********************************************************** Disclaimer time once again!  Sixtieth 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 love and relationships between two sets of 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.  :) 'Darkly' by Amirin ***************************************** Tom opened his eyes in sickbay and looked up into the beautiful brown eyes of his best friend. "Hey, Chak, miss me?" he grinned impishly, as he slowly levered himself upward, completely missing the startled look on the face of the Commander. He eased himself off the biobed and sighed.  Why the hell did he always end up in sickbay after taking a shuttlecraft out to explore heaven-knew-what? And, why was Chak in uniform? "What the hell are you doing in uniform, anyway?" Tom asked, puzzled, as he distractedly took stock of himself and realized that everything was present and accounted for, since he had lost consciousness out in the storm he'd been investigating.  "If Kathryn thinks she's going to get me back into one, ho boy, does she have another think coming. Besides, I thought 'Lann said it would be weeks, yet, before the replicators were up to speed enough to generate a hundred new ones.  Oh, well, maybe I can talk Kath out of it . . ." he trailed off as he met Chak's eyes.  "Or, better yet, maybe *you* can talk her out of it," he said with a gleam in his eye, winking at Chakotay and grinning again.  He looked beyond the man in front of him to see the Doc just behind looking, well, looking rather strangely at him, actually. "Hey, Zimm, don't worry, I feel fine.  And yes, if I notice anything odd, I'll get my ass right back down here, I promise. And if *I* don't, you know *Harry* will.  So," he finally wound down, clapping his hands together, "let's go.  I know Kathryn wants to hear all about my adventures exploring that miserable cloud."  Tom paused, looking a little closer at Chakotay, noticing his silence.   "Chak, you okay?" he asked seriously.  "Look, I swear I'm all right, really," the pilot said firmly, putting his arm around his friend's shoulders and steering him out of sickbay, oblivious to the Doctor beginning to say something, and the Commander cutting the comment off with a move of his hand.  Chakotay shook his head at the Holodoc and allowed Tom to lead him from the room and down the corridor to the turbolift. Chakotay was in no small amount of shock, looking at the man walking next to him. At first, he had planned to come down on Paris for being in civilian clothing, ignoring how good he looked in it, and for not wearing his commbadge on the flight into the gaseous plasma stormcloud the Captain had sent him to check out.  Now, his mind was whirling. What was going on with the Lieutenant?  His arm around him, like it belonged there?  And since when were they on a first name basis?  *Chak*?  And, calling the Captain, Kathryn?  Great Spirits, what was happening here? He entered the turbolift with Paris, to see the man looking at him oddly as he ordered the 'lift to the bridge. Tom ran his hands through his hair and called for the turbolift to halt. "Chak, I'm okay, honest. You can quit worrying about me, now," he said quietly, as he went up to the Commander and put his arms around him, holding him close, running a gentle hand down the soft, dark hair. Chakotay did his best not to lean into the embrace but he couldn't stop himself.  Tom pulled away, not really seeing the stunned look on his friend's face when he leaned in to kiss Chakotay's forehead, caressing his cheek with the backs of his long fingers.  "Okay?" Tom asked, moving a little ways away from Chakotay, smiling slightly, as he called for the 'lift to resume. the Commander thought, dazedly, The man in the blue shirt and dark pants certainly *looked* like Tom Paris, but he sure as the devil *wasn't* him, couldn't be.  Chakotay was right behind the pilot as he stepped off the turbolift and crossed the bridge to enter the Captain's ready room. "Hi, all!" Tom sang out, as he made his way to the replicator for a snack, as was customary, now that they were back online.  A Haderian apple sounded good, for him, as he placed his order, then tried to get Harry's usual, a Tygellian Sling, swearing when the computer told him the drink wasn't on file. "Dammit," he muttered, drawing even stranger looks from those assembled.  "On the fritz, again."   He patiently explained to the stupid machine how to make Harry's drink, then called out over his shoulder.  "'Lann, you want anything?"  Not getting a response, Tom turned to make eye contact with B'Elanna, his eyebrows drawn up into question marks. "Er, no, thanks," she stumbled, looking wide-eyed at Chakotay, who shook his head slightly at her, making motions to play along with his hands. "I suppose I should be grateful," Tom grinned at her, as he set Harry's smoking drink in front of him and dropped a quick kiss on the top of his head.  Tom was paying so much attention to B'Elanna, he didn't notice Harry's eyes damned near bug out of their sockets, as Tom plopped into the seat next to him, settling in with a contented sigh.  "Watching you go through another helping of gach with Vulcan fire peppers and fried ice cream would probably put me off food for the rest of the day," he looked fondly at her, chuckling, as he bit into the apple, not seeing the looks flying around the table. Then, he looked at her, *really* looked and glanced around the table, groaning. "Aw, Kathryn, *why* is everybody in uniform?  I thought we were done with the damned things.  I know I sure didn't miss them," he all but whined, looking at her, seeing her hair back and confined. Janeway had had about enough of this and she looked at her first officer, wondering why he seemed to be so willing to let Lieutenant Paris carry on this way.  She noticed he looked rather shell-shocked as she tried to get his attention. "Commander," she said quietly, not missing Tom sit bolt upright and stare wide-eyed at Chakotay. "My friend, what the hell did you *do*?" he practically whispered, leaning forward, trying to make eye contact with Chakotay, reaching across the table to him, left hand outstretched.  "Damn, I'm gone for *how long* and you manage to piss her off to the point that she won't even call you by *name*?  What did you *do*?" he asked, in disbelief, as B'Elanna caught the flash off the ring on his finger. "Nice ring, Tom," she said, trying to draw his attention away from Chakotay. "Thanks, 'Lann, Harry's got one just like it," Tom tossed glibly back to her, over his shoulder, reaching out to take Harry's left hand in his, glancing down briefly, then doing a horrified doubletake as he looked at Harry's bare hand. His shocked glance came up to meet Harry's, the color vanishing from his face, as he met Harry's eyes and reached inward for their link, to find almost nothing.  Just the faintest of echoes, certainly not strong enough to belong to the man sitting at his side. Tuvok came to the realization at the same time Tom did, although the Vulcan was somewhat perplexed to feel himself aware of a telepathic presence in the room: the Lieutenant, of all people. Tom shot out of his chair and backed himself into the wall, still looking at Harry with horror. "Nothing, not Harry?  You're *not* Harry!" he said loudly, "Harry, *my* Harry, would rather lose his arm than that ring!  Who *are* you?" he asked fiercely.  "Who the *hell* . . ." he trailed off, to tap the small pendant hanging just inside his shirt.   "Tom to Voyager," he barked out, realizing the people around him were *not* his crewmates.  There was static for a moment then Chakotay's distant voice came over the link. "Tom?  Can you hear me?"  Shocked looks flew around the table at Chakotay, his own the most stunned at hearing his voice come over the comm. "Chak?  Dammit, what is going on?"  Tom cried out, running agitated fingers through his hair. "Easy, Tom, calm down.  You're all right," Chakotay's voice assured him, then grew fainter, as he spoke to someone on his end.  "Can we get visual?" he asked, and Tom shot out of the ready room to the bridge while most of the crew went to their usual places.  Chakotay and the Captain remained behind him, exchanging wondering looks. Harry got a channel open, matching the frequency of Tom's . . . comm necklace? . . . trying to just do his job and ignore the maelstrom of thoughts running through his mind, the kiss, the rings, *Tom*?  He finally cleaned up the transmission, to see a mirror image of the bridge staring back at him on the viewscreen.  My gods, that was *him*, standing behind the other Chakotay.  Harry's mouth went slack and he froze. Chakotay stood behind Paris, staring at his double on the screen, and Kathryn's, with Harry's twin just beyond, all of them in colorful civilian clothing, with pendants, like Tom's, around their necks, in place of the usual commbadges.  He stopped looking, to listen. "Chak?  Where are you?  Where the hell is Voyager?  How did I end up here, wherever *here* is . . ." Tom trailed off to find Chak smiling at him, shaking his head. Kathryn spoke up, softly.  "Tom, I swear you are never leaving this ship again," she said, wryly.  "These things always seem to happen to *you*, I just don't . . ." her voice faded out as Chak put an arm around her shoulders, and brought his lips to her temple, hushing her, while the Captain and Commander behind Tom studiously avoided looking at one another. "Tom, you mentioned, shortly after entering the cloud, that you had seen what appeared to be a reflection of Voyager," Chak started, as Tom nodded, affirmatively.  "While you were taking readings, you vanished from sensors for awhile."  Tom was still nodding.  It was the reason that Kathryn had decided against Voyager entering the gas cloud in the first place, concerned that the ship's sensors would be damaged again.  Sending a shuttlecraft seemed a more sensible option.  "Somehow, you headed back to the wrong ship, while the shuttlecraft's sensors were also inoperable." Tom sighed.  "Parallel universe?" he asked, already knowing the answer, and Chak nodded, sighing right along with his friend.  "Dammit, Chak, I *hate* these things, I really do," he moaned, glaring with mock indignation at Kathryn and Chak, as they struggled not to laugh at him. One more glare seemed to stop the merriment and he asked, "Okay, so how and when do I get home?" "The plasma storm is too strong for the shuttlecraft to withstand, right now.  It'll be about three hours before you'll get another window, to return in," Kathryn spoke up, apologetically.  She couldn't help feeling responsible for her favorite pilot's current predicament.  It had taken nearly six hours for the first window to manifest itself, and Tom's restlessness to get going had been obvious then.  His impatience to return home was even more apparent, now. This couldn't be easy on Harry, either, she thought, before Tom interrupted her train of thought. "Three hours. I can wait three hours. I think," he muttered out loud, rolling his eyes at snorts from Chak and Harry, both. "So, how's my counterpart doing?" Tom asked, seeing a change in topic as necessary to derail the teasing he'd get, otherwise.  He watched, puzzled, as Chak turned away, slightly shamefaced. "He's in sickbay," Chak muttered, not wanting to meet Tom's eyes.  "Under sedation." "What did you do to him?" Tom asked incredulously, feeling the officers behind him move closer. "I didn't really do anything.  I simply greeted *him* the way I usually greet *you* and he went into shock," Chak replied, defiantly glaring at Tom, who couldn't stop laughing. "My god, you kissed him, didn't you?" Tom asked and, upon seeing the answer on Chak's face, promptly roared with laughter. "I didn't know he wasn't you," Chak sputtered, glaring at Kathryn, who was trying to smother her laughter behind one hand. "You're not helping, here, you know," he groused, trying to look put upon. "Oh, like the uniform wasn't a dead giveaway," Tom shot back. "You've done stranger things," Chak replied, unwilling to admit to seeing the humor in it all, but failing, miserably, as he grinned.  "The sheer horror in his eyes, now *that* was a dead giveaway," he finished, and they burst into laughter, again.  Chak soon quieted, seeing the officers behind Tom not appreciating the humor of the situation at all.   He nodded toward his counterpart behind Tom, asking, "How is *he*?" Tom shrugged, deciding to go with the truth, seeing the gleam in his friend's eyes.  "Not bad; a little stiff," he replied. "*His* surgery must not have been the resounding success *mine* was," Chak said. The Commander came forward to stand by Tom, his confusion evident in his eyes.  "What surgery?" he asked. "The surgery to remove that gigantic hunk of wood from your ass," Chak deadpanned. Harry snorted and disappeared behind Chak, while Kathryn slugged him in the shoulder, before joining Harry in hiding, not wanting their more serious counterparts to see them struggling to keep from laughing. Tom had heard the Commander's swift intake of air behind him and knew he was *not* amused.  He grinned at his own Chakotay, enjoying the wicked gleam in the other man's eyes.  "You," Tom started, in a voice filled with awe and reverence, despite his smile, "are *truly* evil.  And I am *humbled* in the presence of such greatness," he finished, both hands on his chest, over his heart.  He wondered if kneeling would be taking it too far and decided it probably wouldn't be a good idea. Chak laughed out loud.  "Ha!  I got this way from you; this is all *your* fault." "*My* fault?" Tom asked with blatant disbelief. "I *used* to be a nice person, perfectly content with my role as the resident 'Mystic Warrior', until *you* got your hooks into me," he grumbled, as if to himself, moving deliberately to the side to expose Harry and Kathryn, who were using him to hide behind, still trying to maintain some semblance of dignity.  They gave up, looked at each other, and all but collapsed into a laughing fit, as Harry moved off to take his place at Ops, shaking his head and wiping his eyes. Kathryn realized that the other crew could see her and cleared her throat. Chak came back to her side, still muttering to himself.  She glared at him, but he blithely ignored her, his smiling eyes resting on Tom. "Watch yourself, my friend," Chak said softly, all humor gone, now, as he squeezed Kathryn's shoulder.  "Get back home in one piece." "I will, Chak, promise," Tom replied, as, to the astonishment of the Commander behind him, they exchanged an ancient farewell between brothers in his native language. Kathryn's warm eyes followed Chak as he moved out of visual range, off to speak with Harry. "Have you told him, yet, Kath?" Tom asked softly, a gentle smile lighting his face.  Kathryn appeared stunned and her head whipped around to see Chak busy still with Harry, not paying any attention to her and Tom. "How did you know?" she whispered fiercely, her eyes huge. Tom just shook his head at her. "Kathryn, he just loves you; I *adore* you," he said, with a touch of attitude, making her grin.  "Besides, I'm observant.  I was the first to know about 'Lann, too, remember," he reminded her, ignoring the puzzled look he knew he was getting from the Torres on this Voyager's bridge. "No, I haven't told him, but I guess I'll have to, now," Kathryn sighed. "Not on my account, you don't," Tom said firmly, but gently. "You mean you won't . . ." she began as Tom shook his head. "Kathryn, I love the man, but Chak is not about to hear that he's going to be a father from *me*," Tom said, reassuring her, ignoring the swift intakes of breath he heard behind him. "It's not my place to tell him." "I don't know how he's going to handle it, especially after Seska's little stunt . . ." she trailed off, seeing Tom's glare. "If I thought you were *actually* comparing yourself to that bitch, you would be in *serious* trouble when I got back," Tom stated firmly, grinning when he saw Kathryn do the same.  "There's no similarity at all, you know that.  But, if you want to wait and tell him after I get back, that's fine. I'll be glad to help him back to your quarters if he stumbles my way in shock and delirious joy." Kathryn laughed out loud, which brought Chak's head up as he looked at her, smiling indulgently, before returning his attention to Harry. "You know, those two behind you look like *they're* in shock," Kathryn said gently, smiling at her counterpart and her first officer. "I don't think this crew is quite as . . . familiar as ours, Kathryn," Tom said, and grinned when he heard the Captain behind him mutter, "That's for damned sure." "You know, this could be an opportunity for an exchange of information, if you'd be willing, Captain," Kathryn started, seeing her counterpart's interest. "I'd recommend swapping only the official logs, Kath.  I don't think this group could handle the personal ones," Tom quipped, drawing a soft glare from Kathryn and a much harder one from the Captain at his side. "We'll make copies of our logs and send them back with your pilot, Captain," Kathryn decided.  "I think there may be a lot we can learn from one another." Janeway spoke up, "I agree, Kathryn, and I look forward to them.  Ours will be sent along with *your* Lt. Paris." They nodded to one another and Kathryn looked again at Tom.  "Try to stay out of trouble, Tom," she said, dryly, knowing full well how fond of him Trouble was. "Yes, Ma'am," he said softly, grinning at her. She walked off muttering "I hate crunch time," under her breath, and Tom chuckled. B'Elanna came into view, looking slightly expectant, and grinned at her favorite pilot.  "You must have stayed up *really* late to come up with this one, Tom," she said, and laughed. "Hey, beautiful, how're you feeling?" Tom said, ignoring her jibe with a grin. "Pretty good, actually.  Tuvok still won't let me eat in the same room with him, though," she groused, making Tom laugh.  The eyes of the Torres near him got rather wide. "Can you blame him? The combinations of foods you come up with should be outlawed," Tom responded to 'Lann's snort, as Tuvok came up behind her, putting two fingers on her shoulder, as she leaned back into him and placed a hand on her somewhat-rounded abdomen.  She looked up at him and smiled, caressing his hand with her first two fingers before she turned back to Tom. "Be careful," she said softly and left visual range after Tom said he would be. "Hey, Tuvok," Tom said to the Vulcan who was staring softly after 'Lann's retreating form. "How are you?" "Were I human, I would be feeling sympathy for your current situation, concern for your well-being, and relief at your impending return home," Tuvok said quietly. "Thank you," Tom said sincerely. "Not at all, Tom.  B'Elanna does not like to eat alone and you are the only one who can bring himself to dine with her," Tuvok stated simply, as Tom burst into laughter. "You going to be up for a run when I get back?" Tom asked. "I look forward to it," Tuvok replied, moving offscreen as Harry came up beside him. "Hi, there," Tom said softly, a slight smile still on his face. "Hi, yourself," Harry responded just as softly. "Oh, Harry, I am so sorry . . ." Tom started but Harry cut him off. "Don't be.  This isn't your fault; it's not like you did it on purpose," Harry answered reasonably. "Gods, I hate this.  I can barely feel you from here," Tom whispered intensely, as he leaned forward on the railing, trying to get closer to Harry.   "I know.  And I know we aren't always totally tuned in, but now that you're so far away . . ." Harry began. "Yeah, me too.  I've got everything up full and it's like you're hardly there.  It hasn't been this bad since . . ." he drifted off, knowing Harry knew exactly what he meant. "I'm trying not to think about it, but you're right.  Watch yourself.  You know I can't live without you anymore," Harry stated simply, until static started breaking up the transmission. Tom ignored the looks he knew he was getting from the crew around him. "I will.  I will.  Three hours," he sighed, and Harry sighed with him. "Three damned long hours," Harry replied, with a slight grin. "Love you," Tom whispered. "Love you, too," Harry whispered back. Tuvok found himself intrigued when they said goodbye in Vulcan, adding the term for mates who had been bonded for life.  He said nothing and the screen went dark, the transmission lost due to the storm's interference. Tom leaned over the rail and lowered his head onto his arms.  Damn, this hurt, *really* hurt. He and Harry hadn't been this far apart in ages, not since . . . He ran his fingers through his hair as he stood up, wrapping his arms around himself, barely able to touch his connection to Harry in his mind.  Tom sighed.  If he kept thinking about it, he'd go nuts. He turned to the Captain. "If you don't mind, Captain, I'll just go play with my shuttlecraft until it's time for me to leave.  Might be best to keep me out of everyone's way," he said softly, not meeting her eyes until the last, then seeing the empathy for him there. Janeway simply nodded; she knew someone who needed some time alone when she saw them and there were so many questions she wasn't entirely sure she *really* wanted the answers to.  "Dismissed," was all she said and Tom headed into the turbolift, leaving a heavily silent bridge behind him.                  <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Tom was flat on his back under the shuttlecraft, checking the starboard nacelle, when Harry walked in after Alpha shift ended.  The Ensign had debated the wisdom of talking to Tom, but he had a lot of questions he needed answers to. He had always considered his friend attractive and he thought, at times, that Tom had felt the same about him. But that was a far cry from being *married* to one another.  He didn't understand what had been so radically different in the other reality, that it could have made such a pairing possible, taken it so far beyond the boundaries of mere friendship, and he had to know.  He and B'Elanna had been establishing a foundation of friendship and mutual admiration that might lead to something more. He hoped so, at any rate.  But, was he *supposed* to be with *Tom*, and not B'Elanna?  Harry hoped his presence wouldn't bother the other man. He didn't understand the apparent 'link' the two of them had and that was something else he wanted to find out about. He made his way around the shuttlecraft, wondering if Tom was actually working on a problem, or simply making busy work, to keep himself occupied. He heard music, jazz actually, *good* jazz, with a clarinet solo just beginning and saw Tom pause in his activity and heard him sigh. "Ohh, Harry.  Damn, you're good," he heard Tom murmur. "That's me?" Harry asked in astonishment and Tom scrambled out from underneath the shuttlecraft. "Gods, you startled me! No," he raised a hand to halt Harry's apology, "it's okay.  Yeah, that's . . . Harry.  I put a recording together of everyone's stuff, to keep me company when I'm away from them." Harry looked at him, askance.  "*Everyone's* stuff?" he asked, settling himself on the floor when Tom motioned for him to sit down. "Yeah, everyone's.  Harry's clarinet music, Chak's tribal music, some of Tuvok's harp pieces, Kes's Ocampan songs, those are beautiful, you know. Samantha's guitar, Kathryn's piano.  We're quite the musical bunch," Tom finished, grinning. Harry stared.  "I had no idea.  That's amazing." "Yeah, you walk down the corridors near the crew's quarters, and you'll hear music coming from most of them.  Some of the impromptu concerts are a blast." Harry's brow furrowed.  "How can you hear the music through the doors?" Tom just looked at him, smiling slightly.  "Harry, the doors are almost always open.  Nobody shuts their doors anymore, people just wander in and out, talking and visiting. The doors are only closed when someone's asleep and even then, it's not like they're locked or anything." "How did that happen? No wait," Harry paused, shaking his head.  "How did it *all* happen?" "Oh, Har, I've only got two and a half hours," Tom grinned, as Harry looked at him in tolerant annoyance. Tom sighed and began.  He told Harry about all the battles with the Kazon, and the Vidiians, some of which Harry recognized, most he didn't.  How the ship was in such bad shape, after the takeover by the Kazon, that people were bunking down in the cargo bays, the mess hall, wherever there was room.  Most of the crew's quarters had been trashed, totally demolished, and the replicators were destroyed.  They hadn't been functioning for months, after. Repairs were painfully slow; as the crewmembers' quarters were brought back into some semblance of order, several people moved into each one.  It had been a forced intimacy, but near-families had been established.  Most of the senior officers had stayed in Kathryn's quarters for weeks, until others had gradually been made livable.  Neelix had been running himself ragged, trying to boost morale, until he realized that the crew were taking care of each other, getting used to being with one another.  It had almost become a habit. Now, no one was left alone for very long.  If someone's door stayed closed too much, friends and 'family' would appear to find out why.  Very few people ended up back in their original quarters.  Most who had been forced to live together, took up residence near one another and the close relationships forged had been maintained.  Voyager had become one huge neighborhood, as the walls that had been knocked down between people *stayed* down. Kathryn had realized that something extraordinary was happening and had allowed the changes taking place to remain.  Starfleet protocols weren't recognizable any longer. As uniforms wore out, civilian clothing replaced them, to the extent that no one wore them anymore, even those who still had them.  Rank wasn't even really used; it was seen as something which could set up artificial barriers between people who were, for all intents and purposes, family members now. Tom paused when Harry looked at him, shocked. "Wow," he said softly, and Tom laughed.  Harry had noticed that the other crew seemed to do that a lot.  He was totally floored.  He couldn't remember ever seeing Tom so obviously happy. "So, Harry," Tom started hesitantly, "what else do you want to know?"  He wasn't going to push, but he was willing to bet that Harry had come to talk about more than just how his crew became a family, albeit a rather large, hyper-extended family. The jazz section had ended, and a soft, melodic, rhythmic piece had begun. A wonderful drum backbeat, almost like a heartbeat, began.  Then, a number of voices, singing different parts, some chanting, fleshed out the piece, making it complete. Harry saw Tom sigh, settle himself more comfortably, and lean back against the shuttlecraft. "That's beautiful," Harry said softly. "That's Chak," Tom answered. "Which voice?" Harry asked.  They were all male and he couldn't pick out just one that sounded like the Commander. Tom smiled.  "All of them." Harry's eyes widened.  "*All* of them?!?" "He's doing all the vocals, layering each one on top of another.  I think there's about forty of them." "I didn't know he could sing.  I didn't know he was that good." Tom chuckled.  "It's amazing what you can find out about a person, when you live with them for six weeks, Harry," he said, wryly. Harry smiled and nodded.  "Is that how you and . . . Harry got together?" He had had to stop himself from saying 'you and I' and, judging from the gentle smile on Tom's face, the other man knew it. "No, Harry and I happened a little while later.  Actually, Chak and I were the ones who almost got together," Tom smiled, as Harry's eyes grew large, and nodded. "Our duty shifts almost always coincided and we couldn't avoid each other forever.  Many times, he and I were the only ones in the quarters, while the rest were on duty.  The holodecks weren't operational, the Doc was barely online, computer time was saved for important stuff; there wasn't much else to do, but talk to each other.  I think Kathryn did it on purpose, forcing us into a close living arrangement where we'd have to learn how to get along better.  It worked.  He became a good friend, the best . . ."                           <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Tom was crashed out on the floor of Kathryn's living area when Chakotay walked in.  Even now, it was hard to think of the first officer as anything but the Commander.  For some odd reason, it was a lot easier calling Kathryn by her first name than it was calling Chakotay by his. Tom ignored him, working on a holodeck program on one of the padds, as Chakotay wandered aimlessly around the room, finally throwing himself into a chair in agitation, sighing. "Feeling a little at odds, Chakotay?" Tom asked, carefully keeping his attitude out of his tone.  The last thing he wanted was another conflict with the man. Chakotay noticed that Tom was simply inquiring and he was ridiculously pleased that the familiar smirk was absent from the face of the man on the floor before him. "Yes, actually I am, Tom," he replied, making sure he kept his own tone even.  Tom had a history of reacting to any hostility in his voice by bringing up the defenses that he couldn't stand, namely, the smirk, the attitude, and the sarcastic, biting humor. Harry had been the one to gently bring it to his attention, the way his voice changed into something antagonistic when speaking to the Lieutenant. He watched himself, now, the enforced truce still uneasy between them.  He wondered a hundred times why Kathryn had insisted on both of them staying in her quarters, along with Harry, B'Elanna and Tuvok.  It really wasn't all that crowded, though. B'Elanna seemed to practically live in engineering and Tuvok, when not on duty, could usually find a silent, private spot in which to lose himself in meditation. Their quarters had only seemed crowded, at first, when both the pilot and the first officer were there together.   "What are you working on?" Chakotay asked, nodding to the padd Tom held in his hands. "A holodeck program," Tom started, sitting up and leaning back against the sofa.  "A running course, actually.  All this forced inactivity is driving me nuts." Chakotay smiled, tentatively.  "Ever the optimist, aren't you?" he asked, keeping his voice light and teasing. Tom almost stiffened at the words, until he heard how the other man was saying them, then he grinned back, a little awkwardly. "About the holodecks coming back online sometime in my lifetime?  Yeah, I guess I am," he chuckled. "A lot of people have taken up jogging through the ship, you know," Chakotay offered carefully, as a suggestion. Tom shook his head.  "That's the problem," he said, then, seeing the man's puzzled look, explained.  "A *lot* of people. I like to run alone, Chakotay.  Tuvok tried some days ago to get me into meditation, but it's too passive for me," he paused as Chakotay slid out of his chair, to join him on the floor, but not too close.  "I can sort of meditate when I run; I need my body to be active, if my mind's going to quiet down. One of the two has to be kept busy.  Besides, I really *like* running." That was sure as hell a loaded, though innocent, statement, but Chakotay wasn't about to go anywhere near it.  He was no fool. "So, what've you got, so far?" he asked and was surprised, though pleased, when Tom moved closer to show him. A sandy beach, warm breezes, blue skies, high cliffs and a thousand little details only Tom would think of, to make it as real as a program could be.  Chakotay sighed.  Tom looked at him questioningly. "Reminds me of a beach down in the Islands.  Black sand, blue water.  I used to run a lot at sunset, when the breeze would be slightly cool, the sand still warm beneath my feet, white foam coming in on the surf, thousands of tiny bubbles shining against the black sand, like stars against the sk y . . ." he trailed off, lost in pleasant thoughts, coming back to the present when he noticed Tom adding the details he'd just mentioned. Tom cocked his head at him. "Do you mind?" he asked hesitantly. Chakotay grinned, softly.  "Not at all, but I want a copy," he said insistently, and Tom shared his smile. "You could use mine . . . maybe join me . . . on occasion.  If you want to," Tom offered, his voice quiet. Chakotay sighed gently.  Finally, a *real* thaw.  "I'd like that. A lot," he replied, relieved.                            <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Kathryn looked up, seeing her pilot and first officer come into the mess hall together, and smiled.  The two were laughing, talking, and seemed to be awfully enthusiastic about something, as they made their way through the line, helping themselves to various things.  Neelix's cooking had certainly taken a surprising turn for the better, once the members of the crew had begun taking turns helping him out.  With the replicators offline, and *everyone* eating all their meals in the mess, the duties as cook had exceeded even his abilities.  He wasn't afraid to learn new things, the crew had to say that for him, and the offerings were improving dramatically. Kathryn wondered if the two men would even notice she was there, so intent were they on their own discussion.  They ended up taking dinner with them and left together, much to her amusement, and B'Elanna's, who had gone through the line behind them, completely unnoticed by either. Kathryn smiled as B'Elanna joined her. "Great Kahles, I never thought I'd live to see the day . ." B'Elanna began, grinning.  "I thought you were begging for disaster when you put those two on identical schedules. Hah, crazy like a fox, Kathryn," she finished, laughing, bringing her glass up to her friend's in acknowledgement of quite a feat accomplished. "I must admit," Kathryn began, sipping her juice, "I wasn't sure they'd end up as friends.  An easing in tensions, an absence of animosity, some tolerance and respect learned, maybe. But, friendship?  That was too much to hope for. But, I must say, I'm delighted . . . and relieved." "That makes two of us," B'Elanna assured her, smiling.                       <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> After a couple more weeks, and some exhausting repairs, the holodecks were back online and Tom and Chak got to go for their first run of many together.  It was perfect, the scents, the sounds, all of it, down to the smallest detail. Chak sighed, watching his breathing.  He and Tom were running in tandem, bare feet striking the warm black sand in unison.  He wondered what the other man was thinking. Chakotay was starting to get tired, but didn't want to call a halt to the activity.  He had to admit, he was enjoying himself.  But, things were bothering him, stupid, foolish, annoying things. He and Tom had spent a lot of time working on this program, along with a couple of others, and it had been wonderful.  They'd talked, found healthy ways to argue, and spent time just being together for companionship's sake. They were well on the road to becoming good friends.  Chak's quarters were almost done, finished, despite his urging B'Elanna to work on other people's first, in order to delay the inevitable.  She'd finally told him that, aside from the senior staff, there was no one else whose quarters needed work.  Tuvok's were done, as were hers, only Harry, he and Tom remained, still living in Kathryn's.  He sighed again, reluctantly facing the fact that soon he was going to have to leave.  And he felt foolish for not wanting to.  And he felt angry at himself for feeling foolish.  He sighed yet again and noticed Tom slowing down to a walk, then finally stopping to stretch. "All right, what is it?  And if you tell me 'nothing', you are going in the drink," Tom said, bringing his knees up one at a time to stretch out the leg muscles. "What is what?" Chak asked, knowing there was no way Tom could know anything was amiss. "Come on, Chak, this is me, remember?  Six sighs in as many minutes tells me something is bothering you, so spill it," Tom pushed, meeting Chakotay's eyes, seeing the turmoil of emotions within them. Chak almost sighed again, unaware, until he caught Tom's meaningful look, and stopped himself, nodding. "It's stupid, really stupid," he muttered, doing some stretching of his own while trying to avoid Tom's searching blue eyes. "What?" Tom asked gently, trying to pull the problem out of him, willing him to talk about it. "My quarters are almost ready for me to move into," Chakotay said, sitting down, making himself comfortable on the sand, looking out at the truly inspired holographic sunset, as Tom made himself comfortable next to him, also facing the clear blue water. "And this is a problem because . . . " Tom gave him an opening, still not getting it. Chakotay leaned back on his elbows and Tom moved back as well, stretching his long legs out, deliberately keeping the other man in sight. "I've gotten accustomed to where I am," Chak said. thought Tom .  "And what, you're going to miss Kathryn?" the pilot asked, still at a loss. Chak snorted.  "I hardly ever *see* Kathryn.  You're the only one . . ." Chak trailed off, closing his eyes, sighing again. Tom was beginning to get an idea, now, and his first instinct was to crack a joke to establish some distance, until he realized that that was the last thing he wanted to do. "I'm going to miss you, too," he said softly, with slightly awkward honesty, "but we'll still make time to be with each other.  My quarters will be right next to yours, and my door will always be open," he said, smiling, seeing Chak return his grin at the running joke about how no one's doors seemed to spend much time closed, anymore. "I just don't want anything to change between us," Chak said quietly. "I've gotten used to sharing space with you, used to having you around . . ." Chakotay's voice faded out, as he thought  He sighed, miserably. Tom looked thoughtfully at the ocean surf.  "Nothing will change.  We're not going to automatically revert to the way we used to be, simply because we're not living together anymore.  I consider you one of my closest friends, now, and I value your friendship.  I'm not going to let you get rid of me that easily," he paused, turning his head to smile slightly at Chakotay, who also smiled before laying back and putting his hands underneath his head, clasping his fingers together. "Good," Chak said, quietly, "because I don't want to be rid of you." Tom grinned back at him as the two of them relaxed in the warmth of their friendship, and watched the sun go down.                   <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Tom shook himself out of the track his thoughts were taking regarding Chak, to find the chain of events that had led to Harry becoming his lover, and then some. "There had been a pretty long stretch of time in between shoreleaves for the crew.  Harry and I had missed one altogether; we were working on a problem with the emitter array and both of us were so damned stubborn about leaving it unfinished, that we blew our chance for some offtime on that particular planet.  Kathryn had promised us first shot at the next opportunity that presented itself."   "Celidan Six was beautiful.  Perfect.  Uninhabited and full of wilderness and potential food sources, which were vital with the replicators offline. Harry and I had beamed down, first. We were supposed to be the first team of many, but it didn't work out that way.  The transporters had been working in fits and starts for weeks, and they picked that particular time to malfunction again.  Nothing major," Tom hastened to assure Harry, whose eyes had grown large in alarm.   "Just a minor thing.  Harry and I didn't even notice, but all hell was breaking loose on Voyager . . ."                          <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> "B'Elanna, what's going on down there?" Kathryn asked, trying to maintain some semblance of calm.  The look on Chakotay's face wasn't helping matters any. "Kathryn, the transporters have malfunctioned and there is still something trapped in the buffers," B'Elanna answered fitfully, desperately trying to bring the transporters back online.  Damn, there went the sensors again. "Great, we have also lost ship's sensors." "Can you tell which one of them it is?" Kathryn queried, getting a very bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.  Tom or Harry? "No, but I think it's both of them.  Kathryn, it may only be part of them, and I can't tell how large that part could be. The sensors went offline before I could determine more than that some neural energy matter had been left in the buffers, both of theirs, but separate.  I think I've managed to isolate both patterns, but that's as far as I've gotten.  Do we have communications?" B'Elanna asked. Kathryn looked up at Tuvok, who grimly shook his head. "Not at this time, Kathryn.  I am working on the problem," he responded to her unasked question. thought Kathryn, worriedly,  "I hate crunch time," she muttered, realizing belatedly that she'd vocalized that particular thought.  She was glad she had, when she saw Chakotay grin slightly.  Kathryn knew he was deeply troubled, but just *how* troubled, she had no idea. Chak let his eyes close for a moment, thinking about Tom. The man had come to mean more to him than he ever would have thought he could.  The quickness of his mind and his temper, as well as his humor, compassion, and curiosity, his gentleness, thoughtfulness and uncanny ability to just *know* things about his friends, all made for an intriguing individual. But, it was more than that.  Tom hadn't been lying when he'd said he'd be there for Chakotay, he had been.  It hadn't been enough for Chak, though. He begrudged Harry every moment he spent with Tom, and it had taken almost more than he'd cared to admit, but he was jealous of their easy friendship, the way they could communicate silently, at times, the quiet joy they found in being together.   Chak tried hard to rein in his thoughts and feelings, but the bridle refused to fit. Every time he heard Harry's laughter coming from Tom's quarters, his whole being tensed.  He prided himself on the fact that he didn't make it difficult for them to spend time together.  He could have arranged their schedules so they rarely laid eyes on one another, but he couldn't do that to Tom.  Harry's excitement, his delight in simple things, his unconditional caring for his best friend, these were things Chak couldn't make Tom do without.  Still, it grated on him. He was having some difficulty making himself realize that he needed more than friendship from Tom.  There was no one else on the ship he felt closer to, no one who understood him better.  He loved the man, it was as simple as that.  He thought about the love he felt for his family and friends back home, Kathryn and the friends he had on Voyager, and found that what he felt for Tom was not the same, but an altogether different kind of feeling.  And he took his mind back to the instant he'd known it. Tom had recently shown so much interest in Chakotay's history, his people, his life.  He'd had been making a recording of all the musical talent to be had on the ship, and had asked Chak to contribute something uniquely his to it. Chakotay had spent hours doing piece after piece for him, all the music he could remember, from his father, his childhood, everything.  He'd played some of it for Tom and watched the man's face express what the music made his soul feel. At the conclusion of nearly an hour's worth of absolute heaven, Tom had said nothing, just looked at Chakotay, then walked over and wrapped his arms around him, softly thanking him. Gods, he loved the man and at that moment he had known it with a certainty that should have rattled him to his core, but didn't.   They'd talked for hours, long into the night, about the stories behind the music, and other tales and legends, everything. Tom had apparently memorized all of it; he'd still give Chakotay a certain look when something reminded him of what they'd talked about, knowing Chak was seeing it too, and they'd both grin, together.  Chak realized that he and Tom had their own silent communication, secret code, whatever you wanted to call it. Just between them, and Chakotay guarded that knowledge jealously.   Chakotay realized that they had other things that were theirs and theirs alone.  They still went running every other day, sometimes Tuvok would join them, sometimes Harry. Sometimes both, and B'Elanna and Kathryn, too. Chakotay realized that Tom ran a lot, with everyone.  Most mornings with Harry, after the odd duty shift with Tuvok, sunset with him. And only him, he discovered.  The times when the others joined them might be evening, but the sunset program on the black sand beach was his and Tom's alone. He hadn't even noticed until now.  Tuvok ran with him on a Vulcan program, Harry, usually along a river, B'Elanna, on some harshly beautiful part of the Klingon Homeworld, and Kathryn, through the lush greenery of the old Irish countryside.  But the beach they'd worked on together was all theirs.   Chakotay sighed.  Just as he found the nerve to venture into whether he actually *desired* Tom or not, his attention was brought back to the situation at hand. Communications had been restored and Tom and Harry both reported that they were fine; neither had noticed nothing unusual at all. Chakotay settled back into his chair and he and Kathryn exchanged a relieved smile.  Now, there was nothing to do but wait until the transporters were functioning again, to bring them both home.                       <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Torres adjusted her uniform jacket with a deliberate jerk, as she marched purposefully toward the shuttlebay.  She and Paris had some things they were going to discuss, whether he liked it or not.  As she reached the shuttlebay doors, she found the Captain already there ahead of her, looking somewhat uncomfortable at having been discovered.  She thought she might be able to bluster her way ahead, until she heard Tuvok's voice behind her. "I have, apparently, underestimated human curiosity," he began, only to be cut off by Torres. "Uh huh, and what are *you* doing here?" she challenged, using bravado to mask the fact that she was having a hard time maintaining eye contact with him. "I am here because that man is not our Lt. Paris and should not be given free run of the ship," he answered, finding himself on the defensive, until the Captain intervened. "Obviously, we all have some questions to ask of our 'guest'. I would suggest we go ahead and ask them," Janeway said reasonably, when she turned and saw Chakotay heading toward them.  She sighed.  Hopefully *someone* was still on the bridge, she mused, as he made his way to her side, looking sheepish. She moved toward the door, motioning them all to go ahead of her when it opened.  They could hear Tom talking to Harry on the opposite side of the shuttlecraft and they all, of a like mind, paused. "So, go on, what happened?" Harry asked impatiently, and Tom chuckled. "Well, the transporters came back online a couple of hours later and 'Lann was able to beam us back up to Voyager," Tom stated simply, watching Harry wonder at it all. "And?!?  Come on, that can't be all!" Harry said, emphatically. "Well, no," Tom started, only to stop at a scowl from Harry, so like his love's.  He grinned warmly at the man seated next to him and went on. "There was one tiny problem," he paused, to see Harry impatiently motion him to go on, "I didn't get my own neural energy matter back.  I got Harry's." Tom stopped to see the light dawn across Harry's face. "And he got yours, didn't he?" Harry asked breathlessly, seeing Tom's slow nod.  "Oh, my god." "Yeah, you said it," Tom grinned, ruefully.  "At first, we couldn't really tell.  I mean, everything seemed like it was before.  But gradually, in a few days, we realized.  I knew what he was doing, when he was doing it: sleeping, showering, eating, when he was talking and to whom, even what was running through his mind.  I didn't want Harry knowing what I was feeling, thinking; I tried like hell to avoid him. Chak guiltily enjoyed that, it meant more time for him to be with me. He knew I was miserable, he just didn't know why, and I couldn't tell him. It didn't occur to either me or Harry that there might be some way to fix it, to get rid of it, until it was too late . . ."                         <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Tom awoke, drenched in sweat, to see someone sitting on the edge of his bed. "Chak?" he asked in a rusty voice, wondering how he'd woken up his friend. "No, not Chak," Harry's soft voice answered as he ordered the computer to raise the lights to ten percent. Tom sighed, seeing his friend's face in the dimness.  "Harry, what are you doing here? What are you doing *awake*, for crying out loud?" he asked. "I heard you.  I saw you, too, in your nightmare," Harry answered quietly. <*Saw* me?!? Oh, hell, *no*>  "Oh, Harry, gods, I'm sorry. Dammit," Tom whispered.  This was exactly what he hadn't wanted to have happen.  Shit! He'd been afraid of something like this, that was why he'd been avoiding Harry. "You have no reason to be afraid," Harry said softly, "and I wondered why you were avoiding me." Tom thought incredulously, feeling completely ridiculous. Harry smiled sadly. he thought. Tom heard it.  "Oh, this is not happening," he groaned, covering his face with his arms, hiding, gutless wonder that he was.  Harry trailed off, trying to work out warp field phase differentials in his head, anything to distract himself from where his thoughts were taking him. asked Tom, wondering at how natural it seemed and felt to have his friend's private thoughts running around his grey matter and also wondering why Harry was suddenly so obsessed with warp field phase differentials. Harry thought softly and sighed. Gods, Tom felt that sigh all the way to his gut and back again.  He sat up and wrapped his arms around Harry, stroking his back through the soft material of his sleepshirt, feeling Harry's come around him, hesitantly. Tom thought gently, not knowing what else to say. Harry asked him. he responded. Harry thought. Tom asked, picking up Harry's nonverbal shudder, and tightening his hold.  He felt Harry's head nod at the same time he heard him say 'yes' in his mind.   Harry pulled back and looked at him. Tom roared internally, seeing Harry flinch at the intensity.   Harry understood, as he followed the commotion of Tom's thoughts, that it wasn't the connection between them he was regretting, but the unfairness of passing his nightmare onto his best friend. He realized Tom had been avoiding him to protect him from just exactly this.  Tom hadn't wanted Harry to know about it, it was that simple.  That selfless.  That wonderful.  That Tom.  He took the other man's face in his hands and thought a stern at him, smiling as Tom stilled.   "I'm not as fragile as you think I am, you know," he whispered.  "So knock it off and stop trying to protect me." He paused as a thousand 's came into his mind.   he thought at Tom, "I can't help it Harry, it's something that runs through *my* mind so much of the time.  It just didn't seem fair to let it run through *yours*," he said quietly, holding Harry's hands against his face.   he couldn't help thinking, wishing he could shut off his mind when he knew Harry had heard him. Harry decided suddenly.   Tom's eyes widened as he slowly shook his head.  He felt Harry's hands tighten in his. <*Yes*, dammit.  If yours are *so* godawful, come into *mine* and we'll dream together. Nothing in mine could ever hurt you>  Harry thought extra hard at Tom, overriding halfhearted protests. Tom was still, stunned into total silence, verbal and otherwise.  He smiled at Harry and, to Harry, it seemed like dawn was breaking in the dimly lit room.   Tom thought softly  He got up, to change into clothing that wasn't soaked in sweat and tried to stop his mind from thinking the next part, but it was not to be denied and he gave up.  One could only think of warp field phase differentials so much, he reasoned, and went back to bed. Harry looked at him, perplexed, until the word floated softly to him. <*stay*> Harry smiled and nodded and crawled into the bed next to Tom.                       <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Tom grinned at Harry's stunned expression and shifted; the shuttlebay floor was not exactly comfortable.   "You mean it was that easy?" Harry asked wonderingly. "Easy?  Oh, hell, no, not by a long shot.  What happened next was extremely awkward, made even more so because I figured out how I felt about Harry the same day I found out how Chak felt about me . . ."                        <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Tom woke the next morning feeling wonderful.  *Damn*, but he had had a good night.  Great sleep, wonderful dreams. He couldn't *believe* Harry's dreams.  Pirate fantasies, treasure and sailing, cannons and battles, gods, it had been *glorious*.  He paused during his somewhat dazed recollection of Harry in a silk pirate's shirt with tight trousers and a sword, until he heard a snort in his mind as well as in his bed. Harry thought with a nonverbal wink to which Tom responded with a verbal and nonverbal roar of laughter, before smothering it behind hands pressed tightly to his mouth.  He stared at Harry as his friend removed his hands.     Tom grinned at him, sighing.  <*Pirates*, Harry?>  He managed to ask before the pillow soundly whacked him over the head. The fight was on, fast and furious; the two of them being ridiculous, Tom giddy from a wonderful night, Harry positively goofy from seeing his best friend so happy and at ease, until . . .                     <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> "Until what?? What happened?" Harry asked breathlessly, seeing the light in Tom's eyes. "He kissed me," Tom answered in a bare whisper, staring into space, into the past. "Whoa," Harry whispered back.  "Then what?" Tom looked at him, and smiled beautifully.  "My sun went nova . . ."                         <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> The pillows were on the floor, with most of the bedclothes, the bed was a wreck, Tom was lying on his back, and Harry had just kissed him. Oh. Dear.  God. Warm, soft, wonderful, sweet, strong.  Harry.  Tom's eyes closed as Harry raised one eyebrow in a disturbingly Tuvokian manner. Harry had heard all of that.  Shit.  Tom opened his eyes and stared into his friend's.  His hand came up, almost of its own accord, and wrapped itself into soft hair the color of a midnight sky at sea, complete with moonlight casting bright highlights on it.  Tom watched the dark strands move and fall over his fingers and sighed in contentment.  Beautiful.  Harry. Harry asked softly, eyes closed at the sensuous feeling of his best friend's long fingers running through his hair.   Tom watched and felt the play of emotions running through Harry.  Why didn't this feel weird?  Why wasn't he scared half out of his mind?  Why did this seem so perfect?  Why was he suddenly seeing his quarters with Harry's belongings moved into them?  Why was there this incredibly strong picture of the two of them in his mind, together, touching, kissing, loving?  A sudden pain behind his eyes made him flinch, and brought Harry's eyes open with a nearly audible snap. he said worriedly. thought Harry, reluctantly. Tom thought, dismayed.  By the gods, if they could feel each other's *pain* . . . Harry thought, hushing Tom's eminent protest.   He looked down at Tom, grinning slowly when the man's eyes grew dark, like the ocean at sunset.  He saw Tom smile at the comparison and watched an image form in Tom's mind of such a place, with, from Tom's perspective, sand the color of his hair.  He could smell it, hear it, everything, an entire sensory picture taken from Tom's mind. He saw Harry's eyes grow wide, felt his friend's mind become a total blank. Tom started to get worried, until the floodgates opened and everything came pouring through. Tom thought.   Harry leaned down again and brought his mouth to Tom's. Harry laid himself out along Tom's body, resting lightly against him, soft kisses touching Tom's cheek, chin, nose, forehead, before settling gently on his lips. Mouth and mind both groaned at the contact as he felt Tom's hands stroke him softly down his back and up again, to his neck and hair. He was letting one hand trace the curve of Tom's shoulder, down his arm and up, when Tom rolled them both over and settled between Harry's legs. He didn't want this to go too far too fast, so he left their clothing alone and heard Harry's silent agreement.  They had plenty of time to explore one another and they both were in complete accord that it would be time well spent.  He could feel Harry's hardness against his thigh and knew Harry could feel his own.  They silently acknowledged the obvious fact that they both wanted the other and felt relief, almost, that that particular pleasure was going to be saved for another time.   Tom thought, and Harry chuckled inwardly, his friend's mental laugh joining his. Tom looked at Harry's eyes, glowing softly, and sighed. Contentment, happiness and lust had never gone together so well. Harry laughed out loud at that and pulled Tom's head down for another slow, soft kiss.  The other man's lips opened against his and he moaned his delight.  Tom's tongue gently touched his, then retreated, teasing him. Harry rolled them back, so that he was on top and caught a from Tom, making him giggle.   he thought fiercely, claiming Tom's mouth in a roughly wonderful kiss. Tom thought hazily before his tongue clashed with Harry's and groans from both of them reverberated though their minds. Harry leaned into Tom's neck, willing his heartrate to slow down, as Tom caressed his back, wrapping his legs around him. he briefly thought feeling Tom's mental nod, before the pilot started lightly gnawing on his neck, nibbling gently, just enough to make their hearts trip again.  He heard, then felt, the physical hunger in Tom's body and flinched again at a second pain in the other man's head. "When did you last eat?" Harry asked, concerned. "It's not that; I don't know what it is," Tom said quietly, thinking, wondering if the pain reminded him of anything else, when he caught a tentative asked silently. Tom replied, kissing Harry again before sitting up slowly, the tightness behind his eyes making him dizzy. Harry thought, and explained when Tom began to protest.  . Tom sank back onto the bed with a sigh, feeling the discomfort ebb a little.  He heard a quick thought from Harry about going to the Doc, before he realized that if the Doc knew what was going on, he might try to 'cure' it.  Neither one wanted to lose their connection.  It was too precious to both of them.  They grinned at each other, in accord yet again.  Tom suddenly got a craving for one of Neelix's pancake breakfasts and sighed. He didn't even really *like* pancakes and thought long and hard about some french toast.   Harry smiled indulgently.                    <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Harry stared at Tom, thoroughly and irrevocably stunned. Tom leaned back against the shuttlecraft and sighed. "We wanted to wait, needed to wait, take our time.  It was so damn close, *so* fast, we both felt like we should pull back a little," Tom ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward, crossing his legs.  "Everything I ever wanted to know about Harry was up for grabs in my head, his family, his home, his hopes and dreams, his wishes and ambitions.  His fantasies, his fears, what would make him cry, scream, laugh, faint, all of it."  He looked at the Harry sitting so close to him, trying to make him understand how overwhelming it had all been. Harry couldn't conceive of any of it and not for Tom's lack of trying. Then, as he listened, Tom began naming names. Not how they were all relevant, or when they had become important in his life, or how any of them had affected him. Just the names.  His first teacher, his music mentor, his first kiss, his first lover, his roommate at the Academy, almost everyone in his family, his favorite author, singer, composer, poet, artist, all of them.  Everyone.  By the gods . . . "Do you see, Harry?  It was all there, everything.  *All* of him. And, heaven help him, he knew everything there was to know about me. And was still speaking to me after the shock had worn off.  I have never had anyone so completely *know* me in my life, there was no way I *could*, not until then.  And he accepted all of it, totally.  No harsh judgements of any kind, no reprisals, only some regret mixed in with this confounded joy at knowing more about me than *I* can remember, or would want to.  He *loved* it.  I couldn't believe it, he absolutely loved it.  He loved the total access he had to me, everything that could make me tick, burn, sweat, laugh, all of it," Tom paused, getting an evil look in his eyes that made Harry slightly uncomfortable. "You know, he could bring me to orgasm whenever the hell he wanted to, took about thirty seconds flat, from a totally cold start, and he didn't even have to be on the same *deck* as I was."   Tom stopped, looking at Harry, whose eyes were in danger of falling out, and laughed gently, reaching over to place a hand on his arm.  "I'm sorry, really, Harry.  I didn't mean to embarrass you.  It was just so unreal, sometimes," he sighed, leaning back again.  "I would know his heartbeat anywhere on the ship.  I could tell where he was with half a thought.  I knew when he was thinking about me. I could taste what he was eating for dinner.  I could hear him play his clarinet for me when I was on duty.  I could feel his total love for me any damned time I needed it.  I could feel his arms around me, holding both my body and my mind safe and sound.  And it's even better now than it was then." Harry gazed at him thoughtfully.  "So, what happened with Chakotay?" "That was painful.  I had no idea he'd fallen in love with me and there I was falling more in love with Harry with every passing hour. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt Chak . . ."                        <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Tom was sitting on the black sand, doing some warm-up exercises when Chak arrived for their evening jog later that day.  Chakotay watched the other man move and decided he'd have to tell him soon, or risk permanently damaging his sanity.  Tom had been so distracted that whole day; Chak hoped the man would tell him what the problem was. Tom looked up at his friend and smiled.  "Hey there," he said quietly, still partly distracted by both the ever-present delight of Harry in his head and the annoying ache right behind his eyes.  Bloody headaches were quickly becoming ever-present as well. "Hi.  You okay?" Chak asked, concerned. "Yeah, it's just been a long day, a *really* long day," Tom murmured, running fingers through his hair, trying to massage the ache away. Chak knelt behind him and took over, letting his hands move through soft hair that looked almost red in the setting sunlight.  He felt Tom ease back into him, sighing. Tom relaxed, letting Chak support him, enjoying how the warmth and pressure of the man's hands was soothing the pain somewhat.   Tom grinned.   "Tom, I need to talk to you," Chakotay said quietly. It took Tom a second to realize the voice was sounding in his ears, not his mind, and that a response was necessary. Chak sounded unusually serious, as Tom turned around to face him.  "What's up?" Tom asked, wondering why Chak couldn't quite meet his eyes. Chakotay looked at him and decided it was now or never. He leaned forward slightly and, reaching out with a somewhat shaky hand, gently caressed Tom's lower lip with his thumb, before covering the distance between them and bringing his lips to Tom's for a soft kiss.  Tom felt Harry's shock and knew the mirror image of it was being felt by Harry.  He eased back slightly, looking up at Chak in stunned surprise.   "Oh, Chak," he whispered, hearing Harry offer to come down to the holodeck, but he thought .  He never had anyone but him and Chak in this program, it was theirs, even though Harry knew it as well as he did from the frequent visits in his mind.  Still, he didn't think the other man would appreciate the intrusion, not right then, and he wanted to handle this, and gently, keeping it between the two of them. thought Harry. Tom shot back, trying to keep the smile in his mind off his face. Tom took Chak's hand and stared out at the water and sighed.  Man, if he'd done this *yesterday* . . .  Tom suddenly realized it wouldn't have mattered and what a disaster that would've been . . .                         <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> He halted in his recalling to see Chakotay come around the shuttlecraft. Hell.  Harry suddenly looked uncomfortable and Tom sighed.  The Captain, Tuvok and B'Elanna were right behind him. Triple Hell. "Why would it have been such a disaster?" Chakotay asked him, unable to let that remark go unchallenged and ignoring why it mattered to him so much. Tom took a deep breath and motioned them all to sit.  Chakotay and the Captain did but B'Elanna simply leaned back against the shuttlecraft, crossing her arms over her chest.  Tuvok choose to remain standing. "Okay, bad choice of words on my part," Tom admitted. "Chak and I discovered that the reason we drove each other so nuts, was because we're so damned much alike.  No, seriously," he added, seeing the amused 'yeah, right' looks on most of the faces currently present.   "We know how to push each others buttons far too well.  I know what pisses him off to aggravation, he knows the same about me. If we'd had a relationship, it would've been hot, hard, furious, glorious, and agonizing. We probably would've burned each other out in the process and I would've lost one of my best friends," he said regretfully. "It would've been wonderful for awhile, I know it, but in the end we'd have wound up *hating* one another.  We're both stubborn as hell, unlikely to change, and we rub each other the wrong way a lot of the time.  The intense feelings of a romantic, physical relationship would've only added fuel to what was already practically a warp core breach.  I don't think we could've salvaged anything from it when it was over and that would've hurt more than anything," he said softly, sighing, not realizing how many people he was surprising with his candor. "I need Harry, he takes off the rough edges.  Chak and I are both pretty wounded people; there's a lot of hurt in each of us.  Harry soothes that hurt for me, just like Kathryn does for Chakotay.  Both of them are a lot alike, too, Kathryn and Harry.  Chak needs her just like I need him. Don't get me wrong," he hastened to clarify, "Harry and I have an incredibly intense relationship, but there's no danger of it exploding in our faces. Chak and I might have been able to have a relationship, but with Harry," he paused, smiling, "I have forever." "What if you'd ended up having that link with Chakotay?" Harry wondered. Tom shook his head.  "Never would've happened.  Chak would've gone to the Doc as soon as he realized what was going on." "You don't know that," Chakotay protested, when Tom interrupted. "Yes, I do, he told me so, after he found out what had happened," Tom said, gently.  "He said at the time that it never would've gotten as far as it did, if it had happened to him. He's too private a person and he wouldn't have tolerated it." "You're a private person, too, you know, and it didn't stop you," Torres threw in. "No, I'm not, not anymore," Tom said honestly.  "I used to be, but a lot of that was based on fear, B'Elanna.  It was easier for me to have people loathe me and not know the real me, than have them loathe me because they *did* know the real me. You know," Tom added thoughtfully, "I don't know if I should tell you this or not.  I don't want to hurt *your* Tom Paris. But, he's not what you think he is, or who. He's just *very* good at making you see what you want to see, while at the same time he's making sure that you don't want to look too closely.  Harry is the *only* one who ever saw what was actually there, because he's the only one who ever cared enough to look," he sighed, seeing the astonished looks on the faces of his counterpart's crewmates. "There were a lot of times when I was really getting into the 'role' of being Lt. Tom Paris and just the knowing look on Harry's face would bring me up short.  He knew when it was bullshit, even before he took up permanent residence inside my mind.  Harry and I were friends from the get go; it was like it was a given.  Chak and I had to fight our way past an awful lot to become as close as we are," he finished. "So, how did you get past that kiss on the beach?" wondered Harry, wanting to know the rest of the story, but still not too comfortable with the idea that the rest of the bridge crew was hearing it as well. "Very carefully," Tom said in a quiet voice, smiling ruefully. "*Very* carefully . . ."                          <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Tom briefly debated being understanding and sympathetic, but he knew Chak well enough to know that it would just piss him off.  Time to go on the offensive. He looked at Chak and glared, taking the man somewhat aback.  Good. "You have absolutely no idea how much you mean to me, do you?" he asked almost angrily, seeing the stunned look on Chak's face. Perfect.   he caught from Harry. he shot back, hearing Harry's laughter fill his mind. He jumped to his feet and paced with deliberate agitation, dragging his fingers through his hair. "I can't believe this," he bit off.  "You know how much our friendship means to me. You know how much I love spending time with you.  You know how hard it was for us to get this far," he paused, dropping to his knees again.  "And you know it would never work between us, Chak.  Dammit, you *know* that.  I am not going to lose one of the best friends I've *ever* had, for a relationship that's doomed from the start.  Do you *really* believe this could last a lifetime? Do you?" he asked. "I want to," Chak started, before Tom cut him off. "That's not what I asked you.  Do you believe we could last until death us do part?" Tom asked, seeing the surprised look on the other man's face.  "Chak, I love you, you know that, you mean the world to me. You're the older brother I never had, the one I can look up to, and admire and respect," he paused hearing Harry he responded, bringing his attention back to the man before him. "You know that story you told me about the two warriors who slept back to back, guarding each other, their families on either side of them?  The ones who fought for and with each other, always together in times of trouble? Who hunted together, and watched their children grow up together, until the day they died together and their oldest sons took over and continued in their footsteps . . ." Tom paused, seeing Chak realize his point.   "They loved each other, beyond friendship, beyond family, but they were never meant to be lovers, were they?  That's how I see you, Chakotay. That's where I need you.  At my back, watching out for me, while I watch out for you.  That's where we belong, and you know it," Tom finished, mentally keeping his fingers crossed. Chak realized he'd just been rejected and rather well, too.  It didn't even hurt, really.  Damn, Tom was good.  The smile that crossed his face was turning rapidly into laughter. Spirits, he loved the man! Tom watched the expressions fly across Chak's face at warp speed, sighing with relief at the smile, grinning back at him during the laughter. Chak reached out and tackled him to the sand, rolling them over, before putting his arms around Tom.  He rested his head against the other man's shoulder and chuckled.  "I do love you, you know.  Okay.  Better than friends, then," he paused, meeting Tom's eyes and smiling softly.  "But, I still think it could've been glorious," he finished quietly. Tom wrapped his arms around Chak.  "I love you, too.  And I think we would have destroyed each other, not to mention our friendship.  I'd never take that chance.  This means too much to me," he murmured, loosening his hold on the other man slightly. Chak eased away and stood up, brushing the black sand off himself, before giving Tom a hand up.  They stood there for a quiet moment, then brought each other back into an embrace.  Chak sighed and rested his forehead against Tom's.  So be it. Tom took Chak's face in his hands and brought his lips gently to his tattoo, just a soft kiss, then backed away slightly.  "We okay?" he asked, reasonably confident of the answer. "Yeah, we're fine," Chak replied, smiling.  "Run?" he asked almost halfheartedly. "Nah, let's just walk," Tom suggested, not really feeling like a run, either. "Into the sunset?" Chak asked before laughing. "Oh, be quiet.  You are *so* exasperating," Tom muttered in mock annoyance, then joined his friend in laughter, as Harry's echoed through his mind.                       <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Tom ended his narration to find Harry grinning at him, shaking his head. He shrugged.  "And we've been closer than brothers since," he said quietly. "And he still loves you," Harry said. Tom nodded.  "And I still love him. I always will." "And Harry's okay with this," Harry stated, just making sure. "Harry's fine. He knows that it's possible to love more than one person at a time.  And my feelings for Chak don't detract from my feelings for him. That's one of the things I love about Harry; he understands how infinite love can be.  I just wish we could find a way to convince Chak," he sighed. "What's the problem?" Harry asked, not understanding. "Chak is the king of guilt; I'm just the crown prince," Tom stated wryly. "He feels guilty, sometimes, that he loves me as much as he does.  He seems to think love is limited and Harry and I can't convince him otherwise. Kathryn knows how he feels about me and she believes as Harry does. Chak just can't believe he can love two people at the same time, without one of those loves suffering, somehow," Tom concluded. Chakotay sat lost in thought, wondering if it were true for him as well. He thought it just might be, when he carefully considered it.  Not an enviable situation to be in, he mused to himself. "So, you guys were okay," Harry said, getting back on track. "What about you and Harry?  When did it start to go wrong?" he asked, not missing the fleeting pain across Tom's face, remembered pain. Tom took a deep breath and began again.  "The next couple of weeks were the most wonderful . . . and the most horrible," he said, meeting Harry's eyes. "The headaches were hitting both of us hard. Unbeknownst to us, for a while anyway, our bodies were reacting to the switched matter like it was a foreign invader.  We were both going through rejection, but we didn't know it.  During that last couple of days, the headaches became nearly crippling and were followed by more dizzy spells, temporary blindness, temporary paralysis, violent nausea, seizures, all of it. Damn, it was awful.  We knew it was getting really bad, was possibly killing both of us, but we couldn't let it go.  We knew the Doc could fix the physical ailments and we knew we'd lose the link when he returned everything to its rightful owner. Neither one of us could bear that and both of us were willing to die rather than let that happen. It all came to a head, one day.  We had to go through hell, but we found heaven . . ."                     <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Tom and Harry knew no one had missed how awful they looked when they reported for duty.  Tom felt *really* awful. He wanted to tell Chak what the problem was, but couldn't for fear he'd try to fix it, forcibly, if necessary, and he and Harry would lose their connection in the process. The headaches weren't going away, they were getting worse, and seemed magnified by the fact that they were linked. They no longer knew who was having them and who was indirectly, though no less intensely, feeling the pain.  They rarely ventured out of one of their quarters, anymore, except for duty, and were usually in Tom's.  Tom missed his runs with Chak more often than not and regretted it deeply.  He was willing to bet the other man thought he was being avoided because of the feelings he confessed he had for Tom.  And the pilot couldn't set him straight, not without telling him the truth. Harry knew how badly Tom was feeling about Chakotay; he did, too.  But there just didn't seem to be any way to solve this, other than the way that would mean separation for them both.  They got such intense, delirious joy from their connection; neither had been so close to anyone before, misunderstandings were nonexistent, it was incredible. They were wound up so tightly within one another, that Harry could almost remember some of Tom's memories like he had actually been there, living them right along with Tom. Some things were painful, yes, some horribly so, but they wouldn't trade it for anything.  They got such a kick out of it all and dreaming together was the most wonderful thing. Most nights, they were too exhausted and hurting to do more than sleep and they hadn't yet taken that step toward sexual intimacy.  But, in their dreams, there was no pain and they could do whatever they wanted.  Both had momentarily entertained the idea of making love in their dreams, but found themselves in accord once more, that they wanted the waking reality for their first time together. Now they were trying to get to their posts without having to crawl.  They seemed heavily silent to those watching them, but their thoughts were flying to and from each other at a dizzying pace.  So lost were they in their instantaneous communication, that they didn't notice the somber regard coming from the rest of the bridge crew. Kathryn was worried, deeply.  Both of them moved like they were ninety-year-old men and they hadn't looked well for a couple of days.  She herself had dropped by one of their quarters or next door at the other, wherever they happened to be, to check up on them, and almost always found them both sound asleep.  They seemed to sleep an inordinate amount and they *still* looked exhausted.  She had heard similar stories from others. Chakotay entered their quarters with impunity, regularly, and found them as she had, sound asleep, frequently fully clothed and on top of the covers, as though they had barely made it to the bed before passing out.  She looked over at her first officer and saw his normally bright eyes clouded with worry.  She took a quick glance around the bridge and thought that even Tuvok seemed to be frowning. She was startled from her thoughts by a voice stating there were three Kazon ships on long-range sensors.  By the gods, did that harsh rasp belong to *Harry*? "Shields up, red alert," she ordered calmly, hoping that Tom was well enough to fly the ship out of danger. Tom knew exactly where to put Voyager; his mind processed the information Harry's eyes were seeing as quickly as Harry's mind did.  He didn't even notice that Harry wasn't speaking at all, anymore, except to him, internally. The two of them were communicating so quickly and so exactly, to the exclusion of all else, they didn't even hear Kathryn's orders, although they were following them, by sheer chance. They engaged the three Kazon ships and Tom was quickly becoming frustrated that Tuvok couldn't follow his flying and fire the weapons at the most opportune times.  Tuvok was good but he couldn't anticipate, not the way Harry could. Tom knew Harry could do it perfectly, if he only had weapons control. Voyager took a hard blow and the shields were losing strength, in the three against one battle. "Done, go" "got it" "Watch" "perfect" And there was only one left.  Kathryn was stunned.  Harry had overridden the weapons system and transferred control to ops, then had become almost completely silent, along with Tom, the two of them exchanging cryptic words in short barks to one another.  It was like hearing only part of a conversation, she thought, while realizing that Harry was predicting Tom's maneuvers perfectly, firing in total sync with her pilot.  And they weren't done, yet. Harry felt a searing hot pain behind his eyes that almost made him cry out, while Tom was trying to ignore the agony inside his own skull and finish the damned battle so he could lie down and pass out. "You okay?" "I'm fine." "I'm right behind you." "No!" "at my side, where you belong!" "I'll always be there." "Kazon bastards!" "He's starting to piss me off . . ." "Oh, you are so *dead*!" "Tom" "See him" "Starboard" "On it, hang on" "Nice roll" "Get him" "Firing" "Perfect" "Got him" Tom turned around, oblivious to everything but Harry, and saw him leaning over his console, like his legs couldn't support him. "Damn, you're good," Harry said through teeth gritted at the pain, before his head came down to rest on shaking arms. Tom grabbed his own head, groaning loudly.  <*No*!>  "Not now!" Harry felt like his skull was fragmenting and tried to see Tom with eyes that didn't want to cooperate.  His legs gave out as he felt the bridge spinning and he slid to the floor, hearing a scream in his mind seconds before it nearly deafened his ears.  <*TOM*!>  "*NO*!" Tom was on his feet for all of a heartbeat before a crushing wave of dizziness assaulted him and he hit the floor, deadweight, hearing an echo of an agonized scream in his mind, before his vocal cords kicked in and gave voice to the explosion inside his head.  "*HARRY*!" He saw Chak through the red haze in front of his eyes, felt arms come around him, and looked beyond him to see Tuvok pick up Harry. "*Tom*, *don't* *let* *them* . . ." Tom grabbed hold of Chak, violently.  "Don't separate us!" he grated, pleadingly, feeling Harry lose consciousness, a painfully quiet void in his mind, before the haze before him turned black and he followed Harry into nothingness.                      <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> "Oh, damn," Harry said softly, seeing Tom's face pale in the light of the shuttlebay. "When I woke in sickbay, I couldn't feel him," Tom said in a shadow of a whisper and Harry leaned closer in sympathy. "I thought he was dead.  That whatever had gone wrong had finally killed him. I kept waiting to die.  Waiting for my heart to stop beating, my lungs to stop working.  The pain was gone, totally, but so was Harry, and that void filled with another kind of pain.  I couldn't stand it.  Part of me had literally died.  All the happiness and wonder and goodness that had been in me, when he was with me, in my mind, had disappeared.  And while I was planning how to go about killing myself, I heard his voice," Tom paused and sighed, remembering . . .                        <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Through a haze of grief and, for once, emotional, not physical, agony, Tom heard the faintest of whispers.  His name, tossed to him like a lifeline. He grabbed onto it, hard, and turned his head toward the sound.  Oh, damn. <*Harry*>.  He sent out the name like a bubble on the breeze, only to have it burst when he realized Harry couldn't hear him, wouldn't hear him, any longer.  He lay motionless while some part of his soul was ripped away and scalding, bitter tears coursed down his face.  He slowly pulled himself upward, painfully slowly, watching Harry mirror his movements as the other man forced himself upright on his own bed.  Tom saw loss and grief and fear on the face of the man sitting there.  And couldn't feel any of them.  He reached a hand out across that too-great distance and saw Harry's come out to meet it, hesitantly, as if it were a snake waiting to strike.  He curled his fingers up in Harry's and closed his eyes.  Nothing.  Silence.  Dead, empty silence. He heard a whimper and his eyes came open. "You're gone," Harry barely got out, in an anguished whisper.  "Totally gone.  Oh, *Tom*, no.  It's like you're dead, there's nothing in me anymore," he stopped, crying silently, as Tom slid off his biobed.  Harry came off his own and found himself in Tom's arms before his legs gave way and the two of them ended up against the wall, slowly sliding down it, until they were on the floor, wrapped around each other in the only way they had left.  He felt Tom shudder and hot tears on his cheek and didn't know if they were Tom's or his. He didn't care.  Not about anything. Dammit, he felt so lost and alone, so hollow and broken.  He hadn't realized how connected they were to one another until that connection had been stripped away.  Tom's arms tightened around him and Harry found himself wondering what the other man was thinking, feeling.  The knowledge that he'd have to *ask* in order to know, from now on, made him want to scream.  He didn't, he just hung on to Tom even tighter and let the tears work their way out of his shattered heart. Tom was shaking his head.  Harry's had fallen down to rest on his chest and over the top of it he could see the Holodoc, Kathryn, and Tuvok coming toward them.  Chakotay was standing near the Doc's office, looking a lot like Tom felt, at the moment. The pilot looked up at Kathryn like he wasn't sure who she was, as she knelt next to him. He felt . . . He needed . . . Gods, he couldn't . . . Not without Harry. "I can't . . . I just . . . Not without Harry . . . There's no . . . Dammit, I'm so . . ." he didn't bother going on, it didn't make any difference, he didn't care.  He closed his eyes and held Harry tighter. Harry choked on his tears for a second before he was able to speak.  "It hurts, and it's not right.  It's not the way it's supposed to be," he wailed, "and I can't do this, I can't live . . . not in silence . . . not like this . . ." he stopped, shaking as fresh anger and hurt made their way down an already wet face. "We won't . . ." Tom whispered softly, as he cradled Harry in his arms.  It sounded like the promise it was.  He looked at Kathryn, who was understandably horrified at the grim resignation in his eyes. Kathryn shot a glance up at the Doctor, who gave her a little shake of his head.  She understood.  None of them, really, understood how vital Tom and Harry's connection had been. The Doctor had taken care of the switched energy matter and repaired the physical damage, but the psychological damage wasn't curable.  She closed her eyes and sighed under the burden of her command.  What could they possibly do?  She felt a firm hand on her shoulder and looked up into Tuvok's steady gaze.  He helped her to her feet and they headed back to the doorway of the Doctor's office. "Kathryn, what they are going through is similar to a grieving process common among Vulcans whose bondmates have died.  The fact that they are both still alive will prevent the healing process from reaching it's logical, natural conclusion.  There will never be a respite from, or an easing of, the pain of their grief.  They will always remind one another of what each has lost." "I believe there is only one way to 'make it right' for them. And that is to reestablish their connection," Tuvok concluded, leaving no clue on his face or in his eyes as to what he believed Kathryn should do. She looked at Chakotay, whose gaze was on Tom, wondering what he was thinking about all this.  She had become aware of his feelings for the man and had seen, firsthand, the pain Tom's recent withdrawal had had on him. As if feeling the weight of her regard, he glanced back. "We can't leave them like this.  If they hadn't wanted the link, they would have gotten rid of it, first thing.  Now, it seems, they cannot live without it, without each other.  And we may lose them both, if we force them to try and do so," he stated softly, but firmly. Having Tom with Harry was a damned sight better than not having him at all. He'd wondered how long they'd been together, how far their relationship had progressed.  He didn't believe it had become too intimate, yet.  If they had been dealing with pain the likes of which he'd witnessed on the bridge, recently, neither would've felt like it.  And he was certain Tom would've told him if he'd been involved with Harry, or anyone else, after he'd made his feelings known to him. Kathryn nodded.  It seemed the only way.  She looked at Tuvok.  "What do we need to do?"                      <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> "Chak came over and picked up Harry.  Tuvok took hold of me and we beamed to his quarters.  We were both so out of it . . . it was like we were just shutting down.  Neither of us were really aware of anything until Tuvok initiated a mindmeld with each of us," Tom paused and grinned, looking at Harry, then at the Captain and Commander. "He just barely cracked the door open between us and we blew it out of the goddamned wall, as soon as we felt each other," Tom said, intensely, noting Harry's relieved grin. "Harry and I were sitting just a few feet apart, but when I felt his presence in my mind again . . ." Tom drew a deep breath, somewhat startled at how emotional it still made him. "Well, Tuvok actually moved out of the way, withdrew from each of us; it was too intense for him.  He could still feel our progress, the new connections being made, old ones being reestablished.  He kept a watch on us for a couple of hours, just to make sure everything was okay.  He never interfered, not once, even when we made connections that Vulcans simply don't make. We felt each other's joy and everything else . . . Harry could take a breath and I'd feel *my* lungs fill with air.  Tuvok could feel *our* gratitude and delight.  We could actually feel his . . . sense of putting things right . . . almost a satisfaction," Tom stopped when he saw Harry's eyes widen. "You both have a connection with *Tuvok*?" Harry asked, startled. "Just a slight one.  We know when he needs to speak with one or the other of us.  We know when he's in trouble," at this, Tom's face darkened, "and we know when he's . . . when things aren't quite right with him," Tom finished carefully, avoiding their eyes. "I think we'd all like the *details*, Mr. Paris," Janeway said carefully, seeing him flinch.  "I sense a story in that." "Tom, please, Ka . . . Captain," Tom requested, quietly. "Kathryn only uses my last name or rank when she's *really* not happy with me," he met her gaze and grinned.  "Of course, I haven't heard my last name in *such* a long time . . . and I've nearly forgotten what my rank is . . ." he paused, looking at her impishly, before bursting into laughter, joined by Harry. The others were somewhat taken aback.  Their Tom's laughter was not exactly known around the ship; it didn't come so easy to him. "Anyway, I know you want to hear about Tuvok and 'Lann, I'll get to it," he paused, remembering how he and Harry had come together first, later that same night . . .                       <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> How they both managed to get back to Tom's quarters, they really didn't know.  All they knew was that finally they were back together again.  They hadn't said a word aloud to each other yet.  All their communication was subvocal and damn, were they communicating. They fell onto the bed, next to each other, barely touching, eyes closed, and explored.  It was an even stronger link then they'd had, previously, and much deeper.  Harry could feel Tom working his way around his mind, absorbing and imprinting every conceivable piece of information on his own circuits.  Harry felt touches, almost like Tom was asking permission to go into certain areas of his memory and Harry relaxed, reached out, and let him in. Tom groaned.  Gods, it was almost too much to handle. Like living Harry's life at warp speed, right along with him. He heard Harry's surprise at remembering things long thought lost or forgotten.  Tom sighed, just taking it all in, until he got to present time.  Drawing a deep breath, he turned to look at Harry.  So beautiful.  He felt Harry asking permission to do the same, and part of him screamed <*No*>.  Harry's eyes widened and he reached over to Tom, bringing the other man into the safe haven of his embrace, nonverbally soothing his fears, sending constant reassurance.  It was time to speak up, literally. "You have nothing to be afraid of," Harry started softly, letting Tom hide in his arms, even though it was more illusion than reality.  Nothing could be kept hidden, not any longer.  "Trust me, please, Tom," he paused as he heard Tom clearly send at the same time a small part of him thought .  This was new.  Before, only the top, most obvious, surface thoughts had made themselves known.  Now, all thoughts on all levels were vying for attention simultaneously.  It was going to take some getting used to. "It will change nothing, you know.  It won't change how I feel about you, or think about you.  It won't change how much I need you . . . or want you," he paused, feeling Tom still the turmoil inside his mind.  "And it won't change how much I love you," Harry stopped again, startled, feeling Tom's mind pull away from him, curling around itself protectively, distracting dead ends, and confusing paths setting themselves up to deliberately discourage Harry.  There must be something major in there he *really* doesn't want me anywhere near, Harry thought, then felt awful when Tom groaned on many levels, including vocally. Harry sighed.  What to do...what to do.  He lay quietly, stroking Tom's back, feeling the other man quivering slightly. It was not how he wanted him to quiver, that much was certain.  Tom's soft, mental query came up at that, so Harry sent him the flood of lust and longing and need and want that he'd been carrying around for the last few weeks.  He held nothing back, no part of his desire was hidden, as he let Tom into his most private wishes and thoughts, his deepest and, in some cases, darkest, fantasies. All of it.  He felt Tom shiver and smiled.  That was the kind of quiver he wanted.   Harry felt that part of Tom's mind he was so afraid of letting him see and skirted the perimeter.  The control it required was incredible, he thought, as he let his mind caress Tom's, working his way deeply into the dark regions as carefully as if he were physically entering the other man's body.  He started momentarily, as he realized some paths were being established for him to follow, so he did, taking care to stay where Tom wanted him and not go veering off.  He kept up the constant mental touches and strokes, feeling Tom's tense body slowly relax into his, as his hands continued the physical caressing of his back and neck and hair. He kept his voice subvocally in a whisper, soft and soothing, as he followed Tom's memory backward, pre-Voyager.  He picked up that the other man was wanting to get the worst out of the way first and let him know that that was completely all right with him. He debated keeping part of himself detached when it started getting painful, but was afraid Tom might sense it as rejection, even though a shaky thought assured him otherwise.  He felt Tom's horror and fear and threw a soft, gentle blanket of warmth and love over him, letting him know what wasn't his fault and sending him compassion and regret for what was.   Tom heard and felt them as well as Harry's anger, not at him, but at the circumstances in his life that had been so painful and hard. He felt Harry's rage at his father's harsh words and indifference and saw the flashback-reminder of Harry's parents, with the knowledge, sure and swift, of how a childhood was supposed to be.  He let Harry go back as far as he could remember, then brought him forward, rather abruptly, to the day Kathryn had offered him a second chance. Harry was shaken by the knowledge that even with all the painful and difficult times since entering the Delta Quadrant, these were still the happiest years of Tom's life.  He was humbled by the fact that he figured so prominently in Tom's more pleasant memories and was so happy to learn how important his friendship was to Tom.  He felt the man's love, on many levels, for Chakotay, and briefly wondered if Tom was regretting his missed chance with him, until he saw the imagined aftermath of a hypothetical relationship with the Commander.  He sighed.  It wouldn't have been pretty, that was for damned sure.  He heard Tom's amusement at the thought and lightly kissed the top of his head.  He felt Tom's surge of warmth and love, but underlying it all was a feeling of finality and dread, now that Harry knew all there was to know.  Harry shook his head.  The beautiful, blond idiot *still* didn't get it, did he? He heard Tom's snort and felt the man shake with laughter, until it burst out of him and he looked up at Harry, laughing so hard that tears were coming down his cheeks. "No, I guess I don't, at that," Tom tried to say, before the near-hysterical laughter of release and relief caught him again and he wiped his eyes. Harry rolled his eyes before he rolled them over, putting himself on top, and held Tom's wrists over his head, glaring at him to get his attention. He bent his head and lightly licked the tears away, feeling Tom's surprise, then the soft sigh of pleasure.  He traced golden eyebrows with his tongue, smoothing them, then dropped light kisses onto the other man's cheeks, nose and, finally, his mouth.   he sent quietly, doubly glad he didn't have to stop kissing the man to tell him that.   he thought gently as he teased Tom's mouth open and kissed him deeply, feeling and hearing the heart beneath his own leap with delight.    He let his tongue roll over Tom's and opened that part of his mind, wide, as he opened his eyes.   Tom's eyes rounded in astonishment when he caught what Harry had thrown at him. He was so surprised, he actually stopped kissing Harry, who moved back, to enjoy the torrent of emotions, both on Tom's face, as well as in his mind. Harry groaned as his feelings were returned, and then some. He felt everything, and was grateful for the honesty of Tom's emotions.  Even including some envy, on Tom's part, for the normalcy of Harry's life, until the Delta Quadrant, anyway. Fear, of rejection.  Delight and gratitude for Harry loving him. Regret for mistakes long ago made. Relief that Harry was still there and hadn't left scorchmarks on the carpet, getting away from him.  He snorted.  Damn, Tom's sense of humor surfaced at the oddest times.  He even felt Tom's awe and pleasure in his happiness, for making Harry laugh.  And Tom's appreciation for his physical beauty and the gentleness of his spirit.   he thought before Tom removed his wrists from Harry's grasp and ran them gently through his hair, while soft lips reclaimed his own.   Harry heard the question, barely asked, as though the answer was something to be feared. Harry felt Tom's mouth shaking against his own, an instant before the rest of him began doing the same.  He rolled them to their sides to let Tom bury his face in his neck and held him, feeling the sobs rack the gorgeous body, as he wrapped his legs around his love and coiled his mind protectively around his. He felt Tom's soft gasp when Harry moved through him, feeling the need to hold and comfort, in Harry, answering the desperate need in him, to be held and comforted.   Tom had always wondered how many of the people in his life who'd said they loved him had actually meant it.  With Harry, there was no doubt.  All he felt was love, mixed in with a wonderful amount of lust and want and need. His breathing calmed as Harry affirmed everything Tom had picked up from him. Harry thought as Tom's lips kissed his neck, before Tom moved over him, brown eyes meeting blue.  Harry'd never known blue eyes could smolder, but Tom's were.  He caught Tom's slight smirk at that observation before lips touched his, warm, soft.  He felt himself melting into the bed, not knowing anything could feel so good.  Damn, he was glad they'd waited.  He reached out, just enough to know how much Tom wanted this, and found his own desire well-matched by the passionate, wonderful man above him. Tom leaned into Harry, sighed as the man moved around and through him. He opened Harry's mouth under his and knew he was quickly losing the shaky grasp he had on his self-control.  He heard Harry's thought of and grinned against his lover's lips.  Tom moved off slightly to look at the man beneath him. Breathtaking.  He brushed Harry's hair out of his eyes and became almost mesmerized by the sight of the blackness covering his fingers.  The contrast was so perfectly defined between them, physically, and almost nonexistent on the mental level.  He closed his eyes to concentrate for a moment and imagined his hands touching Harry, everywhere. Caressing him softly, feeling his pulse leap at certain touches in certain places.  He felt Harry's wonder and almost laughed at his delight.  Harry and wonder went together so well.  He heard Harry's groan and moved his hands physically to get rid of the other man's clothing, while never stopping the mental strokes on his body.  He finally got Harry naked and paused to enjoy the view.  Oh, my. Harry's eyes focused suddenly in concern.  He heard his lover's amusement and a feeling almost like awe . . . Tom nodded, shivering.   Harry burst into laughter, pulling Tom down for another kiss. he thought, then felt Tom's hands moving with his own to get his lover's clothes off.  Soon, skin was caressing skin and it was nearly too much for both of them. Tom groaned internally as his heart sped up, nearly cramping in his chest, before he lowered his head to lick his way down Harry's neck, while his love fastened his teeth gently into his earlobe, then licked the back of it.  He moved lower quickly, nipping Harry's ribs down his chest on one side, then slowly swirled his tongue into the man's navel, breathing on it hotly, and nuzzling it with his nose.  He started back up the other side, flicking his tongue back and forth on Harry's chest until the image flashed in his mind of him sucking Harry's nipples. He decided a little direction wasn't a bad thing and gently licked first one, then the other, before letting his mouth cover the first, sucking lightly, and Harry arched completely off the bed, gasping. he thought before returning to the delicious task at hand. Circling the other nipple with his tongue, he nibbled it with his teeth, feeling Harry's heartbeat work itself into near-dangerous territory, before he backed off a little and simply stroked his lover. Harry believed truer words were never thought, than those that came from Tom's mind. Hell, he couldn't believe they were going to need a damned spotter to make love with each other.  He let his own hands roam over Tom's body and caught the pictures of where and how his lover liked to be touched.  He licked over Tom's pulse in his throat, feeling it quicken even more, before working his hands down the other man's back and easing over his ass.  Harry noticed that the physical stimulation seemed to make the mental connection almost secondary to what their bodies were experiencing. This could be a very good thing, at least until they learned how to control it all a little better. Tom caught Harry's thought and agreed as he kept stroking the man. He felt so tired and knew Harry was feeling the same.  He heard the question in his mind.    No contest.   Harry had to grin.  All right, then.  He didn't want to wait any longer, either.  He lightly drew his fingers up and down Tom's back, kneading the shoulders at times, tracing soft patterns down the backbone, at others.  He felt Tom relax into him and moved his legs up to encircle the man, and brought a tentative hand down to Tom's erection.   he thought as he followed his lover's cock with his fingers, from root to head. He sped up slightly, settling his fingers a little more firmly around Tom's hardness.  He could feel the wetness at the head and stroked it down the sides, holding Tom tighter when the man started to shake.  Tom raised off him, just a little, to snag a tube from a nearby drawer before his slick, gentle fingers began exploring the entrance to his body. Tom's eyes were so intense; his mind nearly overloading into a total whiteout.  Harry realized that Tom had deliberately opened up everything, to feel it all at once, on every possible level.  Oh, damn.  The thought briefly flitted through his mind that maybe he should stop, when Tom eased another finger into him, thrusting both of them in and out of him, and he slowly shook his head.  No stopping.   Tom felt Harry's hand on more than just his cock and it was close to drowning him, the incredible sensation that rolled him like a wave.  It felt like Harry had tapped into the centers of his mind that controlled arousal and pleasure and was directly touching them, without even needing his body for a conduit.  He moved his fingers inside Harry, stroking him, feeling the man's anticipation as if it were his own.  He added a third finger and felt what he was doing to his lover as he felt his body react to what Harry was doing to him. Damn, the man had great hands, he sighed, catching Harry's slight smile as he caught Tom's thought.  He wondered who had made the decision that he would take Harry first, but didn't bother wondering about it anymore as he moved upward slightly to let Harry bring his knees toward his chest, and removed his fingers, hushing Harry's silent protest with a kiss.  He placed his lubricated cock just outside of his lover's body and let himself slowly enter, stopping when he felt Harry tense.     After a breath, Harry relaxed a little and Tom sank into his heat a little further.   He felt Harry clench around him, and whimpered. He let Harry's chaotic thoughts run rampant in his mind, checking to see that he was okay.   He pulled back a little, and felt Harry's slight panic, an instinctive reaction, and he let his lover know he wasn't going anywhere.  He slid back into that wonderfully slick warmth and Harry relaxed around him, letting him slide all the way in.  He saw Harry's eyes fill and leaned down to kiss him tenderly, feeling the depth of emotion and all the things neither of them could find the words to say. Every part of Harry was quivering like a plucked string as Tom moved gently in and out of his body.  Damn, what a connection.  The impact of what they were doing to each other hit Harry several times over; their minds were making love as intensely as their bodies were.  He wondered if they'd even need to use their physical selves, in the future, to love one another with. He caught Tom's hedonistic thought that every part of them should get into the act, every possible time, although he also picked up Tom's curiosity in trying to love each other without one of them ever laying a hand on the other. He heard Tom wonder if he wanted Tom to bring him off with his hand and sent back an image of him fucking his lover through the floor to the deck below them.  Ohh, that was a delightful shudder.  He caught Tom's eyes and nearly combusted in the heat within them.   Tom sped up in reaction to that particular picture and mentally stroked Harry all over, everywhere, until his lover's shaking was continuous.  He heard Harry's pleasure and hoped one couldn't die from ecstasy, while he moved a little harder into the incredible heat that was Harry.  He felt nails lightly claw his back and thigh, but saw Harry's hands dug into the sheets.  Seeing the red marks on his thigh, made by imagined fingernails, gave him an idea.  It was kind of difficult to reach Harry without putting too much weight on him, so he let his mouth touch him as his hands were and saw marks forming along Harry's neck as the man's back arched under him. Soon he was completely thrown to feel teeth worrying his own throat and, as Harry hit that spot on the back of his neck, he lost it.  Forcefully thrusting into his lover's body, he still took care to make sure it wasn't too much for him. It came close to being unbearably intense, but Harry didn't want him to stop.  He felt Harry tighten around him, felt a hot tongue licking his ear, felt Harry's mouth devour his own, and felt himself begin the countdown to the imminent explosion building within him. Every nerve he possessed was on fire and his thoughts were churning with the images being thrown back and forth between the two of them.  He felt walls in his own mind melting in the heat they were generating together and heard Harry cry out with his own voice.  The coil of his climax tightened up within him and, when Harry wrapped himself up in that coil, it became too much for his system to handle. The scream that followed damned near tore his vocal cords out, as he violently burst wide open inside Harry, feeling his heart nearly give way under the onslaught.  He filled Harry again and again and, as everything that was Harry totally obliterated the last bit of remaining resistance within him, he felt the indescribable sensation of his mind climaxing, as well, before his overloaded body shut down and he collapsed onto his lover's chest, unconscious. Harry couldn't have moved if the room was on fire. He'd felt what went through Tom at warp ten, ohh, *damn* had he felt that.  He dimly realized that he had come, too, and had no memory of it at all.  Reaching out, very carefully, to make sure that his lover was all right, he felt a fuzzy acknowledgement in Tom's mind of Harry's presence, at one of the deeper levels that was still autonomously functioning. Tom was still down for the count, but it was so strange.  He could feel Harry in his mind, working carefully through the parts that were operating, yet knew he was totally unconscious.  Which meant he wasn't, right?  If he was aware of his current state of unawareness, then he was still aware. His mind worked the problem, while he became cognizant of the fact that *Harry* was in there, slowly waking up the parts of him that had no interest in anything but sleep just this side of being catatonic.  He could feel his lover threading through him, lightly nudging him into full consciousness, bringing his body rhythms up to normal speeds, checking for any damage as he went.  This was too amazing, he thought, while more and more of him came into wakefulness. Harry sensed the direction Tom's thoughts were going.  He was fascinated by this.  He could follow all of his lover's self-diagnostics, what part of his mind controlled what, everything.  He could feel Tom's somewhat clumsy attempts to follow him and led the man through his own mind, showing him how to regulate all of his body's systems.  He caught that Tom was coming fully awake and moved off slightly, only to have an arm shoot out and bring him back into Tom's side. Tom thought softly, as his mind processed Harry's physical nearness and bodily contact.   Harry smiled and saw the echo of his smile on Tom's face, just before his lover's eyes slowly opened.   he thought with some effort, feeling Tom's soothing presence and the faint suggestion that there were times when words weren't necessary.  This was certainly one of those times, he believed, as he came back into his lover's arms.  He caught a faint thought of and both of them broke into tired laughter.   he sent back, only half kidding.  He felt his mind's activity slow down and realized sleep was trying to overtake him. Tom felt Harry's exhaustion and let their minds encircle each other's as they drifted into sleep, together.                      <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Tom gradually came back to his surroundings in the shuttlebay, to see his counterpart's crew looking at him with everything from concern to bemusement.  He must have really been out of it for a moment there.  Even the memory was still incredibly intense, he thought, as he picked up another realization.  His link with Harry seemed to be expanding to accommodate the greater distance, so he 'listened in' and knew what Harry was doing. "Harry's in sickbay, telling your Tom pretty much what I'm telling you. He's filling him in on our first time together," he paused, taking a deep breath.  "His mind is including the details he's deliberately *not* telling your Tom," he smiled, a little apologetically.  "Sorry, it got rather . . . intense, there, for a moment," he concluded, running shaky hands through his hair, exhaling forcefully, trying to bring himself back to the subject at hand. He picked up something else from Harry.  Oh, no, not again. Dammit, Chak . . . "Tom, what's wrong?" Harry asked, seeing the cringe on the man's face. "Harry's worried about Chak," Tom began, then paused, wondering how to explain this.  "Chak, at the moment, has a Tom who never fell in love with a Harry.  And he's feeling guilty as hell for how that makes him feel. The wondering 'what might've been'.  He's beating himself up for it, big time, and Harry's worried.  Chak and I are going to have a little talk when I get back," Tom stated darkly, "and he's not going to like it one bit.  Dammit, why can't that man get over it? Why the hell can't he realize his feelings for me don't disturb anyone but *him*?  He isn't hurting anyone . . . except himself, of course," Tom finished, rubbing agitated hands over his face, and groaned with exasperation. "Sorry," he apologized, holding a hand up.  "It's not your problem, but it just drives me *nuts*," he sighed, not seeing the emotions flying over the face of the Commander. "Anyway, about Tuvok and B'Elanna . . ." he started, wondering where to begin.  "Computer, forward to selection Tuvok 'A', play through," he paused, letting the strains of the Vulcan's harp drift through the shuttlebay. Tom tried to meet Torres' eyes, but she was busy looking at something nonexistent on the floor. He sighed. "Tuvok and 'Lann's coming together was nearly as painful, for them, as mine and Harry's was for us," he began.  "I think it all started when some of us went on an away mission, to one of the moons orbiting Baladix.  It was one of those ever popular mineral warehouses and, of course, slightly unstable, a maze of passageways.  Chak and I went one way and 'Lann and Tuvok went the other . . .                       <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Chak was spending more time checking on Tom than he was the tricorder in his hand.  Tom looked at him fondly; he understood.  He and Harry had been back on duty for about a week, now, and were still the buzz of the ship. All they had really wanted was to burrow into one another and hide for a few months but so many people had come to see how they were doing, that they had ventured back into the swing of things sooner than some expected them to.  It had been a good thing, too.  They hadn't realized how worried everyone had been until they saw the relief when they rejoined the ranks of the living.  They had spent the last couple of days separately making the rounds, visiting and talking with friends and 'family', reassuring everyone that they were okay, better than, even. Tom had been with Chak a lot, trying to ease the tension and concern, getting their relationship back in order, repairing what needed to be mended. Tom knew Chak had been going out of his mind, during those few days before he and Harry had collapsed.  The pilot sighed inwardly.  He knew he was going to be riding the guilt-express for a long time over that one.   Harry had understood Tom's need to reconnect with Chakotay.  Harry knew Tom loved Chak; it didn't bother him. He also knew that Tom loved him, adored him, couldn't live without him. Tom knew Harry would be okay with his and Chakotay's friendship, even if Harry *wasn't* permanently residing in his head.  It's just the way Harry was.  And Tom loved him for it.  It was so perfect, it scared him sometimes. Like the way he was a little scared right now.  This was the first time he and Harry had been apart from each other, since their rejoining.  Janeway had had some misgivings about separating them so soon, but they felt it was time.  It seemed to be going okay; the link was tenuous, but Harry's presence was firmly in his mind and Tom could sense him even though he couldn't hear him.    Tom caught another side-long glance from Chak and stopped walking. "Listen to me," he started softly, getting the older man's complete attention instantly.  "I'm fine. I am.  I know it was unpleasant and frightening for you and I'm sorry.  Chak, I wouldn't hurt you for the world.  I hope you know that," Tom stopped when he found his arms filled with the other man. He wrapped his own around his friend and Chakotay found his voice. "You didn't hurt me. Yes, you scared the hell out of me but I know you didn't mean to.  You and Harry *had* to be together or we would have lost you both.  I know that.  He makes you happy, absurdly, deliriously happy. And I love you enough to be happy for you, for both of you.  I'd rather have you with him than not around at all, Tom.  I couldn't take that.  I just want you to be okay," Chakotay concluded, shuddering at the memory of Tom's collapse on the bridge, shaking hands holding his head as though to keep it from exploding, just before the pilot hit the floor. And then that scream, gods.  Sometimes he still heard it in his dreams, the scream that Harry started and Tom finished, echoing throughout the bridge.  Even having Tom with him forever, wasn't worth having that happen again. Tom pulled back and took Chak's face in his hands. Beautiful, he thought, as he brought his lips to the man's forehead and kissed the tattoo.   Chak relaxed into Tom's hands and he smiled, wrapping his own hands around his friend's wrists.  His smile rapidly became a frown, as the tremors beneath his feet registered and hunks of rock came raining down on them. He grabbed Tom and without thinking, pinned him against the wall with his body, covering their heads with his arms, until the downpour of rock and dust ceased. Tom coughed, turning around inside Chakotay's arms and wiping the dust out of his eyes.  He apprehensively checked the ceiling of the tunnel, waiting for another pleasant surprise, when he met Chak's eyes. "Hey, look at me. You okay?" he asked, as Chak shivered. "Buried alive . . . worst fear," he muttered, as Tom's arm came around his shoulder. "Didn't happen, you're okay . . ." Tom trailed off before a horrified look came over his face.  "Buried alive . . . oh, shit, *Tuvok and B'Elanna*!" And with that, he was tearing off down the passageway, a somewhat dazed Chakotay right on his heels.                      <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> The first thing B'Elanna became aware of was Tuvok's hand on her head, before searing pain tore through her, bad enough to force a slight cry out from between dusty lips. "Kahles," she moaned, trying to get up, but Tuvok's hand restrained her. "Do not attempt to move, B'Elanna," he said in a low voice.   She quickly caught on to what the problem was.  "How much of the ceiling am I buried under?" she gasped out, breathing becoming difficult in the dust-filled air. "Most of it," Tuvok replied, as B'Elanna laughed, then cried out sharply. "I believe you have a couple of broken ribs; I would advise against laughter," he cautioned. "Then, don't make jokes, if I can't laugh at them," she rasped, finally figuring out that she was buried from midchest, down.  Some of the rocks must have hit her head; she could feel blood slowing trickling down her forehead. She noticed green smears on Tuvok's hands and it took her a moment to realize it was *his* blood.  Both of her arms were free and she reached out for one of his hands, feeling surprised when he actually took it.  The dizziness was making her nauseous. "You can't get me out of here, can you?" she asked, knowing somehow that he had already removed all the rocks he was able to. "No, I regret that I cannot.  You are buried in the middle of the passageway," he informed her. "I cannot make contact with Voyager, at the moment, and I believe I will not be able to until the tunnel has been cleared." "And you can't clear the tunnel because . . ." she trailed off, wanting him to keep talking to her, give her something to focus on, so her mind wouldn't shut down.  She was too afraid she wouldn't wake up again if that happened. "You have three large rocks pinning you down.  I alone cannot remove any one of them, without the other two falling on you," he paused, as another breath made her gasp with pain, her eyes watering. "So, what do we do?" she asked, knowing his calm was due to his Vulcan heritage, but also aware that he must know something that would get them out of here. "We wait.  Chakotay and Tom are behind us.  If they are uninjured, they will be coming to help us," he barely finished before a muffled banging sound could be heard, from the other side of the rockpile. "It seems they're uninjured," B'Elanna groaned out.  She was fighting panic and pain but feared it was a losing battle. She didn't have the strength to do both. "Tuvok, I can't do this," she gasped, as agony shot through her legs, into her back, making tears come from her eyes. She gritted her teeth, trying not to scream, shaking, gripping Tuvok's hand so tightly, it was a wonder she didn't crack it. He pulled his hand out of her grasp and she was about to protest, when she felt both of his hands on her face.   "I believe I can help, if you will allow it," he offered. Anything was better than this, she thought, and she nodded, tensely. B'Elanna felt more than heard his voice, low and calm, and relaxed a little.  She trusted him; he wouldn't hurt her.  A pleasant warmth flooded her and, for an instant, she panicked, fighting it, until she realized it was part of the help he was giving her, and let herself ride along with it. He was there, with her, understanding her fear, while making her see that there was no reason for it; everything was going to be fine. The pain was rapidly moving from agonizing to bearable to nonexistent, as he stopped it from reaching her, taking it upon himself.  The discomfort was considerable, but he dealt with it, soothing her fear at the same time. Part of him was aware that Chakotay and Tom were making rapid progress and he believed he was grateful.   B'Elanna knew they were close to getting them both out; it didn't worry her, anymore, that she was trapped.  She sensed Tuvok's calm; it called to her, something she'd never experienced before in her life.  She dimly heard voices, the crackle of a commbadge, then felt the transporters lock onto her, but Tuvok still didn't release her until she was in sickbay under the Holodoc's care.  She had no time to wonder about it as she easily passed into a medically induced state of blissful unconsciousness.                     <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Torres snorted, finally looking at Tom.  "That's *it*?" she asked in frustrated disbelief. "No," he replied calmly, "that's not *it*, at all.  The accident was just the beginning.  They didn't speak much about it afterward, from what 'Lann told me. She wasn't comfortable talking to him about it.  But she did start seeing him for help when she lost her temper and he showed her ways to calm down when she was frustrated or angry.  It helped her, a lot. She could focus on the solution to a problem, without her emotional state distracting her from *finding* the solution. She started seeing things through the eyes of other people, understanding when they did things certain ways, even when it wasn't *her* way.  She came more tolerant, patient, easier to work with, and a lot of the credit was Tuvok's.  And she knew it.  And when the time came that he needed *her* help, she jumped right in to give it to him . . .                    <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Kes had just regained consciousness and the Holodoc was tending to her. She seemed shaky, a little ill, but otherwise okay.  The Lagrozian orb they'd just stumbled upon had been responsible, but if it weren't for her empathic abilities, it wouldn't have affected her at all.  The device was designed to communicate with its own people, a race of telepaths, giving those who shared the trait, or part of it, the whole of their society, history, and culture in one fell swoop.  It had been left as a beacon to other Lagrozians, to inform them that this colony had moved when the planet had become unstable, as well as giving their intended destination. It had knocked Kes unconscious and it would be some time before the long-term effects were fully known.  Kes, of course, wasn't concerned for herself; she felt much better, now.  But, she told B'Elanna how emotional the Lagrozians were, more so, *much* more so, than humans or Ocampans.  She was worried about Tuvok.  When she stopped trying to fight the Orb's communicating with her, it went much faster, and easier.  She knew that Tuvok was probably still fighting, to keep the overwhelmingly emotional download at bay.  Kes had barely finished the thought before B'Elanna raced out of sickbay, heading to Tuvok's quarters. He had actually *locked* them?  She couldn't believe it. Who locked their doors anymore?  B'Elanna was about to override it, when it opened and a rather pale Harry stood there, looking worried. "What are you doing here?" she asked him. "Tuvok, something's wrong with him. I don't know what. Tom's on duty; he can feel it, too.  I can't help Tuvok and he refuses to go to sickbay. B'Elanna, why are you here?" She told him about Kes, and the fact that their friend was under an emotional, telepathic attack, of sorts, that he wouldn't let himself give in to, in order to process the information.  Leaving the vicinity wasn't possible; Kes's heart had stopped when they tried to do that.  There was nothing to do but let it take its course, which Tuvok's control wouldn't allow.  B'Elanna told Harry to leave; she had an idea, but Tuvok wouldn't want an audience for this.  In spite of his relaxing considerably around the crew, he was still a very private individual. Harry nodded, having some idea of what B'Elanna was planning, and left. Being in the room with the Vulcan was difficult for him; the distant connection between them was stronger and Tuvok's fight for control was painful for Harry, and through Harry, Tom. B'Elanna moved cautiously into Tuvok's quarters.  Beautiful, peaceful, spartan.  She'd been here a lot to seek his help and guidance.  Now, he needed hers. He was lying on the bed, dressed in casual slacks, no shirt, stiff as a board.  She put a light hand on his shoulder, not wanting to startle him, and his eyes flew open.  He looked distressed, for Tuvok, the constant battle waging within him, making him shake under her hand. "You should not be here," he rasped.  "I am not in control of myself, and I would not wish to harm you." "You won't hurt me, and I'm here to help." "You cannot help me, B'Elanna . . ." "Yes, I can," she interrupted.  "I want you to mind-meld with me, like you did on Baladix.  *Yes*," she growled as he shook his head, before he interrupted her. "No, the intense emotions may prove to be too much for you." "Tuvok, I'm a *Klingon* for Kahles' sake, I can handle them better than you can!  Quit arguing with me and do it.  Feed the emotions through to me, you process the rest of the Lagrozian's information, and we'll be done with this in no time.  Kes said it's fast and easy if you don't fight it.  Quit fighting it, and me, and let me help you, please," she finished softly, sighing with relief at his tired nod. His warm hands came to touch her face and she closed her eyes.  It was so much like the last time, but now he was the one in pain, and she the only one who could ease it.  She felt the difference almost immediately.  Wow. These people were beyond Klingons when it came to intense, that was for sure.  She reached out toward Tuvok, feeling something odd.  Almost like gratitude, but coming from him.  Her eyes flew open and met his, narrowing as she felt him try to pull back.  She held on to him, hard.  Her hands came up to cover his and he closed his eyes again, relaxing.   Kes was right; it didn't take long, when you just let it happen. Soon the onslaught eased and B'Elanna picked up from Tuvok something like relief, before his hands fell back onto the bed.  She didn't let go, just held onto them, offering strength and support until he got his bearings back.   Moving carefully, he sat up next to her, leaving his hands in hers, oddly. He looked at her seriously for a moment and she wondered how she ever could have thought him cold. "Were I human, I would be profoundly grateful for what you have done for me, B'Elanna." Good enough.  "You're welcome, Tuvok," she said softly, before a beaming smile lit her face.                      <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Tom waited.  Torres hadn't said a word since he'd finished; she was looking rather shocked.  Tuvok seemed thoughtful, and Harry, the Captain, and the Commander also appeared slightly stunned. "That was the second major incident," Tom started in again, as B'Elanna's eyes flew to meet his.  "The third, was Vorik's Ponn Farr.  That whole thing was your basic nightmare . . ." He didn't get to finish before B'Elanna rounded on him, fury and humiliation in her eyes. "Thank you, very much!" she hissed loudly at him, to his astonishment. "What's wrong?" "It wasn't wonderful for me either, you know . . ." "B'Elanna, I'm sorry, I know . . ." "Just because I came after you in a Klingon-Vulcan mating frenzy down on that damned planet . . ." "Wait a minute . . ." "No, dammit, *you* wait a minute . . ." "B'Elanna, you, I mean 'Lann, didn't come after me. And we weren't on a planet, we were on Voyager." "What?!?" Tom ran his hands through his hair for the umpteenth time. "Listen to me. I was with Harry, remember?" he said loudly. "B'Elanna didn't come after me, for crying out loud, she went after *Tuvok*!" Silence reigned.  Tom sighed, took a deep breath, and began again, more gently, at seeing the look on her face. "Vorik's Ponn Farr hit him hard and he had no way to deal with it, right? Okay, he came after you, and our B'Elanna, figuring that you would be the most logical one for him to mate with, right?  Our B'Elanna went into a 'Klingon-Vulcan mating frenzy' and went to Tuvok for help.  Vorik went after her, challenged Tuvok, who knew the guy couldn't take him, and basically let himself be used as a punching bag for twenty minutes until Vorik exhausted himself, burning himself, and the fever, out in the process.  He was in a coma for three days, in sickbay.  Tuvok and B'Elanna went to Tuvok's quarters and were in . . . seclusion for the next few days," he ended, B'Elanna dead-quiet, her face flaming. "And because both of us are somewhat connected to Tuvok, it was kind of hard on me and Harry, too.  We couldn't even be in the same *room* together for those few days, without practically killing one another.  We tried to spend one night together, just the first one, and ended up in sickbay until the ribs healed. I moved in with Chak, who was in heaven with that.  He and I slept together.  Well," he amended, seeing Harry's raised eyebrow, before continuing his rant, "we didn't *sleep* together, Harry, we just *slept* together.  My Harry made it about as hard as he could, thinking all sorts of wonderful, fantastic thoughts at me all damned night long, driving me out of my fucking skull, with Chakotay sleeping right there next to me. I finally told him, if he didn't knock it the hell off, I'd jump Chak. Sheesh!" he finished, glaring at Harry and ignoring the flushed look on Chakotay's face, before meeting B'Elanna's wide eyes again. "B'Elanna, look," he sighed, not knowing what to tell these people, so different from his own, while still so damned much alike.  "Guys, it's like this, okay?" he began, including everyone, getting their attention.  "I'm not saying this is how it should be for *you*.  This is just how it is for *us*.  I love Harry, Harry loves me. Yes, Chak and I are crazy about each other, as well as being the best of friends.  He loves Kath, who will be making him a father in about seven and a half months, if I'm right, and I probably am.  And Tuvok and B'Elanna are together, and she's going to have his child in about four months.  And he adores her, and she adores him. *Yes*," Tom said, nodding emphatically, as B'Elanna shook her head. "He *can't*, he's a *Vulcan*," she said, and Tom caught the forlorn sound in her voice.  No one else had, he was certain. "He *does*," Tom replied intently.  "I went looking for him once, after it all happened; they were *together* then, officially a couple.  I found them on the holodeck, a sandy bank by a Vulcan river and she was asleep with her head on his thigh, muttering about engineering in her dreams, tossing and turning a little.  And I swear to the gods, he looked up at me and said, 'Even at rest, she is in motion . . . Were I human, I would find it . . . endearing'," Tom said softly, just like Tuvok had said it to him at the time.   "He *does* adore her, and she, him. They round each other off beautifully. One's strength is the other's weakness and they are perfectly suited for one another.  But that's our ship, our crew, not yours.  I don't expect Harry and Tom to get together when he gets back, or you and Tuvok, or Chakotay and your Captain.  We've paired off the way we have because the circumstances aligned themselves like that, for us.  None of these things happened to you, or if they did, they happened a lot differently. B'Elanna, that doesn't mean you have to go along as we are, okay?" he asked, seriously, meeting all the pairs of eyes staring at him, making sure they got it.  His gaze lingered on Chak, and Harry.  Gods only knew what Tom was going to have to deal with, when he returned to this universe. Tom looked at Harry, who still had questions in his eyes. Beautiful eyes. He'd always thought so.  He couldn't help but wonder if Harry and Tom would even try.  He'd be willing to bet that the Commander would get there first, though. Tom would have recognized that look of determination anywhere; he'd seen it often enough on the face of his own Chak. Chakotay was enthralled.  All he could do was wonder how the hell his counterpart had managed to keep his hands off Tom for those days they had shared a bed together.  He didn't think Harry would make any moves, when their own Tom returned, save those of friendship.  He and B'Elanna were close, maybe too close, to allow that.  But why, then, was B'Elanna so distraught about 'Lann's involvement with Tuvok?  A mystery, there.  She'd tell him if she wanted him to know, that was certain, so he put it out of his mind. Kathryn.  Spirits, that his counterpart should be having a child with her. Fatherhood.  It was overwhelming.  He knew that if he and Tom got together, it was likely not going to be possible for them.  Was the trade worth it?  He surreptitiously studied the man. Attractive, yes. Brilliant, yes. Passionate, well, he could only dream but, he thought, yes.  Would it be disastrous for them?  Would they forge a friendship, only to lose it if the relationship didn't work out? Would it be worth it?  He dragged his thoughts off that particular road when he became aware of Tom's question to Harry. "What else?  Come on, I know that look, no matter which Harry you are. Give," Tom grinned, and it was matched by Harry. "I bet they won't even ask, but I'm dying to know.  How did Kathryn and Chak get together?" Tom laughed out loud, like it was the funniest thing he'd heard in ages. "Oh, Harry.  They are the only ones whose relationship wasn't fraught with pain and peril.  They fell in love the old-fashioned way.  A few dates, here, some long walks, there.  You know, the usual drill.  Everyone was pulling for it to happen, for them.  It took a while; they treaded with the utmost caution, but they finally, *finally* fell in love.  They had just about *always* had feelings for one another, it just took some time for them both to let their guards down, Kathryn especially.  When people quit using her rank, she became herself.  Less Captain, more human. She never lost the respect we all had for her, and people genuinely love that woman. She's so great with all the kids we've got, now.  Yes, the Captain actually babysits for the ankle-biters.  She and I do that a lot, actually.  We're everyone's favorite sitters.  And now she's having one of her own.  I'm going to be an uncle.  Wow," he grinned, tickled to death, then laughed at the look on the Captain's face. "I'm sorry.  No disrespect intended, Captain," he hastily apologized, still grinning, as she took to her feet, gracefully, as always. "I know, Tom," she said, smiling slightly, as he stood.  "But someone needs to be on the bridge, right now.  It's almost time for you to go and we need to get our own pilot back. Safe journey home, Tom," she finished quietly, wondering if the changes aboard this man's ship would see his crew in good stead on their journey home. "You too, Captain," he said, taking her hands in his, trying not to hug her. "I should be going as well," Tuvok added.  "It has been an . . .illuminating few hours . . . Tom," he said carefully, trying it out. "It'll take some getting used to, huh, Tuvok?  It's been a pleasure, truly," Tom finished as the Captain and Tuvok left the shuttlebay. B'Elanna was moving away from where she'd been leaning, arms still crossed protectively over her chest as she watched Tuvok leave.  She tossed her head defiantly when she saw Tom's soft smile.  If it had been the damned smirk, she would have slugged him. "I need to get going, too.  I only came because I was curious, about a lot of things," she said, blithely ignoring Tom's meaningful look, although the twinkle in her eyes let him know she didn't mind. He pulled her in close to whisper in her ear, when she walked by him. "Follow your heart, B'Elanna.  No matter what." She looked up at him, startled, flushing slightly red.  Damn his perception, anyway.  B'Elanna tried to smile, but it wasn't up to her usual efforts.  She took his hand, and gently squeezed.  "Thank you," she whispered, too quietly for anyone to hear but him, and she made her way back to engineering with a lot on her mind. Chakotay stood; their own Tom was going to be back in about twenty minutes and he had many things to think about in the meantime.  He walked toward Tom, carefully, to say his goodbyes. "Sorry about the turbolift, earlier," Tom said softly, seeing Chakotay's eyes widen in remembrance of Tom's kiss. Chakotay shook his head.  "Don't be.  Just another thing for me to spend some thought on," he said quietly, wondering at how easy it was to meet the man's eyes, before Tom startled him by pulling him into his arms. "Don't worry, Chakotay.  He'll love you; he won't be able to help it," Tom whispered, pulling back again.  "I wouldn't change anything, but I'll always wonder." Chakotay stared for a moment, memorizing Tom's smile, a real, affectionate, friendly smile, filled with warmth and love. Now he'd know it, if it ever crossed the face of his Tom Paris.  'His' Tom Paris?  Oh, Spirits.  He put a gentle hand to Tom's face, surprising him, judging by the look he got, and Tom's came to his own, before gentle lips touched his forehead, kissing his tattoo. "You take care of yourself, hear me?" Tom asked, voice surprisingly emotional, before he let the man go.  "Dammit, the last thing I needed was *two* of you to worry about." Chakotay joined Tom in gentle laughter then left the shuttlebay, turning once to wave before the doors closed behind him. Tom plunked down again, next to Harry.  He looked over at the man and smiled.  "Just too damned much like mine," he said quietly. "Me or Chakotay?" Harry asked, grinning. "Both," Tom laughed.  "Things are going to get a little strange around here, Harry.  Tom is going to need you more than ever, when he gets back. His whole world's been turned upside-down.  He's going to need a friend." "He's got one," Harry confirmed, eyes on Tom's mouth, until the gentle, knowing look appeared on the too familiar face, too close to his. Tom stood back up and froze for a moment. Harry scrambled to his feet, a concerned hand on his shoulder.  Tom shook his head, grinning ruefully. "Mine just kissed yours good-bye," he said, chuckling. "Well, then, just to keep things even," Harry murmured, as he moved closer, gently touching his lips to Tom's.  It was good, yet bizarre, kissing this man, near-total stranger with his best friend's face. Tom sighed.  So damned much like his Harry.  Same taste, same touch, same everything.  Well, almost.  He caught a distant and pulled away, chuckling.   "Busted," he explained to a puzzled Harry, who laughed, blushing slightly under Tom's regard, until the man pulled him back into his arms.  "Take care of yourself, Harry, please.  I almost think I'd know if anything ever happened to you," he said softly.  The man with his husband's loving face and beautiful body gave him a fierce return hug before they parted, both slightly teary-eyed.  Tom raised a hand in farewell as he got aboard the shuttlecraft, acknowledged receipt of the logs being sent back with him, and headed home.                     <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Tom opened his eyes and sighed.  Back in the damned sickbay.  Harry was here this time, though, instead of Chakotay.  His eyes narrowed suspiciously. he barely finished the thought, before Harry was in his arms, his mouth on his, and their minds went into overdrive, sharing everything that had happened since they'd last laid eyes, or anything else, on each other. Finally, they eased away from one another, both silently agreeing on what they'd be doing in a few hours, when they had more time. They looked at each other, thinking the same thing before several other people began tentatively intruding, to welcome Tom home.                    <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Tom opened his eyes and sighed.  Back in the damned sickbay.  Harry was here this time, though, instead of Chakotay.  His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Harry, please tell me we're not married," he pleaded, and Harry threw his head back and laughed. "So much for 'Darling, welcome home'," Harry managed to get out before he all but collapsed in giggles, again. Tom glared at him, then grinned.  It was impossible staying mad at the guy, absolutely impossible.  He sighed; it was good to be home. That other crew was just too much. Thank the gods everything was back to normal, now.  He caught Harry looking at him with concern, which he tried to blow off with a careless grin.  Harry wasn't buying.  He gave up, rolling his eyes, and eased himself off the biobed.   Harry waited until Tom came around the side, then joined him on the walk to Tom's quarters, after saying his goodbyes to the Holodoc.   Tom knew the Captain was going to want to talk to him; he hoped it could wait a while.  He needed to readjust.  They walked quietly down the corridors, Tom marvelling at the silence, the closed doors.  No children, no music, few people.  Home.  He sighed, wondering how the hell he could have gotten used to something so different in just three damned hours. Tom sighed again, entering his quarters. He'd seen Harry and the other Tom's quarters.  So different. Of course, his weren't right next to Chak's, dammit, *Chakotay's*, with Harry on the other side of him, either, like the other Tom's had been before their marriage, surrounded by the people he loved.  He threw himself down on the couch, knowing Harry was still there, taking some comfort in his presence.  The tears were in his eyes before he could do more than blink, and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about them.  He drew his legs up, wrapping his arms around them protectively, and buried his face in his knees. Harry stood there for a stunned moment, watching his friend fold in on himself, before joining him on the couch.  He was afraid to touch him, but wanted Tom to know he was there, if he felt ready to talk, so he laid a gentle hand on a shaking shoulder.  If anything, it loosed the floodgates even more, and Tom fell sideways into him, curled onto his chest, before Harry's arms went around him, trying to help his friend keep himself together.  He had just placed a cautious hand on Tom's head, when the man tore out of his arms and headed across the small room, facing the wall, head in his hands.   "I'm sorry," Harry offered quietly, wondering if his actions had only made things worse. Tom shook his head, jaggedly.  "No, Harry, *I'm* sorry.  It's not your fault, you were only trying to help. It's just . . ." he floundered for a minute, gesturing wildly.  "It's just *everything*," he finished, helplessly, knowing he wasn't making a lot of sense. "I always told myself that somewhere, in some universe, there had to be a Tom Paris who was happy. That I could live with everything, if I only knew that somewhere, there was a me who had it *all*.  Who either hadn't made my mistakes, or had, but survived intact and, somehow, made a wonderful life for himself.  I told myself I would be happy for him, and content.  That it wouldn't have to be *me*, that I could be satisfied with another me being happy, that it would be enough," Tom choked, shaking his head, before bringing tortured eyes around to meet his friend's. "Fuck, Harry, I am such a *liar*!" he wailed in an anguished voice that wasn't.  "It is *not* enough!  And I am *not* happy for him. I envy him so damned much, it comes *this* close to hatred. And he's me!" he cried out, slamming himself into the wall, before sliding down it, to the floor, burying his head in his arms. Harry got up after a moment and walked over and sat down carefully next to Tom.  He could almost feel the pain that was rolling off the man in waves. He shook his head not knowing what to do, how to help. Tom raised his head, finding Harry on the floor with him, and worried for a second that his friend might have misunderstood. "It's not that I envy him you, or anything.  I don't want you to think that.  But he's happy, he's married, and he's so ridiculously in love with his husband and . . . this is so *weird*, Harry.  You have *always* been my friend; I don't want you to think I want or expect anything else, okay? But they're making it work, they've been together for over a year and Harry is completely *nuts* about him. How the hell did *that* happen? I mean, I know how it happened, but *shit* . . ." he trailed off, seeing Harry's nod of understanding.  Of course he understood; he was Harry. "I know," Harry began carefully.  "It's not that I want that kind of relationship with you, or really with anyone, right now.  But I envy them. I'm jealous of that kind of connection, that level of intimacy, with someone.  I don't see us being what they are to one another.  But that doesn't mean I don't envy them their happiness.  Tom's a great kisser, and a wonderful man," he continued, seeing Tom's face pale before flaming bright red.  "But I can't see us having what they have, together.  So, you don't need to worry that I'll think you're making a pass at me, or anything, if we go on the way we have been, as friends.  I love you, as a friend, and that's the only way I can see you in my life.  So, you can put your arms around me, and I can hold you, and it won't mean anything more than that.  Okay?" he finished quietly, seeing Tom nod, before the man was back in his arms, hanging on for dear life, and Harry held him, stroking his hair, hushing him. After a while, Tom seemed to quiet, but hadn't let go of Harry, yet.  There were things he needed to tell someone and he couldn't look at Harry while he did it. "Chak said he was sorry I had to leave.  Said he wished there was room in his universe for the both of us, one for Harry, and one for him.  Then, he felt guilty for thinking it, saying it.  Then, he regretted the guilt, hoping it hadn't hurt my feelings.  Then, he felt bad for Kathryn, and went on about how much he loved her, but would never get over me belonging to someone else.  Gods, he is so stuck on that vicious circle.  He kissed me goodbye, Harry.  Long, soft, gentle; everything I've ever wanted in a kiss. I liked it. Gods, at that moment, I wanted to stay.  It almost felt like home, Harry.  For awhile, I was in another man's skin, and I *loved* it. Everyone's crazy about him on that ship." "Darcy Simmons came up to me in the corridor and hugged me.  I haven't said more than four words to her in the last two years on this ship, and she's hugging me, saying that their Tom was being taken good care of, so they'd all take care of me. Ensign Lockhart, Jerry, came up to me and asked if his counterpart was still afraid of heights, like I would know.  Gave me a holodeck program that Tom had done for him, to help him get rid of the fear. I've got programs from a couple of dozen people, for their counterparts.  Programs Tom did for all of them.  And I barely *speak* to these people on this ship." "I felt B'Elanna's baby move, Harry," Tom started before his throat closed up, and he was crying again.  "Tom was the first one to know she was pregnant.  He keeps an eye on everyone over there, everybody's guardian angel.  Watches their kids, jeez, Harry, they have *eleven* of them over there, and four women pregnant, including 'Lann and Kathryn, right now. Fuck," he choked, he couldn't help it, and felt Harry hold him tighter, gentle hand in his hair, letting him get it all out. "Chak told me that if our Chakotay doesn't love me, then he's a fool. And I have his permission to tell him that his counterpart said so.  Kathryn told me things about her life, her childhood, her career.  Hell, I know more about her, now, than I do my own father. Our Captain doesn't laugh much. Kathryn is probably the most joyful woman I've ever seen. She was so worried about me, about our whole crew.  Said it felt like it was almost her crew, in a way it was, and if she wanted to worry then, by the gods, she would.  Tuvok, even, makes people laugh.  It was a hell of a shock, the first joke I heard from him. Just a dry line thrown in here and there, and everyone's practically on the floor in hysterics.  Said he learned to appreciate humor . . . from . . . Tom," and Tom was crying again. Harry rocked him, tears in his own eyes.  Tom hadn't mentioned the word 'family' yet, but Harry knew that's what he missed, now.  He knew, from the other Tom's telling of his relationship with his Harry, that family hadn't been something Tom had had much of when he was younger. That feeling of never being alone, or lonely, of always having someone care when you missed dinner, or weren't sleeping well, or if you seemed down lately.  The other crew had, for a while, adopted him. And now, he was alone again. It took a while, but slowly the tears stopped, as did the shaking.  Harry still didn't let go.  He remembered the other Tom telling him, telling them all, that their Tom wasn't what they thought.  How a lot of it was an act, albeit a good one. How he was the only one, on *both* ships, for a while, who had seen through it.  The close quarters, during the repairs on the other Voyager, had been close enough for other people to get inside the other Tom, learn to appreciate what was there.  Dammit, Chakotay had fallen in *love* with the man, no mean feat, that.  Here, apparently, only Harry realized, still, even after all this time.  No wonder it hurt so damned much, knowing the other Tom had now what this one had always wanted. Harry said nothing, letting his friend pull himself back together, finding the pieces slowly. Tom finally moved back, running his hands over his face, wiping useless tears away.  He hurt, and he was angry at himself for caring enough to be hurt. He could feel the I-don't-give-a-damn smirk crossing his face, hating it, but feeling a little safer with the armor in place. "Don't do that," Harry said softly. Tom turned toward him, seeing the knowing look in his friend's eyes.  He cleared his throat.  "What, exactly, is it that I shouldn't do?" he asked, wondering if Harry really knew. "Don't lock yourself away from me, just to keep from being hurt, feeling hurt. Keep the walls down; you don't need them, not right now.  I hate those damned things.  I hate seeing them, I hate fighting them.  So, don't do that," Harry finished, smiling gently at Tom's pale face. Tom swallowed.  "Harry, please don't take this the wrong way, or anything . . . But, I can see why Tom loves him so much." Harry grinned, sighing when Tom grinned back, a little shakily, but not a smirk in sight.  "I can see why Harry loves him so much, too. They're so perfect for each other.  Yeah, I hate them," he finished lightly, and Tom snorted, then laughed, until he pulled Harry back into his arms, and they laughed together.                  <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Chak was a little surprised when he found the personal message written to himself from the Commander of the other ship.  Of course, he'd sent one, too, but hadn't assumed his counterpart would do the same.  Maybe he should've known, he thought, as he settled in to watch. He saw himself flicker onto the screen, and sighed.  He sure didn't miss the uniforms, that was certain.  He almost felt sorry for the other Chakotay, not knowing what he had, right under his nose.  Pulling his attention back to the screen, he heard himself speak. "Greetings, Chakotay.  I'm sure this feels as strange to hear as it does to say, but you really need to let go of the guilt you feel for loving Tom. You're only hurting yourself and you're worrying him to distraction.  I know about the guilt you're so used to carrying, but it's time to let it go, get some perspective on it.  It was all a long time ago, water under the bridge, and you need to stop punishing yourself.  Your father would want it that way; I know mine would." "They all know how you feel, your crew.  I wouldn't be able to stop loving him, either, even if he belonged to someone else, and it's okay.  You're not shortchanging Kathryn, by loving Tom.  You're not hurting Harry, by loving Tom.  He loves you, too.  So damned much. You can see it in his face every time he mentions your name.  Please, let go of the regret, the pain, the guilt.  You're going to find something out soon, so amazing it'll take your breath away.  You're going to fall in love, Chakotay, mark my words.  You won't be able to help yourself.  And you won't be able to feel guilty about it if you try.  There are many kinds of love, Chakotay.  May you be fortunate enough to experience all of them." "Take care of yourself, Chak.  And Kathryn.  And your crew, your family. May the spirits guide and keep you, on your journey home. Goodbye." With that, the screen went dark, and Chak sat quietly, lost in thought, wondering what made his counterpart give him such a gift.   he thought, amused, before sitting back and considering the truth to be found in the other man's words.                     <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Chakotay was a little surprised when he found the personal message written to himself from the Chak on the other ship. Of course, he'd sent one, too, but hadn't assumed his counterpart would do the same.  Maybe he should've known, he thought, as he settled in to watch. "Greetings, Chakotay.  I wanted to apologize for the 'hunk of wood' crack, first off.  That out of the way, let me say this. You have no idea how easy it is to fall in love with Tom Paris, if you haven't done it, already. If you have, then, for the sake of the spirits, *do* something about it, before someone else does.  I don't know if I should have made a move a lot sooner, or not.  In this universe, I think he and Harry were an undeniable event just waiting to happen. In yours, I don't think so.  While he was here, he seemed too uncomfortable with the idea, to be secretly wanting that sort of relationship with Harry."   "I told him a lot about me, us, actually.  He wants to know more, Chakotay. And he wants to hear it from you.  He's curious about your family, your upbringing, your father. He wants to know your history, your people, your life.  Tell him. For the love of all you hold sacred, tell him. Let the man fall in love with you.  Cherish him. Attract him. Frustrate and tantalize him. Enjoy him. Love him, Chakotay.  Or mark my words, you *will* regret it, for the rest of your life.  However you find yourself able to share his joy in loving someone else, it will be *agony* for you. I will never stop loving Tom, Chakotay.  And I sincerely hope it's not too late for you to start."   "The spirits have smiled on that one; you take care of him, and he will bring you home. Goodbye, Chakotay, and good luck." With that, the screen went dark and the Commander sat quietly, lost in thought, wondering what made his counterpart give him such a gift.   he thought, amused, before sitting back and considering the truth to be found in the other man's words.                     <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Okay, so Tom was hiding. Big deal.  Over the past few days, he had dispensed all the programs the other Tom had written, and found himself agreeing to join the various recipients, to see, and perhaps improve on, what his counterpart had come up with.  He was out of his mind. Maybe. And maybe it was time to connect with this crew and forge some new relationships.  He'd wait and see.  Part of him wanted it so badly, and part of him was terrified.  People might just get to know Tom Paris.  And they might find the real one, the one only Harry had ever seen.   Harry.  He'd never get used to it.  Seeing their quarters, the bed they shared together, the way their lives meshed so perfectly.  Dammit, he'd never find that.  He sometimes found himself wondering, honestly, if he and Harry could make a go of it.  It wasn't a chance he was willing to take. He'd lose the best friend he ever had, if it didn't work out. He sighed.  It was part of the reason he was hiding; so damned many people wanted to know what their counterparts were doing, how they were, who they were with.  He'd only caught bits and pieces, during those three hours. He didn't know much. Some things he wished he didn't know, at all.  Like the moment he'd run into the beautiful dark Ensign in the corridor and felt himself go pale when she commented that he looked like he'd seen a ghost.  How her face had gone still, as she recognized the truth of her words in his eyes. How she'd come into his arms, holding him, ignoring the way his eyes had filled with bitter tears.  He'd looked for her on this ship when he'd some back, reread the logs, even knowing she was gone for good, here. It hurt. It hurt alot. And there was nothing he could do about it.   Eleven children over there, some belonging to people who barely knew each other to say hello to, on this ship.  There, they had lived together, loved together.  Sixteen families, there, several more engagements, many people involved. So different.  And here, everyone wanted to know, needed to know.   Something moved through him and he wished Harry was here when he figured out what it was.  He felt walls erecting, armor being donned, felt his heart retreating into a colder, indifferent place.  Harry wouldn't have allowed it.  But, Harry wasn't here to stop it.  He knew he was slipping into the grandfather of all funks, but couldn't seem to shake himself out of it.  The doorchime barely registered, but he muttered 'come' anyway, maybe it was Harry. The tread wasn't, the soft voice wasn't.  He felt a hand on his shoulder, and just shook his head, not in answer to the concerned question being asked, but in response to the noise inside him. He felt the cushion depress a little, as someone joined him on the sofa, and almost snorted. An elephant could sit next to him, and he'd *still* be more depressed than the damned sofa cushion.  Gentle hand on his back, tentative touch between his shoulderblades, strong legs parallel to his own, next to him. His breathing went a little rough, fighting the tears that wanted to come.  The noise roaring inside quieted for a moment, allowing him to hear the voice next to his ear. "Talk to me, Tom.  What's wrong?" The concern came through, but it was Chakotay's voice and that didn't make much sense.  It was also Chak's voice, though, and that did.  Chak would worry, if he didn't answer. Man had enough to worry about, already. "So much. So different, Chak," Tom answered, roughly. Chakotay flinched a little, hearing Tom call him by the other man's nickname.  But, if it would make Tom talk, he could be him for a little while.  The sadness and pain in the eyes didn't match the stone of Tom's face and he couldn't stand to see them.  Maybe it would help, just to listen. "What's so different?" Chakotay asked, waiting for a snort, or for Tom to roll his eyes at the question, but neither happened. Tom shook his head, the effort required to make some smart remark totally beyond him at the moment. "Everything's different.  I'm so tired, Chak.  So damned tired of playing Oracle to one hundred and twenty people, half of whom were barely speaking to me a few days ago.  That other ship is a damned *colony*.  We're more like a military unit.  The last person they lost was Hogan.  After Tom brought Voyager back, they didn't take any more chances. No more lives lost.  How do I tell these people that?  How do I tell them that the ones we've lost, weren't lost there?  What do I say?" Tom finished, looking at the man next to him, seeing him in uniform, trying not to be surprised. "I could tell you to just go ahead and answer them, honestly. You'd only have to tell them once.  Or make a general report, crew-wide, and let them sort through it all.  Or tell me and I'll tell them for you," Chakotay offered, gently, hesitantly.  He'd heard how some of the crew had reacted to what little Tom had already let be known.  The idea that some would blame the messenger was galling.  It wasn't Tom's fault, or anyone's.  It was simply the way things had evolved over there.  His thinking paused, as he saw Tom nodding, slightly. "Would you mind? Telling them?" Tom asked carefully, wondering just exactly who the man was sitting next to him. Chakotay smiled.  "Not at all.  Tell me everything you remember.  I'll work through it and let the rest of the crew know."  Before his eyes, Tom sighed and seemed to melt into the couch, easing back, bringing his legs under him, as he cleared his throat, and began. Tom told Chakotay almost all of it.  He left out the parts concerning Chak, figuring Chakotay wouldn't want to know that his counterpart seemed to be crazy about Tom Paris, no matter what universe he came from. The things Kathryn had told him, well, Janeway might consider them private, so he said nothing.  Things he'd heard from B'Elanna, her childhood, her time with Chak, in the Maquis; he left those out, too.  He talked for nearly two hours, though, about the rest of it, finally winding down about the time his voice started giving out.  He felt better, for telling someone, having another person know what it was like, then, and how much it hurt, now.  He looked at Chakotay and saw the man was almost as overwhelmed as Tom had been.  A smile began to cross his face, in gratitude, as Chakotay shook his head, slowly, in wonderment. "Thanks, Chakotay." Quietly said, sincerely meant. "For what?" "For understanding how it was for me, at least a little bit," Tom sighed, dragging his hands through his hair, a gesture warmly familiar to Chakotay, who couldn't help smiling at it. "You're welcome, Tom."  Quietly said, sincerely meant.                     <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> A few days later, things had quieted down considerably. People no longer cornered Paris, demanding to know what he knew.  Some of the demands had been pleasant, kind even, but he was still glad he wasn't in the spotlight any longer.  He was grateful to Chakotay for taking so much of the heat off of him. The Commander had made it clear that any questions that needed to be asked, should be asked of him. He was in charge of personnel issues, so it made sense to most people.  Tom was profoundly relieved that he didn't have to deal with it anymore. He had been spending his time building a few bridges among the crew, giving advice on programs or whatever, when asked.  He was enjoying these people a hell of a lot more, that was for sure.  He and Ensign Lockhart, Jerry, now, had spent quite a number of hours on the holodeck, working through the program to get him over his problem with heights.  Tom had added a few walks along cliffs and over bridges and Jerry seemed okay with it.  The walks had become runs and soon, Tom realized, he had a running program.  It made him laugh, the synchronicity of it, and it wasn't the only one. He'd been on the holodeck another time, checking out the other Tom's program of the Klingon Homeworld, when B'Elanna had come in, looking for him.  She had stopped in midstride, eyes huge. She'd never been there, so Tom got to play tourguide, walking her through it.  She didn't much care for the populated areas, but liked the wild, open places. Their walks had also become runs.  There was so much he wanted to talk to her about, but didn't know how to ask or mention without angering her. 'Lann had discussed many things about her childhood with him, things that her association with Tuvok had helped her accept and deal with. Things that still bothered and hurt B'Elanna.  Tom wanted to help, but didn't know how. Maybe the time would present itself, later.  He hoped so. He and Harry were still firmly friends and nothing more. The momentary awkwardness of their relationship had given way to comfortable familiarity, as it had been.  Just friends, best friends.  Maybe closer than before, even.  They were certainly more demonstrative with one another, physically closer, but it stopped there. Some other things were a little different.  Tom laughed more now than he ever had in his life.  Most of it was Harry's fault. Or credit.  Tom wasn't sure.  All he knew was that his best friend had a wicked sense of humor and it played wonderfully off of his. They certainly had more fun now than they ever had, before.  Most of the time, the walks along Harry's favorite holographic river would start with friendly insults and harassment and end up with the two of them chasing each other, until one floundered and went in, head first.  Tom figured it was just a matter of time until they began running together, too. His relationship with the Captain had changed.  They were more comfortable around one another, now.  It hadn't ever been really *un*comfortable, but the Captain had always been an unknown quantity to Tom, so different from most of those he remembered who wore the same uniform.  They spent a lot more time talking, since his return.  He didn't mind her questions about the other crew.  He understood her curiosity and knew she wondered what could have made the other Kathryn change so; allowing and encouraging that crew to remain so close was totally against Starfleet protocols.  Part of the reason was that the ship wasn't completely Starfleet.  The addition of the Maquis had been a significant change; adaptation had been absolutely necessary for the ship to function.  Janeway had been fascinated when Tom told her he'd never heard the words Starfleet or Maquis mentioned.  Without uniforms, it had made no difference.  It was as if the absence of the uniforms had led to the crew's being able to relate to one another as people, first. The rest simply didn't matter. He enjoyed his time with the Captain and deliberately drew her out of her ready room for their talks.  The crew had gotten used to seeing them walking the corridors together and getting her into civilian clothing during off-duty hours had relaxed things considerably.  Tom grinned as he remembered people just coming up to her, talking about things that were completely unrelated to ship's business. Janeway had been somewhat startled at first, but eased into it after a while.  Now she took to walking her ship by herself, checking up on her crew.  People refused to let her even eat alone, bringing her down to the mess hall to join them. Her natural friendliness and humor were finally making themselves known and the tables around hers were filled, always. Tom just watched from a distance, enjoying it.  It was good to see her opening up to the crew, at last.  He knew, from his experience on the other ship, that she was becoming more like what she really was, a compassionate, caring person who didn't appreciate the distance her rank put between herself and her crew. Tom wasn't the only one who noticed.  Chakotay, too, saw how the Captain and Tom had been spending greater amounts of time together, at first, before the Captain found her way and Tom slid back into the background. Chakotay watched Tom, as Tom watched the Captain.  The slight devilish smile was unmistakable, as was the fondness on his face.  Chakotay was impressed at the changes, not just in the Captain, but also in Tom.  He hadn't missed the increase in laughter, nor the absence of the familiar smirk that had, until recently, taken up near-permanent residence on the pilot's face. Chakotay was glad of the former and relieved at the latter. The only thing that bothered him, was that *Harry* had been responsible for so much of it.  He knew that they had walked around each other warily for a short while, until the well-worn path of friendship had been found again. Neither seemed willing to put them on a different path, to his great relief.  But, other people had also seen the obvious changes in Tom and the appreciative looks he was getting now, set Chakotay's teeth on edge. They hadn't spent much time together, recently.  Tom had been busy with other projects, like the Captain, Lockhart, and scores of others.  Chakotay had been looking for an opening, now that the demands on Tom's time had eased off.  He just didn't know how to start.                  <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Chakotay had tossed and turned for about an hour and he was giving up. Obviously, sleep had no intention of gracing him with its presence, tonight.  Sighing, he got up and threw on some clothes, remaining comfortably casual.  The Commander exited his quarters, just in time to see a familiar fair head attached to a tall, graceful body move cautiously around the corner.  He followed, wondering what the hell Tom was still doing up, ignoring the illogic of the thought. Tom was carrying something, what, Chakotay couldn't be sure.  He lost the man, briefly, when he went into a turbolift, but caught the next one and, checking on Tom's whereabouts with the computer, managed to track him to the mess hall.  Entering quietly, he saw that Tom had some of the lights on low and was in the kitchen.  Chakotay could hear the muffled sound of pots and pans clattering within. Peering around a corner, feeling absurd, he saw Tom open the parcel he was carrying.  For crying out loud, vegetables? Eggs?  What the hell . . .? Moving closer, he saw Tom turn on one of the stovetops, adjusting the flame, sighing contentedly.  Cracking the eggs into a bowl, he rapidly whipped them into foaminess, before setting the bowl aside.  Reaching up for one of the knives hanging overhead, he spotted Chakotay and froze. Chakotay wasn't angry, just puzzled, and his face reflected it so Tom relaxed. "Why are you up and what on *earth* are you doing?" Chakotay asked, quietly. "Would you believe a midnight omelet raid?" Tom replied, grinning at the confusion on the other man's face. "Don't the replicators make omelets?" "Sure," Tom sighed.  "But they're always the same.  They look the same, taste the same; it's boring.  Even the placement of the mushroom slices is *always* exactly the same." Chakotay's ears perked up at the 'M' word.  "Mushrooms?" he asked, hopefully, looking into the package on the counter. Tom chuckled, grabbing a knife for each of them.  "You do the 'shrooms, I'll get the onions," he suggested, grinning at the almost gleeful look on the Commander's face. On *Chakotay's* face. The man wasn't just the Commander, anymore, he realized, wondering when he'd started thinking about him as a human being.  Probably when he'd seen Chak being human on the other ship.  How had he missed it, before?  Shit, was he *that* self-absorbed?  Honestly, he decided that it was likely because of *both* of them, distance and distrust rampant on both sides of the equation, both of them stuck on the package, not the contents. Tom sighed, relieved that that wasn't the case any longer. Things had thawed out considerably, between them.  Not that they were the best of friends, or anything, but relations were definitely warmer than they had been.  It was a bit more comfortable, now, and he liked it.  A lot. Watching Chakotay slice mushrooms, he grinned slightly, feeling mischievous.  Every time Chakotay turned to get another one, he'd pop a slice or two into his mouth.  The pile wasn't growing quite as quickly, anymore. Chakotay was bemused.  He'd sliced more than *that*, he was positive, where in the world were they going?  Wait a minute. Keeping an eye on Tom out of the corner of his own, he saw the man reach toward the pile, flipping some into his mouth with a quick snap of the wrist.  He turned, cocking his head, at Tom, who halted in mid-chew, looking, well . . . certainly not innocent, that's for sure.  He cleared his throat. "Do you want to do the mushrooms?" he asked wryly, as Tom snorted. "No, you're doing fine," Tom replied, magnanimously.  "Just the way I like 'em." Chakotay grinned, then laughed, before seeing the startled look on Tom's face when he did so. "What?" he asked, still chuckling. Tom shook his head.   Chakotay frowned.  "Come on, what?" he insisted, as Tom refused to meet his eyes.  "Tom?"  Softly asked, impossible to ignore. Tom swallowed heavily.  "There's no good way to say it, trust me," he answered, quietly, finally looking Chakotay in the eye, seeing the man wasn't going to give up.  He sighed, running a frustrated hand through unruly hair. "I've missed the sound of your laughter," he murmured. Chakotay frowned, then froze, as Tom's meaning became clear.  "I'm not him," Chakotay said quietly. Tom put the knife down and turned toward him. "I know," he said firmly. "And I don't want you to be; I don't wish you were," he said, turning back around, avoiding Chakotay. "It's just one of the things I got used to, that's all," he finished, the nonchalance not ringing true, for once. Chakotay heard it and watched in dismay, as the walls began to re-erect themselves around the man next to him and he saw the face begin to change, as well, the grin slowly starting to turn back into the smirk he loathed. Gods, no. "Don't," he said, before he could stop himself.  The effect of that one word was electric and instantaneous.  The walls were demolished, the smirk vanquished, and Tom stopped cold, taking a deep, steadying breath, before he slowly turned back toward him, looking upset and uncertain. "Shit, what *is* it with you and Harry, anyway?" he asked, almost sounding angry, as his hands went through his hair, again, in agitation.   "Why can't you just *let* me . . .?" he trailed off, not able to complete the thought, and turned away from Chakotay. "Let you what, shut yourself off from the rest of us?  Close in on yourself, so nothing can hurt you?"  he asked, quietly, but the emotion carried on the words brought Tom back around, facing him again. "Don't you understand, Tom, that if nothing can hurt you, then nothing can *reach* you, either?" Chakotay began, with soft intensity.  "You don't need the defenses, not with me," he finished, in a whisper that Tom had no trouble hearing, as he thought Tom closed his eyes, trying to get his breathing under control without losing it, totally.  He leaned back against the counter, arms crossing protectively over his chest.  The body language wasn't lost on Chakotay, who had to listen carefully when Tom spoke, barely in a whisper. "I used to need them.  And I'm used to needing them.  Harry won't let me get away with them, anymore, but it's okay.  I trust Harry.  Hell, somewhere, out there, I'm even *married* to the guy," Tom said wryly, looking at the floor, which was a whole lot less disturbing than looking at Chakotay. "I've trusted him from the start.  And even after he knew everything, he still trusted me. He knows me," Tom looked up, meeting Chakotay's eyes. "You don't." Chakotay felt like cringing, but tried not to let it show. Something the other Tom said, was yet again coming back to haunt him. "I know and I'm sorry," he admitted softly.  "I saw what you wanted me to, and didn't bother looking any deeper," he smiled gently when Tom's eyes widened in consternation and surprise. "*He* told you, didn't he?" Tom asked quietly, jaw setting. "Dammit, I *really* hate him, I really, truly, *hate* him. He didn't leave me with anything, did he? Not a damned thing!" he ground out, wishing he could hit something, anything. "He didn't do it to hurt you, he wanted to help. The differences in him were obvious and were brought about by far more than Harry's love," Chakotay said carefully, as Tom turned away again, pacing in the confined space, like a caged animal.   "You're right," Chakotay continued.  "Harry knows you, really knows you, and he's possibly the only one on this ship who does.  He knows you well enough to call you his friend.  And I know what's there, now, underneath all the smoke and mirrors.  At least, I'm beginning to.  I want to know more, Tom.  What I've seen so far fascinates the hell out of me," he admitted, the sincerity bringing Tom's eyes up, lit with wonder and reluctant hope. Tom felt like snorting, making some crack, and getting the hell out of there, but that was too easy, not to mention dishonest, and Chakotay wouldn't be fooled, now, anyway. Some part of him rejoiced that the act was no longer necessary with this man, as it wasn't with Harry.  Most of him, though, was scared to death.  Vulnerable was not something he thrived on, nor did he do it well.  And he wondered, really, exactly *who* it was that had 'fascinated' the man so much. "I'm not him," Tom said quietly, hoping Chakotay would understand, could reassure him, make him believe it didn't matter. "I know," Chakotay answered immediately, understanding perfectly.  "I don't want you to be.  *You're* the one I want to get to know," he said, gently, before his voice turned intense, though it remained quiet.  "And make no mistake, I want to know the *real* Tom Paris.  You can just put the facade back wherever the hell you found him, because I'm not going to settle for that one, anymore.  Got it?" he asked, breathing a sigh of relief at Tom's slow, stunned nod. "Good." Turning back around to the counter and picking up the knife, Chakotay kept an eye on Tom, while finishing the mushrooms.  The look on the other man's face was odd, part grin, part grimace, but no smirk in sight.  Spirits, how had Harry done it?  Known, almost from the start, what was real and what wasn't?   Tom was somewhat overwhelmed.  Relief mixed with a vague feeling of being uncomfortable and he didn't know what to do.  A lot of the time, with Harry, a simple touch would be used to convey what he had problems finding the words for. Harry always understood.  He didn't know what the hell to do with Chakotay, the man was *not* Mr. Touchy-Feely, not by any stretch of the imagination.  Maybe he could work into it gradually.  The man wanted the real deal, or so he said.  It would be real. Soon, all that remained was the cooking.  Tom's appetite had vanished, but he didn't want to leave.  The silence surrounding them was slightly awkward, yet patient.  He poured the beaten eggs into the heated pan and sighed.  Looking at Chakotay from the side, he was startled to find the man was subtly watching him. He turned to face him, while the omelet cooked, biting his lip in thought. Chakotay smiled gently, then a little more, as Tom relaxed in front of him. "I know it's not easy," he said softly. Tom nodded.  "You don't know how 'not easy' it is," he replied simply, sighing.  "I don't know what to do with you, now.  How to act . . ." he trailed off, startled to find Chakotay's warm hand on his shoulder. "Just be yourself.  Nothing else . . ." It was Chakotay's turn to trail off, when Tom's hand covered his own.  He recalled noticing how physical Tom and Harry had been, recently, but had dismissed it, thinking it was mostly Harry's instigation. Maybe not.  He also remembered when he had found Tom in his quarters, looking so distant and miserable. Remembered how he'd put his hand on the man's back, just to comfort and bring him back from wherever he was that made him so unhappy.  Tom had responded to that touch, then.  He remembered how often the other Tom had touched him, put an arm around him, held him. The man used a lot of physical contact. Chakotay guessed he'd have to get used to that.  His counterpart obviously had. Tom reached out and, without thinking, grabbed the pan and neatly flipped the omelet over, catching it perfectly, before adding the veggies and mushrooms, folding it in half, and replacing it over the flame. Of course Tom used his hands, Chakotay realized, he was a *pilot*, for crying out loud.  Everything he did with them, made Voyager react, in some way.  Through them, he indicated what he wanted to the ship and the ship responded exactly the way he wanted it to.  Chakotay was *definitely* going to have to get used to this; it was how the man communicated.  It made perfect sense, finally. Tom cut the omelet in half and, grabbing a couple of forks, passed one to Chakotay.  He'd missed the revelation on the man's face, but now caught the smile and returned it.  They made short work of whatever one calls the meal one eats at two in the morning, cleaned up, and killed the lights, before they left the mess hall. Tom had to pass Chakotay's quarters on the way back to his own, so they walked together silently but, finally, comfortably. "See you later, Chakotay," Tom said quietly, wondering if he'd get any sleep that night, or not. "Bright and early," Chakotay replied, wishing they could spend some more time talking, but not wanting to do too much, too soon.  "Good night, Tom." He turned, heading into his quarters, as Tom continued on, to his own.                        <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Harry looked at Tom with concern.  Even from here, he could tell the man was beat, in the slump of the shoulders, the way he was propped on his elbows, leaning over breakfast.  Which he wasn't eating, by the way. Tom looked up dazedly when he felt Harry's hand on his shoulder, face breaking into a tired smile. "Damn, what happened to you?" Harry asked softly, sitting down across from his friend. Tom grinned.  "Chakotay," he answered, shaking his head when Harry's hand froze in mid-air, fork hovering over his tray.  "Not like that, we were up pretty late last night, talking.  I feel kinda ragged, but in a good way." Harry reached a gentle hand out to touch Tom's cheek. Way too pale, even for Tom.  "You look like hell. You sure you're okay?  Do *I* need to have a talk with the Commander?" he asked, smiling, but completely serious. Tom shook his head.  "No, really, it's okay," he replied, taking Harry's hand in his. "He's just getting to know the 'real me', very slowly.  It's hard, you know, Har?  Being with him the way I am with you?  He's pretty insistent that the shields stay down, when we're together, just like somebody else I know," he smiled, fondly, matching Harry's. Harry nodded.  "Good for him.  'Bout damned time someone else got to know the Tom Paris I do.  Although, it was kind of nice, having you all to myself," he teased, laughing when Tom did. Chakotay entered the mess hall, looking automatically for Tom.  Locating him immediately, he started to head over, but paused when he saw Tom and Harry laughing and . . . holding hands?   he thought, then Tom turned his head and smiled, waving him over with his free hand. Tom wondered why Chakotay seemed to be frowning until a gentle hand took his chin.   "Did you get *any* sleep, last night?" Chakotay asked, concerned at Tom's pallor, taking a seat next to him. "I had a lot to think about," Tom said, meaningfully, smiling slightly at him. Chakotay sighed, shaking his head, removing his hand, before looking at Tom and Harry's clasped together on the table.  Neither seemed to be aware of it, so he decided to ignore it. "Come to any conclusions?" he asked lightly, trying not to act as though he was hanging on Tom's answer.  All he got was a glare for his trouble, from both of them.  Ye gods, it was even the same glare. "Chakotay, I wrote the book on nonchalance," Tom said softly, as Harry nodded.  "Don't even try it.  If you want *my* honesty, then I deserve *yours*." Chakotay was thankful his dark skin didn't show his flush too badly. "You're right, I'm sorry," he said, quietly, really wishing the Ensign wasn't around, right now. "I know it's not easy, believe me, I *know*," Tom replied.  "It takes a *lot* of practice." "And being around people who won't let you get away with it certainly helps," Harry chimed in, smiling at Tom, who returned it. "We'll just have to work on it, together," Tom said, meeting Chakotay's eyes, again. "Think we can keep each other honest?" Chakotay asked, absurdly pleased when Tom nodded. "I think we can manage it, yes," Tom said carefully, suddenly finding it hard to maintain eye contact with the man, until he felt a light squeeze on his hand, from Harry. His eyes darted to Harry's and he smiled.  Comfort and courage, right there, all he needed, for the borrowing. Damn, sometimes he thought that maybe the man *could* read his mind, he knew him so well. "No, I still can't read your mind, Tom," Harry said, almost laughing as Tom gaped at him. he thought. Chakotay knew he'd missed something and felt envious, wishing he and Tom had that kind of familiarity.  But, he *was* a patient man and believed, with all his heart, that the journey to get to that level of friendship would be well worth the trip.  For both of them.                       <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Tom was gradually getting used to seeing Chakotay a lot more than usual. The man seemed to arrive wherever he was just minutes after he got there. Tom found himself looking for the Commander in the mess hall, on the holodeck, even in the corridors, now.  And the fact that they were on the same exact schedule hadn't escaped his notice, either.  It got to the point where it only made sense to eat with Chakotay and sometimes, though less often, Harry.   Chakotay was doing it deliberately; putting himself in Tom's path seemed to be the easiest way to spend more time with the man. And arranging their schedules to coincide had been no accident.  It had certainly done wonders with the other Tom and his counterpart.   The Commander thoroughly enjoyed their time together, just the two of them, but didn't mind the additional company when Harry was with them.  He was a little quieter around the Ensign, preferring to just watch their interaction, pick up on their looks and gestures and try to follow the seemingly unrelated trains of thought that ran rampant through their conversations.  It was almost impossible, but sometimes he thought he was catching on. Harry wasn't blind, nor was he an idiot.  He knew who made up the schedules: Chakotay.  Who was frequently asking the computer for Tom's whereabouts: Chakotay.  And who on occasion just happened to have an impossible shot all set up in Sandrine's for Tom to work his magic on: Chakotay. Duh.  And he knew why the Commander was doing it.  And couldn't fault him in the slightest.  The only thing he didn't like was that he didn't get to spend much time alone with Tom anymore.  However, there were also times when Chakotay would deliberately make himself scarce, only to have Tom comm him and ask him to join them.  Harry understood how difficult it was for the Commander to refuse those invitations and said nothing.  It wasn't always a good thing, all the time, though.  Harry hadn't missed Chakotay challenging Tom every once and a while, trying to draw him out, making him open up a bit more. Tom didn't always like it, but he only bristled when other people were around and Chakotay usually backed off when he encountered Tom's immovable resistance.  Usually. The day came, finally, when Chakotay decided not to ease off and the significant-bordering-on-hostile looks he was getting from Harry weren't swaying him. The Commander told himself that it was for Tom's own good, but the real reason, buried deep within him, made him push harder than he should have against the first wall he encountered and once he began, he couldn't *stop* pushing.   Something was going on with this particular staff meeting, but Janeway couldn't put her finger on it.  Chakotay was agitated, his frustration, evident, but the cause was unknown.  He seemed to be intent on having a serious discussion with Tom, who responded to every remark with a quip or joke of his own.  She noticed the scathing glares Harry was sending in Chakotay's direction, but didn't understand the significance.  She'd thought the three of them were getting along rather well; they certainly spent enough time together.  She caught the tightening of Chakotay's jaw and thought that dismissing the meeting was the prudent thing to do.  Let them deal with whatever was happening in private. Tom's eyes narrowed as he watched Chakotay stalk out of the Captain's ready room, seeing the rigid posture and the anger in the Commander's own eyes. A hand on his arm made him look up, right into Harry's sympathetic gaze. He sighed, shaking his head as his friend led him into the deserted corridor, letting him pace until he was able to calm down enough to form a complete sentence. "How *could* he?" Tom grated, looking at Harry, who had no answers for him. "Why did he do it, huh, Har?  Why?" Harry shook his head tiredly.  He could understand the need to let other people see a different Tom Paris than the one they were used to, but he *never* would have cornered Tom like that.  Some of those questions had been a little too personal, focused too much attention on Tom for him to be comfortable answering them seriously.   Chakotay had started with a few innocuous comments about Voyager's family, then had offered some small anecdotes about his own, before grilling Tom about his. The pilot had tried to brush him off, gently and humorously, but Chakotay was not about to be deterred.  He reminded Tom of a few things that had obviously been mentioned privately and Tom had gone white.  Harry had tried to deflect the conversation, but every time he steered it away from Tom, Chakotay steered it right back again.  Holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, all had been used to get Tom to open up a little, but the more Chakotay tried, the more silent the Lieutenant had become.  Neelix chimed in with a number of interesting facts on a wide variety of species, which had distracted the First Officer for a bit, fortunately allowing the Captain to end the meeting, lest Neelix prattle on for hours about Keyanian Harvest Festivals. "You need to talk to him," Harry said quietly, rubbing Tom's back, cursing the Commander for the shaking he felt under his hand.  "Ask *him* why." Tom nodded, taking a deep breath and, tossing an uncertain grin at Harry, headed down the corridor to the turbolift.                  <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Chakotay felt like roaring in frustration, when he stalked back into his quarters.  Gods, Tom Paris was the most aggravating, annoying, and arrogant man he'd ever known in his *life*.  He pitched the padd in his hand across the room, feeling no better when it glanced off the wall.  Tempted to go to the holodeck and pound the snot out of something nonexistent, he nonetheless paused when the doorchime sounded.  Only one person *that* could be. Tom walked stiffly through the door, when the Commander bade him enter. Damn, he was angry, enough that he debated the wisdom of coming here before he'd cooled off some. "Dammit, I cannot *believe* you," Chakotay began, before Tom totally cut him off. "Yeah, well, I can't believe *you*, either.  How dare you!  It's hard enough to let go with you and Harry, you've got no goddamned right, expecting me to do that with the rest of the crew," he bit off, harshly, trying to keep from yelling. "It was *not* the rest of the crew, it was the Captain, B'Elanna, Tuvok, and Neelix," Chakotay tried to reason, but Tom wasn't having any of it. "Exactly, the rest of the senior staff, including the entire *bridge crew*, for crying out loud . . . Dammit, Chakotay! Even Harry knows better than to *push* it like that . . ." "*I* am *not* Harry!" Chakotay resounded, part of him guiltily seeing Tom's point, but loathe to admit it. "Oh, you got *that* right!  Harry would *never* put me into that kind of situation and expect me to react the way you did, because he understands! He knows how hard it is for me and he would never push those boundaries, let alone blow them away like you just did!  He *respects* them, *Commander*!" Tom shot back, seeing the man's eyes narrow. "Knock it off, Tom, *dammit*, don't *start* that shit with me," Chakotay voiced, warningly. "It's your rank, *Sir*!" Tom retorted. "Coming from your lips, it's a curse!  Don't *do* that, leave the damned wall down!" "Why the hell *should* I?!" "*Because I can't get through it, dammit*!" Chakotay roared, giving up, making his anger and frustration painfully obvious. "And why does that matter?" Tom asked, noticeably quieter. "It matters to *me*, *shit*," Chakotay grabbed his head in his hands and threw himself onto the couch.   Tom paced for a moment, before joining him. "Why did you do this?  Dammit, I *trusted* you," he said, feeling the words flow out of the emotional wound, knowing his hurt was evident in his voice, not caring.  He *was* hurt and was too used to letting the man know his feelings, to try and cover it up.  Well, most of his feelings, anyway. "I want everyone to know the man I know, that's why.  I'm tired of keeping it to myself, like some guilty secret," Chakotay began exhaustedly, the wounded tone of Tom's voice slicing right through him. "Harry's managed to keep it for three years," Tom returned, matter-of-factly. Chakotay took a deep breath.  Gods, he was *so* tired of being compared to the Ensign and found wanting. "What do you expect me to say to that?" he asked, wearily. "How about that 'truth' you're so fond of?" Tom replied, quietly, watching the other man's face, carefully. Chakotay sighed, heavily.  He couldn't do this.  It was too hard, probably too soon, and too . . . damned frightening. He hated the idea that he was avoiding this out of cowardice; it rankled.  He rubbed his hands over his eyes, leaning back against the cushion. "Talk to me," Tom pleaded, quietly.  "What the hell is going on with you, lately?  You've been pushing me for days, now. Chak, dammit, *talk* to me." "Don't *call* me that," Chakotay ground out, grateful for the distraction, however shortlived.  "It's a lot worse than 'Commander', believe me," he finished, tiredly. "Chay?" Tom suggested, faint humor in his voice, very faint. "It'll do," Chakotay said, reluctantly, glad that Tom understood. "So, what's been happening, here? 'Cause I gotta admit, I don't get it," Tom said softly, reaching a hand out along the seat towards Chakotay, who took it gratefully in both of his before twisting around to face Tom. "I want everyone to know the Tom Paris I do.  If they get to know you, it won't be such a shock to them, when they figure out I'm falling in love with you.  They'll realize I just couldn't help myself." Damn.  Wow.  Shit.  "That's *the* truth, isn't it?  The big one you've been avoiding all this time, the one you couldn't bring yourself to trust me with," Tom said softly, resigned, puzzled when Chakotay shook his head, emphatically. "It's not that, Tom.  I swear it isn't.  I just knew, that if *you* knew, I'd have to tell you everything.  Be honest with you, about all of it," Chakotay groaned, deciding to dig his grave a little deeper.  What the hell? "I'd have to tell you what it felt like when he kissed me, put his arms around me, joked with me. I'd have to admit that I didn't want him to stop," Chakotay sighed, breaking off, caressing the hand that had frozen between his own. "I'm not him, Chakotay," Tom said, with cool finality, trying to draw his hand away, but the man wasn't letting go. "You don't understand.  I don't want you to be *him*, Tom.  I wanted him to be *you*, and he wasn't.  Harry, the other Harry, has all but *domesticated* that man. That's not the Tom I want, not the Tom I'm so attracted to.  He told us that Harry had smoothed off the rough edges.  I happen to *like* those rough edges.  He said that he and Harry had an intense relationship, but it seemed pretty quiet to me. Comfortable. Easy.  No challenge, if you know your lover's mind and heart better than he does.  I like a challenge.  I don't want easy.  I want you.  That's all, Tom.  I *just* *want* *you*," Chakotay finished quietly, waiting for Tom to quit looking at their hands and meet his eyes, but he didn't seem so inclined. Tom was struggling, trying to let himself believe Chakotay's words.  He could hear the truth in them, but had a hard time believing that *anyone* would prefer *him* to the other Tom Paris.  He thought for a second, then realized he wouldn't want the other Chak, either.  He wasn't Chakotay. Smiling slightly, he met Chakotay's eyes, intense and concerned. "Gods above, we are a pair," he said ruefully, shaking his head, brushing the other man's hand with a hesitant thumb. Chakotay tried not to get too excited, but damn, it was hard. "So, what do *you* want?" he asked abruptly, ignoring the pounding in his chest, the rushing in his ears. "I want a lot of things, Chay," Tom began, softly.  At the Commander's raised eyebrow, he elaborated.  "I want you to promise you'll never make me fly without a net, again.  No more using what I tell you as a means to get me to open up to other people.  I know sometimes the defensive humor is automatic and I don't mind you calling me on it, when we're alone, or Harry's around.  But no one else.  Not yet, anyway. Please," he asked, eyes pleading, smiling when Chakotay nodded, apologetic.  "It'll just have to remain a mystery to them all, why you're bothering with me," he grinned, as Chakotay squeezed his hand, letting him get away with the self-deprecating humor. "I want to spend as much time together as you can stand.  You've done the observing, the listening, all of it, with me recently.  I want to do the same with you.  I've gotten to see a lot but you're still holding something back.  I know you are.  I don't know *why*, but I know you *are*," Tom paused, as Chakotay looked away. "What is it, Chay?" he asked, quietly. "I . . . have been holding back, you're right," Chakotay said, cautiously. "Well, now you don't have to," Tom answered, puzzled. "Are you sure?" Chakotay asked, in a whisper, still reluctant to meet Tom's eyes. "Yes, I'm sure," Tom replied, slowly, not knowing why it was so important. "If you insist," Chakotay acquiesced, bringing his eyes back to connect with Tom's, taking the man's startled face in his hands, and pulling him gently into a soft kiss.  He backed away, watched dazed blue eyes focus on his mouth, and did it again. Tom removed the remaining space between them in an instant, responding enthusiastically, unconsciously deciding that the need for oxygen was highly overrated.  Chakotay eased him away some moments later, trying not to groan at what a thoroughly-kissed Tom Paris looked like. "Still sure?" Chakotay asked, breathlessly. "Positive," Tom whispered.  "If you keep holding *that* back, you'll hurt yourself."  And with that, he was kissing Chakotay again, not paying any attention to the fact that he was in a liplock with a laughing man. At least, he was until his stomach growled insistently.  Chakotay pulled away, grinning. "Come on, let's grab Harry and go get dinner," Chakotay said, deliberately including the Ensign to put Tom more at ease. Tom nodded.  Food sounded like a really good idea.  And he needed to reassure Harry that all was well again. Chakotay stood, giving Tom a hand off the couch before pulling him into his arms, wrapping him up in a wonderful bear hug. Tom sighed.  Damn, he was getting used to this. He leaned back, smiling slightly. "Chakotay," he started, careful to keep his voice serious, even though part of him wasn't happy about it.  "You know I'm pretty crazy about you, too, don't you?" Whoa, and he thought Chakotay was smiling *before* he said that . . . Chakotay kissed Tom again, lightly.  "I know.  Scared?" he asked cautiously, wanting the man to know that yes, he expected the truth from him. "Some," Tom admitted, wryly.  "But I'm dealing with it.  It's not as frightening as I thought it would be.  And it's kind of wonderful.  Chay?" he paused, just for a second.  "Can we talk some, later tonight?  There are things I know about you, that Chak told me. I really want to hear them from you.  I don't like feeling that I have you at a disadvantage.  Okay?" Chakotay nodded without hesitation.  His counterpart had warned him about this, thankfully, in his message.  He smiled, looking forward to sharing it all with Tom.  "I'd love that," he said quietly, before putting an arm around Tom's strong shoulders.  "First things first, though.  Dinner," he said insistently, drawing the other man out of his quarters and down the corridor to the mess hall. Harry looked up when the mess hall doors swooshed open, eyes narrowing slightly when he saw Chakotay and Tom come in, until he saw the smile on Tom's face. Chakotay had his hands on Tom's shoulders and was steering him toward Harry.  Tom laughed, heading over on his own, while Chakotay got dinner for them both. Harry sighed, as Tom fell into the seat next to him, still smiling, watching the Commander over his shoulder. "Everything all right?" Harry asked, quietly, laying a cautious hand on Tom's knee.  He hadn't missed the way Chakotay's face would tighten every time he touched Tom, but he wasn't about to stop, not unless Tom told him to. "Yeah, Har.  Things are okay," Tom said softly, looking at his friend. "You sure?  'Cause I can pound him, if you need me to," Harry said, only half-joking. Tom laughed, as Harry had hoped he would.  "I'm sure.  He won't do it again." "Why did he do it in the first place?" Harry asked, voice slightly hostile. "And why have you forgiven him, already? He must have been pretty damned persuasive."  The last thing he wanted, was to see Tom under the Commander's thumb.  The very thought, that Chakotay might manipulate him like that, made Harry ill. "He said he did it because he wanted people to see the real Tom Paris.  So they wouldn't be surprised when they figured out he was falling in love with me," Tom answered, quietly, taking care of all three of Harry's concerns in one fell swoop. "That's pretty damned persuasive, all right," Harry admitted, impressed that Chakotay had finally volunteered what he'd come to realize quite a while ago. "I certainly thought so," Tom said softly, as Chakotay made it over to them, sliding Tom's tray in front of him, before taking the seat across from Harry. Chakotay looked at Harry, seriously.  "I've given Tom my word that it won't happen again," he said carefully. Harry nodded.  "That's good enough for me, Commander.  I can certainly understand the temptation," he began, smiling at Tom's pleased surprise. "You want to shake people and tell them to look a little harder, dig a little deeper.  You find yourself losing respect for those who take Tom at face value, not ever bothering to see the man underneath it all. Believe me, I've been there," he finished, his voice just a little harder than normal as he looked meaningfully at Chakotay, while giving Tom's leg a slight squeeze. Tom took Harry's hand and squeezed back, smiling warmly at him. "Thank you," he said, softly. Harry let the Commander off the hook his eyes had him twisting on and met Tom's glance.  "You're welcome," he answered firmly, returning the smile. Chakotay sighed to himself.  What Harry had said was perfectly true and it *still* bugged the hell out of him. He knew he'd been one of the people Harry wanted to shake, one of the ones Harry had found himself losing respect for. He felt two sets of eyes on him and looked up from his dinner.  He nodded. "Sometimes the temptation is overwhelming," Chakotay admitted, feeling ridiculously grateful when Tom slid a hand along the table to him. He grabbed it like the lifeline it was. "But, they'll just have to figure it out on their own," he concluded, gesturing slightly toward the rest of the room with his other hand. "Oh, they'll figure it out, all right," Harry predicted, with certainty, grinning at the other two men. "If they keep seeing the two of you together, they won't be able to miss it." Tom and Chakotay looked at each other, smiling, then got busy eating dinner.  Harry deliberately kept the conversation light, just to watch the two act and react with one another.  It was kind of fun, but part of him, inside, was still very seriously bothered by what Chakotay had done.  He resolved to keep an eye on both of them.  The thought of Tom being subjugated to the Commander's will greatly disturbed him. He really wanted this to work out, for Tom's sake, but if Chakotay pulled another stunt like the one he did earlier, he was going to find he had made a serious error. Harry would make sure the man had no doubt of it.  He felt oddly protective of Tom, but not at all proprietary.  It wasn't that *he* wanted Tom; he just didn't like the idea of his best friend getting hurt. Hopefully, Chakotay would realize and respect Tom's limits or he and Harry were going to have a problem.  A very big problem. Chakotay looked up to see Harry's eyes and was a little startled at the not-so-subtle warning he saw there, before the Ensign's face eased into its customary expression.  He nodded slightly, to indicate that he understood and sighed as Harry nodded back.  Message received, loud and clear. He sighed heavily, pulling Tom's attention to him, then grinned. "How about some pool, until dinner settles, then maybe a run, the three of us?" Chakotay asked, smiling at Tom's infectious grin.  Chakotay knew the man missed Sandrine's; a lot of the crew were partial to the resort program, but the bar had been all but home to Tom for a while and he couldn't let go of it.  It was still his favorite program. The three of them made their way out of the mess hall and headed to the holodeck.  Tom was content, happy, and completely unaware of the somewhat uneasy truce called between the two men flanking him on either side, as they entered the bar and headed for a table.                           <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Tom fell back onto the couch, pleasantly exhausted, yet exhilarated, after their run.  Chakotay crashed next to him, stretching tired legs out in front of him. "Now, what?" the Commander asked, smiling slightly. "Talk to me," Tom said, moving closer to Chakotay until they were sitting shoulder to shoulder. "About what?" Chakotay teased, flinching when Tom poked him in the side. "Anything," Tom murmured, leaning over to rest his head on the older man's shoulder.  "Everything.  Start at birth and go from there." Chakotay shook with silent laughter for a moment and ran his hand through Tom's hair, fluffing it up in a way he knew the pilot hated. Tom sighed like a martyr as Chakotay played with his hair, then finally began to speak, telling him all about his earliest memories, his childhood, his family and home. Some of it was familiar, but most was brand new and Tom grinned at the stories he was hearing for the first time. They sat there for hours until Chakotay ran his voice down to practically nonexistent levels, then remained in comfortable silence just sitting next to each other. "Thank you," Tom said at last, turning slightly to look at the man by his side. "You're welcome," Chakotay answered softly, kissing him, hesitantly at first, then with steadily increasing confidence as Tom returned it.  He gently tasted the man, one hand on a long neck feeling the pulse pounding beneath it, and knew his own was keeping pace.  He pulled away after another moment and smothered his groan as he took in a flushed, panting, and extremely turned on Tom Paris. Tom nodded with seeming satisfaction when he realized the Commander was just as aroused as he was, but knew they were both too drained from the earlier conflict to do anything about it, even if it had been the right time. "Breakfast tomorrow?" he asked around a slight yawn. Chakotay nodded, a little disappointed that Tom didn't assume he could spend the night.  Spirits knew he wanted him to.  Spirits knew he just wanted him, period. "I'll come get you at 0700?" he offered tentatively and Tom smiled that perfectly beautiful smile that always made his breathing quicken. "See you then," Tom confirmed, leaning in to kiss him good-night, then sliding off the couch and making his way to the door, before he paused and turned around again. "You know, one of these days I won't want to leave," he said and although the words were teasing, the tone was deadly serious. "One of these days, I won't let you," Chakotay promised him quietly. Tom nodded and exhaled shakily.  "Good," he whispered. "'Night, Chay." "Good night, Tom."                      <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> "Hot date, Commander?" Janeway asked wryly, smothering her grin at her First Officer's impatient squirming. Chakotay didn't know what to say.  He was concerned about saying 'Yes', he *was* on the Captain's time, but saying 'No' would be far from the truth. Truth won out. "The Lieutenant and I have plans for later this evening, Captain," he admitted cautiously. Now, Janeway couldn't *help* but smile.  *The* Lieutenant, as if Voyager only had one.  Which might as well be the case, as far as the Commander was concerned. "This can wait until tomorrow afternoon," Janeway said softly, smiling, as she gestured to the padds strewn on the table before them.  "You're both on Beta shift, correct?" "Yes, Captain," Chakotay answered hesitantly. "Then, I'll expect you to be well-rested, and *paying attention*, tomorrow, Chakotay," she let him off the hook at the same moment she let him off duty. "Thank you, Kathryn," Chakotay said, sharing her smile now that he was officially done for the day. "Enjoy your evening," she called after him as he headed for the door and grinned at his mischievous wink. she mused, looking over her shoulder at the starfield outside her viewport.  She wondered if they'd make a go of it and hoped so, for both their sakes.   The ship and crew the other Tom had described had certainly been a revelation for them all, especially for these two men, who were proceeding with the utmost care and caution into a fledgling relationship.  Kathryn found herself hoping they'd make it, even as part of her tried to picture herself with her Commander.  It didn't work.  His feelings for Tom were too obvious for her to make more than a token effort and she sighed.   she thought fondly and smiled, remembering another Tom's anticipated delight at being an uncle.  With any luck at all.                       <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>