Ship of Dreams
by Lauren Taylor and Cheile

"Are you ready to go back to Titanic?"
     -- Brock Lovett, "Titanic"


        Voyager was passing through a nebula, and it was putting the
 ship in utter chaos. Engineering was in a constant state of panic, five 
of its people were in sickbay with burns, and her chief engineer hadn't 
slept in the past two nights. They were almost clear from the nebula 
today, Captain Janeway expected to be out of it in the next couple of 
hours.
        B'Elanna Torres brushed some hair out from her face, and yawned.
        "Tired?" Tom asked from behind her. 
        "Remind me never to stay up this long again." she told him. He 
laughed, and walked beside her to the warp core.
        "I'll make sure of that, and I'll make sure that once we're free 
from the nebula, you'll be going to your quarters, and sleeping for at 
least twelve hours."
        B'Elanna was about to respond to that when everything went 
black. 

*

        A few moments later, B'Elanna came to. She expected to find 
herself in sickbay, with the doctor and Tom hovering over her. But, 
instead, she found herself in a place she didn't recognize at all. She 
was standing at the bottom of an elegant wooden staircase that started 
out as two seperate sets of stairs, and met in the middle underneath a 
clock. The ceiling was an incredibly ornate glass dome, and couples and 
families walked by in fancy, old-fashioned clothes. She looked down to 
realize that she was no longer wearing her uniform. Instead, she was 
wearing a dark purple velvet dress with a bow in the back, and white 
lace in the front of it. 
        "B'Elanna?" she heard Tom call out behind her. She turned to see 
Tom coming down the staircase wearing a suit. He got to her, and dragged 
her off to a corner.
        "How long have you been here?" he whispered.
        "A couple minutes, you?" 
        "About fifteen, I arrived in our bedroom. B'Elanna, I know 
exactly where we are. Somehow, you and I are on the Titanic," he 
explained to her in a hushed voice.
        "The what?" she asked. The name sounded familiar, but she 
couldn't place it.
        "I'll explain later. Right now, you and I have to do a pretty 
good job of fitting in, or else people will know something's up. Now, 
the year is 1912, you and I are first-class passengers on a ship headed 
to America, and we are due at dinner any moment now," he explained to 
her. He held out his arm for them to link elbows, but she dragged him 
back.
        "Tom. What about the way I look?" she whispered, gesturing to 
her forehead. He thought for a moment, and pulled her close so they 
could whisper easier.
        "Just go with telling everyone that you were in a fire, and your 
face was burned. I doubt anyone will ask any more details." he told her. 
She nodded, and then they walked off towards the stairs leading downward 
that everyone was going to. 
        As the two of them neared the dining room, Tom put his arm 
around her, and began whispering to her. "Now, remember. You and I are a 
married couple, and we're about to have dinner with some of the most 
prominent people of the year. I am in the automobile business, and we 
live in Detroit. We're headed back home after a one month vacation to 
Europe. Got that?" 
	"How do you know all this?" she whispered back.
	"I found some information about us in our stateroom, and, some of 
it, I made up. Just go with whatever I say." he told her. They entered 
the dining room, and Tom led her to a table that had three people 
sitting at it, a woman in her thirties or fourties, and a couple, where 
the man looked much older than the woman. Tom pulled out a chair for 
B'Elanna, then sat down. 
        "So I finally get to meet your wife, Mr. Paris." the woman, who 
was in the seat next to B'Elanna, said. Tom laughed. 
        "That you do, Mrs. Brown. Molly Brown, I'd like you to meet my 
wife, B'Elanna." Tom smiled. He then turned to the couple, who was 
across the table from them. The man smiled. 
        "How do you do? I'm John Jacob Astor, and this is my wife 
Madeline." the man said. B'Elanna jotted these names into her memory, 
and smiled at Mr. Astor.
        "I'm Tom Paris and this is my wife, B'Elanna." 
        "Tom, eh?" a man said from behind them. B'Elanna looked up to 
see a cheerful-looking man in his mid-fourties sit down beside Tom and 
extended his hand.
        "Great name. Thomas Andrews." the man said. Tom shook his hand.
        A few more guests arrived for dinner, and there was hardly a 
dull moment with everyone talking up a storm. B'Elanna remained quiet, 
however, afraid she'd make a mistake by saying the wrong thing. Tom, on 
the other hand, talked with everyone, obviously an afficianado on the 
time period that they were somehow in. She knew that he enjoyed the 20th 
century, she just didn't know that he was this into the early part of 
it. Before she knew it, dinner was over, waiters were taking up 
everyone's plate, and Ida Straus was asking her if she wanted to take a 
stroll around the ship with the other women. 
B'Elanna wasn't sure what to say, until Tom intervened. 
        "If you'll excuse us for a moment..." he said to the other 
diners, "I have to talk to B'Elanna quickly." he explained as he took 
her arm and led her to a corner of the room. 
        "B'Elanna, do you think you can walk around with them by 
yourself?" he asked.
        "I've heard enough from the conversation at the table, I think 
I'll be fine. I already haven't said much, they probably think I'm shy, 
I can get away with that on the walk." she answered him. 
        "I'll meet you back at our stateroom later, the men and I are 
going to the smoking room in a few minutes." he told her.  "By the way, 
nice ring."  He grinned at her.
        She looked down to see an exquisite diamond and amethyst ring on 
her left hand, obviously meant to be a wedding ring.  She looked up at 
him in surprise.  He shrugged, then explained to her where the stateroom 
was, gave her a kiss, and they parted.

*

        Colonel Archibald Gracie studied young Tom Paris as he sipped 
his brandy.  He was deep in a conversation with Andrews about the 
Titanic's schematics.  *It's a good thing we're not around the ladies,* 
Gracie thought to himself.  Were young Paris not already married, all 
the single women on this ship between sixteen and fifty would be after 
him.  And even that fact didn't stop them from looking.  When Andrews 
finished talking, Gracie took the opportunity to speak to Tom.
        "So Paris, your wife is quite a lovely woman.  Wherever did you 
find her?  Italy?  Spain?"
        *On the Ocampa homeworld,* Tom thought.  But he decided to go 
with Gracie's latter suggestion.  "She's from Spain.  Her maiden name 
was Torres."
        "Those Spanish are quite protective of their daughters," Ismay 
remarked.  "How'd you convince her father?"
        "Her father died the year before we met," Tom began, his mind 
racing, making it up as he went along.  "Her mother had no objection, so 
the only stumbling block I had to deal with was her older brother."  He 
grinned a little.  "Chakotay wasn't happy at first, giving up his only 
sister to me, but eventually he grew to the idea.  Actually, we've only 
been married for about six months."
        Tom stopped, realizing that he'd blundered in mentioning 
Chakotay's name, but fortunately no one seemed to notice.
        "Quite a story," Ismay said, impressed.
        Not long after, the topic changed.  Gracie finished his brandy 
and got another.  As he began to sip the second, a conversation behind 
him caught his attention.
        "So she's from Spain.  That's what I thought.  She looks 
Spanish."  Gracie recognized the voice of 17-year-old Jack Thayer.
        A snicker came from one of his friends.  "Why'd he pick her 
anyway?  She's ugly."
        "Yeah," snorted another.  "No wonder her mother wanted her gone-
-with her face looking like that."
        Everyone but Thayer laughed.
        "Paris was probably the only man who'd give her a second look!"
        Gracie's gaze flicked back to Paris.  One look at the burning 
fury in the bright blue eyes and he knew that the young American had 
heard every word.  He watched as Paris slowly rose to his feet.
        "Leaving already?" John Astor asked.
        Paris ignored him, going straight to the other table.  The one 
who had been first to make a comment suddenly found himself picked up by 
the collar and staring into a pair of furious blue eyes.
        "In the future, I'd thank you to keep your comments about my 
wife to yourself.  And I'll have you know that it isn't her fault she 
looks the way she does.  When she was sixteen, her neighbor's hacienda 
caught fire.  She ran in to save a trapped child.  The flames got to her 
hair, and burned her face.  She has learned to live with the scars.  I 
courted and married her of my own choice, and I love her no less because 
of the scars.  And if I ever hear you--" Tom's glare moved to the others 
gathered around the table  "--any of you--say anything against B'Elanna 
again, I'll throw you overboard!  Got it?"
        Too frightened to speak, he nodded.  Tom released him and walked 
back to his seat.
        There was stunned silence for several seconds, then Gracie 
reached over and clapped him on the shoulder.  "Good show, Paris.  
That'll teach him."
        "You put the young whippersnapper in his place," Cosmo Duff 
Gordon agreed.
        "No more than I would have done if anyone had insulted my 
Madeline," Astor said.
        "Scars are a small price to pay for her heroic act," a fourth 
man put in.  The others agreed.
        After a few minutes of extra comment, the previous discussion 
resumed.  After another ten minutes, Paris rose again.
        "Are you going, Tom?" Gordon asked.
        "I really should be.  I'm a little tired--it's been a long day."
        "We'll see you tomorrow then," Andrews said, giving him a 
fatherly pat on the shoulder.
        They watched him go.
        "Interesting lad," Andrews said to himself.

*

        Tom slowly walked the corridors towards the stateroom, shaking 
with rage.  How dare those brats insult B'Elanna!  If he hadn't held 
himself back, he would have killed each and every one of them.
        Taking a few breaths, trying to calm down, he let himself into 
their room, to discover B'Elanna already asleep, curled up on one side 
of the huge bed.
        Changing into a pair of soft cotton slacks, he turned out the 
lights and crawled in beside B'Elanna.  Without thinking, he reached 
over and drew her close, studying her sleeping face in the pale 
moonlight coming through the window.  It was true what he'd said 
earlier.  He was with her of his own choice, and the way she looked did 
not make him love her any less.
        Drawing her ever closer, he tenderly kissed her forehead, then 
drifted to sleep.

*

        B'Elanna awoke slowly the next morning.  At first, she wondered 
where she was, then remembered.  As she awakened a little more, she 
could feel the rhythm of Titanic's engines somewhere far beneath her.  A 
different sound, different feel, but then this is a 20th century 
steamship, not a 24th century starship, she reminded herself.
        Sighing, she scooted back a little to try and relocate her warm 
spot.  Her eyes flew wide open when she realized that Tom was holding 
her close while he slept.
        She hadn't expected this--not considering the situation they 
were in.  But then, this was the man she loved, and as far as everyone 
else on Titanic thought, her husband.  She reached down to touch the 
amethyst and diamond ring that had appeared along with her dress last 
night.  Tom had made some whispered wisecrack about it when he had 
gotten up to go with the men last night after dinner.
        *Stop worrying about it,* she told herself.
        Deciding to do just that, she closed her eyes, snuggled close to 
him and drifted back to sleep.

        B'Elanna awoke some time later to find Tom gone and the sun 
streaming through the window.  Her eyes moved to the mantle clock.  
7:15.  Rubbing her eyes, she got out of bed and headed for the bathroom 
to get ready for the day.
        Twenty minutes later, she sat in front of the vanity, wearing a 
pale green day dress with three-quarter sleeves, brushing out her hair.  
So engrossed was she in her thoughts that she didn't notice Tom until he 
appeared right behind her.
        "Morning, 'Lanna."
        "Well, where have you been?" she teased.
        "Out on an early morning walk on the promenade," he answered.  
He set his hands on her shoulders and leaned in to kiss her.  Pulling 
back, he kept his hands where they were and studied her reflection.  As 
she watched, she noticed his eyes darken slightly.  But it vanished as 
quickly as it came.
        "Are you okay?" she asked.
        "Fine," he said quickly.
        She turned to face him.  "Tom, something's bothering you.  What 
is it?"
        He shook his head.  "Nothing.  Don't worry about it."  Leaning 
down again, he tenderly brushed a kiss over her brow ridges.  "I'll wait 
in the sitting room."
        B'Elanna watched him leave, then turned back to the mirror.  She 
finished brushing her hair, then opened the small jewelry box to see 
what was inside.  After looking through the dazzling array, she plucked 
out a heart-shaped gold locket with a 'B' engraved in the center and 
went into the sitting room.
        Upon seeing the locket, Tom whistled.  "Where'd that come from?"
        "The jewelry box on the vanity.  Can you put it on me, please?"  
She handed it to him.
        He took it and opened the locket.  His eyebrows rose.  "Well, 
I'll be damned.  Look at this."
        She looked at the picture inside and couldn't believe her eyes.  
It was in black and white, but it was definitely a wedding picture of 
her and Tom--he in a suit, she in an old-fashioned bridal gown.
        "How could this get here?"
        "Don't know."  He shrugged, then smiled softly.  "You do look 
beautiful in that gown."
        She flushed, then gathering her bearings again, turned around.  
He put the locket on her, and leaned in, kissing her once more.  "Come 
on," he said.  "We don't want to be late for breakfast."
        She smiled and followed him out the door.

**

        After lunch that day, B'Elanna was walking with Molly Brown, 
Lucy Duff Gordon, Madeleine Astor and Ida Straus.  Still afraid of 
saying anything wrong, B'Elanna barely said a word.  The others didn't 
seem to notice or mind.
        Eventually, Molly, Madeleine and Lucy decided they wanted to go 
to the Cafe Parisien for tea.
        "B'Elanna, Ida, will you join us?" Lady Duff Gordon asked.
        "Thank you, but no," B'Elanna said.  "I'm going to walk awhile 
more."
        Ida declined also.  "You girls don't need me around.  Go ahead."
        "Oh Ida, don't be silly," Madeleine said.
        "Go on, go on," Ida ordered.  "We'll see you at dinner."
        "Very well," Molly said to B'Elanna.  "We'll see you then.  Tell 
Tom I expect to hear more about his cars at dinner.  Maybe I'll buy one 
when we get home."  She laughed, then headed after Madeleine and Lucy.
        B'Elanna smiled a little and turned to see Ida scrutinizing her.  
For a minute, anxiety washed over her, then she told herself to quit 
being paranoid.
        "Come dear, walk with me and tell me about yourself."
        Inwardly, B'Elanna panicked.  She was trapped.  Nervously, she 
stared out at the sea for several minutes.
        "You're shy, aren't you?"
        Startled, B'Elanna turned to meet Ida's kind eyes.  She flushed, 
partly in shame and partly in embarrassment.
        "No need to be ashamed, my dear.  Some people are reserved, just 
as some are outgoing, like Molly.  It's not a fault."
        "I'm glad you see it that way."  They began walking again.  "My 
mother always considered it a problem.  Just like she considered the 
result of the fire a problem," she choked out.
        "You know that isn't true," Ida said softly.
        B'Elanna let out a heavy sigh.  "I know now."  Deciding to 
change the subject, she asked Ida how long she had been married.
        "41 years with my darling papa," Ida smiled.  "Tom told Isidor 
that it has only been six months for you two."
        "That's right."  B'Elanna made a mental note to go along with 
whatever Tom made up.
        "Isidor also said that your brother had an objection to the 
match at first.  He had the most unusual name--Chak-something."       
	  "Chakotay?"
        "Yes, that's it."
        "My parents liked unique names," B'Elanna said, silently 
reminding herself to ask Tom how the hell he had slipped up and 
mentioned Chakotay.
        As they continued to walk, B'Elanna found herself able to be at 
ease with Ida.  Of course, most of what she told Ida was fabricated, 
some of her own ideas, the rest things that Ida brought up that Tom had 
told Isidor.
        "I guess our husbands are getting friendly, just like we are," 
B'Elanna said some minutes later.
        "My Isidor has a way of opening people up," Ida remarked fondly.
        *Just like you do,* B'Elanna thought.
        "I know we have only known each other these few short days, 
B'Elanna, but you have become like a daughter to me," Ida told her.
        B'Elanna struggled to hold back her tears.  She gave Ida a hug. 
"Thank you," she said softly, drawing back.  
	  Ida smiled at her.  "If you ever need someone to talk to, I'll listen."
        "Ida, my darling."
        B'Elanna turned to see Isidor making his way toward them.  He 
smiled at B'Elanna, then took Ida gently by the arm.  "Come, my darling 
momma, you should rest before dinner."
        "Isidor, you're such a worrier," Ida scolded, but she couldn't 
keep the smile from her face or the love for him from her eyes.  "But 
very well.  We will see you at dinner, B'Elanna.  Tell Tom hello for 
me."
        "I will," she promised.
        As the Strauses headed away, B'Elanna felt a lone tear fall.  
"Thank you, Ida, for loving me like my mother never did," she whispered.

**

        On Sunday, April 14th, it seemed like any other day, aside from 
the church services that had been held through out the day. To Tom 
however, this day had been different. He knew that today was Titanic's 
last day afloat, and that today was many people's last day alive. He sat 
in the smoking room after dinner, not listening to the conversation 
about politics that Astor had started. Instead, he thought about the 
night to come. He checked his watch. Eight o'clock. Only three and a 
half more hours til she hits, he told himself.
He dreaded the talk he had to have with B'Elanna later, telling her 
about everyone who dies, and the women and children first rule. He had 
to tell her that tonight could also be his last night alive. 
        Tom looked around the table at the men who had become his 
friends these past few days. Thomas Andrews, who, very dignified, goes 
down with the ship he designed. John Jacob Astor, who tries everything 
to get on a boat with his wife, and ends up standing at the grand 
staircase when the water comescrashing in. Benjamin Guggenheim, who 
declares that he is dressed in his best and prepared to go down as a 
gentleman. And then there was J. Bruce Ismay, who, despite the fact that 
the sinking is largely blamed on him, hops aboard a lifeboat while 
fifteen hundred people are left aboard the ship and in the water to die. 
        "There goes your wife, Tom." Astor informed him as he saw 
B'Elanna, with Ida Straus, walk past the doors to the smoking room, most 
likely on her way to their stateroom. Tom stood up and sighed. It was 
now or never.
        "I believe I'll retire for the night, gentlemen. I'll... see you 
in the morning," Tom told them, hating what he'd said about the next 
morning. The men all bid Tom a good night, and he went on his way.

*

        "B'Elanna?" Tom called out when he got into their stateroom. 
        "I'll be out in a second, I'm changing," she replied from the 
bedroom. Tom sat down on the couch as he waited for B'Elanna, trying to 
decide exactly how to tell her that, in just a few more hours, their 
lives would be forever changed.
        "Have fun?" she asked him as she walked out wearing her 
nightgown and a robe, running a hairbrush through her dark hair.
        "I wasn't really talking with the men tonight, I had too much to 
think about. B'Elanna, sit down," he told her. She sat down on the couch 
next to him, and he took her hand. "B'Elanna, tonight's the night. 
Titanic hits the iceberg in about three and a half hours."
        She stared at him in open-mouthed shock. She hadn't remembered 
too much about the sinking of Titanic, and Tom didn't really seen to 
want to talk about it.
        "Oh, god." she finally whispered. She looked at him, and saw 
that this meant even more than she imagined it to mean.
        "B'Elanna, tonight, when they load the lifeboats, they load them 
using the women and children first rule. A lot of first-class men never 
got into a boat, and lost their lives," he said after a long pause.
        After another pause, B'Elanna spoke. "Tom, the people we sit 
with at dinner.  Who lives?"
        "All of the men die, except for Bruce Ismay and Cosmo Duff 
Gordon. Every woman at our table lives, but your friend Ida choses to 
die with her husband." he told her as he took her hand again. She looked 
at the clock. It was almost nine.
        "What time does the iceberg hit?" she asked, getting more and 
more frightened with every word.
        "About 11:40." he told her. He took a deep breath. "B'Elanna, I 
could die tonight. I might not get on a boat." 
        B'Elanna had no response to this, except to reach out and hug 
him, to hold him close to her, she knew that this could be their last 
night together.

*

        The two of them sat on a bench at the bow of the ship. They held 
hands, but tried not to look as if they were waiting for something, 
tried to just look as if they were talking. Tom made small talk when 
passengers and crew members walked by, but, when they left, he started 
back on telling her everything he could remember about the two hours and 
forty minutes of the sinking. 
        "Iceberg, right ahead!" they heard a man yell in the crow's nest 
above them. 
        B'Elanna looked into Tom's eyes, and saw the fear written all 
over them. A few minutes later, a crash came to the starboard side. A 
huge, white mountain scraped against the side of the ship.
        This was it.
        "What do we do?"
        "Come on," he said, rising and grabbing her hand.
        Dashing inside, they ran into the Astors, the Duff Gordons and 
Guggenheim and Madame Aubert.
        "B'Elanna, Tom, hello," John Astor said.
        "B'Elanna, you look a fright," Madame Aubert chided.  "What's 
happened to you?"
        "And do you know what caused that dreadful shaking a minute 
ago?" Madeleine put in.
        "We've hit an iceberg," Tom said.
        Shock was on all six faces.  "Iceberg?" Madeleine repeated.
        "We saw it," B'Elanna added.
        "Will it have damaged the ship?" Madame Aubert said.
        "It'll sink the ship," B'Elanna blurted before she could stop 
herself.
        Tom shot her a quick warning glance and spoke up before anyone 
else could respond.  "She's right to a degree.  If there were enough 
damage, she could founder."
        Guggenheim snorted, glaring at B'Elanna.  "Don't be ridiculous.  
This ship is unsinkable."
        "Be easy on her, Benjamin," Lucy Duff Gordon snapped.  "She's a 
little shaken."  Then she turned to B'Elanna.  "But he is right, dear.  
Titanic won't sink.  We will be fine."
        "No, you're wrong," B'Elanna cried, pulling away from Lady Duff 
Gordon's comforting arm squeeze.  "You're wrong!"  She dashed away from 
the others.
        "I think the incident has unnerved her more than I thought," Tom 
said by way of apology.  He excused himself and quickly followed her, 
catching up with her at the foot of the grand staircase.  "B'Elanna--"
        "No!" she cried, jerking away from him.
        He managed to lead her to a corner where they could talk 
unheard.
        "Why won't they listen to reason?!" she cried in a whisper once 
they were alone.
        "They don't know--they don't believe it will happen.  They 
refuse to believe that this ship could sink."
        She closed her eyes for a second.  When she opened them again, 
they were full of tears.  "I don't want to lose you," she whispered.
        He pulled her close.  "I know," he murmured.

*

        Within the next hour, the scene had become utter chaos.  Most 
people, told from the beginning that Titanic was unsinkable, refused to 
get on a lifeboat.  Once the ship settled lower in the water, it finally 
hit most of the passengers and they started boarding lifeboats.  But the 
crew, never having done a lifeboat drill, were very disorganized in the 
boat loading.  Some went out with no crew in charge--some had too many 
and several of the boats weren't filled to capacity.  B'Elanna couldn't 
believe her eyes when she saw one boat sent out with only 12 people, 
including Cosmo and Lucy Duff Gordon.
        Knowing he had to get her on a boat, Tom led her to one that was 
being loaded.  "Get on this one."
        "I'm not going."
        "Go," he said.  "I'll find another."
        "No," she insisted.  "Not without you."
        "B'Elanna, I promise you, I'll be fine."  He got her onto the 
boat.
        "Lower away!" Fifth Officer Lowe hollered.
        Everything seemed to blur into slow motion--Lowe yelling for the 
boat to be lowered, the two little Irish girls crying, the young bride 
waving tearfully to her husband--and B'Elanna's eyes locked with Tom's.
        The boat continued to lower.  Another distress flare shot up 
into the sky, bursting into brilliant light, illuminating Tom from 
behind.  His loving gaze never left hers.
        And she knew at that second that she couldn't leave him.
        Her gaze momentarily left his to figure out how far down the 
boat was.  She looked, she judged the distance.  She knew she could make 
it.
        One of the little girls shrieked in protest when B'Elanna pushed 
her aside, only to scream as B'Elanna leaped for the deck, just managing 
to scramble over the side.
        "B'Elanna!" Tom yelled upon seeing her jump out of the lifeboat.  
He ran from his spot on the side back toward the inside.  What the hell 
was she thinking?!  Why had she jumped off the lifeboat?!
        They met at the foot of the grand staircase, first crushing each 
other in a frantic hug.  Then Tom pulled away, cupping her face in his 
hands.  "Why?!  Why did you do that?!  How could you be such an idiot?!" 
he cried affectionately.
        "Because, you pig, I love you!" she cried back.
        "Oh, my B'Elanna," he murmured, kissing her fiercely.  She 
returned the kiss with equal ferocity, then they pulled apart again.
        "Come on," he said.  "We have to get back up to the boat deck."
        By the time they reached the boat deck, all the lifeboats were 
gone.
        "Now what?" B'Elanna yelled to him over the shrieks of the 
panicked people still left on the sinking ship.
        "This way!" Tom yelled back.  Taking her hand, he led her in a 
run toward the stern, which was still above water.
        As they ran toward the stern, B'Elanna saw an officer trying to 
separate Ida Straus from her husband.  For a minute, it looked like the 
officer would succeed, but Ida broke free just as they reached her.
        "B'Elanna, Thomas!  You are safe!  Thank the Lord," Ida said.
        "Madam Straus, please," the officer said.  "Will you board the 
lifeboat?"
        "No!" Ida snapped.  "I will not leave my husband."
        The officer sighed and turned away.
        "Ida, come on," B'Elanna urged.  "We can get into this boat, you 
and I, and Tom and Isidor can get on another."
        Ida shook her head.
        "Ida, please," B'Elanna pleaded.  Out of the corner of her eye, 
she saw Tom shake his head slightly.  He knew no matter what B'Elanna's 
pleas, Ida would not go.
        "No," Ida said again, softly.  "I will not leave my darling 
papa."  She clasped Isidor's hand.
        "B'Elanna, come on," Tom said.  "We have to go."
        She looked at him and nodded.  She started to follow him, then 
stepped back again.
        "Good-bye, Ida," she cried, reaching over to hug her.  Letting 
go of Isidor's hand, Ida wrapped her arms around B'Elanna.  "If it comes 
down to it, stay with your Tom," Ida whispered to her.  "I have lived my 
life with Isidor and I will die with him."
        "I will," B'Elanna whispered back.
        "He loves you for who you are.  That is what matters.  There are 
very few good men like that.  My Isidor is one.  Your Tom is another.  
Treasure that."  Ida released her from the hug and gave her a motherly 
kiss on the forehead.
        "B'Elanna," Tom said.
        B'Elanna looked through tear-blurred eyes at her friend before 
turning to follow Tom, unable to look back.
       The stern continued to rise by the minute.  Somehow, Tom and 
B'Elanna managed to scramble to the rail at the end of the stern.  
There, they hung on for dear life.  Minutes crawled by like years as the 
bow sunk deeper and the stern continued to lift out of the water.
        Then like a huge flash, all the lights went out.  Inch by inch, 
the stern rose even higher.  It was an awing and yet horrifying sight.
        "God Almighty," Molly Brown whispered.
        Seconds later, the deck boards began to crack.  Below, more 
cracking sounds could be heard.  Then the sides came apart between the 
third and fourth funnel.
        As the ship ripped apart, the stern swung downward, plunging the 
propellers into the water, on top of many hapless swimmers.  It came 
almost level, then as the remainder of the bow slipped beneath the 
surface, the stern was jerked up once again, flinging several of those 
still clinging to the rail down the their deaths.
        B'Elanna screamed as she was nearly flung herself.  She squeezed 
her eyes closed, not wanthing to watch others fall.  Behind her, she 
felt Tom tense again.
        The stern rose once more, much faster, until it was completely 
vertical.  Then the weight of the bow began to pull it under.
        "B'Elanna, listen to me."
        Forcing herself to block out the screams, she nodded, focusing 
on Tom.
        "When the ship sinks completely, it'll suck us down with it.  
When I say go, take a deep breath and we'll jump."  Reaching forward, he 
took her hand in his.  "Whatever you do, keep kicking and *do not* let 
go of my hand.  All right?"
        She nodded, lacing her fingers through his, clutching his hand 
in a fierce grip.
        The stern swiftly sank.  The two watched the water come closer 
by the second.  As it began to reach them, Tom yelled, "Now!"
        Both took deep breaths and leaped from the rails just as the end 
of the stern, which bore the words "Titanic--Liverpool" sank beneath the 
water forever.
        Despite their efforts to escape it, the suction pulled Tom and 
B'Elanna beneath the surface.  Tom kept his grip on B'Elanna's hand as 
he fought the pull, kicking furiously.  The suction lessened some and he 
was able to make some headway toward the surface.  He felt B'Elanna's 
grip loosen.  But before he could tighten his own, she was pulled from 
his grasp. He frantically tried to grab her again, but couldn't find 
her.
        *B'Elanna!* his mind screamed in a panic.
        He reached for her again in several directions.  When he still 
couldn't find her, he knew that it was possibly too late.  Finally, his 
need for air drove him to the surface.
        He surfaced in the midst of a panicking, screaming crowd.  Then 
a sudden wild hope came to him.  Could she have made it to the surface 
on her own?  Would he even be able to find her?
        "B'Elanna!" he yelled.  "B'Elanna!"
        Tom kept screaming until his voice was hoarse, but he still 
didn't see her. He swam to find something to stay afloat on, and called 
her name a few more times. She was still nowhere to be found. A tear 
slipped down Tom's cheek as the thought came to him that she could be 
gone, that he would never see her again. He found a door floating in the 
water, and pulled himself on top of it, looking around frantically for 
B'Elanna.
        "B'Elanna! B'Elanna!" he called out, his voice not being heard 
over thescreams of the fifteen hundred in the water all around him. Off 
in the distance were the lifeboats, and all fifteen hundred in the water 
were calling for them to come back. Tom knew what was going on in the 
boats. Molly Brown was trying her hardest to convince the officers to go 
back for more people, which would end up proving successful too late for 
most people.
        He began whispering B'Elanna's name, too tired to yell anymore, 
too tired to do anything but just fall asleep floating there in the 
north Atlantic, bringing a painless, slow death upon himself. Just when 
he was about to fall asleep, he heard a weak voice calling out his name. 
He sat up, and almost fell off of the door. He looked around to see 
B'Elanna swimming over towards him. Tom reached his hand out to her, and 
pulled her up onto the door with him, putting his arm around her to keep 
her warm. She closed her eyes inexhaustion, and smiled weakly at him.
        "I thought I'd lost you." she whispered. 
        "Same here." he whispered back, "The boats will come soon, you 
just have to  stay with me, they'll get here." 
        She nodded her head, and pulled herself closer to him for 
warmth. He wrapped his arm around her tighter, and held her in his arms, 
never to let her go again.

*

        Tom opened his eyes to see a lifeboat coming their way, 
searching for anyone who was still alive. He waved his arm in the air 
until they noticed him, then he nudged B'Elanna on her back. She didn't 
move. He took her hand, which was blue and freezing, and whispered to 
her. Again, she didn't move.
        "B'Elanna. B'Elanna, the boat is here." he said, in a voice just 
above a whisper. She still didn't move. He squeezed her hand, and a tear 
fell onto it.  He whispered her name again, this time through his tears. 
She moved slightly.
        "I'm here." she faintly whispered. The boat got to Tom, and one 
of theofficers reached out to help Tom up.
        "Wait, get her first." Tom told the men. The officer reaching 
for Tom glanced at B'Elanna, then back at Tom.
        "I'm sorry, sir, but we cannot take bodies." the man apologized.
        "She's alive." Tom explained to them. He took B'Elanna in his 
arms, and she opened her eyes slowly to show the men that she was indeed 
alive. They got her into the boat and wrapped her up in a blanket, then 
got Tom. He, too, got wrapped in a blanket, but as soon as the officers 
laid him down on one of the seats, he took the blanket off and gave it 
to B'Elanna. She reached out and took his hand and smiled at him with 
blue lips. He smiled back, glad that she would be all right. He closed 
his eyes, and finally got some much-needed sleep.

*


        B'Elanna opened her eyes to see Tom sitting up drinking water 
from a canteen, and looking at something off in the distance. She 
followed his line of sight to see a ship with one smokestack, floating 
in an ice field. She could barely make out the word "Carpathia" written 
on its side. Tom noticed her awake, and handed her the canteen. She took 
a few sips, and looked at him. He nodded his 
head, silently telling her that they would be all right, they would make 
it.  She was glad, for a few seconds, until the images of the friends 
she'd made began running through her head, the friends that did not make 
it. J.J. Astor. Thomas Andrews. Captain Smith. Isidor Straus. And, 
especially, Ida Straus. A tear ran down B'Elanna's cheek as she thought 
of them, and of the hundreds of other people that didn't make it. 
        Tom took her hand and gave her a reassuring squeeze. He was 
still there for her, after all that they'd been through, they came out 
together, they never let go.

*

        12-year-old Ruth Becker looked around at the small group of 
survivors.  So few, from a ship of so many, and no one she recognized.
        She walked among them for several minutes, searching for any 
sign of her family.  She couldn't find them.
        "Ruth," said a voice.
        She turned to see Tom Paris and his wife huddled together.  At 
last!  Someone familiar.  She quickly approached them.
        "I'm glad to see you made it safe," Tom said.  "Where's your 
family?"
        "I don't know.  I can't find them."
        "Stay here with us, then," he suggested.  "If you stay in one 
place, they're bound to find you."
        Ruth nodded and sat down across from them, pulling the blanket 
she'd been given around her.  She watched Mrs. Paris lean against her 
husband, closing her eyes wearily.  He leaned closer and whispered 
something to her, then tenderly touched a kiss to her forehead.
        Ruth smiled inwardly at the sight, then continued to look around 
anxiously.  Tom noticed.  He reached out and gave Ruth's shoulder a 
gentle squeeze.  "Don't worry, Ruth.  I'm sure they're all right."
        "Excuse me, are you Ruth Becker?" said a kind-faced woman.
        "Yes," Ruth said.
        "Your mother has been looking everywhere for you."
        "Ruth!"
        Ruth rose.  "Mother!  Marion!  Richard!" She ran to her family.  
After a long hug, Mrs. Becker stepped back.  "I'm so glad you're safe, 
Ruth."
        Ruth nodded.  "Mr. and Mrs. Paris made it OK, too."
        "That's good to hear.  Where are they?"
        "Right over here," Ruth said, turning around.
        But Tom and B'Elanna were gone.

**

        Blackness was all around B'Elanna again, but, this time, she 
heard voices. Familiar ones, not from the Titanic or the Carpathia, but 
from Voyager.
        "Are they all right?" Captain Janeway's concerned voice asked.
        "They seem to be fine, captain, but there is one thing that I 
don't understand. They have some cuts and bruises, but they both seem to 
have had their body temperatures drop rapidly." the doctor's agitated 
voice replied.
        Slowly, everything came into focus, and B'Elanna found herself 
lying on a biobed in sickbay with the Doctor running a tricorder across 
her, and the captain looking down at her worridly.
        "I see you decided to join us, lieutenant," the doctor said, 
"Would you mind telling us what happened in engineering?"
        B'Elanna didn't answer, instead, she sat up and looked around 
for Tom.
        "Where's Tom?  What happened?" she asked. 
        Captain Janeway placed a hand on her shoulder and laid her back 
down, "Tom's fine, he's still unconscious. We got a call from 
engineering about half an hour ago saying that you and Lieutenant Paris 
had fainted."
        "Half hour?" she asked, confused. 
        "Is something wrong, Ms. Torres?" the doctor asked.
        "Where's Ruth?" she asked. 
	  In the bed across the room, Tom was beginning to wake up. 
"What's going on?" he asked. 
        "It seems that the two of you have some explaining to do." the 
doctor informed them.

*

        "And you both recall the same memories?" the captain asked after 
Tom and B'Elanna had explained what they had been through these past 
four days, all of which had only been half an hour. The two of them 
nodded, still a bit shaken.
        "I don't know how to explain it, captain, but we were there." 
Tom told her, "I can recall every detail about it. It was real."
        "I believe you, Mr. Paris. As strange as it seems, I believe 
that it happened.  You and B'Elanna have done your fair share of work, I 
think it's only fair that you get some rest. 72 hours of it, to be 
exact."
        They nodded.
        The Doctor waved them out.  "Very well--you're dismissed, stop 
cluttering up my sickbay."
        Silently, they walked out.  B'Elanna was numb.  She barely 
noticed the other crewmembers they passed, and only half-realized it 
when Tom led her by her hand out of the lift and down the hall to her 
quarters.  Once inside, he ordered the door locked, swept aside her 
engineering smock and sat her down on the sofa.  He sat beside her.
        For the longest time, she remained silent.  Then she looked up 
at him.
        "Did the past four days really happen?  Were we really there?"
        He nodded.  "It certainly felt real."  He thought back to the 
chill of the cold Atlantic, the sight of the massive berg, the lurching 
of the ship as it split, the screams of the dying, the friends that had 
not survived.
        His train of thought was broken when he heard B'Elanna 
sniffling.  He drew her close to him, letting her bury her face in his 
chest and let out her grief.  He knew without asking the reason for her 
tears.
        "Ida," she choked.
        "I know, love.  You two grew very close in such a short time."
        "It was more than that.  She said I was like a daughter to her--
the daughter she never had."  She looked up at him again.  "She told me 
something else, too."
        "What?"
        "That if it came down to it, to stay with you, like she did with 
Isidor.  She knew, Tom."
        "Knew what?"
        "That you loved and accepted me for who I am."
        He kissed her forehead tenderly.  "There is no other way I could 
love you."
        She nestled her head against his chest and they held each other 
silently for a long time.

*

        B'Elanna sat in the mess hall, stirring her coffee with a spoon.  
She picked up the cup, and took a sip, only to discover that it had gone 
cold. She then realized that she'd been sitting at that table by herself 
for over an hour.  The mess hall was relatively empty at this time of 
night, there was only a few people sitting at a table on the other side 
of the room, and Neelix humming to himself as he fixed tomorrow's 
breakfast. 
        It had been one week since she and Tom had come back, and she 
had hardly seen him in that amount of time, they both started back to 
work two days ago, and kept to themselves all the time. B'Elanna was 
constantly feeling chills running down her spine as she remembered the 
freezing north Atlantic water, and tears would occasionally well up in 
her eyes as she thought about the people that were lost. 
        "Hi." a quiet voice said from behind her. She turned around in 
her chair to see Tom standing over her, with something hidden behind his 
back. She smiled softly, and motioned for him to sit down. 
        "How have you been doing?" he asked her. 
        "Better," she replied.  "What are you hiding?" she asked. He 
smiled, glad that she had noticed, and pulled a little purple bag tied 
with a white ribbon from behind him.  "This is for you." he told her.
        "Tom, you didn't have to get me anything." she explained to him.
        "I know, but I wanted to. After what we've been through, you 
deserve something special."
        She opened the bag to find the locket that was in her jewelry 
box on the Titanic. Her mouth opened in shock as she held it in her 
hand.  She opened the locket to find the old-fashioned wedding picture 
in it, along with a picture of the two of them in the mess hall on the 
other side. 
        "Tom, this is... thank you," she said, speechless. She fastened 
it around her neck, and then held it in her hand.
        "There's more," Tom told her. She looked at him curiously as he 
pulled a box from behind his back. He stood up, moved beside her, and 
got down on one knee.
        "B'Elanna," he began as he took her hand, "I loved pretending to 
be your husband, and loved the way this," he opened the box to reveal 
the wedding ring B'Elanna had worn, "looked on you. Will you be my wife, 
truthfully this time?" he said with a smile on his face. B'Elanna was 
smiling as she slid out of her chair, sat on the floor next to Tom, and 
kissed him.  While they were kissing, he slipped the ring onto her 
finger.  She didn't notice what was engraved on the inside of the band.
        "Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown 
it."

*


        50,000 light years away and three miles below water, the Titanic 
rested on the Atlantic seafloor.  Nothing disturbed her, except for an 
occasional passing fish.
        Once, she was a magnificent ship, carrying the elite across the 
vast ocean in a time where wealth and splendor were the only things that 
mattered.  But a mistake and an iceberg ended that one April night--and 
now here she would lay--as she had for the last five hundred years.
        But she would be remembered.  Remembered by schoolchildren in 
history class, by the descendants of her few survivors--and by two 
senior officers on a distant starship who now carried with them the 
memories of the ship of dreams.


"Titanic was called 'the ship of dreams'.  And it was--it really was."
     -- Rose Calvert, "Titanic"

"Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it."
     -- inscribed on the memorial of Isidor and Ida Straus


Legal B.S., as usual.  Paramount owns Titanic and Voyager--we own the 
story.  Copyright 1998, by Lauren Taylor and Cheile.  References used - 
"A Night to Remember" and "The Night Lives On" by Walter Lord.  Comments 
- cheile@hotmail.com, TomLover@aol.com