Disclaimer time once again!  Twenty-fourth 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, aka: slash.  If that 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.  :) Okay, guess what lucky slash slut got to write the C/P backstory to Yvette Kendall's Tuvok/Kim series?  Awww, you guessed! This is the prequel to the C/P relationship she mentions in her wonderful series.  All the angst, pain, grief, suffering, etc, that happens later, I will be writing about in concert with Yvette. 'Outrageous' by Amirin ************************************ Tom sighed as he watched Chakotay watch the Captain.  This was becoming ridiculous.  He silently gazed into his mostly-empty glass and flashed a smile at Sandrine when she automatically filled it for him.  He knew he could down synthehol til his shift began, and still have no ill effects afterward. Tom glared at the ice in his drink, as if it was responsible for the foulness of his mood.  If he had to watch Chakotay sniffing after Janeway's heels one more night . . . He glanced up, sensing movement out of the corner of his eye. Tom thought as the Commander slid into the seat next to him. "Commander," Tom acknowledged, exhaling lightly, careful to keep his thoughts off his face. "Paris," Chakotay murmured, flashing a smile at Sandrine as she placed his drink in front of him. Tom took a swallow of his own and nearly choked on it, his eyes shooting up to meet the bartender's, which were sparkling at him mischievously.  Damn, she'd given him the *real* stuff.  He thought about acting as if he'd been drinking it all along.  A man could speak his mind, drunk, in a way he never could, sober, and be forgiven for damned near anything that came out of it. "Ya know what your problem is, Chakotay?" he asked, looking around the nearly-deserted bar as if he was about to impart the Secret of the Universe. The Commander looked startled, then tolerant, obviously figuring Tom was more than slightly intoxicated. "No, Paris, what is my problem?" he asked, humoring the man next to him. "You're tryin' too hard," Tom said, gesturing with his glass, but careful not to slosh the whiskey everywhere.   Chakotay looked at him, wondering just how drunk the man really was and took in the flushed face and overly-bright eyes. Yep, *really* drunk. Tom could feel his face flaming as he pushed ahead.  Even with the cushion of alcohol to fall back on, this was still hard as hell. "You and the Captain are not going to happen, so ya might as well face it,"  Tom said slowly, looking into his glass so he wouldn't have to meet Chakotay's eyes.  "She doesn't see you as a possible romantic entanglement; you've been her First Officer for too long.  And as long as she knows you're waiting for her, she's not about to do anything to encourage you.  You know how women are," Tom said, jabbing Chakotay with his elbow.  "As long as she knows she's got you, she's not going to want you." Chakotay didn't bother to deny the pilot's observations; he wouldn't have been believed, anyway.  Besides, Paris spoke like a man who'd been there.  Maybe he could help, if he would.  He seemed to be offering, in an inebriated fashion, to do just that. Chakotay glanced around the bar, but they were the only flesh-and-blood beings in there, at the moment. No one to witness the inconceivable, him asking Tom Paris for advice on his nonexistent lovelife. "What would you suggest?" Chakotay inquired quietly. "Make her think she hasn't *got* you anymore," Tom whispered back after checking out the bar's patrons for himself.  "Start something up with someone else, someone totally different from her." Chakotay sighed.  Not a bad idea, but the consequences could be a disaster.  "How would you suggest I do that without angering the 'someone else', when the Captain comes around and it's over?" "Get someone who'd be interested just for the fun of it, but who could make it look real enough to *really* bother her," Tom answered, taking another deep swallow of his drink. "Like who?" Chakotay asked, mentally reviewing the crew roster. "Like me," Tom said softly, grinning. Chakotay inhaled sharply.  "You?" he asked, trying not to sound as incredulous as he was feeling. "Yeah, sure, why the hell not?" Tom asked cheerfully, inwardly holding his breath.  "Most of the crew thinks we already have a past together, so it wouldn't be totally unbelievable.  And just think of the look on her face, when the gossip hits her," he snorted, turning to see Chakotay eyeing him speculatively. Chakotay ran a tired hand over his face.  It was so predictable, the old 'make 'em want you by making them jealous' routine.   But, it might knock Kathryn out of her complacency. "How far would you be willing to go with this?" Chakotay asked, turning to face Paris when it took more than a moment for him to answer. "All the way," Tom murmured, before leaning in and lightly kissing Chakotay.  The man started to pull back in surprise, but Tom had his quarry in range and phasers were locked on target. He wasn't about to let go. A soft, insistent tongue was slowly tracing Chakotay's lips and they parted, almost automatically, to allow Tom entrance.  The Commander felt the deck move beneath him and his hands clenched Tom's shoulders, just to keep himself on his barstool. Warm hands took his face between them, sliding around the back of his neck as the kiss impossibly deepened even more. His hands relaxed their grip on the pilot, and moved slowly down the other man's chest.  The harsh thud of the heart beating wildly under them brought Chakotay back to his surroundings and he gradually eased away, letting his fingers follow Tom's arms down to take his hands in his own. Tom swallowed heavily, licking his lips.  Damn.  He didn't realize he'd said it aloud until Chakotay grinned at him rather shakily. "Are you sure about this?" Chakotay asked in stunned wonderment. "If I wasn't before, I am now," Tom said in a rough voice, removing his hand from Chakotay's to grab the glass and take another swallow of his drink.  He intended to drain it, gods knew he felt like he needed it, but a warm hand on his own made him bring the glass back down. "Coffee," Chakotay requested, looking slightly puzzled at Sandrine's delighted smile, before two large cups were brought out to them. "I want to be certain you're going into this sober, Tom," Chakotay explained, moving the pilot's drink to his other side, out of reach. "I'm a lot more sober now, than I was a minute ago," Tom said quietly, carefully taking a sip of the hot coffee. "You really want to do this?" Chakotay confirmed, drinking some of his own  as Tom nodded thoughtfully.  "No strings attached, no commitments." "Convenience, pleasure, mutual gratification," Tom said, as though reciting a well-rehearsed script, before meeting Chakotay's startled eyes. "You want this to be private as well as public?" Chakotay asked, thinking of the ramifications. "If it's all for show, where the hell's the fun in that?" Tom countered, grinning, though his gut was in knots.  "Besides, it's gotta be believable, or she's gonna know it.  She'll see right through us, if I can't get a reaction out of you just by walking into a room and meeting your eyes.  A long shared look, a slight, secret smile, like I know something she doesn't.  Which I will," he finished smoothly, looking at the Commander over the rim of his cup. Chakotay chuckled in spite of himself.  "You are outrageous, Tom." "That can be one of the many things you love about me," Tom said, winking, forcing a laugh out of the Commander.  He sighed quietly as something melted within him at that laugh but he kept the smile on his face. "How fast do you want to do this?" Tom asked, pulling his thoughts out of deep space. "What would be most comfortable for you?" Chakotay volleyed the question neatly back to him. "Unh uh, Chakotay, this is *your* show.  You tell me how you want it done,"  Tom tossed it back into the Commander's lap. "Do you want to fall for me slowly, or have it be a done deal by morning?" he asked casually, though the maelstrom in his head was anything but. "Slowly," Chakotay finally answered quietly, looking cautiously at Tom as though expecting his mockery, only to find him nodding in agreement. "I want to walk you back to your quarters and kiss you goodnight, meet you for breakfast tomorrow, have dinner in my quarters, and go dancing back here tomorrow evening," Chakotay said thoughtfully. "Will you let me lead?" Tom asked, grinning, a bit stunned that the Commander had scripted out the next twenty-four hours of their 'relationship'. "Will you wear that black silk shirt of yours?" Chakotay asked impishly, fingers beginning to stroke the hairs on the back of Tom's hand. Tom swallowed audibly, wishing his drink was in reach.  Damn, the man was *flirting* with him. That black shirt was cut open nearly to his waist and was one of the more revealing things he owned.  He was shocked the other man had even *noticed* it. "Absolutely," Tom replied softly, his own hand slowly raising to trace a dark eyebrow.  "I want you in the shirred cream one," he said, thinking   "You like that shirt?" Chakotay asked as though amazed.  He'd replicated it to capture Kathryn's notice and hadn't worn it but the once, stashing it in the back of his closet when it hadn't gotten the reaction he'd been hoping for. Tom just nodded, humming an "Hmm hm" at him. Actually, he *loved* that shirt; the color was perfect for the Commander and the fabric was impossible not to touch. "Done," Chakotay agreed.  "May I escort you to your quarters, Tom?" he asked, sliding off his stool to stand in front of the pilot. "I'd be delighted, Chakotay," Tom answered, enjoying the role too much to fret at the fiction of it.  He got off his own stool and let Chakotay put his arm around his waist.  They took a few steps together and he paused when the Commander stopped, suddenly, removing his arm, leaving him bereft. "Too soon," he muttered, glancing up at Tom. Tom thought, as they walked out of Sandrine's, shoulder to shoulder, going very slowly, strolling, almost, getting more than one doubletake from the odd member of the crew still out and about at the late hour. They stopped in front of the doors to Tom's quarters, Tom leaning his shoulder with studied casualness against the bulkhead, Chakotay standing right in front of him, mirroring his pose.  Tom rested a hand on Chakotay's strong shoulder and grinned at the man as he played with the collar, touching the Commander's neck and ear with a finger every so often. Chakotay lay a hand on Tom's arm, lazily drawing it up and down the muscle. Neither felt the need to speak, so they didn't, just stood silently and grinned at each other.  It was only when Chakotay noticed Lieutenant Ciscio walk by for the third time that he thought maybe they should call it a night.  His hand went up to cradle Tom's cheek, thumb caressing the cheekbone and he sighed as Tom followed his lead, fingertips sliding through the hair at his temple, before that gentle, hot mouth claimed his own. Tom fought the urge to take the man into his arms, that would come later.  He eased away and waited for Chakotay's eyes to open. "Two behind you," he murmured against Chakotay's mouth as he kissed him again, sweetly and softly. "And three more behind you," the Commander replied, returning the kiss, amusement coloring his voice as they warned each other of the crewmembers getting an eyeful at opposite ends of the corridor.  "Goodnight, Tom," Chakotay murmured, taking Tom's hand from his face and giving it a squeeze. Tom followed suit, but kissed Chakotay's wrist before letting him have his hand back.  "Goodnight, Chakotay," he replied quietly, swinging away from the wall to trip the sensors of his door.  He stood there a moment, long enough to trade smiles with the Commander, before entering his quarters, sighing with contented delight.  The evening had gone perfectly. Chakotay smiled hugely as he headed down the corridor, ignoring the looks and barely whispered comments.  Everything seemed to be going according to plan.  This promised to be a hell of a lot of fun, for as long as it lasted.  Not once did it occur to him to wonder exactly what Tom was getting out of their arrangement.                       <<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>> Janeway sat in quiet solitude in the mess hall, letting the conversation ebb and flow around her, as she studied the padd in her hand.  The tide of voices made a soothing background noise and she ate silently as she finished her reading of Chakotay's crew reports.  She had found them waiting for her on her console that morning, even though they weren't due until the next day.  The Captain frowned a little; they were unusually formal, abrupt in places, and carried none of the light humor she'd come to expect from her First Officer. The sudden absence of noise broke through her concentration and she looked up, seeing nearly everyone's attention aimed at the door.  Curious, she turned, only to see Chakotay enter, a rare smile touching his features.  She sat back in her chair, and watched as the thrum of conversation grew louder, even though no one's eyes had moved from the door.  Janeway stood and walked briskly over to where the Commander was going through the line. "Captain," Chakotay acknowledged, returning her greeting, before studying the breakfast choices with a slight frown between his eyes. Janeway gestured with the padd still in her hand, capturing his attention, again. "This wasn't due til tomorrow, if there's anything you need to add," she said, wondering if the odd tone was due to a hurriedly prepared report. Chakotay shook his head, one of those fly-by-night smiles hitting his face. "No, I'm finished.  I just wanted to get it done early.  I knew I wasn't going to have time tonight," he said offhandedly, helping himself to a few things that looked good, while grinning inwardly all the time.  She'd noticed the change, he thought delightedly.  His brief study of Tuvok's emotionless reports had certainly paid off.  He'd modeled the one in her hand after those. Janeway frowned, knowing Chakotay wasn't working on ship's business, when the noise vanished again and she looked toward the door, seeing Tom Paris enter and head directly for them.  She waited for the talking to resume, but only silence filled the room, an anticipatory silence, at that. Chakotay's reaction to her simple "Good morning, Lieutenant" was instantaneous and electric and she stared dumbfounded at the knowing smiles they exchanged, before her mask of command was firmly in place, once again. Chakotay turned to completely face Tom, his body language effectively cutting Janeway out of the circle. "Good morning," he said softly, grin widening as Tom's echoed his own. "'Morning," Tom purred, taking a tray for himself, before a slight pout clouded the beaming smile.  "You got the last of that, didn't you?" he asked teasingly, nodding towards an empty tray of heaven-only-knew-what, while taking some fruit and rolls. "I'd be glad to share," Chakotay offered, moving closer to the pilot, who nodded before cocking his head. "Where are you sitting?" Tom asked quietly, but not *too* quietly, knowing most of the room was straining to hear them. "How about over there?" Chakotay indicated the far wall with a nod.  "Quiet, private," he added softly, grin getting even bigger as Janeway's head whipped around. "Perfect," Tom answered, motioning the Commander to go first. "Lead the way." Janeway watched as Tom's eyes raked over Chakotay, saw the smile change into a leer, before the pilot licked his lips and sighed. "See you on the bridge, Captain," Tom said distractedly, as he followed Chakotay over to their table and set his tray down, taking a seat. Janeway debated heading back to her own table; everyone in the room was watching her pilot and First Officer.  And they weren't being too subtle about it, either.  The Captain sighed, knowing she had to get to the bridge, and grumbled as duty won out over curiosity.  She spared them one last glance before she left the room, wondering if what was going on was really what it *looked* like and not knowing how she felt about it, if it was. Back at the table, Tom smiled at Chakotay and began eating. "I could feel your eyes on me until I sat down," Chakotay challenged quietly, digging into his own breakfast. "Just admiring the view," Tom tossed back lightly, laughing as Chakotay's head shot up in surprise.  He didn't have to turn to know that damned near every eye in the room was on them. Tom reached forward with his fork to sample some of Chakotay's breakfast, but had a hard time getting it to stay on the tines. "Let me," Chakotay said, spearing some and offering it to Tom, whose eyes closed as his mouth did, slowly drawing the food off the fork. "Outrageous," Chakotay murmured as Tom reached for his glass to wash it down. Chakotay chuckled when Tom smiled, one dark hand held up to ward off any of the pilot's smart comments.  "I know, I know.  It's one of the things I love about you," he finished as a shadow fell over their table, making them both look up, right into the stunned eyes of the Chief Engineer. "B'Elanna," Tom recovered smoothly, indicating the empty chair next to him, "care to join us?" "No.  Thanks, Tom.  I really can't.  Right now," Torres sputtered, deciding to say what she'd come over to say and get the hell out of there. "Commander, I'll need to go over the duty roster with you sometime today, whenever it's convenient.  I'm going to need a few extra hands for a couple of days.  Nothing urgent, just some maintenance I'd thought I'd do while things are quiet," she assured him, seeing the worried frown crease his forehead. "Whoever you need, B'Elanna," Chakotay said, "just let me know." B'Elanna tried not to smirk as she watched the two of them glance back and forth at each other.  "Actually, I could use Tom's help with a few minor changes in Helm control," she said, knowing how much Paris hated to be away from his beloved Conn. Chakotay caught the glare Tom was about to throw B'Elanna and distracted him with a leg smoothly brushed against his own. "Any objections?" he asked Tom in a velvet voice, making B'Elanna blink.  Since when did Chakotay ask *Paris* what his preferences were? "What I need to do, I can do just as easily from the bridge," Tom replied, his voice as warm as Chakotay's had been.  "Where do *you* want me, Chakotay?" Chakotay shared Tom's devilish smile for a moment, then turned to B'Elanna.  "Sorry, Torres," he said, the tone of his voice anything but sorry, "I need Tom on the bridge; he'll take care it from there." B'Elanna glared at them both for a minute, then shrugged, tossing her head.  "Fine," she bit off, "I'll talk to you about the rest of it, later, then."  And with that, she headed out of the mess hall, suspecting that her exit went completely unnoticed by either Tom or Chakotay. "That'll be all over Engineering in about, oh, three minutes," Tom said, trying, and failing, not to laugh. Chakotay joined him, attracting renewed notice.  "I can't help it if I want you with me all the time, Tom," he said just loud enough to be overheard by the tables around them, before ducking his head and finishing his breakfast. Tom smiled.  Perfect.  Just perfect.                      <<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Harry sat quietly during the morning briefing, only speaking when asked a direct question.  He had to admit it; he was confused as hell. B'Elanna had warned him that something *very* odd was going on with Tom and the Commander, but he'd been sure she was mistaken, if not exaggerating.  Seeing it for himself made him wonder when Tom and Chakotay's relationship had changed.  It seemed like it had happened since yesterday, but that couldn't be right.  He found himself grateful for the distraction, though, pleased that something took his mind off the Vulcan seated right next to him. The same Vulcan who had occupied a starring place in his thoughts for quite some time. Harry's eyes widened as Tom started slightly in his seat, before looking down under the table, slight smile growing significantly larger. Tom felt the warm hand on his thigh and damned near jumped out of his skin.  This was unexpected.  Subtle enough that the Captain couldn't call them on it, without looking under the table to see what their hands were doing, yet he knew Harry had seen something, and probably B'Elanna, too.  He scooted his chair closer to the table and Chakotay and caressed the dark hand with his fingertips, while leaning forward to block anyone's view. His breathing jerked when that hand started moving, just rubbing his leg slowly.  Tom knew his heartrate had just increased and fought to keep the rising flush off his face. Dammit, now Harry *had* to know something was going on and judging from the smirk on Torres' face, so did she. He tried to distract himself thinking of other things, but his heightened senses where registering heat and contact and he knew that in about another second, his face would be on fire. Chakotay managed to keep his attention on what the Captain was saying, and his grin under control, interested, yet impersonal, but it was threatening to take over.  The look on his own face changed when Tom wrapped his hand around his middle finger and started rhythmically stroking it against his leg, thumb caressing the tip in tiny circles.  He swallowed heavily as his cock hardened in sympathy for what Tom was doing to his finger. Tom's smile turned satisfied as Chakotay froze and he knew the heat was fading from his face.  Now it had gone to visit the Commander and he sat quietly, enjoying watching the other man's breathing speed up, the subtle shifts in his seat, all of it. Janeway noticed that the attention in the room had shifted from her to Tom and Chakotay, but couldn't put her finger on what was going on, there.  Fortunately, it wasn't a vital meeting.  She decided to break, for now, and couldn't have missed the relief on her First Officer's face at her dismissal, or the victorious grin on her pilot's. Chakotay rose carefully, using Tom's body as a shield to hide his own arousal.  Tuvok had left promptly, with nothing more than a raised eyebrow, but Harry and B'Elanna were still lingering, making their way slowly towards the door.  He steered Tom around the end of the table with a hand on his elbow and squeezed.  The timing was perfect and he could make sure Kathryn didn't hear him, while seeing to it that Kim and Torres did. "I'm going to get you for that, later," he murmured as the two of them walked by Harry and B'Elanna, ignoring the way their ears all but pricked up at his quiet comment. "I'm counting on it," Tom returned, his wicked grin bringing a faint flush to Chakotay's face. "Outrageous scoundrel," Chakotay said fondly, cocking his head at Tom's wide smile.  "I know, it's one of the things I love about you."  He got to enjoy the thrill of victory for himself when Tom blushed, trying not to laugh out loud. They headed out the door, Chakotay deliberately letting his hand slide down Tom's arm until their hands were clasped, for just a heartbeat, before letting him go and heading for his post, smile not leaving his face for a moment. Tom settled into his chair, still grinning.  Gods, the looks on Harry and B'Elanna's faces. Wonderful.  Public.  Perfect.  He knew Harry was going to waylay him sometime later, demanding details.  But, it would have to wait a couple of days, at least.  He sighed in contentment, wishing the day was done, so he and Chakotay could continue this.  It didn't matter that it wasn't real; he knew he could make the man enjoy it, regardless.  Both of them would.  His grin never faded as he went through the motions of doing his job, looking forward to the evening with great anticipation.                         <<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>> Chakotay had just finished setting the table for dinner when the doorchime sounded.  He headed over immediately to let Tom in, eyes widening in delighted surprise as he took in Tom's outfit for the evening.  The door had just closed behind the man, but Chakotay was still staring at him. "Is this okay?" Tom asked, arms held out slightly as he turned around for Chakotay's benefit.  He waited patiently for a moment, then stepped up to him, close enough to feel the other man's heat coming through his clothes. "Lose your tongue, Commander?" Tom inquired innocently, before his eyes turned devilish.  "Can I help you find it?" he breathed, arms going around Chakotay's neck as he tipped his head to kiss him, lightly.  He sighed into a groan as hands slid over his back, up to his shoulders.  Backing away just a bit, he smiled into the warm, slightly glazed eyes of the Commander. "You look incredible," he whispered, nuzzling the dark hair over Chakotay's ear, "Good enough to eat." Chakotay snorted in amusement, backing up to meet Tom's eyes.  "How about dinner, first?" he asked, leading Tom further into his quarters. "Wellll, if you insist," Tom drawled, letting Chakotay seat him. Soft music was playing, a light mix of flute and wood and he sighed, feeling the tension from holding himself back all day seep from his body.  The lit candles were a nice touch, but he moved them both aside so he could watch Chakotay bring their dinner over to the table. Chakotay stopped and placed Tom's plate in front of him, holding his eyes.  He set his own at his place and slid into his seat, next to Tom, at the small, round table.  He couldn't stop staring; the man looked amazing.  Black suede slacks, soft and comfortable, and that damned sueded silk shirt, in black to match . . Sweet Spirits.  Add a glowing smile, hair highlighted red-gold by the candles and soft, blue-grey eyes, and the combination was deadly, the effect, mesmerizing. "I'll bet you got more looks coming here dressed like that, than many a man would envy," he said in stillness, not really caring that he couldn't stop *looking* at him. "A few," Tom admitted, his insides turning somersaults at the compliment, before he felt a need to change the focus away from himself.  "But wait til they get a look at *you*," he said admiringly, laying a hand on Chakotay's sleeved arm, feeling it tense under his fingers as they ran over the fabric. He took his own time, looking at Chakotay, the shirred front of his soft, cream shirt accentuating his chest, cut deep, but not quite as deep as Tom's, as the shirring followed the 'V', pointing downward to the copper-colored belt around his waist, topping slacks in a somewhat lighter shade of copper. Chakotay smiled, feeling absurdly glad he hadn't gotten rid of the outfit, just because Kathryn hadn't paid him any mind when last he wore it.  "This is going to be *wonderful*," he said with quiet exuberance, lifting his glass in salute. Tom picked up his own and returned it.  "Yes, it is," he agreed softly, taking a swallow. Dinner was eaten slowly, but little was actually said.  The quiet company and delicious food were enjoyed immensely and they were both finished before they realized it. "You want dessert?" Chakotay asked, not having planned for it, but not wanting to leave just yet, either. Tom shook his head thoughtfully.  "Let's get something at Sandrine's and we can share," he suggested, eyes snapping with wicked delight.  Chakotay couldn't help but grin. "Sounds perfect," he acknowledged, sighing as he tossed his napkin on the table.  "Shall we?" "Let's," Tom said, taking Chakotay's offered hand and rising to his feet. Chakotay blew out the candles, noting by how far they'd burned down that dinner had taken longer than he'd expected.