First Glance, Part 5 - In Love with the Enemy
by Cheile and Laci Torres


        "I was born on Kessik IV.  My mother was K’Nera, a Klingon warrior.  My 
father was Adam Torres...."
        "A human," Tom finished.
        She nodded.  "When I was a very little girl, my parents seemed happy 
for a while.  Then when I was five, my father left us, went back to 
Earth, I presume.  My mother was in disgrace with her family because she 
had married a human.  So she raised me alone."
        "You must have been lonely."
        "When I began school, the other children never accepted me.  They 
considered me some kind of a freak.  That’s what they called me--a 
half-Klingon freak."  Barely contained anger was in her voice.  "I hated 
school.  Besides, none of the boys paid attention to me, except to mock 
me.  They didn’t want a half-Klingon girl.  And not only that, my mother 
had instilled it in my head that all men did was take advantage of a 
female."  She looked down and made a circle on the stone with her bare 
toes.  "Chakotay was the first man who didn’t mock me.  He told me he 
knew how I felt.  So I joined up with him and here I am."  She looked 
closely at him.  "Why did you want to know about me anyway?"
        "You know all about me, so I thought I should know about you."
        B’Elanna shook her head.  "Sometimes I think back and believe they’re 
right--that I am a freak."
        A slow smile grew on Tom’s face.
        "What do you find so funny?" she demanded.
        "It’s funny that the most beautiful woman I know thinks she’s a freak."
        B’Elanna whipped out her dagger.  "Are you mocking me, Paris?"
        "Far from it."  Unable to resist, Tom cupped her chin in his hand and 
leaned forward, brushing his lips across hers.
        B’Elanna leaned toward him.  She still held the dagger and was 
considering plunging it into his chest.  But she hesitated.  He was 
gentle, and as he deepened the kiss, he reached up a hand to caress her 
cheek.
        The dagger fell from her hand.
        "If this is going to lead where I think it will, you’d better be able 
to handle this, Paris," she breathed.
        "Tom," he corrected.  "And I can handle it."
        Her eyes were wide, full with passion and a hint of fear.
        Tenderness filled his heart.  He kissed her again, slowly unwinding the 
ties on her blouse, pulling it away, bringing his hands to her breasts.
        She gasped, grabbed him by the hair and rolled over, so that she was on 
top.  The fire in her blood was raging.  Now there was no way to stop 
it.
        Tom was as much caught by passion’s tide as was B’Elanna.  Within 
seconds, both were naked and in each other’s arms.
        He lay on top of her, looking deep into her eyes.  "B’Elanna, I swear I 
won’t hurt you."
        "I know."
        Not wanting to frighten her, he slowly came to her.  She tensed, then 
cried out when pain lanced through her.  She grabbed him by the hair and 
dragged his head down to hers.  "I thought you said you wouldn’t hurt 
me," she snapped.
        "Relax," Tom whispered.
        He lay motionless for a minute or two, letting the pain fade away.  
Then he began to move his hips, cradling her against him, kissing her, 
his hands wandering up and down her back.  Still, she was tense.
        "Go with it, ‘Lanna," he said softly.  "Let it take you."
        The fire began again.  B’Elanna moaned as the lightning shocks poured 
through her.  Never had she expected that it could be like this--the 
shocks, the pleasure, the slow build of pressure in the pit of her 
stomach that was ready to snap.
        And then it did snap.  She screamed as the shocks, more intense than 
before, coursed through her from head to toe.  She heard Tom’s groan, 
but then the second wave of shock shimmered through her and she was 
overcome.
        It took what seemed like forever to come down from the incredible peak.  
But when she did, her senses were heightened.  She was extremely aware 
of Tom’s closeness.  He was pressed against her, showering gentle kisses 
across her face.
        "’Lanna, my ‘Lanna," he whispered.
        B’Elanna was suddenly seized by an incredible exhaustion.  Murmuring 
his name and snuggling closer to him, she drifted into sleep.

*

        "Chakotay?"
        Chakotay turned to look at her.  "Yes, Kathryn?"
        "I--I...."
        He knew what she was trying to say, but couldn’t.  Rational thought 
left his mind and instinct took over.  Drawing her against him, he 
pressed his lips to hers.
        Kathryn felt a fire surge in her blood.  Never before had she felt this 
way.  But with Chakotay, it seemed so right.
        Chakotay looked into her aqua eyes, drowning in their depths.  How 
could he have known that this captive would steal his heart?
        His eyes left hers to slowly travel the length of her body.  She was so 
beautiful.  He had intended to seduce her, but it seemed now she was 
seducing him and she didn’t even know it.
        Kathryn gasped softly as he began to suckle gently, while his hand 
cupped the other one.  Her hands went to his shoulders for support.  
Releasing the one, he nipped lightly across her shoulders and down until 
he reached the other breast.  She moaned.
        His kiss moved down across her stomach.  Then he parted her legs 
gently, keeping his eyes locked with hers.  They were wide pools of 
ocean blue, barely visible in the darkness.
        "Kathryn," he murmured.
        He cupped her hips in his hands, then buried his face against her.  
Kathryn cried out in pure shock.  Instinctively, she clutched his hair.  
She tossed her head, crying out even as he continued the intimate 
caress.  The ecstasy that ripped through her was like ocean waves 
lashing the shore, the tide rising higher and higher until finally 
reaching the peak of the explosion.
        Chakotay heard Kathryn’s moaning scream and pressed her close, 
whispering reassurements, even as she trembled violently.
        "Oh, Kathryn," he whispered.
        Wanting her so badly, yet unwilling to hurt her, Chakotay took her into 
his arms.  Slowly, he entered her.  Her eyes widened, then fluttered 
closed as she whispered his name.
        "Shh, Kathryn."
        He began to move within her.  Writhing beneath him, Kathryn cried out 
again and again.  His hands cradled her hips.  He rocked with her, which 
only intensified the feeling.  The pressure was building, slowly, so 
slowly....
        Seconds later, the pressure snapped, spinning Kathryn off into a raging 
fire that consumed her senses.  She let out another scream as the 
intense ecstasy wracked her slender form.
        When she finally floated back down to earth, she lay trembling in 
Chakotay’s arms.  He lay with his head on her shoulder, his heart 
thundering against hers, gently stroking her hair.
        "My beautiful Kathryn," he murmured.  He buried his face in her hair.  
She wrapped herself around him and drew him closer.  Slowly, sleep 
overtook her.

        Chakotay lay awake for a while after Kathryn fell asleep.  A ray of 
moonlight fell across her features, making her even more beautiful than 
before.  Never before had lovemaking been so--fulfilling.  With her, 
only with her, could it be this way.  If he was eventually caught and 
executed, he knew he wouldn’t go without letting her know his love.
        So deciding that, he pulled her against him and surrendered to sleep.

*

        Kathryn awoke the next morning, disoriented.  She was snug and warm, 
and wanted to stay that way.  Yet something was nagging at her mind, 
telling her something was dreadfully wrong.  Still in a lethargic state, 
she tried to assess her surroundings.  She was obviously in bed, a 
pillow under her head, warm blankets covering her, a strong arm wrapped 
around her waist......
        Arm around her waist?  Her eyes flew open.  She jerked away and spun 
around.
        Chakotay lay sound asleep, the covers up to his waist, one arm flung 
out, the other beneath his head.  It was obvious that he was naked.
        And so was she.
        Shame filled Kathryn.  She had *slept* with him!
        A yawn interrupted her thoughts.  Chakotay stretched, rubbed his eyes, 
then sat up and drew her against him.  "Morning," he said softly.  Then 
he leaned down to kiss her.
        For a minute, Kathryn was overwhelmed by the kiss.  But then her senses 
came back to her.  She jerked away.
        He stared at her, bemused.  "What’s wrong, Kathryn?"
        "Get away from me, you Maquis bastard," she hissed, leaping up from the 
bed.  Catching sight of the nightgown, she quickly put it on, then 
turned to face him.
        A slow smile crossed his face.  "That’s not what you said last night."
        "You seduced me," she accused.
        "And you were willing," he returned.
        "I hate you, Chakotay," she said, her voice full of barely contained 
fury.  "I hate you!"
        His eyes narrowed and darkened, but she merely glared back, chin 
raised.
        He got out of bed and dressed, though she refused to look at him.  When 
he was dressed, she finally glanced at him.  It was a mistake.
        As if sensing her fear, Chakotay strode toward her.  When they were 
face-to-face, he looked down into her eyes.  Deep black met ocean blue 
and locked.  Neither was willing to look away.
        Unnerved, Kathryn tried to keep her gaze locked with his, but couldn’t.  
He cupped her chin and tilted her face up, forcing her to look at him.  
Then he touched his lips to hers in a gentle kiss.
        Kathryn began to tremble all over as he wrapped an arm around her.  The 
kiss deepened and his other arm went around her, drawing her against 
him.  Instinctively, her arms wrapped around his neck.
        Then suddenly he drew away, stepped out of her embrace, and released 
her.  His eyes were full of mocking scorn.  Then he left, leaving her 
standing there, trembling and a little empassioned.
        When the door closed, Kathryn’s anger finally came to the front.  She 
glared after him, then broke down.  Tears filled her eyes.
        "I really do hate you, you know," she whispered to the silent room.  "I 
hate you because you can’t love me back."

*

        Tom Paris slowly came awake.  He was aware of only one thing--that 
B’Elanna was pressed up against him, still asleep.
        He sat up and studied her.  In sleep, she was even more beautiful.  All 
her Klingon fury was gone, leaving her perfectly calm.  Her 
sleep-tangled hair framed her face.  He reached out and gently brushed a 
few strands off her forehead, then traced her brow ridges.
        He couldn’t get up, because she still had a hold of one hand, her 
fingers interlaced with his.  But he didn’t want to get up.  He wanted 
to stay with her like this.

        B’Elanna began to drift from sleep to wakefulness.  She knew she wasn’t 
alone in her bed, she could tell by the fact that she still had a hold 
of Tom’s hand.  She turned over and opened her eyes.
        He grinned.  "So you’re awake."
        Her mother’s words once again filled her mind.
        *Oh, shut up, brain,* she thought crossly.
        "Why the scowl, ‘Lanna?"
        She shook her head.  "I was just remembering what my mother used to 
tell me all the time."
        "Pretty bitter, wasn’t she?"
        "She thought it was my fault that my father left--because I didn’t 
look human enough to please him.  And I believed her."
        "You’re not a freak, B’Elanna Torres.  You’re the most beautiful woman 
I’ve ever set eyes on, and I mean it."
        He leaned down to kiss her.  B’Elanna embraced him, drawing him against 
her, as he slowly began to bring her senses aware to his gentle 
touch....

To be continued (Did you really think I’d end it here?)


Legal B.S.  Paramount’s characters, our story and alternate universe.  
Copyright 1997, by Cheile and Laci Torres.  Comments - 
cheile@hotmail.com and lacileigh@geocities.com