Disclaimer time once again! Sixteenth verse same as the first . . 
everybody *sing*:

I don't own these characters, (chorus) Paramount does!
I don't own this venue, (chorus) Paramount does!
I am making no money off of this, (chorus) Paramount does not 
either!

This story involves sex between two men, a.k.a slash.  It also 
involves sex between two felines, sex between feline and man, 
and sex between man and feline. Men, felines, sex.  Just so 
we're all on the same page here. If this is *not* your cup of tea, 
sweet as it is, then don't read it! (simple, ain't it??)  Feedback is 
*very* much appreciated and always answered.  Flames will be 
passed around to friends and chuckled over.  :)

'Animalia' by Amirin

This is dedicated to anne and all the rest of us diehards who 
write stories no one else reads.


**********************************************

Tom sighed, hacking his way through the woody vines as he 
carved a path for them to take.  It wasn't that he minded giving 
Chakotay a break, he just didn't want to be there.  The forests 
were beautiful, of that there was no doubt, but he couldn't help 
feeling that they were being watched.  He had glanced around 
on occasion and hadn't seen anything, yet the feeling persisted.

He looked behind him, checking to make certain that Harry and 
Chakotay were still following.  This seemed like such a wasted 
mission.  They had been advised to come here, after the people 
on their last stop had heard of their intention to take this route. 
Pirates and slavers abounded in this part of space and they had 
been told to seek the protection of the Ki'gali, whoever they 
were, as none would dare harm them if they bore the mark of 
that favor. 

Captain Janeway had asked their hosts how one might go about 
finding a people who had no means of communication systems. 
Their response had been to take to the forests on this particular 
world and let the Ki'gali find *them*.

So, here they were, wondering around aimlessly, waiting to be 
contacted by the mysterious race.  Sensors had been all but 
useless in trying to find them, causing Tom to wonder about the 
stories they'd been told.  The Legends had been impressive, but 
nonspecific.  A breed of warriors, fierce, who lived for centuries, 
seemingly immortal.  That was about it.  And the myth that they 
couldn't die, other than by old age.  People spoke of them in 
whispers, as it was said they could hear a baby's cry six worlds 
away and smell an enemy across the sector.  Lovely.

Tom plodded along, hacking through the tangle the 
old-fashioned way, as technology was frowned upon by the 
Ki'gali.  He wondered what *they* used to get through the 
foliage and sighed again, chopping a hole large enough to walk 
through.  He was also trying to ignore the faint whisper in his 
mind that said they were not alone.

Charrah followed closely, well-hidden by the dense underbrush. 
She moved silently, as befitted one of her kind, watching the 
tall, golden, two-legged one curiously.  He intrigued her for 
several reasons, not the least of which was his saving of her 
cub, Rosarah, earlier that morning.  Such an act of bravery, by 
an ordinary two-legged creature, was unheard of, even among 
her people. 

She recalled, in perfect detail, how that mangy Krevich had 
stolen her little one when he had wondered too far from home. 
Her mate, Pah'lil, had been gone for the hunt and it had fallen to 
her to go after the carnivorous canine and her baby.  She had 
already lost one to a serpent, earlier that season, and couldn't 
bear to lose another.  

She had known the instant she was gaining on the Krevich, his 
scent betrayed his fear, and she charged into a clearing to 
confront him. The two-legged one had been there and had fired 
a light-weapon at the Krevich, dropping him in his tracks.  Her 
delight had changed to apprehension when the strange creature 
had approached her cub, speaking softly, until she understood 
his tone and saw how gently his hands checked Rosarah for 
injury.  She moved closer, quietly, and another of his pride 
spoke a soft warning, causing the golden one to look up at her. 
He set Rosarah down and slowly backed away, allowing her to 
come and see for herself that her young one was uninjured, 
merely shaken and frightened.  She licked the foul scent of the 
Krevich off the baby fur, unable to tolerate it, and looked up, to 
meet the amazing eyes of the two-legged one who had saved 
her baby.  A hand on his arm, by the one who had spoken, 
pulled him back into the woods and she and Rosarah were left 
in peace.

She had taken the cub back to the pride, for safekeeping, and 
headed out to find the one who had saved her. They were 
making slow progress through the trees and she noted they 
were heading for the river, as she paced them.  They stopped, 
seeming to rest, and she halted, crouching low, listening to the 
sounds of their unfamiliar tongue.

Tom rose and headed back into the forest. 

"Tom?" Harry asked, as Tom nodded towards the dense growth.

"Call of nature, Harry," he replied, grinning at his friend's 
amused groan, leaving his two companions for the relative 
privacy of the trees.  Completing his business, he wondered 
around, looking up at the dense canopy the huge trees 
provided.  Lush, verdant, beautiful, he smiled in appreciation, 
still perplexed at the niggling feeling that he was being watched.

Charrah had followed, keeping close enough to catch his scent 
and paused, seeing his teeth bare.  She was puzzled; the 
actions of his mouth did not match the delight she saw in his 
eyes and she cocked her head, wondering at this new mystery. 
Suddenly a bitter scent filled her nostrils, one associated with 
pain and death and grief.  Her sharp eyes focused over the 
golden one's head and she saw it.  Vish'chral.  One of the 
species of serpent that had killed her first-born.  Heedless of the 
danger to herself, she charged forward, too quickly for the 
golden one to move. She bit into his shoulder and threw him 
bodily to the side, ignoring his startled yelp of pain and surprise, 
before snatching the snake off the tree, mere inches above 
where he'd been standing and flinging it to the ground.  She 
leaped on it carefully, avoiding the deadly fangs, and her head 
shook the neck violently until it snapped and the serpent lay 
limp before her.  Chakotay and Harry came at a run when 
Charrah roared in victory and took in the scene at a glance, 
startled eyes traveling from Tom to large feline to dead snake 
and back again.  

She went over to the golden one and licked the hand covering 
his wounded shoulder, before a familiar scent came from him 
and she watched as his body began shaking.  Impossible.  He 
was not of any pride on this world, his exotic coloring made that 
obvious.  She could feel the fever begin within him and backed 
away.  Her only thought was to get Pah'lil and bring him, so that 
he could see for himself, and she gave the tall one a deeply 
searching look before tearing away, to find her mate. 

Tom's head was swimming and he felt like he was burning up. 
Chakotay ran a tricorder over the snake's body, looking 
worriedly at Tom's flushed face.

"It was poisonous," the Commander said softly, running the 
tricorder over Tom, who was shaking, most likely with the rapidly 
spiking fever the tricorder was registering, even though it 
couldn't name the cause.

"It didn't bite me," Tom said, his voice sounding odd.  "She did, 
getting me out of the way."

Harry dropped to his side, concerned.  "Maybe her bite is 
poisonous, too," he said, reluctantly, relieved when Chakotay 
shook his head in denial.

Tom's breathing and heartrate were beginning to accelerate and 
he started tugging his boots off, simply because he desperately 
*needed* to, before coming to stand on shaky legs.  Gods, he 
was on fire and began undoing his uniform jacket with trembling 
hands, tossing it aside.  Suddenly, the light seemed too bright 
and he found himself heading deeper into the darker, cooler 
part of the forest, ignoring the loud shouts behind him, his only 
thought was finding someplace quieter.  He tore frantically at his 
remaining clothing, on the way, only finding relief when at last 
he was naked and he ran quickly through the trees, leaving the 
fading voices far behind.  

Finally, it grew quieter, darker.  Better now, but he was still 
shaking and he gradually stopped, surrounded by blessed 
silence.  He knew this place, somehow.  Knew a smaller part of 
the river flowed near here and he headed for it, dimly aware that 
he was a lot closer to the ground, now, as he took a large, fallen 
log at full speed, bounding gracefully over it, and headed for the 
nearby water.

Chakotay and Harry had stood dumbfounded, after watching 
Tom tear through the trees faster than any man could possibly 
go.  Harry had started after him, but Chakotay had held his arm.

"At his rate of speed, we'll never find him, Harry," the 
Commander now said gently, but firmly, cutting off the Ensign's 
protest.  "And since he left his jacket behind, with his 
commbadge, we can't track him using the tricorder to home in 
on it.  And the tricorder doesn't seem to be able to locate him," 
Chakotay frowned, studying the readings.  "We'll contact the 
ship and have them try and find him with the sensors," he 
decided, as Harry nodded, reluctantly.

"Gods, I've never seen him move so fast," Harry said 
wonderingly, shaking his head, looking at Chakotay.

"We may be able to track the feline," Chakotay went on, not 
wanting to think about that, right now.  "She bit him and his body 
was reacting to it, somehow.  The bite didn't register as toxic, 
but the side effects are obvious.  We should try and find her. 
She may be ill and it's possible she infected Tom when she bit 
him," he paused thoughtfully.  "I wonder if it's the mother of the 
cub he rescued," he mused.

"That would mean that she's been following us for the last six 
hours, Commander," Harry reminded him.  Chakotay reached 
for his commbadge and proceeded to inform the Captain of 
what had taken place, while Harry lost himself in thought, 
remembering the odd look in Tom's eyes.  Yes, they were wild 
with fever, but there was something else about them . . 
something strange.  He shrugged himself out of it, returning his 
attention to the Commander.  The man didn't look happy.

"They can't locate him," Chakotay stated, then explained as 
Harry's eyes widened.  "Sensors only indicate *two* human 
lifeforms on this planet.  We'll have to try and track him on foot." 

Harry nodded, stunned, wondering what sort of virus was taking 
hold of Tom, that would alter him so much the sensors couldn't 
even recognize him. He swallowed heavily and followed 
Chakotay into the forest.  A few moments later, they came upon 
the remains of his slacks, shredded.  They exchanged a look, 
the same question in both their eyes.  Had another large feline, 
or canine, gotten him? Chakotay ran the tricorder over the 
ragged fabric and shook his head.  "No blood, Harry," he 
confirmed with relief.

"Then how did it end up like *that*?" Harry asked sensibly.  

"Maybe another animal came upon it," Chakotay offered, 
shrugging, as they continued on, finding one article of clothing 
after another, all in tatters.  Turtleneck, socks, shorts, all of it. 
"So, he's running around here, naked," Chakotay sighed, 
running a hand over his hair.

"In his fever, he wouldn't know it," Harry reasoned.  "All he'd 
want to do, is get cooler."

Chakotay grinned at Harry's insight, scanning briefly with the 
tricorder, before he nodded to their right.  "There's a water 
source some distance over there, part of the river," he said, 
clapping Harry on the back, as they headed off to locate their 
missing crewman.

Tom, meanwhile, had reached the river and lay with his head on 
his hands trying to breathe.  <*Hands*, what a joke> he thought, 
as he looked at the fur-covered paws in front of him. He leaned 
down to drink again, the only way he could, face first, when his 
recently sharpened hearing picked up movement behind him.  
He whipped around to find another large cat there, somewhat 
bigger than himself, and light gray in color, like the cub from 
earlier that morning.  He watched, astounded, as it drew itself 
up onto its feet and became humanoid between one breath and 
the next.  Tom backed away, halting when a soft voice spoke to 
him. He understood the language and the improbability of that 
failed to bother him. 

"Hello, there, little one," the young, gray-haired man said, 
slowly, in a deep voice, taking what almost looked like a collar 
off his neck and unrolling it, wrapping the cloth around his 
naked hips. "I won't hurt you, you have my oath on it.  Charrah 
said you were of our kind . . I must confess I thought her 
mistaken.  And yet, here you are."  He eased himself down on 
one of the rocks by the water and Tom went to him cautiously, 
pacing back and forth in front of him. 

"I have *never* seen one with your coloring, or with eyes like 
those," he said quietly, startled at the bright blue looking warily 
back at him. "I am Pah'lil, mate to Charrah, whom you met 
earlier.  She has told me of your encounters with the Krevich 
and the Vish'chral," he paused, seeing recognition flare in the 
blue eyes at the names.  "You've had quite an eventful day, 
young one," he said, merrily, though unsmiling.  Pah'lil held out 
his hand and Tom crept closer.  He waited patiently and was 
rewarded by a golden head sniffing lightly at his hands.  Taking 
the chin, he looked into those blue eyes, stroking the twitching 
ears. 

"Are there others like you?" he asked, wondering where such a 
creature could have come from. Tom shook his head, then 
shrugged.  He felt he was looking at the only one like himself 
and the idea left him with an indescribable sense of loneliness.  

Pah'lil looked at him thoughtfully, as Tom stared dejectedly at 
the ground.  "Are you the only one?" he asked quietly, horrified 
at the idea of a Ki'gali without a pride.  Tom shook his head 
again and leaned into Pah'lil, swiping at his hand with his paw. 
Pah'lil frowned, not understanding what the little one was trying 
to tell him, and sighed, standing.  

"Well, what say you change yourself back to two legs and I'll 
take you to *my* pride.  We can talk on the way," he offered, 
seeing the golden feline shake his head, before staring up at 
him. "What, you can't change?" he joked, stunned into silence 
as the golden-furred head nodded.  He dropped to his knees, 
looking at Tom.

"You don't know *how*," Pah'lil breathed, realizing the truth, as 
Tom nodded again, miserably.  "Oh, young one, it's okay.  I just 
didn't understand.  This is your first transformation, isn't it?" he 
asked, gently, as Tom nodded.  "By the sacred waters, we've 
not known one of your kind in millennia.  You must have caught 
the gift from Charrah, when she bit you.  Don't worry, you *will* 
return to your human form, in time.  Frequently, the change 
happens to *us* as we sleep, in those moments before waking," 
the Ki'gali sighed. 

"There are many things you need to know, things I have to tell 
you," Pah'lil said, decisively, as he climbed gracefully to his feet, 
beckoning to Tom to follow him, before man and feline headed 
down the river.


              <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


The sun was beginning to set as Chakotay and Harry finally 
reached the river, a couple of hours later, to find no sign of 
Tom.  They sank wearily onto the rocks, exhausted from having 
to slash a new trail, and drank from their hands, dipped into the 
cold water.

"We'll stay here for the night, maybe he can find his way back to 
us," Chakotay suggested, seeing Harry nod, tiredly.  Neither 
wanted to leave, return to Voyager, with Tom still missing.  

They were gathering fallen wood for the fire, when the faint hum 
of a transporter beam alerted them.  The Captain and Tuvok. 
With food and blankets.

"Any sign of him?" Janeway asked quietly, as Tuvok explored 
the area.

"No, Captain, nothing," Chakotay reported, when Tuvok's voice 
brought them all to his location, near the rocks further 
downstream.

He simply pointed at the tracks and Harry stared.  Animal prints, 
as well as those belonging to a person.  Maybe.  The footprints 
didn't look quite human, to Harry.  Not Tom's feet? Then 
whose?  The Ki'gali?  He found himself wondering, as he 
followed the footprints back towards the woods.  Suddenly, they 
stopped.  Just ended.  His brow furrowed and he headed back 
towards the others, then followed them again, this time looking 
for offshoots, where they might've veered off.  Nothing.  Tuvok 
came over to inquire and he looked up, to find all of them 
standing there, staring at him. He flushed, slightly, before 
pointing down by his feet.

"Watch the footprints; they just stop, right here, and animal 
tracks continue on from this point," he explained, puzzled, as 
they checked the ground around them.  

"Curious," Tuvok intoned.  The Ensign was entirely correct, the 
animal tracks *became* footprints, joined other animal tracks 
and headed downstream.  Improbable, but fascinating.  

"Tomorrow, we'll follow them," Chakotay stated, sighing, as they 
headed back toward the fire.  Silence reigned, for a moment, 
until Chakotay told the Captain she didn't need to stay.

"Trying to get rid of me, Commander?" she asked, grinning 
wryly, as Chakotay demurred.  Any further conversation was 
interrupted by sounds in the brush, coming from the woods 
beyond them.  Tuvok and Chakotay had their phasers aimed, 
when a humanoid male, judging from appearance, came 
carefully toward them, one hand held up in what might have 
been a universal greeting.  Harry got the tricorder and activated 
the translator and the man's voice began, in Standard.

"I mean you no harm," he said quietly, coming closer as they 
lowered their weapons, seeing he wasn't armed.  "I am Pah'lil, 
mate to Charrah, the one you met earlier."

Puzzled glances flew around the fire. They hadn't met another 
human.  "I have been with your cub, explaining what has 
happened to him," he said, seeing the dawning realization on 
their faces. The Captain came forward.

"Is he all right?" she asked, gently, and the man backed up a 
step, looking to the males behind her, as Janeway made the 
introductions, speaking for this pride.  Interesting.  A *female* 
leader.

"He will be fine, Captain, he just needs rest.  What he has been 
through is exhausting and I'm afraid I've kept him away too long. 
It was not my intention to worry you, but there was much I 
needed to tell him about us," Pah'lil explained, looking behind 
him into the woods, before he held out his hand.  "Come on out, 
little one.  It's all right."

They turned expectantly toward to the rustling in the underbrush 
and only Tuvok failed to gasp as Tom came through, looking 
hesitant, walking slowly on four legs, long tail switching behind 
him.  "Oh, Spirits," Chakotay breathed, as Janeway brought a 
hand to her mouth, stunned.  Harry stumbled forward, passing 
them, avoiding their hands shooting out to stop him, before he 
came to a halt a few feet away from his friend and stared.  He 
fell to his knees and Tom approached him, slowly, looking up at 
Pah'lil as if for reassurance.

"Tom?" Harry choked out, eyes closing as Tom nodded a 
golden-furred head and looked at him challengingly.  Harry's 
eyes flew to Pah'lil.  "Charrah was the one who killed the snake, 
she saved his life," Harry put it together.

"Your . . Tom," Pah'lil said carefully, trying the name on his 
tongue.  "Tom saved my cub, by killing the Krevich, this 
morning.  Charrah repaid the debt," he explained simply to the 
cub kneeling on the ground, before joining him there.

"You can change from one species to the other?" Janeway 
asked, fascinated, as Pah'lil nodded.  

"We are born as *we* are," Pah'lil answered, scratching Tom's 
ears.  "It has been nearly two thousand of our years since we've 
had one as *he* is," he nodded to Tom.  "Back to the time of my 
sire's sire's sire."

"How long do your people live?" Janeway asked, astonished.

"When we are in our feline shape, Ki'gali do not age," Pah'lil 
explained, looking from one amazed face to the next.  "I will be 
in my four-hundred and twenty-sixth year in a few months."

Tom and Tuvok were the only ones not surprised, but Tom had 
been stunned, when he'd heard it earlier.  Pah'lil looked to be 
about his own age.

"Whoa," Harry muttered quietly.  "Is it the same way for Tom?" 
he asked.

Pah'lil nodded.  "Until he changes to his human form, he will not 
age, either," he stated.

Harry jumped in ahead of the Captain, hoping she'd understand. 
"So, he *will* change back?" he asked, eyes lit in hope that 
maybe the startling transformation his friend had gone through 
wasn't permanent.

"Oh, yes," Pah'lil assured the obviously-worried cub.  "And he 
will change back to the way he is now, there will be times when 
he won't be able to help it."

"What causes the changes to take place?" Tuvok inquired.

"If he feels he is in danger, he will change to his feline form. If 
he needs the strength, speed or other abilities of this form, he 
will change.  It happens in times of stress, emotional and 
physical.  But, as long as he mates, he will be able to change 
back to his human form at will."  He fell silent, seeing the 
distressed looks return on their faces.  "He doesn't have a 
mate," the Captain explained quietly.

"He has time to get one," Pah'lil assured, not understanding. 
"Those like him can change back and forth a few times, before 
they become unable to.  Then, he will *have* to mate." 

"What happens if he doesn't?" Chakotay asked.

Pah'lil was the one who now looked disturbed.  "If he is in his 
feline form and does not mate, and cannot change, he will 
forget his . . humanity, in time.  He will remain an animal, 
uncontrolled, living without his human intelligence.  He will be 
strictly a creature of instinct.  One of his instincts will be to hunt. 
Your people would be in danger.  He would not mean to cause 
harm, but he would be a wild thing, unable to act any other way. 
He *has* to choose his mate and share the gift.  It is the only 
way," Pah'lil said, firmly. 

"And the one he 'shares the gift' with?" Janeway asked, betting 
she already knew the answer.

"Will become like him, like I am, Ki'gali," Pah'lil answered.

"We have to get him back to the ship, talk to the Doctor.  Maybe 
there's something he can do," Janeway said to the others.

"I would advise waiting until morning, Captain," Pah'lil said 
quietly, looking at Tom, who was still looking at the ground.  "It 
is common for our people to change in sleep, as should happen 
to him, tonight.  I would like to be here, if I may. My presence 
may reassure him, but I have also never seen one of his kind, 
before.  If you would permit.  Just in case."

The Ki'gali didn't elaborate, but didn't need to.  Tom was an 
unknown quantity, to all of them, now, and Pah'lil was the 
closest thing they had to an expert.  Janeway looked at Tom, 
but he wouldn't meet her eyes.  Sighing, she walked forward 
and he glanced up, then quickly away.  She knelt next to him. 
"Tom, can you understand me?" she asked him quietly, seeing 
him nod.  "Would you prefer to remain here, until morning, just 
to insure that all goes as it should?"  As long as he had mind 
enough to make the choice, it was his and she wasn't about to 
decide for him.

Tom thought carefully and nodded, looking at her, somewhat 
distressed.  It was all she could do, not to pet him, as Pah'lil 
was doing, but he was not a cat.  Well, he *was*, but still. 
Janeway nodded, looking around her. Tuvok would want to 
remain for security reasons, Chakotay, to convince himself that 
Tom was all right (he was the leader of this particular away team 
and she knew how seriously he took that responsibility) and 
there was no way Harry would be pleased with being sent back 
to the ship.  She knew she could make it an order, for any of 
them, and sighed.  The ship was in no danger.  Fine, they'd all 
remain until morning and hopefully Tom would be back to his 
human form again.

"I suggest we all get some rest," she said quietly, grinning wryly 
at Harry's evident relief.  "Morning will be here soon enough."

"Captain, by your leave, your cub needs to eat.  And to eat, he 
needs to hunt. I can teach him," Pah'lil offered, acknowledging 
Janeway's nod with one of his own.  "A few hours, no more," he 
informed them, before heading into the forest, Tom on his 
heels, after one last look around the fire. 

Tuvok spoke into the silence.  "When he returns, we should 
inquire as to how to obtain his protection for our safe passage 
through this system."

Chakotay spoke up.  "If Tom is Ki'gali, now, we may not need it."

Janeway held up her hand.  "Regardless of how *convenient* it 
may be for Tom to remain what he seems to be, I intend to do 
everything in my power to restore him to his human form, 
permanently," she said, firmly. 

Chakotay's voice cautiously entered the silence.  "What if there 
is no cure for this 'gift', Captain?"

Janeway sighed.  "I can't believe a cure does not exist, 
Chakotay.  Our Doctor will just have to do all he can to find it."

Harry stared quietly into the flames. Now, he knew why Tom's 
eyes looked so odd, before he'd run off like he had.  He sighed, 
his own eyes closing, only to have them pop open at a hand on 
his arm.  The Captain.

"I'm sorry, Captain," he began, as she waved his apology away 
and settled next to him. 

"What were you thinking, Harry?" she asked gently.

"I saw his eyes, when he took off into the trees, after Charrah bit 
him. I just now realized why they looked so odd," he began, 
turning to face her as he saw her curiosity.  "The color was the 
same, but the irises had elongated;  they weren't human,  
anymore.  He had cat's eyes.  Even before he'd changed," he 
explained.

"Harry, try not to worry.  I'm confident we'll find an answer.  The 
Ki'gali have never looked for a cure.  That doesn't mean there 
isn't one," she placed her hand on his shoulder and stood, 
heading off to lay down and rest.  Harry couldn't sleep; he knew 
it would be a waste of time.

Harry sat quietly, waiting, mesmerizing himself in the flames he 
fed with gathered wood, on occasion.  His head raised as he 
sensed motion in the woods and he began to get a little 
nervous, until two large felines, a gray, carrying a rather large 
hunk of animal, and a slightly smaller gold came into view.  He 
grinned.  Tom was staggering as though drunk, definitely full to 
bursting with whatever the hunt had provided.  Pah'lil gazed 
over at the humans and his eyes settled on Harry as he 
watched the young golden one walk over to greet him. Harry lay 
down by the fire, Tom at his back, facing away from the light 
which bothered his eyes and Harry relaxed into sleep, followed 
closely by Tom, as Pah'lil dropped the meat near the fire and 
joined the one with the pointed ears, guarding the pride.

The young one had done well, for his first hunt.  He had not the 
strength of most Ki'gali, yet, but he was markedly faster. Pah'lil 
had been impressed.  For one born with two legs, he moved 
beautifully on four. His sense of smell wasn't as acute, but his 
eyesight seemed better than even Pah'lil's.  Especially where 
moving objects were concerned and in the dark.  Were he to 
remain, Tom would be most welcome in Pah'lil's pride.

Sunlight had barely touched the earth later that morning, when 
Harry was awakened by a trembling at his back.  He rolled over 
and saw Tom shivering.  He didn't think it was from cold, but he 
covered him with the blanket, just in case.  Soft sounds began 
coming from his friend and the blue eyes snapped open, staring 
at Harry unseeingly.  Harry moved away and noticed the others 
had already awakened.  Pah'lil had changed back into human 
form, and had removed the rolled cloth from his neck and 
wrapped it about his hips before coming over.  He sat next to 
Tom and watched for a moment, before laying a hand on the 
golden head and speaking quietly.

"Don't fight it, little one.  It shouldn't be this hard. You feel the 
need to change, as we all do.  Just let it happen," he said, 
softly, stroking  the furred ears as Tom whimpered, rolling onto 
his stomach.

Harry watched in amazement as his friend's body changed 
shape, under the blanket, the ears moving, the fur disappearing, 
the limbs lengthening, stretching out in front of him, as his 
fingers dug into the earth, back rippling as it took on the familiar 
human form.  Tom's eyes opened, just in time for Harry to see 
the irises change, as well, from long to round.

Tom groaned, feeling stiff, but the pain he'd been expecting 
never materialized.  A gentle hand on his head brought him 
upright and he smiled at Pah'lil, who looked startled, before 
backing away, halting in his tracks when Tom looked confused 
at his retreat.  "What's wrong?" Tom croaked, truly puzzled.

Pah'lil approached carefully.  "You bared your teeth at me," he 
tried to explain, stopping as Tom looked up and made an odd 
sound.

"*That's* why you never smile," Tom realized, his voice 
noticeably deeper than usual.  He was careful to grin with his 
mouth closed, before the odd sound started again.  "Laughter," 
Tom said softly, in explanation, holding a shaky hand out to his 
friend and mentor. "Humans do it when they're happy, relieved, 
amused."

"It is not a threat, an act of aggression," Pah'lil stated, making 
sure, taking Tom's hand before grinning carefully back at the 
little one's nod.  "Strange," he commented, hearing the odd . . 
laughter again.

Tom fell over onto his back, totally beat, feeling hungry in spite 
of the feast he'd had the night before.  He smelled something 
odd and found what was left of their kill roasting over the fire, 
tended by the Captain.  She saw his attention and began using 
the knife they'd hacked their path with, to cut him off a piece, 
skewering it and bringing it over to him. His stomach rolled and 
he turned away.

"Tom," Harry's voice said, quietly.  "You need to eat.  You're 
exhausted."

Tom's eyes opened and he shuddered, looking at Pah'lil, whose 
vaguely disgusted look he shared.  "I can't eat that, Harry. 
Thanks anyway, Captain."

Janeway looked puzzled so Tom explained.  "It's *cooked*, 
Captain," he said, seeing her eyes grow large and he looked at 
Harry.  "I'll eat something when I get back to the ship, Har.  I'll 
be fine," he finished, grateful when the Captain removed the 
offensive hunk of meat from his field of vision.  Ugh.  Cooked 
meat. He caught himself and grinned again at Pah'lil, who 
answered it with one of his own.  

Tom sighed, knowing it was time to leave, part of him wishing 
he didn't have to.  There was so much he wanted to tell the 
Ki'gali and he didn't know where to begin.  He stood, having the 
presence of mind to wrap the blanket around himself.  He 
tottered, for a moment, looking down at his legs and grinning, 
again.  "Damn, only two," he muttered, head coming up at 
Harry's snort of amusement.  He looked at his friend fondly for a 
moment, shaking himself at the odd urge to wrap his tongue 
around one of his ears.

"Thank you, for everything," he said to Pah'lil, his new friend 
responding by pulling Tom to him and holding him close.  The 
Ki'gali had gotten rather attached to this golden cub.

"You have a ways to travel, before you get home. If, by chance, 
it is not destined, your pride will be here, waiting for you to 
return.  And all those you bring with you will be welcome," he 
offered, voice gruffer than usual.

The Captain was loath to interrupt, but now was the last 
opportunity.  "We've been told we need the protection of the 
Ki'gali, to make it through this region of space, unharmed," she 
began, before Pah'lil held up one hand, halting her. He nodded 
to Tom.

"He *is* Ki'gali," Pah'lil stated firmly, letting her know that the 
matter had been discussed as much as it was going to be.

Janeway sighed, inwardly, not wanting to tell him that they 
intended to try to cure Tom as soon as possible.  She simply 
nodded and gathered up the nearby blankets, with Chakotay's 
help. 

Tom silently communicated a shrug to Pah'lil and got an 
amused look in return.  "Be wary, Tom.  Space is no place for 
cubs to play."  The Ki'gali stepped back, grinning at Tom's 
laughter, and watched them disappear from sight, thanks to 
their 'transporter' device, knowing how much he was going to 
miss the little one.

Tom was in Sickbay, under the doctor's care, before he knew 
what was happening to him. His mind drifted in all the bustle 
around him and he felt weary.  The lights in Sickbay were too 
bright to him, now, bothering him even in his human form, but 
he was unwilling to say anything, not wanting to be any more 
different than he already was.  He heard the Doc mention that 
his DNA had been altered and he couldn't tell how to fix it.  
Nothing he tried to reassert Tom's original pattern was working. 
Tom heard B'Elanna's voice complain to the Captain that the 
transporters didn't know he *was* Tom Paris and therefore 
couldn't remove the extra genes he found himself with.

"Captain, it would be like using the transporters to turn him into 
me, or Tuvok.  He's a species unto himself, now, and even if we 
could get the transporter filters to work that way, the resulting 
errors in his genetic makeup would probably kill him," B'Elanna 
explained, promising to keep trying.

Finally, the Doctor released him, uncured, but fit for duty.  Tom 
sighed tiredly as he called Harry to meet him for dinner.  

"B'Elanna and I will meet you there," Harry replied.

Tom noticed that B'Elanna looked at him worriedly when they 
met outside the mess hall, but he just gave her one of his usual 
grins and they headed in.

Harry saw Tom turn faintly green when Neelix handed him a 
plate.

"Neelix, I'm afraid it's a little well-done, for me," Tom said lightly, 
looking at the roast beast du jour, trying to ignore the churning 
of his stomach.

"How rare would you prefer it, Tom?" the cook asked, all helpful 
concern.

Tom's eyes lit on the counter, behind the Talaxian.  "That looks 
good," he stated, nodding to the slab of red meat.  Neelix 
glanced behind him, eyes widening in surprise.  "Tom, I haven't 
cooked that, yet," he stumbled, wondering if his friend was 
serious or playing another of his famous jokes on him. 

"I know, Neelix," Tom sighed.  "But, it'll be perfect, trust me. And 
you can keep the vegetables."

Very well, if the Lieutenant wanted nothing but blood-raw meat, 
he'd have it.  Neelix grinned.  "Let me slice it up for you," and he 
turned to carve half a dozen pieces off the hunk, sliding them 
onto a clean plate, which he then handed to Tom, who smiled 
his appreciation.  

"Thanks, Neelix," Tom said, quietly, turning to head to a table, 
with Harry and B'Elanna in tow, after they placed a request for 
their own *cooked* dinner.

B'Elanna looked faintly disturbed, sitting down, but Harry just 
looked curious as Tom cubed one slice of his dinner and took a 
bite.  Heaven.  He sighed, digging in with relish, distractedly 
listening to his friends discuss the latest trials of their day, 
deliberately not mentioning his extended stay in sickbay and not 
paying any mind to the Delaneys at the neighboring table, who 
were watching wide-eyed.

Harry was gesturing with his fork and not paying too much 
attention to whose plate it was over, when he accidentally 
speared a piece of Tom's dinner and, before B'Elanna could 
voice a warning, bit it off the fork and started chewing.  He 
halted mid-chew, and mid-sentence, when he realized what he'd 
done.  Tom look at him in concern, but Harry just appeared 
thoughtful and resumed chewing carefully.

"Harry!" B'Elanna said, looking revolted, watching his reaction 
carefully.  Suddenly, their table was significantly more crowded 
as the girls came over and made themselves comfortable, 
ignoring B'Elanna's glare.  "Harry, did you just do what I think 
you did?" Jenny asked, more astounded than disgusted.

Harry just nodded.

"Well?" Tom asked, genuinely curious at Harry's reaction.

"It's not bad," Harry admitted, skewering another piece and 
popping it into his mouth.  "A lot richer than it is cooked, the 
flavor is more intense.  The texture is pretty strange, but it 
tastes good," he decided, helping himself to another small 
square.

Megan looked askance at Jenny, who shrugged.  She borrowed 
Tom's fork and speared a piece, looking at it uncertainly before 
deciding what the hell. B'Elanna threw her own fork into her 
plate, noticing a marked decrease in her appetite.

Megan nodded, thoughtfully.  "The flavor is better, if you can get 
past the . . slickness of it.  Ya know, I bet it'd be better warmed 
up a little.  Room temperature.  The coldness is . . rather 
unsettling."

"I think she's right, Tom," Harry agreed, watching as Megan 
handed her fork to Jenny, so she could try it out for herself.

Tom watched bemusedly as Jenny followed her sister's 
example.  

"Yep," Jenny nodded emphatically.  "It would be better warm. 
Probably even better, if it was freshly killed," she added.

B'Elanna groaned.  "Oh, Kahless," she muttered, glaring at Tom 
when he held the plate out to her, grinning wickedly.

"Sure you don't want to try some, B'Elanna?" he asked, seeing 
her face screw up in a distasteful grimace, until she saw the 
challenge written on his. Shit.

She picked up her fork and sighed heavily, stabbing a small 
piece.  All four of them were watching her as she placed it 
delicately into her mouth and chewed, frowning.  She nodded, 
grabbing the plate, as she jumped up and headed towards the 
kitchen.

"It definitely would be better warm," she called over her shoulder 
as they watched, grinning, while she requested the raw meat be 
slightly heated. An amused Neelix furnished it with a smile and 
a bright pink garnish.

B'Elanna grabbed a couple of extra forks and nodded to the 
Captain and Chakotay, who had just arrived.  They looked at the 
plate of red meat with odd expressions, but she didn't pay any 
attention.  She headed back over to the full table and placed the 
plate carefully in the middle, handing the forks out to those less 
fortunate and they all saluted one another before digging in.

The Captain swallowed, looking at her First Officer, who 
shrugged, then grinned.

"Want to try it, Captain?" he asked, mischievously.

"I'll pass, thank you, Commander," she replied, smiling, as she 
headed to the kitchen to get her own dinner.  Chakotay smiled 
as she frowned, before handing it back to Neelix with a request 
that it be cooked, please.


                      <<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>


The tests continued for days after, with no luck, and Tom's 
patience was wearing thin.  He knew that they were all 
concerned about him but he didn't share their concern and truly 
only wanted to be left alone.  Because he *was* alone.  'A 
species unto himself' B'Elanna had said.  The only one of his 
kind, part terran, part feline, all Ki'gali.  He found himself 
depressed, strangely quiet, part of him wanting to go back to the 
one place that felt like home. Even though he hadn't seen much 
of the planet, he knew it by heart, and wandered through it in his 
daydreams, while he was waiting for the doctor to finish with 
him. 

His control was being sorely tested and sometimes it was all he 
could do, not to allow the change burning within him to take 
place, to feel the ground beneath *four* feet, once more. Tom 
knew it was only a matter of time before his control snapped 
and he found himself a feline, again.  He spent much of his time 
by himself, now, the ship too noisy for him to tolerate groups of 
people for very long.  His quarters were kept cool and dark, 
silent and peaceful.  Even his duty shift was becoming 
unbearable and he would never have dreamed that anything 
could supplant his desire to fly, but the desire to hunt, to run, 
was becoming powerful, and there was nothing he could do to 
stop it.

He even felt the desire to mate and that disturbed him. There 
was no one on board Voyager closer to him than Harry.  Not 
that *that* was the problem.  Even the Ki'gali took same-sex 
mates, especially when the pride was large enough that any 
more young would be difficult to provide for. Pah'lil had 
explained that they didn't bear more cubs than they could easily 
feed; they had no desire to watch them starve during times 
when game wasn't plentiful enough.  And it wasn't like Tom had 
never been involved with a man before.

No, the mating wasn't the problem.  The 'gift' was.  It drove him 
nearly out of his mind, sometimes.  How could he ask anyone, 
or *let* anyone, else share that burden?  He couldn't.  And that 
was what disturbed him. He *couldn't* take a mate, not without 
sharing the gift, creating another as he was.  What if something 
happened to *him*?  His mate would have to find another, take 
another mate, give the gift to someone else, or remain a feline, 
forever.  Literally, since they didn't age in fur. The Captain would 
not be pleased to have her crew become cats, one after 
another.  And besides that, accidents *did* happen. Someone 
could get bitten, mistakenly, then *they* would become Ki'gali 
and be carriers of the 'gift'.

He sighed.  The Captain would have to leave him in the Delta 
Quadrant if he became 'trapped' in his feline form. She'd have 
no choice.  He would be a danger to the crew, unaware of it, but 
still dangerous.  He knew it wouldn't be pleasant.  He'd be the 
only one of his kind, basically immortal and all alone. 

But, better that than the alternative.  Tom thanked whatever 
deity was responsible for his uncommitted state.  He wouldn't 
have wanted anyone he was involved with to feel like they had 
to join him, as Ki'gali.  Not that he was sorry it had happened. 
Strangely enough, he wasn't.  He loved the pure sensory 
overload in his feline form. The energy, the strength, the 
stamina.  But, as wonderful as the change was, he still found 
himself dreading the next time it would happen. And it was 
going to happen, it was only a matter of time.


                 <<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>


Voyager was continuing slowly through the region of space 
largely by using the sensors to avoid other ships, but it wasn't 
foolproof.  The day came when they were unable to avoid a 
confrontation and the resulting battle tested all of their limits, 
before Voyager emerged victorious, leaving a totally disabled 
ship behind them.  Tom's brilliant-as-always flying momentarily 
distracted him but now that the conflict was over, he felt himself 
shaking, sweating, clothing a nuisance, the lights too bright, the 
bridge too noisy.  He sat quietly, eyes closed against the glare, 
trying not to move, to calm his breathing, but the fire in his blood 
was undeniable and could no longer be ignored.

A voice sounded close to his ear, annoying him, like a mosquito 
whining.  He felt hands on his shoulders, turning him around 
and growled to himself, clenching his shaking hands into fists. 
The voice sounded again and his eyes flew open, before a snarl 
burst out of him, the roar that followed nearly knocking 
Chakotay off his feet.  Tom's gaze flew to the Captain's and she 
stared as the blue eyes with the elongated irises looked back at 
her. She barked a command that Tom could barely understand 
and he found himself in sickbay, growing more angry and 
agitated with every passing moment. This was *not* where he 
wanted to be!  He was sure his roar made that abundantly clear 
to the Doctor, as he violently pulled off his boots, stumbling, 
before tearing his uniform off of him and throwing it aside, 
followed quickly by the rest of his shredded clothing.  He found 
himself looking up at the Doctor and roared again.  Walking on 
four legs, he headed to the slightly darker area under one of the 
biobeds, away from the bright light, and crouched down, 
growling.  

Gods, he was hungry. He stared as the Doctor came to kneel 
before him and he growled a warning, wishing he could just be 
left alone.  A soft voice from the doorway, calling his name, 
brought his head around.  Harry.  Tom felt the anger leave him 
abruptly as he met Harry's eyes.  They looked frightened.  Of 
him, for him, it made no difference, they stilled him, taking the 
angry wind out of feline sails.  He headed out from under the 
bed, but the light hit his eyes and he retreated, whimpering in 
frustration.  

Immediately the light dimmed and Harry was there, stroking him 
gently, urging him out into the room.  He went quietly, following 
his friend, and froze when the Captain came through the door. 
He looked at the corridor behind her longingly, wondering if he 
could get there . . and then the doors swooshed closed.  He 
looked sadly at Harry, before dropping onto the floor and resting 
his head on his paws.  The only comfort that existed in his world 
right now, came from Harry's hands. He would have cried, if he 
could, the fire banked, now, leaving him in misery, all alone if 
not for Harry.  

He panted, still feeling hot, tired, and generally unhappy, when a 
shallow dish of water was placed before him. He looked up, 
meeting Harry's soft smile. He mrrrowed his thanks quietly and 
drank, feeling the cold water sooth his throat, as gentle hands 
soothed him, scratching his ears and his head, petting him, 
calming him. It felt wonderful and his eyes closed in blissful 
contentment.  He was exhausted, hungry and still not very 
happy with things, but they were looking up.  Harry was 
watching out for him.  A huge yawn nearly cracked his jaw and 
he felt his eyelids grow heavier.  He tried to open them, he 
really did, but it just wasn't happening.  

Vaguely, he became aware of a soft, yielding surface under him 
and cooler temperatures around him and sighed.  It came out 
as a quiet purr.  Gentle hands were still stroking him, a soft 
voice still murmuring, as he slid into sleep.

He awoke a short time later, starved and refreshed . . and 
naked.  In his own bed, thankfully, in his own quarters.  A 
presence on his head made him turn it and Harry's hand slid off. 
 Harry.  Sitting on the floor next to his bed, dozing, head resting 
on one folded arm.  Gods.  No one, man or beast, had ever had 
such a friend as this one.

Tom smiled softly, loath to wake him, but a growing hunger was 
making it impossible for him to remain in bed any longer.  He 
got out quietly and made his way to the bath, taking a quick 
sonic shower.  Water just seemed so . . wet and he decided 
against it.  Quickly throwing on some clothes, he placed a 
gentle hand on Harry's head and his friend woke, blinking up at 
him. 

"Hey there," Harry said, still slightly disoriented, but relieved to 
see his friend back on two legs.

"Hey," Tom responded, deep voice resonating in the silent 
room.  "Want to go get dinner?  I am *starving*," he said quietly, 
standing back as Harry nodded and rose to his feet, stretching.

"Sounds like a good idea, as long as you don't have to kill it, 
first," he said quietly, face breaking into a huge grin at Tom's 
bark of laughter, as they headed to the mess hall.


                  <<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>


A couple days later found Tom in his quarters, alone.  He 
sighed, looking down at his half-empty plate.  In spite of his 
bleak mood, he grinned.  Harry would say it was half-full.  He 
was starting to get sick of replicated beef.  Gods, what he 
wouldn't give for dinner on the hoof, as it were.  He groaned, 
thinking venison, antelope, when the door chimed, knocking him 
from his reverie.

"Come," he called out, placing the plate on the floor next to him, 
out of sight.  He'd discovered that a number of people couldn't 
bear to watch him eat, hence dinner alone in his quarters.  His 
grin widened, when he saw Harry come through the door. 
Fortunately, his best friend wasn't one of them.

"Hey there," Tom said warmly, reaching down to get his plate 
again, when he smelled something . . different.  And wonderful. 
He looked up puzzled.

"Your whiskers are twitching," Harry deadpanned, making Tom 
laugh.  Harry was the only one comfortable enough with him to 
tease him and he loved it.

"What is that . . delicious aroma?" Tom asked, not able to place 
it.

Harry grinned, holding out a covered bowl.  He lifted the silver 
cover off with a flourish.  "Buffalo!" he proclaimed, smile 
widening as Tom reached in with his fingers, snagged a piece, 
tossed it into his mouth, then leaned back against the couch 
and chewed, eyes closed, a totally rapturous look on his face.

"Pretty good, huh?" Harry asked, almost gloating.

Tom opened his eyes, pinning Harry, who looked sheepish, 
taking a seat next to his friend.  "Speaking from experience, are 
you?" Tom asked, smiling.

Harry shrugged.  "I wasn't about to bring you anything *I* found 
inedible.  The rabbit was a little too stringy, the bear too fatty, 
and the squirrel . . well, let's not talk about the squirrel, okay?"

Tom roared with laughter, tears coming to his eyes.  Gods, only 
Harry.  "Whatever you blew in rations, I will make up to you. 
Don't argue with me," he warned as Harry protested, before 
yielding graciously.

"Actually, you have the Commander to thank for the buffalo.  It 
was his suggestion," Harry imparted, watching his friend's eyes 
grow large.

"You're kidding," Tom said quietly, not quite believing it. 
Chakotay had been one of the ones most awkward around him. 
Of course, roaring in his face a couple of days ago hadn't 
helped matters any, either.

"Nope, I'm not," Harry said sincerely.  "He said some early 
American Indian tribes used to follow the herds across the 
plains of Old North America, using every part of the animal they 
could.  He had buffalo, once, when he was younger, during a 
ceremony with a tribe he visited.  Said he remembered liking it, 
so I thought I'd take a chance.  He was right, it's good.  Of 
course, he ate it cooked, but, oh, well," he finished, brown eyes 
meeting blue ones that appeared more amused than they had 
any right to.

"Thank you," Tom said softly.

"You're welcome.  I knew you had to be getting weary of the 
same old, same old.  It's no big deal," Harry waved it away.

"It *is* a big deal," Tom corrected him, finding himself at a loss 
for words, for once in his life, to express his gratitude.

Harry just smiled.  "Eat your buffalo," he said, reaching into the 
bowl for another small piece for himself, letting Tom have the 
lion's share.  No pun intended.


                   <<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>


Tom should have known it would happen again.  He wasn't even 
on duty, when the warning sounded, and every fiber of his being 
*still* went into full alert.  He was headed to the bridge in the 
turbolift, when the ship rocked and he was thrown against the 
wall.  He saw red as the anger filled him, liberally spiced with 
concern for Harry.  The turbolift shifted again, when Voyager 
was hit, and became stuck.  His breathing increased, his 
heartrate sky-rocketed, and he felt the familiar heat rise up 
through him. Dammit, not now.  He roared, feeling the change 
begin, as boots and clothes went flying, and heard the moment 
the sound changed from man to animal.  And he was trapped. 
It was all he could think about, the vague horror of being 
confined in a small space, and he paced, trying not to panic, for 
several quiet minutes.  That was something to be grateful for; 
the battle seemed to be over.  His commbadge finally chirped 
and he growled, frustrated at being unable to answer it . . wait a 
minute. He stepped on it lightly with one delicate paw and heard 
B'Elanna's voice.

"Tom, we'll have power restored in a minute, are you okay?" she 
asked worriedly, before a loud roar came over the comm.  "I'll 
take that as a 'no'," she said, working frantically to reroute power 
to get the 'lift moving. There!  Finally.  She quietly called the 
Captain, warning her that her pilot was currently a feline, 
trapped in the turbolift, sounding not too pleased about it, and 
on his way to the bridge.

Janeway paused.  She could override the destination, send him 
to another deck, but decided against it at seeing Harry's worried 
face. As long as he behaved himself, he could remain on the 
bridge.  She acknowledged B'Elanna's warning, thanking her for 
it, as the 'lift doors opened and Tom came bounding out, looking 
more than a little glad to be out of there.

Gods, was he! Tom turned around after exiting the 'lift and 
growled at it, before taking a few hesitant steps onto the bridge. 
He was a little surprised to find himself here, actually.  He really 
thought he'd end up in sickbay, his quarters, someplace other 
than the bridge.  

Janeway smiled at him, heart constricting at how lost he looked. 
"Are you all right, Mr. Paris?" she asked quietly, as he walked 
down the steps to stand next to her. 

Tom nodded, looking over her shoulder to make eye contact 
with Harry.  He exhaled heavily in relief.  The Ensign seemed 
fine, grinning back at him. Tom cocked his head and winked at 
him, prompting a chuckle.  He looked at the Conn, at Ensign 
Ciscio, and nodded.  She looked uncomfortable but it wasn't her 
fault.  Large felines weren't exactly standard issue on 
Federation starships.  He walked past Chakotay, resting his 
head on the man's arm for an instant, startling him. It wasn't the 
kind of thing he'd ever do otherwise, but he still felt badly for 
what happened during the last attack.  Chakotay had only been 
trying to help. The Commander was smiling slightly at him, now. 
He seemed to understand.

Tom headed up the ramp, coming to stand next to Harry.  He 
mrrrowed a 'hello' and flicked his tail against Harry's leg.

"Hey there," Harry said softly, looking down at him. "You okay?" 
he asked, before grimacing at such a stupid question.  "I'm an 
idiot.  Forget I asked," he berated himself, as a golden-furred 
head was suddenly at his elbow, Tom standing on his hind legs 
next to him. Harry couldn't help it, he reached out and rubbed 
Tom's head. 

Oh, heaven. Tom closed his eyes, relaxing against Ops, when a 
loud rumble startled them open again.  Shit, he was *purring*? 
He looked up at Harry, then quickly away, embarrassed.

Harry didn't stop, just kept on scratching Tom's ears, wondering 
what the hell he was doing, but not caring too much. If Tom 
didn't want him to, he could move away, growl, whatever.  He 
ran his fingers through the soft fur, one following the black nose, 
another trailing a furry cheek, a couple scratching under the 
chin.  The rumble began again, but this time Tom didn't make 
himself quit.  

Harry grinned at himself.  He was petting his best friend on the 
bridge.  Gods, he was nuts.  He sighed and blue eyes opened 
again, looking at him. His hands slowed down a little and Tom 
protested, leaning into one and rubbing his cheek against 
Harry's palm.  A wide yawn startled them both, Tom, because 
he didn't realize how tired he was, and Harry, because it was the 
first time he'd really gotten a good look at Tom's teeth.  Yikes.

Tom moved back, letting his front paws hit the floor, again, and 
lay down at Harry's feet. He opened his eyes, when he heard 
Harry's voice, too quiet for anyone's ears to catch but his. 
"Don't worry," Harry murmured softly, knowing Tom was 
listening by the way his ears turned toward the sound.  "If you 
start changing, you'll be back in your own bed before you know 
it, okay?"

Tom opened one eye and nodded, before letting his chin drop to 
his paws again.  He found himself wondering vaguely why he 
needed sleep so much in feline form and reminded himself to 
ask the Doctor about it, later.  Much later.  He knew he was 
drifting off and just let himself doze, knowing Harry was keeping 
an eye on him. 

Tom woke some time later, still on the bridge and still in fur. He 
was puzzled, wondering why the change hadn't happened.  He 
looked up at Harry, who squatted down next to him. 

"Shift change, you want to leave?" Harry asked, also wondering 
why Tom was still a feline. Maybe he needed to sleep longer 
than he had, to become human again.

Tom nodded, rising and stretching, yawning, then walked down 
the ramp to Chakotay, butting him gently with his head.

Chakotay's hand came up automatically, stroking Tom's ears, 
before he realized what he was doing and paused.

Tom looked up at him and snorted, wondering what the 
Commander would do if he gave in to the impulse inside him 
and . .

Chakotay was hard pressed to stifle a gasp when Tom's tongue 
licked his hand, before devilish blue eyes blinked innocently up 
at him.  He just shook his head and whispered, "Nice kitty," 
prompting a quiet growl from Tom, who looked as disgusted as 
a cat possibly could, before heading over to the Captain, after 
throwing one last glare behind him and thwacking the 
Commander's knee with his tail.  Chakotay just grinned at him. 
Even in fur, the Lieutenant still had to have the last word.

Tom shook his head.  He mrrrowed at the Captain, who had 
been watching it all with more than a little amusement, although 
only her eyes gave her away.

"You're dismissed, Tom," she said quietly, just a little worried 
that he was still in feline form.

Tom nodded and followed Harry into the 'lift, after looking at it 
uncertainly.

Harry knelt next to him as soon as the doors closed and stroked 
his fur, nails scratching lightly along his backbone, from neck to 
haunches.  Tom arched up into it, like he could help it, and 
purred loudly, the sound echoing in the small space.  "Sounds 
like someone needs a good back scratch, huh?" Harry asked, 
going a little harder and using both hands, when the 'lift arrived 
at their deck and the doors opened.

"Enjoying yourselves?" B'Elanna asked sardonically, seeing the 
grin on Harry's face and a look barely short of ecstasy on 
Tom's.

Harry jumped, looking up at her wryly, before climbing to his 
feet.  He opened his mouth to explain but decided the hell with 
it.  "I'm taking Tom back to his quarters for dinner, want to join 
us?"

B'Elanna smiled at him, still faintly amused at Harry's having 
adopted the role of caregiver so easily.  She nodded.  "Sure, 
what's on the menu for tonight and can I have mine cooked?" 
she asked, getting a chuckle from Harry and a snort from Tom, 
before they headed to his quarters.

Several hours and a huge dinner later, B'Elanna left, making her 
excuses.  Seeing Harry with Tom was rather . . odd.  

Tom was perfectly capable of feeding himself, but ate from 
Harry's fingers, anyway, carefully taking the offered pieces of 
meat and watching his teeth.  For all they knew, a slight scrape 
would be enough to give Harry 'the gift'.  The spaces of time in 
between bites were filled with pets and ear scratches.  B'Elanna 
snorted.  Harry had even called him 'Tomcat' once and Tom 
hadn't so much as blinked.  B'Elanna had once gotten up to get 
a bowl for Tom to drink from, when Harry had simply poured the 
water into his hand and let his friend lap it up from there.  It had 
definitely become time to leave when Harry had plunked himself 
on the floor in front of the couch and Tom had come over to lay 
next to him, head in Harry's lap.

B'Elanna shrugged mentally.  It was something she'd have to 
talk to Harry about tomorrow.  This was getting way too bizarre 
for her.

Back in Tom's quarters, Harry sat on the floor quietly, fingers 
running through golden fur, as his friend slept peacefully.  He 
debated getting up, but feared Tom would wake.  He was 
convinced that all his friend needed was more sleep and he'd be 
back on two legs by morning.  At least he hoped so.  He *really* 
hoped so.

He smiled as Tom's ears twitched in his sleep.  He softly 
stroked the short fur on the bridge of Tom's nose and the large 
feline settled quietly again.  Harry sighed, letting his head drop 
back onto the couch behind him, and drifted off, not particularly 
caring how stiff he was going to be, come morning.

He was awakened many hours later, much the same way he 
had been on the planet, to feel Tom quaking against him. He 
reached behind them, pulling the blanket off the sofa and 
spreading it over Tom's body.  Harry watched the transformation 
quietly, feeling Tom change against him, seeing the fur vanish 
and the limbs move, as his friend's eyes opened.  He rested a 
comforting hand on Tom's head, stroking hair that was just as 
soft as the fur had been and sighed as blue eyes opened and 
the irises altered.  Human, again.  Harry grinned with relief and 
Tom sat up, checking himself out, making sure all was back to 
normal, as much as it could be. 

Tom turned, sitting next to Harry, and yawned, as his friend 
turned sideways, placing a hand on his bare shoulder.

"You okay?" Harry asked quietly.

Tom nodded, smiling self-consciously.  "Yeah, Har.  I didn't 
mean to force you to spend the night on the floor," he grumbled, 
feeling guilty.

"You didn't force me to do anything.  I just didn't want to leave," 
Harry said honestly, smiling when Tom's hand covered his own, 
squeezing it.

"Thanks for staying.  I mean it," Tom said when Harry shook his 
head.  "I'm glad I didn't wake up alone to find I was still a 
member of the wild kingdom."

Harry frowned.  "Was there any doubt?  That you'd change 
back, I mean?" he asked worriedly.

Tom ran a hand through already tousled hair. "I wasn't sure it 
was going to happen. It seems I'm spending more time on four 
legs than I am on two.  I don't know how many shifts I have left, 
Harry, before I'm permanently feline," he said quietly, letting 
Harry see his doubt, the slight fear. "Part of me couldn't care 
less if I stayed a cat for the rest of forever, but that's the human 
part, the part that can still reason, think, and act intelligently. 
Pah'lil said I would lose that, if I couldn't change and didn't 
mate. And *that's* what scares me. The human being basically 
ceasing to be, replaced by some animal that wouldn't know a 
friend from a Kazon.  Gods, Harry.  To hurt someone I cared 
about and not even be aware of it.  That's the worst, you know? 
That I would have no idea of what I'd done, because I wouldn't 
have the human mind left to feel rotten about it," he finished, 
looking at his best friend's complete understanding.

"So, find a mate," Harry said quietly, eyebrows raised as Tom 
shook his head violently.

"*Never*," Tom bit off.  "I could never ask *anyone* to share this 
kind of existence with me, ever.  It scares the hell out of *me*. 
And it wouldn't be a temporary thing.  The 'gift' is permanent 
and Ki'gali mate for life.  I couldn't do it, Har.  I just couldn't," 
Tom replied, looking as alone as Harry had ever seen him. 

"The Doc will figure something out.  He's been working on this 
non-stop since you got back," Harry paused, considering for a 
moment, wondering if this was a good time to show Tom his 
surprise.  "Come on, get dressed," he decided.  "There's 
something I want you to see."  His mounting excitement was 
contagious.

Tom looked at him before sighing dramatically and rising then 
went into his bedroom to throw on some clothes.

Harry rose and stretched.  Damn, his ass was numb.  He shook 
it off.  It was worth it.  His friend was worth it.

Tom came back into the room and he and Harry headed out into 
the corridor and down the hall. He watched Harry rocking on his 
toes, looking rather pleased with himself, as they rode the 
turbolift in silence.  They got out and Tom wondered if they were 
heading to the holodeck.  Sure enough, they stopped outside 
the doors and Harry spoke a command.  The doors opened and 
Tom found himself back home.  He was stunned, as they 
walked along the familiar river, stepped over the rocks and went 
into the forest. It even smelled the same.  He looked at Harry 
and couldn't stop the tears he knew were filling his eyes.

Harry felt as emotional as his friend looked.  "It isn't complete.  I 
know you have the whole planet stored in racial memory, or 
whatever it is.  You'll have to finish it.  But it's got everything I 
remember.  Just in case.  I even threw in a few buffalo," he 
laughed, through tears.  "In case you have to spend the rest of 
your life in fur. At least you can be here," whatever else he was 
going to say got choked off when Tom's arms came around him. 

"You won't be able to come visit, you know," Tom whispered, 
miserably.  "I won't know you.  Promise me, Harry.  Promise that 
you won't try and see me. The cat wouldn't care if I killed you, 
but it would destroy whatever shred of humanity remained within 
me, if I did.  Please, Harry," he pleaded, as Harry nodded.

"Don't worry," Harry said softly.  "It won't happen."  And he found 
himself back in his friend's embrace for a moment, before they 
parted, grinning, composing themselves before leaving to 
change for duty.

They met back on the bridge and took their posts after one last 
shared look.  Tom winked at Chakotay and grinned when the 
other man snorted at him.  Duty shift was going smoothly until 
Tom smelled something strange.  Turning around in his seat, he 
checked out the crew.  Janeway was about to ask him was the 
problem was when Harry's excited but guarded voice entered 
the relative silence.

"Captain, I'm picking up some strange readings about eight light 
years from here.  I think I've found a wormhole," he finished in 
slight disbelief, looking up right into Tom's startled look.  Harry's 
excitement, *that's* what he had smelled?

"Mr. Paris," Janeway began, noting her pilot was already making 
the preliminary adjustments, finding their course automatically. 
"Let's take a look at Mr. Kim's wormhole."

"I'm on it, Captain," Tom said, beginning to pick up on the 
nervous tension flying around the bridge.  The hair on the back 
of his neck was standing on end but he tried to ignore it.

In no time, they were at the entrance to the wormhole.  Harry 
was conducting sensor sweeps to his heart's content, while 
Tuvok launched a probe into the opening.  The results were 
nearly immediate and dramatic.

"Four thousand, two-hundred light years from here *and* in the 
right direction," Harry said, his voice hushed. The bridge was 
deadly silent, then a collective sigh of relief went up from the 
group.

"Four years closer to the Alpha Quadrant," Janeway murmured. 
"Mr. Paris, take us in."

Tom watched his course carefully, trying to compensate for the 
fact that his hands were shaking.  He didn't feel the flush of heat 
that signaled an impending change, although his heartrate was 
increasing.  Simple excitement, he told himself, damn, get over 
it.

They emerged quickly on the other side and things got quiet 
again as Harry confirmed their new position.

"Captain, everything checks out fine, we're four years away from 
our previous location," he said, almost gleeful.

"And just that much closer to home," Janeway said, grinning at 
Chakotay, who smiled back.

Tom sat there still as stone.  Gods, what the hell was wrong with 
him?  He should be delighted.  Four years was four years less 
they'd have to travel.  He thought about home and his breathing 
sped up when he realized that home, for him, was four years 
*behind* them.  He swallowed heavily, watching as his hands 
trembled.

"Captain!" Harry's voice sang out.  "It's disappearing!  The 
wormhole, it's collapsing," he informed them as Janeway whirled 
around to look at Tuvok.

"Confirmed, Captain," the Vulcan said calmly.  "Our passage 
seems to have caused its collapse."

Janeway heaved a sigh.  The destruction was regrettable, but it 
had gotten them a little further along, in their journey home. She 
turned to Tom, to ask him to set course for the Alpha Quadrant 
and noticed his shoulders shaking.  Oh, gods.  She walked 
carefully forward, remembering Chakotay's reception the last 
time Tom had started changing on the bridge.  Putting a 
cautious hand on his shoulder, she spoke softly.

"Tom, are you all right?" she asked, getting a bad feeling when 
he shook his head 'no'.  She looked back at Chakotay and saw 
him realize that something was wrong with their pilot.  "What is 
it?" she queried, as he turned his head to her. Damn, elongated 
irises and blue eyes full of tears.

"I'm not heading for home," Tom said, his deepening voice soft 
and choked.  "I'm heading *away* from it."  The shaking got 
worse as he admitted it, to himself as well as the Captain.

Janeway's eyes closed as understanding filled her and her hand 
covered her mouth for an instant, until she saw how hard Tom 
was fighting, trying not to let the change happen on the bridge, 
again.  Tom's soft growl seemed to thank her as she ordered 
him transported to his quarters.

Harry sighed heavily.  Dammit, anyway.  He knew how Tom felt 
about the planet he was 'born' on; he'd seen the man's reaction 
to seeing it again on the holodeck.  He tried not to think about it, 
but it was impossible.  He concentrated on his work as much as 
he could, willing his shift to go as quickly as possible, until his 
relief arrived and he was free to leave.  He wasn't sure Tom was 
in the mood for company, but he didn't want him to be alone, 
just in case.

Harry keyed the door open to Tom's quarters and stepped 
inside, not seeing his friend on the floor in front of the couch, as 
per usual.

"Tom?" he called out cautiously, breathing a sigh of relief when 
he heard a mrrrow from the bedroom.  He turned the corner and 
froze, grimacing.  Tom had shredded the bedclothes; the sheets 
and blankets lay in pieces all over the floor. He sighed sadly.  A 
feline temper tantrum.  

"I don't blame you," Harry said softly, walking slowly over to the 
bed and sitting on it, next to his friend.  "I bet it felt a lot like 
when we knew we were all stranded here, years ago, if not 
worse.  I know part of you was kind of glad it happened, then. 
 Relieved.  I can only imagine what you're going through, now. 
 I'm so sorry," he finished, as Tom rolled over, putting his furry 
head against Harry's thigh.  He stroked the fur gently, trying to 
comfort his inconsolable friend. "You hungry?" he asked, 
scratching Tom's ears as he shook his head 'no'.  "Would you 
rather be alone?"  He hated to ask, afraid Tom would nod, but 
the 'no' was repeated.  

Harry shifted, tossing the miraculously intact pillows behind him, 
and lay back against them, holding out his hand.  Tom wriggled 
his way up the bed, coming to rest against Harry's side, tail 
flicking over his friend's legs as he leaned into him, seeking the 
compassion Harry gave so freely. They lay there for a while, not 
speaking, as Harry petted and Tom purred.  Neither noticed 
when they slipped into sleep.

Harry surfaced briefly the next morning, instantly realizing where 
he was and wondered what had woken him. Tom wasn't 
shaking, as usual.  Tom wasn't next to him, either.  He sat up 
and looked around for his friend. Not in the bedroom.  He got 
up, stretching, and found Tom on the floor in front of the doors 
to his quarters.  Harry swallowed.  Tom was still in fur and was 
looking at him warily.

"Hey there," Harry said, trying to be cheerful and not let his 
friend know how concerned he was that he hadn't changed 
back.  He headed toward Tom, only to stop in his tracks when 
he heard it.  Tom was growling, ears flattened, backed against 
the door.  Harry could feel the blood draining from his face. 
Maybe Tom was only hungry. He shook himself.  That growl 
said a lot more than 'Feed me'. He walked over to the replicator 
and ordered a large bowl of buffalo meat for Tom.  It was still his 
favorite, as far as he knew.  He walked slowly toward the large 
cat until he heard the snarl begin again and set the bowl down, 
then backed away.  All the way.  He kept backing up until he hit 
the wall on the other side of the room and slid down it, trying to 
be as nonthreatening as possible.

Tom came forward hesitantly, sniffing.  Part of him knew Harry 
didn't mean him any harm, but part was totally unsure exactly 
who 'Harry' was and that frightened him. The bowl confused him 
but the meat was fresh and he dug in.  It was gone on no time 
and he wandered around the small area looking for more, until 
he remembered, hazily, that the original batch had come from 
the man sitting against the wall and he headed over, carefully.

Harry stiffened and Tom froze, sniffing the air.  Harry watched 
the ears go flat and the eyes look at him warily before a growl 
came again.  He slowly moved his hand and tapped his 
commbadge, thanking whatever deity was responsible for him 
falling asleep before undressing, or it would still be in the 
bedroom.

"Kim to sickbay," he said quietly, noting how Tom's ears came 
up, before they flattened again and the feline hissed at him. 

"Sickbay here, Ensign.  How may I help you?" the Doctor's voice 
sounded, making Tom growl when he couldn't find the source of 
the noise.

"Tom didn't change last night, Doctor, and I don't think he knows 
just who I am," Harry said softly, not wanting to alarm Tom 
further.

"Then I would suggest you leave, immediately," the Doc said, as 
though stating the obvious.

"He's between me and the door," Harry informed him, flinching 
as Tom growled loudly.

"Since there's no one in sickbay, at present, I'll beam him here," 
the Doctor offered.

"I don't think he'll be too fond of that idea," Harry warned him, 
but the Doctor cut him off abruptly.

"It will also be much easier for me to examine him here, Ensign. 
Energizing," and with that, Tom disappeared, snarling angrily, 
into the transporter beam.

Harry lowered his head to his knees, wrapping his arms around 
them.  This was it, then.  He knew he shouldn't give up hope, 
but realistically, he knew it was unlikely the Doctor could do 
anything.  He felt the tears fill his eyes and brushed them away, 
in annoyance.  There was no point in acting like Tom was gone 
forever.  There was always the chance the Doc would come up 
with something.

He got to his feet, moving like a man four times his age, and 
returned to his quarters to shower and change before heading 
toward the bridge.


                  <<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>


Several hours later, they were in the middle of a senior staff 
meeting, with one member noticeably absent, when the Holodoc 
appeared.  Janeway wasn't the only one surprised.  She took 
one look at his face and asked him to have a seat.

"Any progress, Doctor?" she asked gently, knowing how hard 
he'd been working to find a way to bring Tom back into his 
human form again.

"Regretfully, no, Captain," the Doctor admitted with great 
reluctance.  "And we have another problem."

A collective sigh came from those assembled, as the Doctor 
went on.

"Mr. Paris has lost most of his human visual acuity," the Doctor 
informed them.  "He sees better than anyone here and that's the 
problem."

Janeway looked puzzled, resting her chin in her hand. 
"Explain."

"He can no longer see me," the Doctor said quietly.  "He can 
hear me, but he can't tell what's making the sound.  It agitates 
him a great deal.  I leave him alone as much as I possibly can, 
to keep him calm."  He paused, seeing a lot of unhappy faces.  
"It gets worse.  I transported him to the holodeck, to the forest 
simulation Mr. Kim programmed, to see if he would take a 
holographic mate. Unfortunately, he could tell it *was* a 
simulation.  He followed the boundaries exactly, in a perfect 
square, and roared.  He did not sound happy. Mr. Paris couldn't 
see the holographic female, the holographic game, or the 
holographic water.  In short, Captain, he was very much aware 
that he was not in a natural setting.  For all I know, he can see 
the grid on the walls.  However, he cannot see the forest, *or* 
the trees," he finished wryly, but sobered instantly.

"I don't believe there's anything else for me to do, Captain. 
Short of building an arboretum for him, and I don't think we can 
create one large enough for a feline of his size, on this ship.  I 
am loath to admit it, but I have run out of options.  There is 
nothing more I can do for him, medically speaking," the Doctor 
concluded, unhappily.

Janeway paused, thinking carefully.  "I don't want to leave him 
behind, on some planet in this quadrant, but this ship is no 
place for a wild animal.  I have the safety of this crew to 
consider, as well as his well-being.  Let's take some time and try 
to come up with another option.  Dismissed."

Harry left the Captain's ready room deep in thought.  He was 
glad his duty shift was over, he was way too distracted to man 
his post, right now.  He felt slightly guilty.  He had been the one 
who found the wormhole that took Tom four years from the one 
place he could have made a life for himself, even if he hadn't 
taken a mate. Which he probably would have, but would still 
have been trapped on the planet of his 'birth'.  Ki'gali mated for 
life and hated technology.  None of them would've wanted to 
leave their home and follow Tom back into the Alpha Quadrant 
and he would've had to remain with them.  For the rest of his 
life.  Gods, what a long time *that* would've been.

Harry couldn't even conceive of being around for *centuries*. 
The things you could see and do.  The next sixty years would fly 
by and Tom would only age what, ten?  He'd be Chakotay's age 
when they returned to Earth.  Harry himself wouldn't be much 
older than Tom was, now.  Damn, why was he thinking about it 
like that?  Like it was happening to him? He had to be honest, 
he could see himself actually doing it, returning home with the 
children and grandchildren of his crewmates, still a young man. 
He entered his quarters, but left the lights off.  He and Tom 
would be two of a kind, a whole new species.  The man was his 
best friend and he did love him, but could he love him *that* 
way?  Mated for life.  To Tom Paris.  He waited, giving himself 
plenty of time to shudder at the thought, but it didn't happen. He 
paced, wondering if he could actually do it and tried not to think 
about whether Tom would do it for him, whether he'd want to.  
Tom was the sort who just jumped into things like this without 
considering the consequences of his actions.  Harry was the 
one who thought everything to death, weighing the pros and 
cons carefully.  He had to admit that Tom probably would, if 
there was no other way.  He didn't want to think about whether 
Tom would regret it, or not.

Harry sighed.  Could he do this?  Yes.  Did he want to?  He got 
butterflies thinking about it but he thought he did.  Yes.  Not 
knowing how Tom felt about him, or could feel someday, 
shouldn't have any bearing on his decision, but it did.  Did it 
matter? Some, yes.  If Tom couldn't, or wouldn't, love him, it 
would be a very long lifetime.  His gut told him to go for it, his 
head was having fits.  He sighed, stiffening his spine.  If he was 
going to spend the rest of his life as a Ki'gali, he was going to 
have to learn to listen to his instincts.  And there was no time to 
start, like the present.  He took a deep breath and nodded to 
himself, before heading out of his quarters and making his way 
to sickbay. 

Harry paused briefly on entering sickbay to let his eyes adjust to 
the darkness.  Where was . . there, under the biobed.  Tom.  In 
full fur.  Harry stood quietly and watched the glowing eyes watch 
him, before the vaguely feline shape emerged from the 
shadows.  

Tom recognized the scent of the man coming closer, 
associating it with vague perceptions of being cared-for and 
protected.  The earlier confusion was gone and with it, the fear it 
caused.  He was wary, but no longer frightened.  Some small 
part of Tom was actually relieved to see him. Above all, he 
knew that this man must not be harmed. 

Harry walked cautiously towards Tom, hoping he wasn't being 
perceived as threatening.  Tom backed away, growling, and 
crouched low, headed for the wall.  Harry felt a little lost at the 
seeming loss of trust and began talking quietly, soothingly.

"Hey, there, I'm not going to hurt you, Tom.  You know that; you 
*know* me. I'd never hurt you," he paused in sudden realization. 
"Wait a minute. That's not it, is it?  You're afraid you'll hurt 
*me*." He froze as Tom began moving away from him, head 
down, not meeting his eyes, following the wall until he bumped 
into a corner.  It startled a plaintive sound from him.

"Easy, it's all right," Harry whispered, not wanting to upset him, 
not wanting him to feel defensive.  He knelt, thinking that maybe 
it might help Tom feel better, if he wasn't towering over him. 
Tom immediately flattened to the floor, chin resting on his front 
paws as he looked at Harry quizzically.

Harry took a deep breath and pulled off one of his boots.  Tom's 
head shot up, but he remained on the floor. Harry tugged off the 
other one and undid his jacket, shrugging it off and setting it on 
top of his boots.  He was a little shaky but surprised he didn't 
feel more so.  He pulled his turtleneck off and Tom shot out of 
the corner to hide under the other biobed. 

Tom was starting to shake and part of him wondered why he 
was so panicked.  A rather large part of him wanted to get 
closer to the man on the floor, close enough to touch, lick, bite. 
Mate with.  He shivered again, fear coursing through him at that 
thought.  Why the unwillingness to do this?  Why deny what he 
needed, wanted so badly?  He didn't understand and he 
wavered, some small part of him not wanting to hurt this man, 
whose soft voice he knew.  He shook his head, growling to 
himself at the argument within him. Control vying with need, 
reason warring with instinct.  One thing he did know, he was 
deathly afraid of hurting this two-legged one.  And that must not 
be allowed to happen.

Harry had jumped a little at the speed with which Tom moved, 
swallowing heavily, but simply turned to face his friend.  "Maybe 
part of you is still aware enough that you know why I'm here, 
and what I'm doing.  I don't think there's another option, Tom.  I 
know the risks and I'm willing to take them.  You'd do the same 
for me, I know you would, if it was the only way."

Harry tossed his turtleneck onto the growing pile and undid the 
slacks, shimmying out of them, getting rid of the socks at the 
same time.  Still in his shorts, he crawled slowly toward Tom, 
trying not to spook him, and halted when he heard a warning 
growl.  "Shh, easy.  It's okay.  It's just me. It's Harry.  Tom, it's 
okay.  Trust me," he whispered, reaching out a hand to gently 
touch a softly-furred side.  "Oh, gods," he said, feeling Tom 
shaking under his hand.  It wasn't fear, he knew that.  It was 
Tom fighting for control, fighting his instincts, fighting what Harry 
intended for him to do.  He buried his fingers in the golden fur 
and Tom hesitantly inched his way closer to him.  "That's it," 
Harry crooned, moving his hand over Tom's head as he came 
nearer, to lay his head on Harry's thigh, closing his eyes tightly. 
Harry heard soft, distressed sounds coming from his friend and 
hastened to reassure him. "It's all right.  It is.  I swear.  It'll be 
okay, Tom."  

Tom got slowly up, still shaky on four legs, and placed a careful 
paw on Harry's arm, just batting him a time or two.  Harry 
moved his hands around the ears and chuckled as they rotated 
like deflector dishes.  Tom's eyes closed in ecstatic delight and 
he growled, softly.  He quivered once, then looked Harry straight 
in the eye and opened his mouth, heading for Harry's bare 
shoulder.

Harry took a deep breath and wrapped one arm around Tom's 
body as those incredibly sharp teeth closed lightly over his skin, 
without breaking it.  Tom shook and made as if to move away, 
but Harry hung on, holding his head right where it was.  The 
anguished roar that came from Tom's throat shocked him, 
making him jump, before Tom pushed Harry back until he lay on 
the floor and straddled him. A rough tongue swiped at his neck 
once, then again, and Harry closed his eyes, murmuring quiet 
encouragement.

"That's it.  Go ahead.  Come on, Tom," he whispered, then 
chuckled, wryly.  "I can't believe I'm saying this but, bite me, 
already."

Harry felt a soft, wet touch on his shoulder and shook with the 
tremors going through Tom, who tried to step away, but Harry 
clung to him, tenaciously.

"You're not going anywhere.  It's okay.  Do it.  Go on, Tom.  You 
have to.  It'll be okay," he said firmly and sighed as warm, rapid 
breaths fanned his ear.  He stroked Tom's head, pushing him 
towards his shoulder again and felt those sharp teeth just barely 
close around him. He held Tom tightly, maybe too tightly, but his 
friend didn't struggle.  A slight clenching of Tom's jaw was all it 
took for the teeth to pierce Harry's skin.  Harry drew a quick 
breath, trying not to flinch, and shut his eyes, just letting it 
happen, as easily as it could.  

Tom slowly moved his head from side to side, just a fraction, 
worrying Harry's shoulder.  Harry knew he was being as gentle 
as he could be and the slight, sharp pain was already growing 
warm.  Wrapping his arms around Tom, he simply held on as 
the minutes passed and tried to relax.  He found his own 
breathing speeding up, noticed his hands shaking as they ran 
through the soft fur covering his friend.  He was becoming 
lightheaded and was glad he was lying down, then remembered 
that Tom had pushed him down and he sighed silently, grateful.

A musky odor filled his nostrils and he blinked as the room 
seemed to grow brighter, realizing his sensitivity was increasing 
with every passing moment. Tom had pulled back and was 
licking the slight amount of blood away, but Harry was nearly 
oblivious.  He tried to speak and startled himself at his own faint 
growl.  It was enough to bring Tom's head up, before the golden 
head dipped and Harry felt a warm, wet presence on his chest, 
leaving faint whorls in the ever-increasing amount of black . . 
fur? Oh, gods.  Warmth and wetness continued a rapid path, 
until teeth connected in the waistband of his shorts and 
shredded them, tearing them off his body and flinging them 
aside with a toss of a furry head.

Harry felt vaguely uncomfortable on his back and rolled to his 
side, sighing with relief as the pressure eased on his . . tail. 
Tom's tongue found his ears to be of interest and it tickled, 
slightly, as he softly batted Tom's head from its task with his . . 
paw.  A rather pleasant warmth was flowing through him and he 
found himself filled with restlessness, needing to move, explore, 
revel.  He felt good, strong, and heard himself roar with delight. 
Tom quickly pounced on him and he recalled the reason for his 
transformation.  He met his friend's familiar blue eyes and let his 
own tongue explore the long whiskers beneath them.  He blazed 
a trail around one eye and across one ear and Tom growled, 
softly.  To Harry, it sounded faintly like a moan and he grinned, 
baring his teeth before realizing that Tom might take it as a 
hostile act in his current state.  That that wasn't the case 
became apparent as Tom's eyes closed, a look of rapture 
crossing his feline features.

Harry could still feel the golden-furred body trembling, although 
it seemed to be a little less intense, less desperate, than it was 
a moment ago.  Tom crouched down next to him, letting Harry 
explore to his heart's content, until the quivering grew stronger 
and Harry backed off, then rose to try out all four legs.  It took a 
little effort and seemed to work better when he wasn't 
consciously thinking about it, but he got the hang of it.  The 
dizziness had faded, although the heat remained, and he felt 
himself growing oddly impatient.  He gently bit into Tom's leg 
and his friend shot upright, coming to stand next to him. Tom 
was just a little taller, maybe an inch, and sleeker in 
comparison.  Harry found him beautiful and opened his mouth 
to tell him so but all that emerged was a soft grumble.  He 
thought Tom might have understood; the golden tail twitched 
behind him. Harry was just beginning to wonder at the 
mechanics of what they needed to do, when Tom walked 
around him, licking his flank.  His back arched when the warm 
tongue began preparing him and his legs shook uncontrollably 
until a gentle paw rested on his back, calming him. 

Tom gently pushed him down into a crouch and Harry shivered 
when his underside touched the cool floor. Tom was right, it 
would be easier this way.  His friend walked over him, straddling 
him and Harry made himself relax.  Tom seemed to understand 
Harry's trepidation and moved forward to caress a black-furred 
ear with his tongue.  A loud rumble startled Harry, until he 
realized it was coming from him.  He purred, feeling totally 
content and Tom slid carefully inside him, softly growling.  

Harry thought he was groaning and hoped Tom wouldn't take 
his response the wrong way.  Tom was rocking gently into him 
and Harry gained a new respect for his friend's self-control.  He 
squirmed backward, only to be stopped by a soft, meaningful 
snarl.  He thought about that sound, for a moment, and 
squirmed again.  Yep, that snarl was a feline-flavored moan. He 
grinned when Tom began moving faster and harder and realized 
that he, himself, was as hard as he could get in his current form. 
He heard himself growl impatiently and Tom moved faster and 
Harry rocked backward, getting hotter at the soft sounds his 
friend, now lover, was making. That heat was a wonderful 
feeling and he panted, snarling, wanting more of it.  Fingers 
clenched into his arm and teeth bit him, again, in the same 
shoulder, not as gently this time and he roared softly, nowhere 
near as loud as he knew he could.  He felt Tom's arms start 
shaking, felt the incredibly fast heartbeat against his back and 
sank his own teeth into one freckled arm.  A firm hand wrapped 
itself around his own erection and he groaned, thrusting forward 
into it, then backward into Tom.  It didn't take long, after that.  
A harsh cry erupted out of Tom at the same time he erupted, 
filling Harry over and over, drawing Harry's breathtaking climax 
from him, before Tom slowed to a stop and sank down on top of 
him. 

Harry stretched his legs out behind him, easing the cramped 
feeling considerably, and his arms in front of him, flexing the 
fingers.  Wait a minute. Fingers?  He looked puzzled, seeing his 
own flesh, not covered in fur, before him. It had happened, 
hadn't it?  He shot a glance over his shoulder and saw Tom, 
flesh-made man, not the fur-made feline of moments ago.  
Harry grinned.  It had worked; Tom was human, again.

Tom slid off Harry's back with a groan and shocked his eyes 
open at the unanimal sound, as he came to rest next to his 
friend.  Peering at Harry in the dimness of sickbay, he looked 
them both over.  Naked and human. He groaned again, 
covering his eyes with his hand.  Hand, not paw.  

"Oh, Harry," he said softly, his voice still about an octave lower 
than he remembered it being.  "Why?"

Harry explained quietly about his eyes and holographic images. 
And reminded him about his lifespan, in feline mode.  

"Decades, maybe centuries, and you would've been trapped. 
Not to mention the possible danger to the crew.  Which wouldn't 
have been your fault," he hastened to reassure, "but it might 
have prompted the Captain to leave you in isolation, or on 
another planet, for the rest of your life.  It would've been . . 
inhumane."

"I wouldn't have noticed, Harry, or cared," Tom sighed.

"Yes, you would've.  On some level, you would have been 
miserable.  And *I* would have noticed.  And cared," Harry said, 
softly, finding himself helpless to prevent his hand from 
reaching out and stroking the golden hair on Tom's head. 

Tom grinned sadly.  "And now you're condemned to a life like 
mine," he mourned, shaking his head.

Harry smiled at him. "Good thing I like raw meat," he shot back.

Tom laughed reluctantly, the sound much deeper and fuller than 
it had been.  "You'll like it even more, now," he retorted and both 
of them were laughing.

"And every so often, we'll lock ourselves in one of our quarters 
and mate like the animals we are," Harry brought up, fascinated 
by the blush that was stealing over his friend's now human 
features.

"And you're okay with that?" Tom asked, almost afraid of the 
answer.

"No," Harry said quietly, seeing Tom's eyes close as his face 
twisted into a pained grimace.  "I'd like it to be more often and 
out of fur, once in a while, but that's just me," he finished, 
grinning as Tom's eyes shot open.

"Oh, you're kidding me," Tom came onto his side, looking down 
at Harry, who was shaking his head.

"No, I'm not.  Think about it.  We are the only two of our kind in 
the universe and we're perfect for each other.  You're my best 
friend and I love you.  Depending on how much time we spend 
in full fur, we'll probably outlive Tuvok.  It could be centuries.  I 
want to spend them with you, as friend, as lover.  As mate," he 
finished softly, forcing himself to meet Tom's stunned look, 
before the look faded, growing tender, lit by a wondrous smile.

"You are going to get so sick of me," Tom said, grinning as he 
shook his head at the change in his luck.

"It's a chance I'm willing to take," Harry answered dryly, as 
Tom's lips touched his, making him growl.

Tom pulled away.  "Just checking," he replied to Harry's silent 
query, as he trailed a finger over the rapidly healing wound on 
his lover's bare shoulder.  "Still human," he grinned, foolishly, 
turning the word 'lover' over and over in his mind.  Yep, he could 
get used to that, all right.  Further thought was rendered 
impossible as warm lips met his and he sighed.  A hot tongue 
licked his ear and he groaned, wrapping himself around Harry, 
who settled gently on top of him. Suddenly, all contact ceased 
and he opened his eyes, blearily, to gaze at Harry, who was 
actually pouting.  Gods, he was adorable.

"What, no purr?" Harry asked peevishly, grinning at Tom's 
laugh.

"No fur," Tom reminded him, enfolding Harry within his embrace 
again, just holding him.  He sobered and Harry, sensing the 
change in mood, remained quiet, snuggling into the warmth 
found there, with Tom.  A faint whisper reached his ears.

"I could fall so hard for you, Harry.  Oh, who am I kidding?  Part 
of me already has," Tom said, with no regrets.  Only delight.

"Go ahead and fall," Harry said softly.  "I'll catch you," and he 
raised his eyes to Tom's.

Tom opened his mouth to respond when a sudden shudder 
rocked the ship, bringing them both to their feet. He tossed a 
robe to Harry, who caught it, a startled look on his face.

"What, we're wearing *these* to the bridge?" he asked 
incredulously.

"We'll be wearing fur by the time the 'lift doors open," Tom 
explained hurriedly.  "I bet I know who they are, out there.  And 
if you think about, so do you."

Harry's eyes widened as he realized his friend was right.  How 
he knew was a mystery, but he *did* know.  He shook his head 
at the various images crowding his mind, remembered snatches 
of conversation with Pah'lil, that he had never had. The wealth 
of information available to him was staggering, millennia worth. 
He took a deep breath and met Tom's understanding look.

"Welcome to the pride," Tom said softly, dropping a quick kiss 
on Harry's lips before they left sickbay at a run, ignoring some 
of the wide-eyed looks they were getting and the smiles at 
seeing Tom back in human form again.

On the bridge, Janeway wasn't happy. Pirates.  In this day and 
age.  Only in the Delta Quadrant, she thought wryly, as she 
glared at the being on the viewscreen.

"Captain, it would be wise to surrender, quietly," Li'bek, the 
leader of the other ship warned, all but rubbing his greedy 
hands together.  "You carry no marking of protection and ours is 
not the only ship in this sector.  Merely the most fortunate," he 
smiled wickedly, licking his lips.

Janeway was about to make a less-than-diplomatic reply, when 
the turbolift doors opened and two huge felines, one gold and 
one black, bounded onto the bridge.  *Two*?  She took a closer 
look at the black one and familiar brown eyes looked back at 
her. Oh, Harry.

Tom stopped by her chair, while Harry headed over to sit next to 
Chakotay's feet. Tom looked up at the viewscreen and roared 
indignantly, making Janeway flinch. Her reaction was nothing 
compared to Li'bek's, whose skin had paled several shades of 
green lighter.  He looked terrified.

"M-my apologies, C-captain," he choked out.  "I did not realize 
you served the Ki'gali," he grew even paler when Harry growled 
at the sound of his voice.

Chakotay, unthinking, began petting Harry, fingers scratching 
under the ebony-furred chin, as he murmured softly, soothing 
the agitated feline.  Janeway and Tuvok shared a raised 
eyebrow, before their attention was commanded by Li'bek.

"It will be our great honor to provide you with escort through this 
space, Captain," Li'bek stated reverently.  "No further 
communication will be necessary, unless they desire it," he 
nodded to Tom and Harry.  "We will make certain no one 
interferes with you and your ship.  And we will be happy to send 
you all the information we possess, about the planets in this 
sector.  Including several where they may . . hunt," he finished, 
looking rather yellow with nausea.

"Thank you, Li'bek," Janeway said graciously, about to extend 
her appreciation when he cut her off, abruptly.

"There is no need for thanks, Captain.  It is their due," and with 
that, he terminated communications.

Janeway heard a not-so-subtle throat-clearing behind her. 
Tuvok.  She focused on what she was doing and found her 
fingers lightly scratching Tom's cheek, his head resting on her 
thigh, eyes closed in sublime delight as she stroked his ears 
and rubbed the top of his head.  She glanced over at Chakotay 
and grinned.  Harry was resting his front paws on Chakotay's 
lap and they were nearly nose to nose as the Commander 
scratched him roughly, muttering, "That's a good boy, yes, it is," 
with a huge smile on his face.

"Commander," she said gently, barely getting his attention. 
Apparently her own attentions had slowed and Tom protested, 
compelling her take his face in her hands and scratch his chin 
and neck.

Chakotay looked up and grinned at her. 

"That's Harry," she reminded him, quietly, nodding at the large 
black panther-size cat in his arms.  

Chakotay nodded.  "And *that's* Tom," he replied, looking at her 
with a 'who are you to talk' expression on his face.  She glanced 
down, to find Tom's head in her own lap, both hands firmly 
lavishing attention on him, and sighed.  

"Hard to resist, aren't they?" Chakotay asked, laughing.

"They're not pets, they're Starfleet officers," Janeway protested, 
smiling despite her best intentions, when Tom purred.  Oh, 
heavens.

Tuvok spoke up.  "Captain, it may be wise for them to remain 
where they are, until we have left this sector of space.  Their 
presence seems to provide some guarantee of protection," he 
said, reasonably.

"Assuming they can control it, can we make them *understand* 
that?"  Chakotay asked, looking at Harry's eyes for some 
indication of the intelligent young man he knew.  Harry mrrrowed 
at him, cocking his head.  The Commander looked over at 
Janeway, startled.

The Captain met Tom's blue eyes, exactly like his human ones, 
save for the iris.  "Do you understand?" she asked softly, hoping 
against hope. Her own eyes widened as he nodded, right before 
he winked at her. She almost gasped.  "You're not trapped, 
anymore, are you?" she whispered, eyes briefly closing in relief 
when he shook his head.  "How?" she asked, trailing off as she 
looked over at Harry's feline form.  "Mated?" she whispered, so 
only Tom could hear. He ducked his head and she knew he'd be 
blushing, had he been human. He only nodded, slowly.  

Janeway nodded, feeling helplessly grateful that Harry had 
taken matters into his own hands. Paws.  Whatever.  "And you 
can both change at will?" she queried, making sure, as Tom 
raised his head again and nodded.  "Are you two all right?" she 
asked, fumbling for the right words to ask what she wanted to. 
"Your friendship?"

Harry must have heard, because he backed off Chakotay's lap 
and walked over to stand next to Tom, looking at him with 
obvious concern and something else Janeway couldn't quite put 
her finger on.  He made a soft, querying sound and Tom turned, 
swiping one black ear with a long lick of his tongue.  Harry 
started purring immediately, caressing Tom's cheek with his 
own, and realization dawned on Janeway's face. She looked up 
at Chakotay, his startled eyes meeting her own.  

"They're together?" he asked, quietly, watching the two of them, 
seemingly oblivious to everything except each other, at the 
moment.

"Apparently so," Janeway remarked.  "It makes perfect sense 
for them to pair off," she acknowledged.

Harry sighed and dropped to the floor, yawning.  It had been a 
long, tiring day.  Tom stepped carefully over him and eased 
himself down next to his mate, head resting on one of Harry's 
paws, as Harry's rested on the other.  His eyes closed, when 
Harry licked his nose, before he settled in to sleep, content.


                 <<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


People gradually got used to seeing the two of them together, in 
fur and out of it.  And they spent much more time in it, except 
when they were on duty, the lure of near-immortality impossible 
to resist. 

Janeway had no objections.  When she needed her human 
officers, she had them.  She went out of her way to 
accommodate them, as best she could, but they made few 
demands on or of her. Their request to share quarters was 
easily done and when they needed time alone together, as 
happened on occasion, all they had to do was ask Chakotay. 

People had gotten used to them coming into the mess hall for 
dinner and Neelix was always delighted to see them.  They 
usually ate after most everyone else was done and gone, 
devouring the raw leftover meat, but B'Elanna was there, most 
of the time, or the Captain, or Chakotay.

They had become the unofficial mascots of Voyager and most 
people seemed to forget they were still at least half-human, 
even if they were in fur most of the time.  They tried to avoid it 
on the bridge, when at all possible, but every few weeks, 
changing to their human forms became difficult and nearly 
impossible to maintain.  The Doctor explained it as being a 
normal part of the mating cycle and it only lasted three or four 
days, so the rest of the crew adjusted to it.

Janeway still welcomed them on the bridge during this time and 
they sat in on staff meetings, just as they would have had they 
been human. More times than Chakotay could count, one or 
both feline heads would end up in his lap, or B'Elanna's, or one 
in each, and they would find themselves talking ship's business 
while doling out head rubs and ear scratches.  Only in the backs 
of their minds existed the fact that these cats weren't, exactly, 
cats.  No one said anything and it simply became the norm.

Other adjustments were easily made. The controls in their 
quarters were reconfigured so that they could be accessed 
while Tom and Harry were in feline form and the replicators 
were lowered for easier reach, programmed to provide nothing 
but raw meat and water.

The Commander had authorized some slight alterations be 
made to their uniforms, just to make them easier to get out of, 
when they had to.  It was either that, or constantly replace the 
shredded ones.  

Things had changed but Janeway was more than willing to go 
along with them as long as they could still perform their duties. 
And they were actually better at them, now.  Reaction times 
were faster, Harry's sharp eyes read sensor reports at lightning 
speed, Tom's flying was more brilliant than ever, and one or the 
other of them were almost always picked for away missions. 
Federation technology couldn't compete with their senses and 
instincts.  They knew when people were lying, spotted traps a 
light-year away, and could tell when someone genuinely needed 
their help. 

The Captain couldn't have been more pleased.  Even to the 
extent of stopping at one planet or another, to let the two of 
them off to hunt, run, whatever.  The holodecks were all but 
useless to them, now.  Both of their eyesight had improved so 
much that they couldn't use them, in full fur.  So, whenever 
Voyager stopped by an uninhabited planet to pick up foodstuffs, 
Tom and Harry were turned loose.

Today was one such instance.  Tom was laying back, in the soft 
grass, watching the clouds roll by and letting dinner settle.  His 
fingers were lazily playing with Harry's black fur, as his mate 
sprawled across his chest, dozing in the dappled, near-dusk 
sunlight at the woods' edge.

He sighed, feeling wonderful.  And stuffed.  A slight breeze 
caressed his skin, making him shiver a little.  Their clothes were 
around here, somewhere, but he couldn't be bothered to move, 
right now.  He scratched Harry's ears and the large feline 
opened one eye at him.  "Hey, there, furry-face," Tom teased, 
seeing his lover's eyes roll, before a rather human-sounding 
snort came from him.  He laughed and it turned to a soft groan 
when Harry licked his chest, before that long, slow tongue 
worked its way steadily downward.

"Uh, Har?  What are you . . ohh, Harry," Tom breathed, feeling 
the hot wetness rasp against his skin.

Harry lay quietly, paws on Tom's thighs, claws carefully 
sheathed, and enjoyed his mate's response.  He licked Tom's 
stomach, paying particular attention to his navel and headed 
downward, wrapping his tongue around Tom's hardness.

"Har?  This is a little weird," Tom protested half-heartedly.  "I 
mean, I know you're still you and . . oh, sweet heaven, Harry. 
Don't stop.  Damn, don't listen to me. Ah, Kitten, please . ." and 
it stopped.  

Tom's head came up to find Harry glaring at him. "All right, I'll try 
and quit calling you that.  I promise I will.  Later," he sighed, as 
Harry continued his ministrations until Tom was a wreck 
beneath him. 

'Kitten', indeed.  So what if he was younger?  'Baby' was bad 
enough, but 'Kitten'?  Argh.  He snarled softly and Tom writhed 
under him. He lapped gently at Tom's weeping cock until his 
lover was arching beneath him, fingers clutching at his fur.  He 
made as if to turn Tom over onto his stomach, but the man 
resisted, looking incredibly aroused, yet slightly uncomfortable. 
He sighed.  Tom apparently wasn't ready for that kind of sex, 
yet.  Harry had barely finished the thought, when Tom rolled 
over on his own, stretching his arms out in front of him, before 
turning his head to face Harry.

Tom nodded at Harry's raised eyebrow.  "Sorry about that," he 
apologized quietly.  "I know it's no different than when we 
spontaneously change in the middle of having sex and the gods 
know, we've done *that* often enough," he paused, when Harry 
lay down next to him, looking at him thoughtfully, lovingly 
swiping his shoulder with long strokes of his tongue.

Harry locked his mouth around Tom's arm and tugged.  Tom's 
eyes widened.

"You want me to . . are you sure?" he asked, not too certain, 
himself.  At Harry's nod, he moved back and straddled his mate, 
feeling silky fur caress the insides of his thighs.  Harry's tail 
switched past his back, making him gasp.  Strange as it felt, he 
was getting hotter by the minute. As much as he wanted to, he 
knew Harry wanted it more and he leaned forward, teeth tugging 
on one black-furred ear.

"No," he said quietly, feeling Harry's disappointed sigh leave his 
body.  "*You* do it," he grinned as his lover's head whipped 
around, nailing him with a look, before inching forward, letting 
that wonderful fur move along his body.

He lay down again, opening his legs when he felt Harry carefully 
step between them.  A hot tongue caressed him intimately and 
he gasped, fingers digging into the grass below him. Claws 
gently scraped down his back, barely enough to leave marks, 
thin, red trails, behind them.  Tom was so distracted by the 
slight sting, he barely noticed Harry's tongue enter him. When 
he did, his groan brought a furry, black head up, rather quickly, 
til Harry realized all was well and continued.  Harry moved 
forward, legs on either side of his mate's body and slowly, 
gently, pushed inside him, backing out a little, before doing it 
again.

Tom's heartrate skyrocketed and his breathing sped up, as 
Harry thrust into him. His mind was trying to tell him that a very 
large feline was fucking him but his body knew it was Harry and 
his heart was overjoyed.  Gods, it felt wonderful!

Harry knew his own pulse was increasing and he took Tom a 
little harder, faster, before his lover rocked backward into him, 
groaning.  He felt his legs shaking and knew he was close.  He 
nipped lightly at Tom's shoulder, laved the mark with his tongue, 
then whipped it around his lover's neck, nuzzling one ear.  A 
strangely familiar scent was rising from Tom's body, but he 
didn't slow down.  He grinned, felt the same heat begin to warm 
him and growled.  The sound made Tom tremble and the 
vibration hummed along his own fire-filled veins.  He saw his 
limbs begin to change and watched in awe as the 
transformation hit Tom.  

They passed by each other, both on the way to the other's 
location, and for an instant they were both man and cat, loving, 
and being loved by, another exactly like them.  The only other 
exactly like them.  Harry's growl became a groan midway 
through the sound and he moved faster, shivering as the breeze 
swept over his heated skin.  He dug his fingers into Tom's fur, 
gasping as he rode his mate harder, feeling the shaking 
overtake them both.  Tom arched under him, harsh sounds 
driving Harry to completion, and Tom's feline roar answered his 
own human one.  Fire flowed through him, lighting his nerves 
like a fuse and he felt the explosion come upon him. He cried 
out as he emptied himself into his lover's body then lay his 
cheek on a warm, furry back, resting briefly, before he slid 
bonelessly off of Tom into a panting heap at his side.

Tom turned his head to lick the cooling sweat from Harry's body 
and his lover wrapped shaking arms around him, pulling him 
closer for warmth and comfort.

Harry smiled softly, snuggling into golden fur, as Tom lay down 
on top of him, nose rubbing his own.  He brought a hand up to 
trace the whiskers with a finger, the tips of his ears, which 
twitched under the tickle-caress, and his cheek, before Tom lay 
on his chest and listened to his mate's quieting heartbeat 
drumming in his ears.

Tom sighed in sweet contentment as a soft whisper caught his 
attention.

"I love you, Tomcat," Harry's deep voice fueled the warmth 
flying through his lover's blood.

Harry's hand felt fur vanish, become glowing skin, as Tom's own 
low voice was heard.  "I love you, too, Kitten," Tom said, 
sounding serious until Harry pulled back to meet blue, smiling 
eyes.

"Tom!" Harry said with familiar indignation.

"Well, I *do*," Tom replied, trying not to grin, failing and rolling 
them both over, laughing, until Harry was on top.

Harry growled and Tom's eyes met beautiful dark brown, the 
changing black iris barely visible against the warm, rich 
chocolate.

Tom felt the tremor pass rapidly through his mate and found 
himself nose to nose with a very large, annoyed, black feline. 
He smiled fondly, scratching Harry's ears till the rumblings filled 
his own.

"Point taken, purr-beast," he said quietly as heavy-lidded eyes 
tried to open up and look at him but only one was successful. 
"Harry," Tom whispered, until both eyes were open and both 
ears facing forward.  He sighed, smiling sleepily.  "I really do 
love you, you know."

Harry nodded, paw batting lightly at Tom's nose, til his love 
chuckled, grabbed it and held it to his chest.  Harry's head 
followed, eyes closing again, as Tom's arms came around him, 
holding him gently as sleep claimed them both.


************************************end