O PERFECT LOVE

SEQUEL TO RANDOM HARVEST

vanhunks

Dear Reader

I am gratified that there were so many of you who enjoyed reading Random Harvest. As I said in the introduction to that story, the Alternate Universe I created, was based on the film "Random Harvest". I changed so many rules for that story, so I guess I don't have to tell you that once again, take a leap of faith and go along for the ride!

This story which I think I had to name "O Perfect Love", is the sequel which so many of you enquired about. At the time of writing Random Harvest I hadn't given it any thought of writing any follow-up story. But many readers were curious to know: Okay, so what happened to them afterwards? Was Tom going to call her Lainey from now on, and B'Elanna call him Adam? Were they going to stay in the Gamma Quadrant? There were many questions which I hope, in this story, will be answered.

I hope you enjoy the reading of this story as well.

DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns Voyager, Tom, B'Elanna; the story is my own. The planet Melvech, the Dekra Star System, Palings, Cowan and Yelena Lutz, her brother Sergei, are entirely my own creation, and they too, belong to me. I wish I could say the same of Harrison, but MGM created him.

Rating: NC-17

SUMMARY

Tom and B'Elanna have reunited (as Adam and Lainey) after almost fourteen years when he suffered amnesia and couldn't remember the three happy years he spent with her. Yet there are still some things Tom has to come to terms with.

O PERFECT LOVE

CHAPTER ONE

It was early morning on Danae. If one looked up at the sky in the still dusky hours of the new day, one could see how the three moons have now moved out of their alignment which had been almost perfect the previous night, when, like Orion's belt, they lay in an almost straight line. One sun cycle later, they would again grace the sky, and the people of Melvech would again take to the streets to rejoice and bring thanks.

It was quiet, the only sounds came from the occasional call of the deekop, a small horn billed bird endemic to the region of which Danae formed a part of. In the quiet air, the sound, through its very musicality became an early morning song, to wake those who were about to face another day.

In a little house at the end of the first street, Admiral Tom Paris lay in the bed he and B'Elanna shared so many years ago. B'Elanna lay in his arms and she was still fast asleep. With their legs entwined, his arms protectively around her, one hand on hers where it was resting, palm down, over his heart. Her hair, grown longer in the almost five months since he had last seen her, fanned out over them, and from time to time he pressed his lips against the silky strands. Her face was settled snugly in his neck, and even in her sleep, it felt to him as if she pressed it closer. He could almost hear a faint purring sound from her throat, and felt the vibration against his skin. He thought when she did that, that she did not want him to be gone. His eyes closed every time he pressed his lips to her hair, the ridged brow, and sometimes he could still feel them stinging with tears.

His heart was filled with a peace he had never known before. It seemed from the moment he knocked into a Melvechian yesterday, that the memories which for fourteen years were embedded deep into his brain, rolled out wave upon wave, to fill him finally and completely that deep and aching void that had been such a part of him for so long. Each little memory surfacing, bringing him closer and closer...to her. Even as the last of the memories came crashing into his mind, he knew that he had regained his random years, harvested three lost years that he had with such desperation for so long tried to recapture.

Even as he said: "There was a girl..." he knew intuitively that B'Elanna and Lainey were one. How he rejoiced upon that realisation. B'Elanna was Lainey; Lainey was B'Elanna.

Tom looked at his sleeping wife. He was humbled by her extra-ordinary courage. What sacrifice hadn't she made to search for him! Now, in blinding flash, all those wisps of memories he ever had over the last eleven years came together. The final pieces of the puzzle fitted. He had wondered so often why he got those memory flashes whenever he was looking at B'Elanna, sometimes intently, and at others with a sudden movement of her head. Especially when he met her that first time in his ready room on the Excelsior, he sensed that he could have known her. And that play! She had been so completely unsettled when he spoke of the dead baby... 

B'Elanna had never given up on him, tracing him finally back to the Alpha Quadrant which had been his real home. That he married her was another completely miraculous event, moreover, when she began filling that void that had turned him into such an overbearing and unsmiling, cheerless being. With hindsight he knew now that Kitty would never have made him happy, and God help him, being married to B'Elanna in the last three years had made him the happiest man. It saddened him suddenly that he regretted not remembering her, that he never sought to consummate their marriage, something he knew now, in retrospect, B'Elanna would have welcomed.

I was a great, lumbering unfeeling fool...

His fingers traced the ridges on her forehead, and she stirred slightly, a smile hovering on her lips before she settled against him again, giving a sigh of contentment. He had his lost years back, and with it, his lost love whom he never really lost. She was always there. He felt the sudden urge to kiss her again. He acted on this impulse to kiss her, feeling her warm, her lips moving under his. She stirred sleepily and murmured softly:

"Don't leave me...Tom."

"Shhh...sleep, my love. I'm here. I'll never leave you, B'Elanna."

"I love you, Tom..." she murmured again.

He felt his eyes misting over. He had considered marriage with Kitty because he was lonely, but when he married B'Elanna, in spite of the conditions of their marriage, he had known that she would fill the awful gap there had been in his heart for so long - an emptiness that had intensified with each passing year.

*

"I am Adam," he said quietly to himself, feeling the taste of it on his tongue, relishing the sound of it in his ears. He thought in wonderment how he had been jealous of this Adam, especially that terrible night when he... He tried to shut those dreadful memories out. Still, as much as he had been driven over the years by the hopeless longing for a lost love, to have his heart filled, the shadows driven away, he saw B'Elanna's love for this "dead" husband as almost unnatural. How could she still love Adam after he died eleven years ago? That's what he thought, and he was jealous as hell, of himself, he realised. He thought how B'Elanna's feelings for him never changed. He gave a sob, then he bent his head, kissed her again, and whispered:

"I love you, B'Elanna."

"Let me sleep..." she whispered, but he felt her hand traveling over his chest, her fingers twirling the hair, and her thumb circling erotically over one nipple. He groaned, caught her hand and held it prisoner against his chest. He felt her relax as her sleep deepened again.

He smiled. He thought of last night, when he stood in the doorway and saw her lying on this very bed. It took every ounce of his control not to rush in and grab his Lainey. He sensed in her very stance as she looked at him, mouthed his name - Adam - so quietly, that she knew he had regained his memory.

How he loved her. His Lainey. His B'Elanna.

An eternity they stood, in each other's arms, hands, trembling fingers moving feather light over features, touching, each touch bringing back a memory, each feature so familiar, lips trembling, of whispered endearments. His lips moved over every part of her face, his eyes were closed, then open, to look at her lovingly. Her lips moved in silent benediction, her eyes closed with tears trickling down her cheeks. They were moments sacred, as if in each touch they sought to bring back a memory, a time, a year. And they kept on touching, assuaging a thirst so long endured, drinking from each other, unable to stop. It would never stop, he thought, his hunger of her.

"You never did leave me out of your sight," he whispered, his lips close to her mouth, his eyes looking deeply into hers, and holding, holding, holding her.

"God must have kept one miracle just for me," she said, her eyes at last shining.

Then he hugged her closely to him again, how many times in those precious minutes he didn't know. All he knew, he did not want to let go of her last night.

Last night.

He sighed contentedly.

At what point after interminable minutes of exploring and rediscovering each other, of offering their touches as benediction, kissing away salty tears, the touching turned to desire, he didn't know. Perhaps it was when he pressed his lips against hers, and he felt her opening to him. Perhaps his hand trailed down her neck and his thumb rested lightly on her nipple, to rub it gently through the fabric of her dress. Or perhaps it was in that moment he gasped as he felt her melting into him, or when his teeth tugged her lower lip. He didn't know.

"I love you, B'Elanna," he whispered hoarsely as she threw her head back, offering her mouth for him to feed on. His hands were meshed in her hair, holding her head gently, then his lips touched hers again. She opened her mouth for him, and he felt her moan as his tongue darted into her mouth, tasting her, his teeth scoring her lower lip, then tugging, tugging. He felt her answering desire as she plunged her tongue into his mouth, groaning at the intense pleasurable sensation he felt. She pressed into him, feeling him hardening against her stomach. He gasped as she pushed against his hard sex, swaying provocatively into him, rubbing against the pulsing shaft.

*

"I want you, Tom Paris, she moaned into his mouth as he lifted her high in his arms and carried her to the bed.

"I want you too, my B'Elanna," he groaned as he pressed her down on the bed, his hand on her breast. Through the thin fabric he could feel the erect nipple, rubbing with his thumb till she cried out. He covered the bud with his mouth, closing his eyes as he felt a thousand little shocks go through him. Her hands were on his hair, caressing, pulling him to her to claim his mouth again.

She growled softly deep in her throat as he plunged his tongue into her mouth again. She felt the old familiar ache between her legs as he started to remove her dress, raising her to a sitting position. The feeling of warmth, erotic desire swamped her lower body.

*

"I need you," he whispered desperately as he pulled the dress over her head, then buried his face between her breasts. He felt her hands as she  removed his shirt, and he shifted slightly as she pulled it off his back.

She grabbed his head, pulling him back then sank her teeth into his neck. He groaned loudly as hot need flamed through him. He pushed her back against the bed, and settled himself between her legs, moaning again as she parted them for him. He cupped her face, then trailed his hot mouth over her, as her hands covered his waist and she pulled his trousers down over his hips, exposing his rock hard shaft. She covered it with her hand and started moving up and down, pulling the skin away from his tip, the friction as skin moved over the ridges of his swollen member. He writhed on top of her, her hands on his sex mimicking the plunging and pulling as he moved his hips against her hands. 

"God, B'Elanna," he groaned as he felt embarrassingly close to releasing himself over her. "Wait...please..." he begged.

"Then take me now..." came her muffled command as she released him and pressed his hips into her cleft. But he felt the constraint of the lacy panty she was still wearing.

"I will..." he panted raggedly, "just as soon as...I...remove...this...." as he started removing the last of their clothing. He sank his mouth over one nipple as it sprang free of the bra. "Hmmm...mine..." he mumbled, his mouth claiming one nipple, his lips over the aureole, tugging with his teeth, while his hand roamed further down, in a hot and sensual movement over her skin, down over her hip to her knee, then up again, along the inside of her thigh till it rested at her centre.

He groaned again as his hand gently covered her mount, the soft curls already damp from her wetness. He inserted two fingers and slowly entered her, feeling her sheath wet and slick, the muscles closing around them, squeezing him tight in her. He groaned.

"I'll not let you go...Tom," she mewled against his mouth as his fingers started their movement inside her. She bucked at she felt the friction of his moving fingers, his thumb exposing her clitoris, pink and pertly erect, rubbing in gentle circular motions as at the same time his fingers thrust deeply into her. Her breathing was hard and ragged, willing him to complete her. She could feel the burning sensation, electrifying as sharp stabs of desire shot through her.

He felt her nearing the edge, then holding her back a little, removed his roving fingers, then slid lower down, his mouth never leaving her fevered skin, his tongue lapping the salty sheen of sweat that formed, hearing her growl impatiently as he pressed the tip on his tongue into her navel. His fingers caressed her inner thighs, the thumbs pressing them wider.

"Ohhhh..." came her ragged growl as she felt his mouth on her vulva. Her fingers clenched the bed sheets convulsively as she lay, lifting her hips to his mouth. He nipped her soft, slick folds gently with his teeth, his tongue pushing them further open. Then he pressed his tongue at the lower edge of the long slit, and in an upward movement, started lapping at her, over and over. She felt with every touch of his tongue as he licked her, an intense wave of erotic heat suffusing her. She moved her hips up against his waiting mouth between every touch, finding a rhythm quickly as his tongue removed her clit from its sheath. She felt she could drown with the pleasure, as he took her to dizzying heights. Grunting loudly, she gave one final thrust as he took her over the edge. He held his mouth there, feeling the aftershocks of her throbbing climax against his mouth.

He raised himself, saw her face, flushed with desire, her mouth open, still panting raggedly from her release. He smiled, poised himself like hunter over her. His hands on the mattress beside her, he held himself above her, panting, watching her face, the desire playing over her features. Then he lowered himself, parting her legs wider as he did so, and using one hand to position his tip at her entrance, and slid into her at last. Her fingers dug deep into his back as she felt him fill her with his hot thickness, thrusting in so deep, her sheath expanded to accommodate his throbbing shaft, the muscles closing possessively around him, and squeezing hard onto him. He paused to feel her inner walls, so wet and slick with her juices, relaxed slightly around him.

Like that they lay, his hands on the sides of her head, elbows digging into the mattress, his hips fitting perfectly in the valley between her legs, her hands on his back. Then he started to move in her, slowly, lazily, she picked up his rhythm, arched her back and bucked into him. They panted, gasped, kissed, as his movements picked up, and he started a frenzied pounding into her. Her fingers scored his back, cleaving deep gashes from his lower back, till they reached his shoulder blades. He was unaware of the pain as he thrust into her, feeling her hips pushing into him, over and over. With each hard thrust they grunted loudly, unable to stop. Their bodies sweating, muscles tensing as she felt the first of the waves of orgasm washing over her. She arched high one last time before she screamed as she crashed over the edge. Without waiting for her to come down he plunged deeply into her, thrusting and pounding until she screamed again and again, feeling the exploding sensations of her climax overcoming her with unceasing pleasure. Then he arched, throwing himself far back and with a final thrust felt the release of his warm fluid. He screamed her name as he orgasmed painfully into her. Then he collapsed shudderingly on top of her. It was a long time before their breathing returned to normal.

"My love, my life," he whispered into her hair. He was still in her, still joined, feeling almost surprised as he felt himself becoming rock hard again.

"It seems we're not done, Admiral," she commanded as she moved provocatively against him.

"Not by a long chalk, Commander," as he started moving into her again.

Throughout the night they made love, played, laughed, dozed for a few minutes. Then they would start again, and again.

*

"Mine," she said one time, deep into the still night, as her fingers curled round his hard throbbing rod, and she straddled him, lowering herself into him. She kept his body still, enjoying his complete abandon as she sank herself onto his sex, slid out almost to his glans, then fell onto him again. He held her hips, lifting her, and grunted as he pounded her into him. He was completely at her mercy as he brought her down on his shaft time after time, until his body stiffened, and he lifted his hips, screaming her name over and over as the waves of his orgasm crashed over him. He throbbed all over his entire body; there was a faint buzz in his head as he floated down.

They were hungry, and fed upon each other, tasting and marking each other's bodies. It couldn't stop as they continued, biting, loving, whispering, crying, playing, laughing.

Tom's arms closed around his wife convulsively again, as the thought that he almost lost her, came to him. He kissed her tenderly as she slept, and only then sagged back and fell into a welcome slumber. 

*

B'Elanna had raised herself on her elbow, her chin on her hand as she looked down at her husband's sleeping form. He looked so relaxed, so peaceful as she listened to his deep, even breathing.

When she left home, home? five months ago, it was with the thought that she'd never see him again. Last night she knew, just by looking at him, as he called her name, that he remembered. She would treasure the memories of yesterday, when they pledged their love over and over; that she would hold those moments to her heart, when she stood in her husband's arms and cried. Her long and desperate search for Adam was over. Adam returned to her last night, exactly as Cowan predicted he would, with all his love and true affections for her as intact as the day he left.

*

She bent down and planted a kiss tenderly on his temple. He had thrown the covers off him, and lying on his side, facing her. Her hand caressed his form, from his shoulder, over the plains of his stomach, resting briefly at his inner thigh, then moved over his legs.

She sighed. Their lovemaking last night all but obliterated the pain of their last union in her bedroom. She did not want to think about it, Tom's whispered remorse and plea for forgiveness enough for her to put the terror of that night away forever. She knew now that although he hurt her immeasurably that night, he acted out of character. He, she knew, would never knowingly hurt her. And it was with that knowledge of him, that she kissed away his concern. She smiled tenderly. Where was Scheherazade when she needed her? Perhaps the Persian Mistress thought it was time she and Tom made out. Scheherazade was usually so protective, and always snarled whenever Tom came near B'Elanna.

It was almost midday on Danae, and they were still in bed. She kissed Tom on his lips. He was rather slow to waking as he had always been. She smiled when she thought that. How strange it was that already, as Tom and B'Elanna, she thought of him in these moments as Adam, his habits remaining the same as Tom Paris. She had to get used to that side of her husband. After all, when she met him, he was Adam to her. She felt him stirring, enjoying the last few precious moments of watching him sleep.

He had yet to ask her...

Last night they were too wrapped in their passion to have thought of other things, other important things.

"B'Elanna."

"Hmmm...?"

"For a moment you were far away."

She pulled herself back to the present, and looked at him.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she said as she kissed him. "It's midday, Tom. You feel like getting up?"

He pulled her down into his embrace, and kissed her fiercely on the mouth, feeling her mouth opening under his instantly. He rolled over on to her, careful not to put his full weight on her, and held her.

"I love you, B'Elanna."

Blue eyes peered into dark brown eyes. Only now she could see the question in his eyes. It flitted in his  eyes, momentarily clouding them. The smile that had been there, suddenly gone and in its place, a sombre expectancy. She cupped his cheeks with her palms, her fingers trembling as she met his gaze.

"He was four months old when he died, Tom," she said softly.

His eyes became cloudy, then he buried his face in her neck. For the long minutes Tom's body shook as he sobbed his heart out; she held him, soothing, soothing, but not stopping him. It was what he needed to do. She had done all her grieving then, in the first months after Johnny's death. He was only now starting his grieving, and she let him be. They were painful sobs that racked his body. She knew he was not only crying for his dead son, but that his loss of memory kept him from being with her to share her grief. B'Elanna shifted away from him, bent over to look on the floor where the blue soft toy had fallen when she ran into his arms the previous night. She picked it up and pressed it gently into his hands. Amazingly, it still carried some of the baby smell, even after so many years. He pressed the toy to his face, was unable to prevent himself from crying again.

When he spent himself, he became quiet, pensive. She left him to his thoughts, knew that even her presence now was intrusive. She touched him one last time before getting out of bed, and padded to the bathroom.

An hour later she walked into the bedroom again, but he had been up already, and was rummaging through the wardrobe. He looked surprised as he saw his clothing he wore as Adam still there. He looked at her, a query in his eyes. He had suddenly became a little quiet.

"I - I had hope, Tom. Sergei, you know Sergei, Yelena's brother? He - he maintained the house for me, if ever...if ever..."

He walked quickly to her, caught her in his arms.

"Shhh... no more tears, my love." Then he proceeded to kiss the tears from her face. He knew there was still a lot to talk about, that she wanted to share with him. But they had time now. He did not want to push her, and evoke sad memories. He felt himself bitterly sad at the last images he had of B'Elanna and Johnny before he had left this house, this very room. "They're my world," he had said to Yelena then. B'Elanna had smiled up at him as she held baby Johnny who was suckling at his mother's breast. Tom closed his eyes at that memory, held B'Elanna closer to him. She too, need his comfort, his solace. He pressed his lips into her hair. "I am here now, to wear my own clothes, right?" She nodded, because it sounded so silly to her. Then she giggled.

"Now that's more like my Lainey," he said. "My B'Elanna."

"Tom, I've prepared us something to eat. Come," she said, before she felt like bursting into tears again.

CHAPTER TWO

They were standing under the tree on the hill just a little away from the house. The same tree under which he proposed to her years ago as Adam. Now their son was buried there. Against the trunk, with a piece of the bark removed, carved into the wood, "John Adam, Jr."

Tom stood with his arm lightly around B'Elanna's shoulder. He felt a thickening in his throat again as he thought of the last time he saw his son, then only about three weeks old. He remembered remarking on Johnny's eyes, and wondered acutely then about his own past which he couldn't remember. B'Elanna words "don't beat yourself so", he could hear as clearly as when she said it to him years later when they were in the concert hall watching Harry Kim and she had noticed how he rubbed his ring. Tom fingered the ring again. "O perfect Love", had kept him wondering about this woman in his arms for so many years. B'Elanna looked at him, saw his throat muscles working as he tried not to break down again. But he was overcome. She held him close to her as he sobbed. When he stopped eventually, he looked at B'Elanna, saw the deep sadness there.

"He died of the same virus you had when I found you the first time, Tom. It reached  epidemic proportions here in Danae."

She paused. "He - he was one of the first to - to die..." she said softly, then added, "and not the only child. Yelena and I both succumbed to the virus." She smiled as she looked at him. "I took months to recover - " She stopped, and her eyes went sudddenly wide.

"Tom - !" She gasped audibly.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

"I just remembered. Oh, I was careless!"

"What, sweetheart?"

"I - I'm supposed to get my vaccine about now..." and she looked suddenly and understandably scared.

Tom took her into his arms, kissed her hair that had grown so long, past her shoulder blades. Really Klingon long, he decided.

"Don't worry so, sweetheart. I've brought it with me. Even if you didn't want to see me again," he added softly.

"Oh Tom, I would have taken you back. I love you to too much..."

She looked down at the carving on the trunk. Then she hugged him fiercely. "I have cried all I could for him, my love. Now, there are the tender memories I have of him."

"B'Elanna, I - "

"Shhh... it's okay Tom. We are together now, with fond memories of our son. In the period you were gone and - and when - when we still hoped you would return, Yelena and Cowan prepared some holovids of him, up to a few days before his death. Apart from the photographs I have of him here."

He looked at her then. Loving her more and more with each passing minute. He bent down to kiss her, then straightened, leaned forward to touch the bark where Johnny's name was carved. He closed his eyes, willing himself to feel his son's presence.

"Only when you are ready, Tom. Only when you are ready," she whispered.

He nodded.

"We'll come here again one day, Lainey. Somehow, when I think of Danae you are Lainey."

"And sometimes, in my mind, you are Adam..." she said pensively. "But mostly, you are Tom. I love you, Tom."

He hugged her convulsively. "I love you, B'Elanna."

They stood there a few more minutes before they prepared to leave for Cowan's house.

"There's a little girl there I'd like you to meet, Tom. You'll love her immediately. Yelena and Cowan decided to name her Lainey after I dropped the name to attend the Academy again."

"I guess they wanted the connection to remain, B'Elanna. They loved you deeply, to have stood by you all these years..." His voice trailed off, then he spoke again. "We have a lot to catch up, Admiral Mrs Paris. Ready?"

She nodded, then they took  what mementoes they wanted to take with them, with some other luggage, and boarded the hovercar. 

***********

Commander Enver Harrison couldn't have been more perplexed when he saw Admiral Paris with his wife entering the home of the Lutz family, where he had been staying. Cowan and Yelena seemed to consort to keep him in the dark as the Admiral greeted him. B'Elanna gave him a quick hug before she left to find Yelena and little Lainey, who was not so little anymore.

"Aunt B'Elanna!"

"Goodness, my godchild has grown," B'Elanna said as Lainey ran forward to hug her. At six years old she was quite tall. "Come, there's someone I'd like you to meet."

** 

"But Sir," Enver Harrison said, "I thought you found the girl you were looking for. You said there was a girl."

"Of course there was a girl, Harrison. There is still a girl," the Admiral said tersely, which had the poor man frowning furiously.

"If you will excuse me, Sir," Harrison persisted. "You say you have regained your memory, and that part of the lost years, there was a girl who meant much to you. Oh, I mean no disrespect to Mrs Paris, Sir."

"It's okay, Harrison. You don't have to apologise," the Admiral said, looking at Cowan who tried hard not to laugh out loud, and not averse to smiling himself at his aide's discomfiture. "You will meet the girl very soon."

"But, Sir - "

"Here she is, Harrison. The girl of my lost years," and the Admiral looked towards the door to see B'Elanna enter.

"Mrs Paris? I - I'm afraid I don't understand, Sir."

This he said as Mrs Paris, who had only ever, and in his presence, kissed her husband fleetingly on his cheek, walked to her husband and kissed him soundly on the lips. Mr Paris held her in his embrace as if he could never let her go. They always, in his presence at Starfleet Headquarters, acted as very good friends, nothing more. Although he had not been surprised at the time when the Admiral finally admitted to loving his wife very deeply, it shocked him a little now to see how effusive the Admiral was in showing his affection for his wife. Enver looked at them and could have sworn that had they been alone, the Admiral would have made love to his wife, so thick the air of passion was between them. He was even more confused. What about the girl, then? What happened? Didn't the Admiral find the girl after all? Had the Admiral then, because he couldn't find the girl, now pretended that his wife, dear Mrs Paris, was the girl? Surely, looking at the two of them now, it was certainly not necessary anymore that he find any elusive girl. The man was making love to his wife right in front of them! Mrs Paris was just as passionate as she kissed her husband back. Oh, the perplexities of life. Enver was, he admitted ruefully, completely confused.

That was when Cowan took the poor man's arm and steered him gently towards the front door.

"Enver," Cowan said to him, "have I ever told you about how the Admiral and his wife met?"

*** 

Tom looked at the little girl he thought to be about six years old, and felt his heart contract with pain. He pictured B'Elanna, oddly enough, not with their deceased son, but with a little girl who would look like her Mommy, just like little Lainey so clearly resembled Yelena.

Lainey stood in the doorway of the lounge, a little shy of this gentleman whom she had seen only in pictures her Aunt B'Elanna showed her.

"Come here, sweetheart," Tom said. She stepped closer, one slow step after the other.

"You must forgive her, Tom. She's not usually so shy. I think it's the grey hair I see showing at your temples," Yelena said.

"What grey hair?" Tom asked, giving Yelena an aggrieved look.

Yelena just ignored Tom, who seemed to get used quickly again to Yelena's directness.

"Lainey, this is Uncle Tom. You've seen him in pictures, right?"

Lainey nodded. She reached Tom, whose hand almost reverently touched Lainey's cheek. For a very brief second he closed his eyes as he felt her soft skin under his fingers. Then he looked at her, her light brown eyes never leaving his gaze.

"You're very pretty, Lainey," he said. The little girl warmed a bit to Tom. She smiled, and bowled her Uncle Tom completely over. He drew her closer and hugged her small body, wondering whether he and B'Elanna would ever have another child. The two women watched Tom interact with Lainey, and smiled tenderly.

"She's going to love him like mad, B'Elanna. I think it's his gorgeous eyes doing the trick every time, isn't it?... Hey," Yelena whispered as they looked at Tom, "wasn't that what you told us made you fall in love with Adam? When he opened his eyes and looked at you?"

B'Elanna gave Yelena a playful rib in the side. Then she said close to Yelena's ear. "I'd go to hell and back again for him if I have to."

"Then you are a glutton for punishment, not to mention pain, my friend," Yelena said softly.

Yelena looked at her friend of the past fourteen years, and her eyes became a little sombre.

"Everything okay, B'Elanna?" she asked.

"Everything," B'Elanna said, her eyes smiling like Yelena had never seen, not even when she knew her as Lainey.

"Thank God," she said softly.

They were interrupted by Lainey who jumped excitedly up and down. She was obviously very happy about something.

"Mom, Mom! Uncle Tom said I can visit them when we go back to Earth!"

"Sure, pumpkin," her mother said indulgently, wondering how Lainey would take to the news of a baby brother for her soon. She hadn't wanted to say anything yet, because she didn't want to see B'Elanna go into one of her melancholy turns whenever she saw someone carrying a baby.

Perhaps now...she thought. Her dear friend was not wearing a mask in front of her husband anymore. What she saw there was undisguised love for Tom Paris. She was glad for B'Elanna. All their prayers, their sometimes hopeless supplication that a miracle might happen for their B'Elanna, were answered.

"I know you're pregnant, Yelena," B'Elanna broke in her thoughts, saying it softly, her eyes becoming misty. "Believe me, I'm happy for you..."

Yelena was non-plussed for a few seconds before she hugged B'Elanna fiercely.

"And what are you two so happy about?" Tom asked, already sensing what they were going to say. When he looked at Yelena, he got up and hugged her.

"Congratulations."

"What's going on, Mommy?" Lainey asked. Mommy took her by her hand and left the room with her, to tell her about her new baby brother, and also to leave Tom and B'Elanna alone. She was not fooled. She could see B'Elanna was distressed.

B'Elanna turned into Tom's arms and buried her face in his neck. He enfolded her in his arms, his lips on her hair.

"There will be children for us, beloved," he whispered into her hair. "There will." She raised her face to his, he could see the beginnings of tears forming in her eyes. With his thumb he wiped the tears gently away. She smiled sadly, then nodded.

"Come," he said. "Time for your vaccine. Harrison brought it here, along with the rest of my luggage."

"Tom," she asked, looking a little curious, "how long did you get off?"

"Only about six months, sweetheart. A working holiday. The working part of the holiday is over."

She looked at him, her eyes going wide.

"Tom! I'm ashamed of you. You used your Paris influence!"

"And you, my sweet, are reaping the benefits. You're a Paris too, and don't you forget it," he said lightly.

"Then you must know I don't condone your actions, Admiral. They'd be thinking I could also use it, you know."

"Why, Commander, I thought you didn't take notice of the gossipmongers."

"I don't. I was just curious, about taking such long leave."

"I had hope, B'Elanna. A lot of hope," he said as he filled the hypospray with vaccine and pressed it into her neck. "There, that should do it. Next one in six months time, sweetheart." He became suddenly very serious. "When - when you were so ill, B'Elanna, I - I think that's when I finally admitted to myself I could never exist without you. You - you were dying, B'Elanna, and I despaired of losing you. In those moments my lost years didn't matter anymore."

"Tom, I - I...needed you even then, as Tom, not Adam, you know. I - I kept hoping...hoping for you to - to..." She thought how hopeless her yearning was then. He held her close to him.

"It's over, sweetheart. We have each other. Now, we think about the rest of our vacation. Anywhere you'd like to go or to spend it, B'Elanna."

"I...want to go home, Tom," she said with a little longing in her voice. He hugged her so fiercely, she could hardly breathe.

"There's someone at home  who pined for you as much as I did. She refused to leave your room, or get off your bed. If we don't get home soon, she'll get quite sick. She misses you."

"Tom! You don't mean Scheherazade!"

"Oh yes, I mean Scheherazade. She even allowed me to pick her up you know. I - I kept everything as you left it, our home. The home you made for us. There was not a place I could walk, and not see you, beloved."

Tom sighed, and pressed her close to him again. He did not want to tell her how, when he missed her so desperately, he started sleeping in her bed, his face deep in the pillows, so he could smell how close she was to him. Or how he put several photos of her on his desk in his office, so he could stare hours at her face. He'd tell her sometime, he promised himself. He almost lost her, almost. He held her to him, closed his eyes as he pressed his lips on her ridged brow.

He could never become complaisant about B'Elanna, about his wife, his marriage.

"Oh Tom, I missed home!" she whispered against his chest. "I missed Scheherazade. And I do so want to see Mama."

"Oh yeah. Mama, who knew all the time where you were." Then he looked sharply at her. "Who knew all the time who you were, B'Elanna."

"She - she knew from the start, Tom. I didn't have to tell her anything. She just sensed it. You know how she is. You can't escape her."

"Don't I know that!" he said fervently. "Even poor Harrison suffered."

"She asked me straight off that first night, at Palings, soon after we were married. Just said: "You are the reason he keeps twisting that ring round his finger. How could I deny it?"

"I love you so much, B'Elanna. So much. And you know what? It wasn't the feeling of love I had for you as Adam. I could not remember that part of my life. It's - it's that I fell in love with you all over  again, more deeply it seemed." Her arms were around his waist, and he cupped her face with his hands. He brought his own close to hers, then drawn like a magnet to her lips, he pressed his against hers. It felt warm and soft; he felt the tingling sensation through his body as she opened her mouth to him and he flicked his tongue inside. She melted into him, and he moaned as wave after wave of intense pleasure coursed through his body. She growled as he plunged his tongue deeper inside, his teeth grazing her lips, filled suddenly with great hunger again as she gave him pleasure for pleasure. He could go on kissing her, on and on...

"Are you two done with your kissing? The other two are coming back. You've got some answering to do to poor Harrison," Yelena said as she appeared in the door again.

Tom groaned.

"As always, Yelena," he said, reluctantly letting go of his wife, "your timing is impeccable."

Tom and B'Elanna prepared to say their goodbyes to Cowan and Yelena who would be returning home too, but later. It seemed little Lainey wanted to attend Starfleet Academy one day, like her Aunt B'Elanna.

"Admiral!" Harrison exclaimed as he entered the lounge with Cowan. "Isn't it wonderful? The girl of your lost years was your own dear wife, whom you married so long ago! Remarkable, I say. Remarkable!" And he stepped forward and shook the Admiral's hand, before he graciously bowed to B'Elanna, who just smiled at him.

CHAPTER THREE

They boarded the USS Challenger under Captain Watlington as soon as they reached Dekra Four, two weeks after they left Melvech. As an Admiral, he was an honoured guest on board, often seen in the company of the Captain or first officer.

Commander Enver Harrison was sitting in the mess hall, enjoying a meal with one of the senior officers he had befriended en route to this star system. It wasn't long before the officer excused himself to go on duty, which left the commander pondering on the relationship between the Admiral and his wife. The subjects of his musings had a few minutes earlier, accompanied by the Captain, entered the captain's private dining room.

He was still slightly astonished at the incredible turn of events when they set foot on Melvech Alpha just over a month ago. The Admiral had gone to fetch his wife. How remarkable, he thought, that his boss regained his memory, almost from the moment he set foot in Melvech city. That the secret of his past which had, so everybody speculated, to include a girl, did include one: his own wife!

Well, it was very obvious to him, even when the Admiral didn't know his wife was that elusive girl of his lost years, that the Admiral was already, very deeply in love with his wife. Mrs Paris was equally in love with her husband. He knew she must have suffered a great deal to have traced her husband after he regained his memory, and lost the years he lived with her. That they had a son, who died! What a tragedy for the Parises. A son who would have been almost eleven years old now.

He understood that Mrs Paris returned to the Academy to complete her training, and then her difficult task was to work herself up through the ranks. He wondered how she introduced herself to him when she had to face him on board the Excelsior. He sighed. He thought it must be one of Starfleet's most heartbreakingly romantic tales. He did so want to tell everyone of the Admiral's dash to follow the woman he loved. To shout it from the roof tops. To tell everyone how the Admiral married his wife - twice! He didn't even know it! Harrison surmised Mrs Paris had her reasons for not telling her husband who she really was. He wondered whether the admiral would have believed her. Perhaps there really had been merit in her motivation to wait for her husband to regain his memory of his random years. In which case she would have been certain without a doubt that he wanted her because she was Lainey, and not because she said she was Lainey. There was a big difference in the way one could argue those two points.

He felt Mrs Paris, by going the way she sought to go, chose the more difficult of the two paths. He could only imagine how it must have been to that lady, knowing that the man she married, was her husband already. He, Enver Harrison, by his close working relationship with the Admiral, soon surmised, by the way they behaved, when away from the public eyes, that their marriage - the second one - was one of convenience. He gave the Admiral his credit for sensing that Mrs Paris to be the one who would make his lonely days less lonely. Mrs Paris succeeded admirably, though he could sometimes see the sadness in that lady's eyes when she thought no one noticed. He did and he felt a great sadness for her during that time.

Now, when he looked at the two of them, it filled him such envy. He could really see how much they loved each other. Just as he could see how Admiral Janeway and her husband, now Admiral Chakotay, showed their love for one another through their eye contact and the way they often touched when no one looked, so he could see it in the Admiral and his wife. Their eyes were shining and he, Enver, knew in his heart of hearts that even if the Admiral never met that elusive girl of his past, that that gentleman, the day his mother climbed into him, made a commitment to his present wife. To love her, be in love with her, to tell her he loved her unconditionally. Yes, Admiral Paris was in love with his wife. It was always there, Enver thought. Only, Tom Paris realised it late, but not too late, he reflected gladly.

They touched. He often dropped a kiss on her hair, or kissed her lips. They held hands. Enver thought if that love could have endured as it did for almost fourteen years, why, then it would endure for the rest of their lives! He hoped that the Parises would be blessed with an addition to their family. It was sad that their son died. He understood that the Admiral was still hesitant to watch the holovids Cowan and Yelena, now his friends too, made of the little one. Yelena told him that his son resembled his mother, but had his father's eyes. She told him that the Admiral, when he was Adam, loved his little boy to distraction. It was understandable that he would still grieve, even years later.

Although he quite literally burned to tell all his own friends, including his fiancée of the fantastic turn of events for Mr and Mrs Paris, he made a commitment not to speak to anyone. Let them speculate, he thought. He loved this couple too much to lay bare their private lives for all and sundry to see. He loved that he was privy to their lives. He thought how, after Mrs Paris senior lambasted her son so in front of him, he felt like he was a member of the family. He loved that he knew certain state of affairs that the rest of Starfleet was dying to get to know.

He sighed again. That was what it meant to be an Admiral's aide. Entrusted with personal things. Just that thought made him feel excessively important, basking unashamedly in the Admiral's glory. During the rest of their journey home, his only task  was to update the Admiral on secretarial issues, arranging his boss' diary. So he would for one hour only during one entire day be in consultation with the Admiral in the executive quarters that were assigned to them. After that, he was free. Some evenings he would dine with them in their quarters. Enver felt decidedly de trop in their company, seeing as how they had eyes only for each other now. But he didn't mind. His Admiral was a happy man now. Happier than what he had been for years.

Enver Harrison, seeing how blissfully happy his favourite couple were, was filled with a new resolution: the moment he returned home and into the arms of Cerise, his fiancée, he was going to tell her to set the date for their wedding, and not longer than one week after his return. It was time he made his full commitment to the love of his life and a lifetime with her, which should, of course, include a number of babies. She would have no option but to say yes, and that was that!

He continued with his meal still pondering on the lives of the Parises.

**************

"Ready?" Tom asked his wife as the prepared to leave for the holodecks some evenings later. Tom had programmed some pretty nifty adventures, and Klingon martial arts holographic foes the two of them were going to tackle.

"Sure," B'Elanna said. She was standing in front of a long mirror in the beautifully appointed bedroom of the executive suite on board the Challenger. It certainly wasn't necessary she dress up for the occasion, after all, they were going to sweat it out on the holodeck.

Tom came to stand behind her, his hands cupping her breasts, while he pushed her hair aside to nuzzle her neck. He looked at her in the mirror.

"Or we could stay in..."

"Shame on you, Tom Paris. I thought you couldn't resist a challenge," she said slyly. That got to him. Never one to resist a challenge.

"Fine, then tonight we see who brings the first warrior down."

"Are you making a bet, Admiral?"

"Huh-uh...er...on the other- " he tried to stall.

"You're on! Winner gets to be on top!"

*******

That night she straddled him and tortured him sweetly for hours, and enjoying every minute of it. He pleaded, he begged, but to no avail. She was every inch the huntress, making him squirm, biting and marking till she drew blood, and then she dealt him the little death blow.

"My beautiful vixen," he whispered into her hair afterwards. "I could lose this bet every time."

*******

Tom sat in front of the vidcom in their quarters. B'Elanna had gone on her own to the holodecks, to "get up to some real fitness training" after complaining about being out of condition, and that after beating Tom twice so far in combat.

He was glad she wasn't there. He wanted to watch it alone: images of their son of the very short life he had. Tom had a lump in his throat, and felt his heart racing. Why was he feeling so nervous? he thought. How difficult could it be to look at videos of your wife and son?

Shouldn't it be something to be happy about? Rejoice?

He sighed. If he don't do it now, he never would, he decided. He didn't relish seeing the disappointment in B'Elanna's face, even though she appeared blasé about it. Oh well...

He switch on the computer.

"Computer, display program "John Adam, Jr." he said softly.

The first image was of a smiling B'Elanna breastfeeding their baby, with Yelena looking on. He felt his heart thudding. Tom closed his eyes. Dear God, it hurts, he thought with complete surprise. It hurts. Why was he doing this? he asked himself as he saw image upon image of John Jr., at various stages of his development. How fast he was growing! Tom saw B'Elanna, her shoulders bare, holding a naked Johnny up, the baby looking down at her; Johnny's pudgy little hands against his mother's cheeks. Johnny leaned forward, his dribbling mouth against B'Elanna's lips. He saw Johnny trying to hold on to the blue fluffy toy he bought just before Tom left on that fateful mission... B'Elanna holding Johnny against her so he could face the camera, her finger pointing somewhere in front of her. The baby's eyes were wide and very blue, his mouth open and dribbling...

At last, there was a sequence of the baby on the bed, lying on his stomach, bracing himself on his arms, and raising his head, looking straight at Tom it seemed, with a shine in his incredibly blue eyes and smiling, smiling, smiling...

He's smiling at me... He is smiling at me...

Tom felt his throat muscles constrict, it felt like a hand was squeezing his heart, and a painful rasping sound - was it a sound? - escaping from him. It came out as a wheeze, his chest rising and falling alarmingly as he stared at the screen. Frozen into immobility, he felt hot scalding tears course down his cheeks. His mouth tried to form what his mind was whimpering over and over: my son, my son, my son.... Then the picture vanished and everything became black.

He felt a dizziness overpower him. From a long way off it seemed, he heard a voice:

"Tom...sweetheart, it's alright. Shhh....it's okay."

"B-B'Elanna?" came the croaking sound at last from his lips as turned dazed eyes at her.

"Yeah, it's me, Tom," she soothed.

"I - I'm s-sorry B'Elanna. He - he's... I - I t-thought I c-could do it," he whispered incoherently as he pressed his face against her stomach, his arms clutching her convulsively. She stroked his hair and tried to console him..

"Shhh...my love. Don't fret so."

She pulled him up from his seat and led him to their bedroom. She noticed absently that he had gone back to that old stammer when he was Adam. He must have distressed himself very deeply. She pushed him gently back against the pillows and lay next to him, caressing his face, planting soothing kisses on his cheeks, his hair. Then she cupped his face in her hands.

"I have the fondest memories of him, Tom. I had the most precious friends in the world help me realise that. I know it will take time, sweetheart. But take it slowly, will you?"

"I - I don't d-deserve you, L-Lainey," he whispered hoarsely.

"Nonsense. Tom, when you asked me to marry you I could have said no. But I love you, sweetheart. Too much to have given up on you. I'm not giving up now," she growled, as she brought his face closer, and kissed him fiercely on his mouth.

"Sweetheart, don't - don't g-give up on me."

"Sure I won't. But Tom, one day at a time, hmm? You need time. Perhaps today was a start. It will get better, I promise you, my love. It will get better. Just don't bottle it inside, you hear? You want to talk, I'm listening."

"You knew, didn't you? T-That's why you left for the holodecks."

She nodded. "I was a little concerned too. It's why I came back."

"I loved him, you know," he said, the stammer gone now.

She hugged him tightly then. "I know, Tom...I know..."

Often over the next weeks as they sped on their journey home, Tom would look at the vidclips of their son, even though it evoked so much pain. As B'Elanna predicted, it did become easier, albeit painfully slowly. He was compellingly drawn to the face of the little baby, with his dark hair and Klingon ridges, the face that seemed to light up in a smile, as if he were smiling at his Daddy. It was such an uncanny feeling, Tom thought. He knew B'Elanna must have gone through an extremely traumatic time, wondering if her husband would ever return, and then losing her little baby. Every time he thought of that, he was filled with a sense of guilt and remorse. B'Elanna at times during these weeks, when he mentioned it, growled fiercely at him saying:

"Tom, you had loss of memory. You couldn't help it." Then she would grab the sides of his head and shake him hard. "Stop blaming yourself, Tom."

He began to talk to her about their son, tentatively at first. She understood. She knew he was starting to come to terms with their son dying.

"Tell me... what - what was he like, B'Elanna," he asked one evening over dinner in their quarters.

"You remember how you said he'd be an engineer one day? That he could never stop banging on my breasts. Oh Tom," she said with a tenderness in her voice, "he was banging on my breasts, my cheeks, pulling my hair." She smiled at Tom, who looked at her in wonderment that she could talk so easily. "He was really a very lively baby. Could never stop moving."

"I'd have liked to see that," he said.

"We used to show him a large picture of you, Tom. Every day after you left. It was strange. Small as he was then, he would stare and stare at your face."

Tom smiled at that, his heart suddenly feeling lighter.

"It must have been my eyes," he quipped.

"It's true. Then we didn't show him the picture for a few days. He was just over two months old. It seemed he became quite solemn those few days we didn't show him your picture. Then we showed it to him again, some days later. He looked at your face, Tom." B'Elanna paused for a few moments, her eyes growing soft with the memory.

"That was the first time he smiled. The very first time. And he smiled at his Daddy."

She reached the table and touched his hand. It was a gentle, comforting touch.

"He - he knew me, even then?"

"Yes," she whispered. "He always knew you, Tom."

*************

Then there was the fighting - whenever they played 3D chess. It wasn't that B'Elanna couldn't take losing. She lost enough times to Tom. She was used to it. But did he have to gloat?

"Sweetheart, I have your queen cornered. Knock her down, will you?"

"Not on your life, Paris," she growled as she tried to protect her queen and moved her out of danger.

"You're in check. Give up, B'Elanna."

"Never. I'll beat you yet, Admiral." The growl became louder.

Tom moved his bishop, placing her in check again. Still holding the piece in place, he looked at her triumphantly.

"There. What can you say about that!" he expression told her.

That was when her already thunderous temper boiled over. In complete frustration she shoved everything off the desk, with tiers and pieces flying all over.

She gave a loud grunt, bared her teeth and attacked him. But he was ready for her, stalling her blows as she let fly with her fists. He caught hold of her, but she broke loose and picked up the first thing her hands touched: the magnificent three tier board she had shoved off the table earlier, and threw it at him. He ducked in time.

"B'Elanna, no! That's was the captain's set!" he shouted.

But she lunged at him. He caught her hands this time, and held very tightly. She was a strong as he, and he tended to forget that sometimes. Like now. Screaming her frustration because he imprisoned her hands, she threw herself against him. Oh, why was he so close to the bulkhead? Using the bulkhead to brace him, she sank her teeth into his cheek, really hard. Tom screamed in pain, letting go of her. He touched his cheek. It wasn't necessary. He knew he was bleeding, and when B'Elanna drew blood...

She straddled him again that night. Not that he minded.

********* 

They said their fondest farewells to the captain and some senior officers they befriended on their journey back. They were at Space Dock, Earth's orbital space station.

"Home at last," he said softly, his arms round his wife's shoulders, pressing his lips against her hair as they prepared to leave the quarters that been their home for just over a month.

Her hair was long now and he loved the luxuriant richness of it, especially after they've made love, with her hair all over them.

"It's too long now, Tom. I was just too lazy too keep it short," she complained to him one evening as they prepared to dine with the Captain, and she had dressed up for the occasion.

"What, and ruin the beautiful picture you make lying on top of me, with your hair all over us?"

"How like a man, Tom, to think only of yourself," as she looped her hair at the back.

"But seriously, B'Elanna, it looks very Klingon that way. I like it."

She was going to say something then, but bit back a retort.

They reached the transporter pad and within seconds, they were outside the front entrance to their apartment. Their luggage was transported a few seconds earlier.

"Wait here," Tom said as he carried the luggage inside first. They were to spend a month at Palings, while his mother, bless her heart, decided to accept his eldest sister's invitation to stay with them a few months.

"That's my honeymoon present for you," she said with a sweet smile the last time they were in video communication with her.

"Thank you, Mama, we'd love that," B'Elanna said, after pinching Tom when he wanted to refuse her offer.

Tom came outside again, while B'Elanna had been pacing the floor impatiently for the last minute and a half. Tom drew her into his arms, saying:

"Sweetheart, this is the start of our life together. Properly. When we got married - again, that is - there were so many things we didn't have, or do, like this - "

He picked her up high into his arms, and carried her over the threshold. He held her very close to him as he carried her to her bedroom. They  were going to use hers, it was the master bedroom. She buried her face in his neck.

"Oh, Tom, I missed this place so. You don't know how much," she whispered against his ear.

"Oh, my beloved, you don't know how I missed having you in it," he said, looking deep into her eyes as he put her down, his arms around her waist.

B'Elanna's heart was hammering as she looked up into her husband's face. There was a tremulous smile which played on her lips, a shine in her eyes, speaking of ancient secrets. Tom looked at her, feeling almost humbled at the expression in her face, of total trust and love.

"B'Elanna?"

"We're pregnant, Tom," she said softly, her eyes shining, unable to keep the happiness from her voice.

Tom closed his eyes for a few brief seconds, before he gathered her back into his arms, so closely, so closely. Then he said:

"Love of my life."

THE END

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