eyes certainly didn't look programmed.  Hungry, almost predatory…  she felt her pulse pound in anticipation.  

Tom slid a hand around her waist and pulled her toward him.  His erection was hot and hard against her belly, and she arched into him, winding her arms around his neck.  It felt so good just to feel him again, every blessed centimeter of his long, warm body.  He pulled her undershirt up to her chin, then bent his head to take a nipple into his mouth.  He sucked the sensitive nub over his teeth and B'Elanna gasped as the mixture of pain and pleasure rocked her.

"Now!  I need you now, Tom." She rasped.  He kissed her hard again and practically carried her to her couch.  It was hard to carry someone for only three steps.  A tiny rational corner of Tom's mind registered the fact that he'd come up against a road block, but this time he didn't mind.  Running, or walking great distances, was overrated, really.

He set her down, and B'Elanna promptly spun him around and pushed him to the sofa.  He sat and reached for her, and she settled across his lap and took him inside her in one smooth motion.  She paused and stared at him, panting.  It felt so good to have him filling her again.  She wanted to cry out.  She wanted to weep.  

She moaned low in her throat and started to move on him, sliding along his length in slow measured strokes.  Tom's hands gripped her waist and he thrust into her.  Her head fell forward onto his shoulder, and her nipples scraped against the curly hair on his chest.  His breath rasped in her ear and he trailed kisses along her throat and shoulder.  

She bucked against him, then changed her angle slightly until she could feel him deep inside her.  Tom stiffened and he pushed against her.  "W--wait!" he gasped.  

"What's wrong?" she mumbled.  She raised her head and caught the pinched look of concentration on Tom's face.  She squeezed his penis with her internal muscles, hoping to jumpstart him.  What in the world was wrong with him?

Tom gasped, then gripped her hips with bruising force as his eyes rolled in his head.  "D--damn," he stuttered.  

She felt him shudder and buck into her as the air exploded from his lungs.  Damn!  Damn it!  B'Elanna closed her eyes and released a breath.  They might have half an hour left, and it wasn't enough time for him to, well, recover and get on with it.  She felt like screaming.  Or crying.  Damn it!  She was almost quivering with arousal, and there was nothing she could do about it now.  It was worse than when he was in the brig--at least then she could amuse herself.  But with Tom right here, looking like he was slipping into a coma…

She bucked against him, rocking her hips and squeezing him, hoping for a sign of life.  "Sorry," Tom mumbled.  Not quite what she was after, truthfully.  "It's just been a while," he slurred by way of explanation.  

"Well, I guess we have time for breakfast after all," B'Elanna said brightly, trying to beat down the urge to smack him with a boot.  

Tom drew in a deep sustaining breath and opened his eyes.  B'Elanna had stared to rise from his lap, and he held her steady as she eased off of him and stood.  Suddenly he reached for her and grabbed her around the waist, then pushed her into the sofa.  He dropped to his knees on the floor in front of her, and hooked her legs over his shoulders, pulling her forward on the couch cushions.  "I'm not in the mood for pizza," he growled, sliding his hands under her ass and lifting her toward him.

B'Elanna gasped his name and hung on.  Tom nipped his way along her inner thigh, his teeth leaving tiny red marks on her smooth flesh.  He leaned up and dropped warm, moist kisses on her belly and the point of her hip, then poked his tongue into her navel.  B'Elanna squirmed in his hands and growled a warning at him.  

The touch of Tom's tongue was like liquid velvet: cool and warm all at once.  B'Elanna bucked against him and moaned low in her throat.  Oh my, she had missed this!  

Tom traced the folds of sensitive flesh, nibbling and kissing all her hot spots.  Normally he would tease her until she threatened him with physical injury, but this morning he seemed to have a goal in mind.  And Tom Paris could be remarkably goal oriented if he chose.  

B'Elanna's whole body was singing.  Her breasts were full and firm with arousal, and her nipples were so hard they ached.  Her legs were trembling, and she couldn't help rocking her hips toward him as he brought her close to release.  She threaded her fingers through Tom's hair and held him right there.  If he stopped now, she'd have to kill him.  Have to.  

Tom closed his lips around her and sucked, and B'Elanna felt her body come apart.  She bucked hard against him and cried out, a sharp high bark that couldn't have come from her.  Pleasure spiraled through her and she shuddered, arching into him, thrusting against his mouth as her orgasm went on and on.  

She slowly came back to reality and drew in a ragged breath.  Wow.  Not bad.  Not bad at all.

Tom was chuckling into her belly.  His arms had slid around her waist, and he held her loosely as he rested his cheek against her sweat slicked skin.  He kissed her hip, then stretched to kiss her firmly on the mouth.  He stood slowly, easing out the kinks in his back and legs, then bent to pull her to standing.  

She watched him with slit eyes, admiring the beauty in his long, hardened body.  He had been working out, she decided.  

Tom pulled her close and kissed her again, before whispering in her ear, "I guess we have time for breakfast after all."  

She swatted his shoulder.  "Hey, it's been a long thirty days for me too, you know, Ensign."

"Um hum.  And it's going to be an even longer thirty-first night, Lieutenant.  I suggest you nap in your office if you get the chance."  He waggled his eyebrows at her then reached for their underwear, conveniently placed on the table beside the stone cold pizza.  "God, I love breakfast with you."

"More than dinner?" she asked.

"Oh yeah.  With dinner you have to wait for dessert."



So, did you like Birca's latest story? If so, write her!
All stories by Birca - Last Updated October 12, 2002
All characters, concepts, photos, images, & terminology belong to Paramount Pictures.