Red Dress Saga 01 Read online

  Red Dress Saga 01

  by Terri Zavaleta

  ********************

  B'Elanna took the infamous red dress out of the bottom drawer of her

  dresser and spread it out across the bed. 'I just want to look at it,' she

  told herself. 'Looking at it won't hurt anything.' She hadn't really studied

  it carefully when she'd first received it from Tom as she was too busy trying

  to sort through the implications of the gift.

  The dress was meant to be floor length, with a long slit up the left side

  to just above the knee. It looked exactly the right size. The idea that Tom

  could guess her size so perfectly bothered her. It seemed to indicate he had

  a lot of experience-a lot more experience than she did. And not just in

  buying gifts for women-personal gifts.

  The dress was a deep shade of red--it would be very flattering with her

  coloring. It was sleeveless and the neckline, with its two inch border of red

  sequins, was v-shaped and low-cut---but not as low-cut as Tom had indicated

  when describing it when they were prisoners on the Borg ship. She studied

  the dress for a moment then lifted it, held it in front of herself, and

  turned to gaze at her reflection in the mirror. It wasn't exactly immodest.

  But it was hard to tell how it would look if she was actually wearing it.

  'What would it hurt to try it on?' she thought. She tried not to think

  that she really wanted to see herself as Tom Paris desired to see her. She

  argued with herself for a few moments, then her curiosity got the better of

  her. She stripped off her uniform and slithered into the form-fitting dress.

  It was a perfect fit! She didn't want to look yet. The outfit wasn't complete.

  She peered into the box, pulled out the elbow-length red gloves and the

  sparkling, dangle ruby earrings and put them on. Almost holding her breath,

  she turned back to the mirror. She couldn't believe what she saw. 'I look

  good!' she told herself. She knew she had never looked better. The dramatic

  color suited her physically as well as emotionally. She had never felt so

  feminine, so attractive in her whole life. "This is how Tom sees me?" she

  asked herself aloud.

  Most men didn't show her personal attention. They treated her as an

  engineer, a comrade--not as a woman. B'Elanna didn't realize that she made it

  plain by her own conduct that she didn't welcome that kind of personal

  comments or flirting. She treated men professionally and they responded in

  kind. Since Javier--since her first broken heart, she had made a point of

  keeping men at a distance. She was friendly, but she was 'just one of the

  boys'.

  The revelation that Tom Paris had seen beyond her public persona and was

  interested in her as a woman---not merely as a friend--startled her and made

  her even more wary of getting involved with him. She revolved slowly,

  checking out her image from every angle. 'I'd need red shoes,' she thought,

  regarding her bare feet. The long dress made her look taller, slinkier. High

  heels would---

  "What am I thinking about?" Torres asked the ceiling. She slapped herself

  on the forehead, hoping to find her good sense. "I'm not going to wear this!

  Tom would get entirely the wrong idea. Besides, what would the rest of the

  crew say? I'm not going to be seen in this in public!" She started to

  remove the outfit, but hesitated as her image caught her eye again. She

  tried sweeping her hair up---telling herself it was just curiosity.

  The door chime on her quarters sounded. She looked down at herself and

  grinned. She was expecting Chakotay. He was coming to pick up some reports

  she had just finished and then he was taking her to dinner. An imp of

  mischief made her think of the expression on his face if he saw her in this

  outfit. It would be a great joke. She stepped closer to the door, struck a

  pose like a model, and gave the command, "Come."

  The door slid open. It wasn't Chakotay.

  It was Lieutenant Thomas Eugene Paris.

  Torres froze. She couldn't have moved or spoken at that moment if her life

  depended on it. Tom Paris was in a similar condition. As his eyes slowly

  scanned her, taking in every detail of her heart-stopping, glamorous,

  feminine glory, his mouth opened and closed several times. His blue eyes

  widened, his cheeks turned pink, and his heart was beating like a trip

  hammer. After what seemed like minutes, but was actually mere seconds, he

  managed a squeaky, "B'Elanna, you -- God, you're beautiful!"

  Torres felt every drop of blood in her body rush to her face. "Get in

  here and close the door!" She wheeled and stalked toward the sitting area of

  her quarters. She didn't know how she was going to explain this, but at

  least with the door closed no one else would be witness to her making a fool

  of herself.

  Tom hastened to comply. He still hadn't gotten his brain fully up to

  speed, but his body was fully engaged in the pursuit. He followed her like a

  heat-seeking missile that had acquired its target, only to stop abruptly and

  freeze in place when she whirled around with a definitely angry expression on

  her face.

  "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

  Tom's mind had gone blank. He couldn't make the adjustment to his

  changing emotions fast enough to follow her train of thought. The sight of

  her in that dress had driven every sensible thought from his mind. He had

  been caught up in the fulfillment of a fantasy the moment the door opened.

  Or at least the first part of his fantasy.

  "Paris! What are you doing here?" she repeated with an increase in both acidity and volume. She was tempted to grab her robe and throw it on as he continued to stare. She didn't because she didn't want him to think she cared if he--- that she cared what he thought.

  Tom made an effort and finally remembered why he was there. "Chakotay

  sent me to pick up those reports. He and the captain got tied up with

  personnel reviews." With the first sentence, it came back to him. "He asked

  me to tell you he'd be late for dinner. He said for you to go ahead without

  him." His voice dwindled as he ran out of things to say, and he found

  himself smiling at her admiringly. "That dress ---it really is your style,

  B'Elanna."

  "Thank you," Torres said reluctantly. "I was just trying it on---" She

  began to explain, but then couldn't think of anything else to say.

  "Wow," Paris sighed. His blatant admiration was very soothing to Torres' ego---and the fact that he didn't seem to expect anything helped her to relax.

  Then she remembered her earlier suspicions. Her eyes narrowed to study

  his reaction as she said, "It's an exact fit, too, Tom. How did you know my

  size?"

  He frowned, puzzled by the question and not understanding what she was

  getting at. "I replicated it, B'Elanna. I told the computer it was for you.

  The computer knows your sizes." He thought that was obvious so he didn't

  understand why his answer seemed to please her.

  A small smile cre
pt its way onto her face. "I didn't mean for anyone to

  see me. I was just trying it on--just to see what it would look like. The

  only reason I opened the door was I thought it was Chakotay."

  "You'd wear it for him?" Paris said. "You were going to wear it to dinner---with him?" His blue eyes were pools of dismay and he could barely get the words out around the lump in his throat. She refused to wear it for Tom Paris---but she would wear it for Chakotay?

  Torres was dismayed that he had misunderstood her. "No!" she exclaimed.

  "I wasn't going to wear it for anyone! I told you I was just trying it on! I

  couldn't wear this in public! Everyone on the ship would be talking about

  me!"

  Paris was relieved that she hadn't been trying to tell him she was involved with Chakotay romantically. "Everyone on the ship would be talking about how wonderful you look! B'Elanna, you could win the Miss Universe contest without even trying in that dress."

  "Yeah, sure." Torres' disbelief was patent.

  "I think you need to look in the mirror again," Tom said quietly. "Or

  have the Doc check your eyes. You must not be seeing what I see when I look

  at you. But then, maybe I'm biased since I did choose that dress."

  "You really think it's attractive? It's not too--too anything?" Torres

  wanted to believe he was sincere, not just flattering her to get---to please

  her.

  "Oh, it's too something all right. I'm glad the Holodoc isn't monitoring

  my heart rate now. I don't think he ever really bought that story about the

  spider." Paris grinned at her as she blushed, remembering the real reason his heartbeat had been erratic. "But I forgot--your dinner date stood you up. Would you like to join me for dinner, Lieutenant Torres?"

  "I am not wearing this dress out of this room!" B'Elanna stated

  emphatically.

  Tom nodded sagely. "Very wise of you."

  "What do you mean?"

  Tom reeled her in. "Well, I think it's very considerate of you. If you

  wore that out on the ship, every male crewmember would be distracted and

  drool all over the equipment. And all the female crewmembers--" He shuddered.

  B'Elanna couldn't resist. "What? What about the females?"

  Tom put on a sad expression. "Why, B'Elanna, they'd either try to kill

  you--or themselves in a fit of jealousy!"

  "Right," she said, but she couldn't resist a small smile. He could be so

  outrageous!

  "Actually, I had in mind---we could have dinner here. It wouldn't take

  ten minutes to bring a tray." Tom waited for her response, trying not to

  telegraph how important it was to him that she agree.

  "Here? In my quarters?" B'Elanna wasn't sure if she was comfortable with

  that idea.

  "Sure. Why not?"

  "And you want me to wear this?" She gestured to the dress and

  immediately regretted it for it centered Paris' attention on her body again.

  "Oh, yeah," Paris said breathily, and grinned at her.

  Torres nodded slowly. "On one condition."

  Paris raised his eyebrows and looked at her expectantly.

  "You have to promise to keep your hands off---you have to promise to

  behave!"

  "But, Lieutenant," Paris whined exaggeratedly, "that takes all the --half the fun out of it!"

  "Promise--or no dinner." Torres tried to sound determined.

  Tom nodded slowly. He was up to something. Torres could read his body

  language. "Of course, I promise. But I have a condition of my own."

  Torres brown eyes narrowed. "What is it?"

  "IF I behave myself all evening," Paris challenged, "I get a good-night kiss." He tried to look prim and proper but it was almost a lost cause. "Unless of course, you're afraid."

  "Afraid?" Torres repeated skeptically. "Why would I be afraid of a kiss?"

  Making it a dare was always a good method for getting Torres' attention.

  "Oh, it could be you're afraid that if you give me one kiss, it wouldn't be

  enough. You might try to ravage me!" His imitation of an outraged spinster

  was almost perfect.

  Torres held in the laughter with some effort. "Oh, I think I can handle

  the temptation. But do you think you can stop with just one kiss?" Trying

  for an effect, she tossed her hair back and put one hand on her hip.

  Tom lost his grin very quickly and took a deep breath. "Wow! It will be a

  major effort of willpower, but after all I am Starfleet! And you know what

  that means! An officer and a gentlemen---for as long as you want me to be."

  The last sentence was spoken seriously and with intent.

  Torres gazed into his eyes. "You! I'm starving. Go get our dinner!"

  Paris snapped her a hasty salute. "Yes, ma'am. Back in a few minutes!" He disappeared out the door and into the corridor, moving twice as quickly as normal.

  B'Elanna smiled as she growled deep in her throat. It almost sounded like

  a purr.

  ******************

  The End

 

 

  Terri Zavaleta, Red Dress Saga 01

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