Cold
by Helmboy
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Disclaimer. . . Paramount owns them. I just move them around.

Feedback: I am experimenting in short, small, intimate moments. I invite commentary. Let me know what you see that might be helpful. I thank you in advance for your help and insight.

This is part of a C/P series that I am considering. . . .

c1998 helmboy

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The stars rushed by, streaks of light, cold and unfeeling. Somehow the icy vacuum outside the window warmed him. It would always be night and they would always be lost.

A perfect kind of symmetry. . .

"Tom. . . "

He turned and caught a flash of movement in the window, a reflection of warmth and concern.

"Hello, Harry." Kim moved to stand beside Tom, assessing the calm expression on his friend's face. Quiet. Still. Different.

"What brings you here? Its late."

Tom sighed and smiled slightly. "Its peaceful here, Harry."

Kim nodded, staring out the window, stars moving ever away. He glanced at Tom. "I expected you. . . "

"Sometimes I get tired of things. . . all of my days running one into the next. . . each the same. . . "

"We all do. . . "

"Yeah. . . I know. . . " Tom sighed and squared his shoulders, turning to stare at Harry, his blue eyes unreadable. "Harry. . . if you were home, what would you do?"

Harry stared at the stars, a slight grin on his face. "I probably would have married Libby. Then. . . "

"Not now?"

"I don't know now. I'm not the same man I was."

Tom nodded, his gaze returning to the stars. For a moment there was only silence. "I would make amends."

The softly spoken words were as inscrutable as Tom's face. Full of meaning, yet. . . Harry leaned against the window, turning to stare at Tom, quieted by the tone of his voice.

"I would make amends, Harry. . . I would . . . undo as much as I could."

Harry bit his lip, his heart pounding at the loneliness in Tom's voice. "How would you do that?"

Tom turned to him, his blue eyes flickering with emotion and as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. "I don't know. . . "

Tom pressed his hands against the window, feeling the ice cold of space seeping into his fingers. Around the edge of each a fog formed, the warmth of his own body leaching out. He dropped them, watching his fingerprints fade away.

It was like the Alpha Quad. . .

It leached your energy and your soul and left you drained. . . all the mistakes of your life arrayed around you like some ghost graveyard. . .

Tom smiled suddenly, the poetic turn so untypical. Turning to Harry he clapped him on the shoulder. "Aren't we morose tonight."

Harry grinned slightly, his concerned eyes on Tom. "Tom. . . you know if you ever need me or want to talk. . . "

"I know. . . ," Tom answered, the moment of vulnerability fading as quickly as it came. "I have always known that, Harry. . . "

Harry squeezed Tom's arm slightly. Complicated. You are a complicated man, Tom Paris. . .

"So, do you want to come or not?"

Tom grinned, genuinely heartened. "Of course. I could use the credits."

Harry snorted and turned, glancing at the star field one last time. "It's sure cold in space. . . "

Tom paused, glancing at the spectacle outside the window once more. "It sure is. . . "

The stars continued to pass by long after they left, unchanging. . . cold. . .

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End