Author’s note:  I held a contest among the Ites for naming Harry’s 
fiancee.  And Deirdre won.  Congrats, Deirdre!  So I claim all parts of 
the story but that one.

Beloved B’Elanna, Part 14 - Now and Forever
by Cheile

Dedicated to (oh, this is a hard one) Robbie and Roxann


        Ever since the incident when Chelsea had died, B’Elanna had always been 
wary of Cardassians, had always hated them.
        But somehow, it was hard to hate Elim Garak.
        Especially now, as he cheerfully went about his duties, taking 
measurements, making notes on a small padd, remarking that it seemed 
only yesterday he’d made Dax’s wedding dress, letting her know his high 
opinion of Tom, telling her what a beautiful bride she would make.
        *I guess all Cardassians aren’t the same.*  She hoped that Chelsea 
would forgive her.
        "Now, my dear," Garak began as he set down his measuring tape and 
crossed the room.  "Jadzia looked stunning in deep blue, but then it 
matched her eyes and excepting her spots, she is rather fair-skinned.  
You, on the other hand," and as Garak stuck his head underneath an 
overhanging drape of cloth from a bolt sitting atop one of the cabinets, 
his voice grew muffled, "with your dark hair, eyes and tan," he 
reappeared from beneath the drape, attempting to tug something out from 
beneath it, "would look wonderful—in traditional—aha!", as the object, a 
bolt of white satin, came free, "Terran white."  He brought the bolt 
over to her, unwinding a yard or so, draping it over her shoulders.  
"What do you think?"
        B’Elanna was uncertain.  Did she want to go with human tradition?  
Should she wear white or another color?  Now that the day was 
approaching, she couldn’t make up her mind about anything.
        While B’Elanna was still debating the idea in her mind, the bell rang 
and Ziyal entered, Linzia skipping behind her.  When Ziyal saw the white 
satin, a smile grew on her face.  "That’s perfect!" she exclaimed.
        Linzia also agreed.  "White good color, ‘Lanni."
        B’Elanna looked from the bright-eyed Linzia to a smiling Ziyal and a 
nodding Garak, and decided they were right.  She took a deep breath.  
"Let’s go with it."
        Garak nodded approvingly.
        Ziyal beamed.
        And Linzia jumped up and down, shrieking, "’Lanni’s getting married, 
‘Lanni’s getting married!"

*

        The three weeks had passed, and before she knew it, the day had 
arrived.
        She had chosen Tiffany Nielsen and Kes for her bridesmaids.  Kathryn 
was maid-of-honor.  And after getting permission from Jadzia and Worf, a 
delighted Linzia was made flower girl.
        Harry, obviously, was Tom’s best man.  Chakotay, Neelix and Daniel 
Morris, an old friend of Tom’s from the Academy, were the groomsmen.  
Tom’s five-year-old cousin Jamie was the ringbearer.
        The others were ready.  B’Elanna was in the small room connected to the 
foyer, completely dressed, hair done.  She was almost ready to go, but 
Garak wouldn’t let her see what she looked like.  First, he wouldn’t let 
her see the dress as he worked on it.  Then he wouldn’t let her see it 
before she tried it on.  And now that she was in it, he *still* wouldn’t 
let her see it!  It was absolutely maddening.
        B’Elanna tried hard to stand still as Garak circled her several times, 
fidgeting with the smallest wrinkle.
        "Can I look?" she demanded.
        "Impatient as Jadzia," Garak sighed.  "You can ask Ziyal, my dear, but 
when I make a creation such as this, I do not allow the wearer to see 
herself in it until I’m absolutely sure it looks precisely perfect."
        Four eternal minutes later, Garak moved away and opened the three-way 
mirror.  "You can look now."
        B’Elanna turned—and for an instant, saw someone else.  It took her a 
minute to realize that the stunned face belonging to the bride in the 
reflection was actually her.
        Garak’s creation had drop shoulders and a modest-cut bodice.  It came 
in at the waist, but flared out past her hips, ending an inch above the 
floor.  Lace covered the silk bodice to the waist.  The pure white 
brought out B’Elanna’s dark eyes and tanned skin.
        Ziyal, with Kes’ help, had designed the headpiece—a simple circlet of 
white rosebuds, a fingertip length veil attached.  The veil flowed over 
her shoulders and down her back.
        "Is that—me?"
        Garak laughed lightly.  "That is you.  Are you ready to join your 
party?"
        She nodded.
        The door opened and when Garak stepped out, the whole group looked 
toward him expectantly.  But he said nothing, only smiled as he moved to 
stand next to Ziyal.
        B’Elanna stepped out and at first, no one could speak.  But Linzia 
broke the silence.
        "Oooh.  ‘Lanni, you look so pretty."
        "Garak, you’ve outdone yourself," Jadzia added.
        The others nodded agreement.
        "B’El, you look lovely," Marc told his daughter.
        B’Elanna blushed.  She wasn’t used to being fussed over and it 
embarrassed her, though deep down, she liked it.
        Harry slipped through the double doors.  "The priest wants to know if 
y’all are ready."  Then he noticed B’Elanna.  "Whoa, Maquis, you’re a 
knockout.  Wait till Tom sees you—he won’t be able to ever blink again."
        B’Elanna could feel herself blushing again.  "Knock it off, Starfleet."
        He grinned at her.  "Is everyone ready?"
        "Just let us get to our seats," Garak said, leading Ziyal into the 
chapel.  Worf and Jadzia followed.
        As they lined up, Harry went back inside to take his place.
        B’Elanna leaned down to Linzia.  "Are you ready?"
        "I’m ready, ‘Lanni.  Are you?" she returned boldly.
        B’Elanna couldn’t help but laugh.  "Yes, I am."
        The doors opened as Jamie’s mother Laurel began playing the antique 
organ.  Tiffany was first to walk out, Kes six steps behind her.  
Kathryn followed.
        Eight steps after Kathryn, Linzia and Jamie, side by side, walked out.  
The second they were out of the foyer, Laurel switched the music to the 
processional.  Everyone rose to their feet and turned toward the back.
        Up by the altar, Tom smiled as he saw Jamie and Linzia.  How different 
they looked.  Jamie—blond, blue-eyed and serious in his small tux, 
bearing the pillow.  Linzia—dark-haired, in a blue dress that matched 
her eyes, slight brow ridges, Trill spots, happily scattering daisy 
petals, couldn’t care less.
        Then he looked past them, and his breath caught in his throat.
        B’Elanna, on her father’s arm, slowly making her way toward him.  The 
dress, Garak’s masterpiece, lace-covered bodice, drop shoulders, the 
white against her tan.  The wreath and veil, floating down her back.  
Her dark eyes, shining with so much happiness, a light blush coloring 
her cheeks.
        Once the two reached the steps, Marc released her hand to Tom, who led 
her up the steps to stand beside him.
        All during the priest’s talk, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.  She 
met his eye and blushed, which, to him, made her even prettier.
        As they turned to face each other for the vows, he happened to glance 
at Chakotay.  His face was expressionless, but the look he gave Tom was 
one that plainly said, "Be good to her—or else."
        *Don’t worry, Chakotay,* he thought as he slipped the ring onto her 
finger.  *That’s a promise I intend to keep.* 
        "Do you, Thomas Eugene Paris, take her to be your wife, to have and to 
hold, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish, until death do you 
part?"
        "I do," he said firmly.
        "Do you, B’Elanna K’Ehleyr Andrea Torres, take him to be your husband, 
to have and to hold, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish, 
until death do you part?"
        "I do," she answered softly.
        "Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."  
The kindly old priest nodded to Tom.
        Drawing B’Elanna into his arms, he kissed her tenderly.  She wrapped 
her arms around his neck.
        They separated and B’Elanna saw many things at once—her mother’s proud 
grin, a beaming Kes, the tears in Kathryn’s eyes, but most of all, she 
saw Tom, her beloved husband.  He grinned gently at her and offered her 
his hand again.
        They ran down the steps together.

*

        The reception began with the toasts, then the cake cutting, and finally 
everyone began to mingle.  Jadzia had brought baby Kelzia with her.  
Kelzia had bluish-brown eyes that Jadzia said would most likely turn 
brown like Worf’s, soft dark hair like Jadzia’s, and faint brow ridges 
and scattered Trill spots like her sister.
        After Jadzia had left to take the baby to Worf, Harry made his way 
through the crowd to them.
        "Tom, B’Elanna, I wanted you to be the first to know."
        "Know what, Harry?"
        Harry shifted from one foot to the other and blushed to the roots of 
his hair.  "I’m engaged."
        "Harry, that’s great.  Congratulations!" Tom exclaimed.  "So who’s the 
lucky girl?"
        Harry turned, motioning to someone in the crowd.
        The young woman that stepped forward was of exceptional beauty.  She 
had long black hair, eyes as dark as B’Elanna’s, surrounded by long, 
dark lashes.  Her skin was tanned and she had exotic features.  As she 
stepped forward, she took Harry’s hand.
        "Dia, this is Tom Paris, my best friend, and B’Elanna Torres, though 
actually, she’s B’Elanna Paris now.  Tom, B’Elanna, my fiancee, Dia 
Istari."
        "Hello," Dia said softly.
        "You might not have know, but Dia was on Voyager with us," Harry went 
on.  "She worked down in Stellar Cartography."
        "We don’t get much interaction with others down there," Dia said.  
"Except of course, each other.  So I was holed up in there, until 
Captain Janeway decided that I needed someone to work with.  And that 
someone ended up being Harry."
        "We got to know each other pretty well—and I guess we fell in love," 
Harry added, blushing again.
        Dia smiled softly.  "That’s one way of putting it."
        The musicians arrived at that moment, and Robert called Tom and 
B’Elanna to the dance floor, for the first dance.  Then B’Elanna danced 
with Admiral Paris and Tom danced with D’Lena, finding to his surprise 
that she was a wonderful dancer.  Seeing his startlement, she laughed.  
"Marc taught me all the human dances when we first got married.  I 
wasn’t sure I would ever need to know them, but I guess I was wrong."
        The third dance was for anyone—and Tom and B’Elanna sat it out, 
watching the other couples.  Harry and Dia, talking quietly.  Marc and 
D’Lena, impressing many of the other guests with their skill.  Odo and 
Kira, she leaning against his shoulder, Odo leaning his cheek on the top 
of her head, their eyes closed.  Worf and Jadzia, looking meaningfully 
into each other’s eyes.  And even Linzia, dragging Jamie through her own 
exaggerated imitation of Marc and D’Lena’s waltz, causing most everyone 
to laugh quietly.
        After several more dances, Robert announced that it was time for the 
bouquet to be thrown.  "All you single girls, gather over there."  He 
indicated one corner of the room.
        Alyssa handed B’Elanna the bouquet.  After the girls had gathered in 
one giant group, Tom spun her around three times and B’Elanna tossed her 
bouquet over her shoulder.  Several people jumped for it, but as if 
guided by some unknown force, it landed in Kathryn’s hands.  Delighted, 
she moved aside with the other girls as the guys gathered.  Tom slid the 
garter off, then B’Elanna spun him around and he tossed it over her 
shoulder.  Noticing Jamie attempt a flying leap, he began to laugh and 
didn’t see who caught it.
        It wasn’t until some time later, when they were dancing again, that he 
asked, "By the way, ‘Lanna, did you happen to see who caught the garter?  
I was totally focused on Jamie’s acrobatics and missed it."
        "Look over there," she smiled, motioning to their right.
        Tom followed her gaze to see Kathryn dancing with Chakotay.  They were 
very close, blissful smiles on both their faces, the bouquet in her 
hand.  But as they continued the slow circle, he could see very clearly 
the garter wound around Chakotay’s fingers.
        "Well, I’ll be damned."
        "I saw it coming three years ago."
        "Do you think it’s a sign?"
        "I don’t know.  You tell me."
        Tom laughed.  "I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, B’Elanna 
Paris.  Except maybe this."
        Pulling her close, he kissed her.  When they separated, he looked deep 
into her beautiful brown eyes.  "I love you, ‘Lanna."
        "I love you, too, Tom."
        "And I pledge my heart to you—now and forever."


The end—and the beginning…….

Legal B.S.  Paramount’s characters, my story.  I put this here so they 
can’t sue me.  Linzia, Kelzia, Jamie, Marc, D’Lena, Tom’s sisters and 
Tiffany Nielsen are my creations.  Dia Istari belongs to Deirdre.  
Copyright 1997, by Cheile.  Comments, queries, flames, etc.?  E-mail me:  
cheile@hotmail.com