They thought that he didn';t notice...the way their eyes would sometimes linger on him when it seemed as if his attention were elsewhere. He saw it all. Sometimes he felt it all. The way that Tom';s hand would linger, not on his shoulder in that brotherly fashion he excused it as, but low on the middle of the back. A yearning touch that tickled at the desire that flared around all three when they were not trying to lie so strongly.

She did the same thing. When they were working together, in close quarters of a jefferies tube. Her hands, questing for some forgotten tool brushing his thigh, her dusky skin darkening momentarily. She wouldn';t acknowledge the glint of desire that would sweep through her eyes and so he, the innocent one, would pretend that nothing had changed. He longed to say something, to do something. His lips ached with it.

B';Elanna was so beautiful with her strength and intelligence, and she could barely see it. Tom, just the opposite, when he appeared strong he was at his weakest. Both so alone, so needy in their ways. Harry wanted to love both; he really did love them already, as a friend, with secret desire.

Maybe he was naive. He never envisioned any passionate scenes of sex with either of them. He loved them simply, knowing that they were together, without him, and that they were holding on so tightly to the lie that everything was exactly as it seemed between the three of them. Just friends. And he was just alone. There was no one else on the ship he wanted. Even the excuse of Libby was gone; he loved her still, but he expected that she would have moved on by now. It was for the best that he had moved on also. It was only that there was no one to go to. He clung to them both, hoping that they wouldn';t tell him to go away. Knowing, as they did, that sometimes they needed the interruption before the truth came out. Clinging desperately to the lie that spread between them keeping them apart as it tied them to one another.

end