J/P, Rated PG
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.
By Anne Rose
The turbolift doors shut, and Kathryn collapsed against the wall in a fit of giggles. "Where did you get that idea? There are rules about portraying people in holo-programs."
Tom shrugged, but his eyes twinkled. "You're lucky your childhood didn't include Sunday dinners with Admiral Solkor and his wife."
"My quarters, 1900?" She said, pressing a warm kiss to his lips.
"I'll be there." He smiled - then straightened as the turbolift doors opened.
Straight and formal, they marched onto the bridge and took their chairs. "You have the helm, Mr. Paris."
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, as he set their course.