The BLTS Archive- Eclipse: Part Two
Fifth in the Jack series
by Bratkatze (bratkatze@aol.com)

---

This arc deals with mature themes of sex and violence in a hopefully
realistic fashion. There are no easy answers in life and there are
none here. That said, Eclipse is posting in two parts for a reason.
Part One is rated  "R".

In order to follow the progression of the saga of Jack Feeney, you
will need to read Part One.  Part Two is not rated - there is no
rating that qualifies for it. The American standards of NC-17 or NR
would not even cover it. So why write it?  Sections of Part Two were
actually written first and I see it as an natural  progression of the
events in Prism. I do not feel the violence is gratuitous,
sensational, or titillating. It's been sitting on my computer for over
two  weeks in various forms. I had reworked it and toned it down, but
then I heard  the terms "rape fantasy" twice in one week and later
read a story in which a  rape victim recovered immediately from a
horrific ordeal upon discovering love. The latter is the true fantasy.
Rape is an ugly, brutal, dehumanizing  crime. I am going with my
original version of Part Two, I challenge anyone to  say this is
someone's fantasy.

There are people on this list and elsewhere who would not want to read
about  such violence. In some cases they live with it everyday. I
respect that. To  that end, while what happens in Part Two of Eclipse
will fuel the actions and  interactions for the remainder of this
series, however far it goes, you DO  NOT need to read Part Two to
follow the story. The next segment will be  written in such a fashion,
that the events in Eclipse Part Two will be dealt  with, but you won't
need to go through the details. You will need to read  Eclipse Part
One to follow the storyline, however.

If you are going to pass this on, please respect that many people have
issues  with the themes discussed here in. The stories shouldn't go to
minors and the  above notes should stay with each Part. You would be
doing a great disservice  to the reader to pass it on without the
appropriate warning.

BratKatze

---

Tom turned towards the door, ignoring the hammering of his heart.
"Jack. What  a surprise." He managed to say.

Feeney strode in. "Who the hell do you think you are Paris?"

"Hello Jack. Nice to see you too." Tom put on his best, most distant
smile.

"Cut the crap, Paris. What the fuck are you up to?"

"Jack."

"Don't Jack me, you sneaky little shit." Feeney spat, slammed one fist
into  the bulkhead. "Having Tuvok change your codes and ratting me out
to that  bastard."

"Jack, Tuvok did not change my codes nor have I spoken to him."

"The fuck you didn't Tommy." Jack reached for the first object within
his  reach and hurled it against the far wall. Tom flinched as the
small sculpture  shattered. "That damn Vulcan's been watching me like
a hawk and he wanted  logs of my whereabouts while I was on duty. What
have you been saying?"

"I haven't said anything to Tuvok, Jack. I had the codes changed cause
I  didn't much appreciate Gavin having them. That was a little much.
It's over."

"Excuse me?"

"Between us, it's over Jack. It was good while it lasted, but it's
over, for  good this time."

"Over? I don't think so Tommy." Jack sneered.

"Jack, don't make this any harder than it needs to be. We were good
for while  but something has changed."

"Yeah something changed Tommy. You decided to whore your ass up the
ladder.  First B'Elanna, then Chakotay, is the Captain next? Or do you
only spread  yourself for the Maquis?"

"I don't care how you got in, but get out Jack. Now."

"Not till I'm through."

"You are through Jack. Now, before I do call Tuvok, please leave. I
promised  Harry and B'Elanna I'd be at the party. They are expecting
me. I have to go."

Feeney leaned his head to one side and regarded Tom. His eye took in
the  carefully chosen outfit and the impatience. He pursed his lips
and shook his  head. "No." He said simply.

"No what Jack?"

"You're not going." Deliberately Jack's hands move to his waist and
began to  undo his belt.

A chill settled over Tom. This was going to get ugly. "I am, Jack. And
I'm  not going to have sex with you. I suggest you leave, Chief,
before I have  Security escort you to the brig."

"You're not going. Your staying here with me and you're going to
spread your  ass and suck my cock until I tell you differently,
Lieutenant."

"Get out Jack."

But Jack ignored him and proceeded to loosen his shirt.

"Fine, you stay in. I'm going out." Tom grabbed his jacket and stalked
past  Feeney to the cabin door. It didn't open. "Computer open door."
Silence.  "Computer I said open the cabin door."

"It won't work Tommy. I've overridden the system for a complete
maintenance  check. The computer is offline and will respond to my
voice pattern only."  Jack's voice came from the other room, calm and
in control.

"Damn it Jack." Exasperated Tom pounded the door twice before turning
from  it. Jack was waiting by the bedroom. He had removed his shirt
and shoes and  was sliding his trousers past his hips. His cock was
already partially erect.  Since Tom was determined not to have sex as
much as Jack seemed determined  to, this was going to be a long
evening.

"Now Thomas take off your pretty clothes and go back in there and lie
face  down on the bed."

"Jack I said no. Not now. Not ever again. If you don't unlock this
door, I am  going to call Security and have you arrested."

"I don't think so." With a smile more triumphant than pleasant Jack
held up  Tom's comm badge. "Besides, what grounds would you have? You
gave me your  access codes before. Remember? Now stop being difficult
Tommy."

"I said no, Jack. I'm not going to fuck you now. So cancel your
override and  get out."

"Wrong flyboy. You're going to do exactly what I tell you to all
night. I've  missed having my dick in your throat. Now strip."

"Fuck you, Jack."

Jack smiled at Tom, an ugly vicious smile. It held no warmth,
tenderness, or  humor. "You will," he promised as he kicked off his
pants and he reached for  Tom.

Tom was expecting the move. Already on the defensive he swung first,
his fist  contacting with Jack's jaw and sending the other man
staggering backward but  not felling him. Jack swung his head from
side to side clearing his vision  before charging Tom. For several
minutes they grappled, exchanging blows  before crashing into the
door. Tom winded, was trapped against Feeney's naked  body.

"You want it rough Tommy?" Jack's hand moved between them to grasp
Tom's  crotch and squeeze it. Hard. "I can be rough, very rough."

Tom saw stars and felt his knees give. Only the pressing weight of
Feeney's  body kept him upright. Feeney's hands slid between them, the
fingers clumsily  working at the opening of Tom's pants. Then one hand
was in. The thick  fingers grabbing, pinching, fondling.

Tom forced himself to relax and allow the greedy hands to touch him.
Feigning  submission, Tom allowed Jack to open his pants and slide
both hands inside.  As Jack moved to press Tom closer to him, Tom's
head snapped forward,  slamming into Jack's nose. He was rewarded with
a bellow of pain, a spurt of  blood, and the sickening feel of tissue
and cartilage collapsing.

"Son of a bitch." Feeney roared, his voice thick as blood ran down his
throat.

Tom pressed his advantage following quickly with a right to the
stomach and a  left uppercut to Jack's chin. Jack spun and sank to his
knees, hand still  pressed to his ruined nose.

Not waiting, Tom headed to the emergency comm system to call, . . . to
call  whom, Tuvok? He just reached the hidden panel when a hand
reached out and  spun him away. His ruined face grotesque, and covered
with blood, Jack drove  himself at Tom, fists pounding blindly into
ribs, stomach, kidneys. The  momentum of the charge carried them over
the couch to crash through the glass  table adjacent to it. Tom's
right hand landed first and Tom felt the bones of  his wrist snap as
the rest of his and Jack's weight landed full on it.  Stunned
momentarily by the pain, Tom found himself pinned to the floor with
Jack straddling him at the waist. Hate and fury blazed from Jack's
eyes as  his hands moved to Tom's neck and pressed in, cutting off
air. As Tom gasped  and reached for his face, Jack pressed harder. The
blood pounded in Tom's  ears and his vision began to swim. Growing
weaker Tom struggled at the hands  choking him. Jack only pressed
harder, the veins in his arms bulging to the  surface. Blood dripped
from Jack's face onto Tom's face. Blackness began to  creep around the
edges of Tom's vision. The hands he'd wrapped around Jack's  felt like
lead and fell to the floor.

Not like this, not to die like this.

For an instant the blackness ebbed as the lights of Tom's life flashed
by,  the blackness returned swallowing him with a comforting numbness.

Feeney watched Paris' eyes roll back as he lost consciousness. After a
moment  he released his hold and felt for a pulse. Racing, but strong.
Paris would be  out for a while. Jack collapsed next to Paris willing
the dizziness and  nausea to fade. The stupid fuck would pay and pay
dearly. Groaning as he  heaved himself to his feet, Jack went to check
the comm system. Good, Paris  hadn't had a chance to activate it.
Gingerly he felt his nose. Shit. Broken.

Jack wandered about the cabin for a few moments attempting to regain
his  equilibrium before finding his clothing and comm badge. He tapped
it. "Feeney  to Gavin."

"Gavin here. You all right Jack? You sound strange."

Of course I sound strange he thought, Paris just broke my nose. "I'm
fine. I  need you to meet me in Paris' quarter's with a regenerator
and a pair of gel  cuffs."

"Jack what's up? Gel cuffs? A regener . . ."

"Gavin just shut up and get here, now. I'll explain when you get here.
Feeney  out."

Dizzy with pain, Jack sank down next to Paris and awaited Marcus
Gavin.

He didn't need to wait long. Gavin, as always was efficient. In less
than  five minutes after Jack had commed him he was at the door,
regenerator and  cuffs in hand, buzzing for admittance.

"Anybody see you?"

"No, I didn't think you want . . . shit Jack, what the hell is going
on?"  Gavin's eyes searched the cabin taking in Feeney, bloody and
naked, the  ruined quarters, and Paris, crumpled unconscious on the
floor, his pants  opened and bruises darkening at his throat.

"Lover's quarrel."

"Some quarrel, Jack. Did you kill him?"

"No. Give me that thing," Jack demanded, reaching for the regenerator.

Gavin handed him the instrument and returned to inspect the cabin.
"Shit,  Jack this place is a mess."

"I don't give a fuck about it. Paris broke my nose. Damn this
machine."

"Maybe you ought to go see the Doc Jack. It looks bad."

"Don't be an ass Gavin, how am I going to explain this? Sorry Doc, I
ran into  Paris' head while I trying to get into his pants."

"Might be worth a try, it looks bad."

"Go replicate me some whiskey. Use Paris' account."

Gavin shrugged and stepped over Paris. "Whatever you say, Jack."

By the time Gavin had finished selecting the whiskey, Jack finished
with the  regenerator.

"I dunno Jack. Doesn't look too straight to me." Gavin shook his head
dubiously.

"It will do for now. I can rebreak it later in the holodeck playing
volleyball or some other shit."

"So now what?"

"I'm taking a sip of whiskey then I'm getting what I came for and then
some.  Paris owes me." Wincing, Jack knelt down next to Paris and
began tugging at  the open pants.

"You maybe want some help there Jack?" Arms crossed before him, Gavin
held  out a utility knife in his right hand.

"Yeah."

"Tell you what, you take another look at that nose of yours and I'll
take  care of the clothes." Effectively pushing Jack out of the way
Gavin began  cutting through Paris' clothes.


It hurt. His hand hurt, his back hurt, his head, his neck. He felt
strange.  Groaning, Tom tried opening an eye, then the other, as the
world swam dizzily  past him. Hands pressed him down. For a moment he
relaxed as sensation came  back to him. Hands on the bare flesh of his
shoulders, the coolness of the  room, the pressure on his legs, hands
touching him intimately. Jack!

With a cry, he jerked up only to find himself imprisoned by a pair of
strong  arms from behind. Instantly he became aware of several things.
He was being  held semi-upright in a reclining position, he was nude,
his legs were drawn  up and spread wide and Jack was between them
preparing him for sex. Two thick  lubricated fingers were inside him
lubricating and stretching him.  Instinctively, Tom tried to close his
legs. The arms circling him tightened  painfully in warning.

"Good morning lover." Jack said pleasantly as a third finger slipped
in.

Tom shift his hips up and forward against the pain. "Jack, please."

Jack ignored him and speaking instead to the man who held him
imprisoned.  "See what an eager little fuck he is. Can't wait to get
my cock in you, can  you Tommy? See how he's bucking for it." Deeper
the fingers slid.

Tom gasped aloud, arching against the pressure. "Damn it Jack. Stop.
Please."  Then the pain was gone, leaving only echoes of the
violation. Tom lowered his  legs and tried to curl himself, but Jack's
hands reached for his ankles,  immobilizing him.

"Not yet Tommy, we still have to party."

"Jack, don't do this."

Jack reached and grabbed Tom's scrotum giving it vicious squeeze. Tom
arched  and cried out. Quickly Jack leaned forward and grabbed Tom's
chin turning his  face toward him.

"Stop it Tom. This is all your fault. You should have just said yes
earlier.  Now it's going to hurt and it's going to hurt bad. Got it?
You don't say no  to me Paris. Ever. Let this be a lesson to you."

Jack nodded to Gavin and together they lifted Paris from the floor.
Jack at  the ankles, Gavin at the shoulders.

"Where?" Gavin asked.

"Bedroom's through there." Jack indicated with a nod of his head. "I'm
planning on enjoying this."

"Damn it Jack, I said NO. Gavin, put me down. Listen to me nothing's
been  done so far that needs to be reported. Don't let Jack talk you
into something  that will land you in the brig." Tom twisted in their
grasp, violently  struggling to break free of their hold.

"Hold still. Damn it. SHIT." Jack swore a blue streak as one of Paris'
legs  slipped and flailing caught his still injured nose. He dropped
both legs and  clutched his face.

"Enough." Gavin roared, and tossing Paris to the floor delivered two
well  placed kicks to his ribs. Grasping the curled body, he
manhandled Paris onto  the bed, pinioning him face down with a knee at
the small of the back. With  practiced ease, Gavin reached for Paris'
hands wrenching them back and  fastening the gel cuffs tight above the
wrists.

The pain from the broken wrist lanced thorough Tom. He fought the
blackness  and nausea not to pass out.

"You want I should fuck him for you too Jack?"

Gavin's voice held just enough superiority and amusement to test
Jack's  limits. "Just shut up Gavin. Just spread his legs a bit and
hold him still."  He snapped.

Unceremoniously Gavin forced Tom's legs open with a knee.

Pinned by Gavin, Tom watched Jack approach. Bloody, naked, his cock
rock hard  and ready, Jack's body looked every inch the weapon he
intended it to be.  There was no way Tom could stop him and no one was
going to come looking for  him when he didn't show at the party. His
body would belong to Jack tonight,  however Jack wanted and for as
long as he wanted. There was no choice, there  never had been.

Taking a swig from the whiskey bottle, Jack watched Paris' face as he
approached. Paris was beaten and he knew it, the knowledge was written
in his  eyes. Jack passed Gavin the bottle and moved to the bed to
claim his prize.  Gavin took a drink and moved aside to grip Paris'
arm and shoulders. The bed  dipped as Jack climbed on, moving slowly
between Paris' parted legs; his  hands running possessively up the
thighs, moving intimately, reinforcing that  there was nothing Paris
could do to prevent his touch.

Grasping Paris' hips Jack forced them into position and pried him open
with  rough fingers, before pressing forward into the tense resistant
body. A small  cry escaped Paris' lips as Jack entered him. Complete
penetration was easy.  Hampered by the cuffs, nausea, defeat, and
Gavin, Paris only made feeble  attempts to throw him off.

Slowly Jack began to move. Paris' struggles only made the fuck
sweeter, so  Jack took his time building to climax, letting Paris feel
each stroke of his  cock. Each thrust proving to Paris what his body
was meant for and who had  exclusive rights to fuck it. It was only as
he came closer that the thrusts  became quicker and more violent,
pounding into Paris till with a cry of  triumph, he thrust hard and
deep almost sending Paris into the backboard  before collapsing.

As he lay panting, still shuddering in Paris, Jack became aware of
Gavin. He  could tell the other man was hard as a rock. Gavin had
shown some interest in  Paris before. While Jack had been lubricating,
he'd noted Gavin's fingers  absently tweaking the nipples on Paris'
chest. Normally Jack didn't share,  but he was pissed, hurt, and
angry. Suddenly the thought of having someone  else fuck Paris seemed
like a good idea.

"You want a piece of him Gav?"

"I thought you didn't share Jack."

"I owe you one and he is a tight, sweet fuck when you get right down
to it."

"Sure. I've never done a lieutenant before."

"Same as any other fuck Gav, just give him what you got. I'll hold him
for  you."

As Gavin moved from the bed, and began methodically to remove his
shoes,  trousers, underwear, Jack pinioned Paris, clamping a hard hand
at the base of  his neck. Despite the grip, Paris struggles increased.
Lifting his body he  nearly succeeded in throwing Jack off balance and
off the bed. Now naked from  the waist down Gavin reached out,
grasping Paris by the hair stilled his  struggles. "Whores don't say
no." Gavin's whispered softly just before  backhanding Paris, hard, on
the side of the face.

Tom's lip split and his head snapped. For a dizzying moment he thought
he  would pass out. As the world spun, hands rough moved him into
position.

Effortlessly, Gavin lifted Paris' hips and pressed his cock against
him.

Tom met Jack's eyes, silently mouthing 'no'. Jack smiled, looked to
Gavin and  nodded. Gavin forced his cock in. Tom's groan of pain and
despair went  unheeded and Gavin began to pump.

To his surprise, Jack found he enjoyed watching almost as much as
actually  fucking. Pinning Paris immobile so that Gavin could mount
him, then watching  Paris thrash helplessly against Gavin's
penetration made Jack's cock twitch.  Gavin was economy of movement,
pumping and thrusting at the hips with a  punishing violence that
spoke of nothing but a regard for his own pleasure.  Better still was
watching Paris' face as Gavin used him with those hard, sure  thrusts;
the knowledge that his body was involuntarily giving another
pleasure, that it wouldn't end here, and that there wasn't anything he
could  do to stop it written in the blue eyes. The grunts, soft moans
of pain, and  slick sounds of contact as the long penis coated with
semen, lubricant, and  blood moved in and out. Because of him. He
controlled them both.

Jack was rock hard and aching when Gavin's climax slammed into Paris.
As with  everything he did, Gavin's climax came silently and
violently. He came  without words and minimal contact to the body he
was using. Simply surging  forward and shuddering for several moments
as he spelt himself deep in Paris.  When he was done, Gavin withdrew
without a word and moved to change position  with Jack.

Jack hadn't intended to fuck Paris so quickly after Gavin. He had no
desire  to feel another's still warm semen on him, but he was aching.
He needed to  bury himself in Paris, confirm his dominance. Pin Paris
beneath him again,  and drive into Paris till he broke.

Tom barely felt one withdraw before the other was already moving on
him and  pressing in again. He couldn't stop the insertion of the
hard, ready cock  into him. He could only lay helpless as the body
above him began to move, the  thick cock sliding in, pushing through
the moist swollen tissues; the excess  semen trickled out, dribbling
down his thighs making him sticky and unclean.  Jack touched him more
than the other. Jack's hands moved over him, reminding  him who was on
him, thrusting a hard, angry cock into his body. The other had  been
more impersonal, touching him only to hold position, and fucking him
like whore. Jack fucked him with his whole body, with hands and
fingers that  gripped and pinched, with a heavy weight that sweated as
it covered and  pressed into him, and with harsh grunts and a hot
breath on his neck and in  his ear echoing each painful, violent
thrust.

As Jack finished he collapsed, his body spasming and pressing Tom
under him.  For a long time they lay like that. Tom trapped underneath
the Jack's weight,  his wrist screaming in agony, the erection
withering inside him. The only  sound in the room, Jack's slightly
wheezy breath as it flowed through his  damaged nose. Then Jack was
moving up and away, his cock smearing a trail of  blood and semen. Tom
tried rolling away, but hard hands dragged him forward  to lie between
Jack and Gavin. For a long time Jack and Gavin sat quietly on  either
side of him passing the bottle between them while Tom desperately
tried to control his shaking, hoping they passed out before
remembering he  was there.

The bottle was three-quarters done before either Jack or Gavin
remembered him.

"Come on Tommy, you look like you could use a drink." Jack smiled. And
he  pulled Tom upwards to lean him onto Gavin.

Gavin's arms wrapped tight around Tom, pressing him into his body.
Tom's back  and bound arms pressed against Gavin's chest, his ass and
thigh against an  erection already beginning to stir. As Jack tipped
the bottle to his lips,  Tom felt Gavin's hands start to move over
him. Touching, exploring. Twisting  desperately away, he knocked the
bottle from Jack's grasp, spilling it all  over Jack and himself.

"You stupid shit," Jack raged over Gavin's howling laughter. Jack's
blow sent  Tom over the edge of the bed and onto the floor, landing
heavily on one  shoulder. For a moment the world dimmed again but Tom
fought to remain  conscious. If he passed out now, he'd never get
away. Above him, on the bed,  Jack still cursed while Gavin laughed
all the harder. To all the gods and  forces he knew Tom prayed they
would assume he passed out from the fall.  Slowly, using his hips and
shoulders he began silently, painfully inching his  way to the foot of
the bed where, on a pile of discarded clothes, a comm  badge twinkled,
still active.

He was merely inches from it when Gavin decided he was close enough.

"Well if he won't drink, he might as well fuck." Gavin said the words
as if  rape were the most logical thing in the world.

Rough hands lifted him from the floor and threw him back onto the bed.
Tom's  weight fell on the hands still bound behind him and his wrist
blazed in  agony. As he arched to remove the weight, they fell on him,
pinning him down.  Hands pushed at his shoulders, spread his legs, and
lifted his hips. A body  moved between his thighs and a cock, swollen
and ready, brushed against him.  Hands held him still, fingers parted
him, the head of the cock moved into  position pressing against him
and in one hard, blinding motion ripped into  him.

Even as he screamed, Tom's body arched higher trying to accept the
intruder.  The grip tightened, holding him immobile and helpless as
jarring, violent,  body thrusts began slamming the cock into him.
Thrusts of anger, using him,  forcing the cock deeper and deeper till
Tom thought he would spilt apart from  the searing pain.

Watching Gavin pumping rapidly as Paris arched and writhed, assisting
in his  own rape, proved too much for Jack. His erection came roaring
back long  before Gavin was done with his turn. Not one to wait, Jack
straddled Paris  about the neck and grasping the thrashing head
between his knees pressed his  cock to Paris' face as he watched.
Gavin accompanied each thrust with a  curse. The whiskey had dulled
his senses making orgasm elusive. Frustrated,  he pounded his cock
into Paris, muscular ass and hips moving piston-like  between Paris'
spread thighs. With his bound hands still trapped beneath him  and
impaled by Gavin, Paris was completely helpless. Never more beautiful,
never more vulnerable as he writhed helpless between them. For Jack,
it was  too much.

Warm, sticky cum sprayed across Tom's black eye, his bruised cheek,
and  swollen lips. If he had the energy Tom would have cried, but all
he could do  was arch helplessly as the semen dripped down his face as
above him the other  body continued pumping and thrusting into him.
Hammering away at all he was  until, it too, finally jerked and
released a load.

He floated in a seemingly endless hell of hard hands pressing,
touching, and  grasping him; moving him onto his back, his stomach,
his knees. Forcing him  to take them one after the other after the
other, till Tom couldn't tell  whose cock was ripping into him and who
was holding him down, cursing at him,  touching him, forcing either a
cock or foul whisky down his throat, all the  time laughing at his
increasingly feeble attempts to cover and defend himself  or his
softer pleas to stop. They came in his body, in his mouth, and on his
face, and he thought he would drown in the taste, feel, and smell of
them.

Jack moved easily above Paris, taking his pleasure slowly. There was
no  longer any resistance in the body beneath him. Paris lay under
him, moaning  softly and writhing slightly, but no longer actively
fighting the penetration  of his body. Gavin, drunk and bored, had
long ago fallen asleep and was  snoring loudly somewhere on the floor.
Jack had removed the gel cuff hours  earlier, as they were no longer
needed. All fight had been fucked out of  Paris. Paris whimpered and
shuddered as Jack climaxed in him, but didn't move  as Jack collapsed
on him and later withdrew, exhausted, to fall to the floor.

As Jack rested on the floor, Paris remained incoherent on the now
filthy bed,  frozen in the position Jack had last fucked him, on his
back, arms drawn  above his head, legs parted, eyes swollen shut, his
nude body now covered  with darkening bruises and coated with drying
mix of sweat, saliva, blood,  semen, piss, and whiskey. Moaning softly
and trembling, he seemed unaware  Jack had finished.

"Well he's a stinking mess." Swaying, his eyes glassy from drink and
sleep,  Gavin regarded the figure on the bed with disgust.

"Shit." Jack swore form the floor as he searched for his clothes
amidst the  broken wreckage of the room.

"Now what Jack?"

"What do you mean now what Gav?" Jack snapped.

"What are you going to do with him?"

"Nothing."

"You're just going to leave him there? Moaning like that."

"Yeah, I was planning on it."

"What happens when he misses a shift and someone comes looking."

"Ain't no one going to come looking. He's off duty till 0700
tomorrow."

"You think he's going to be fit for duty tomorrow?"

Slipping on his wrinkled shirt, Jack walked to the bed and regarded
Paris a  moment, then shrugged. "Why the hell not? Nothing wrong him a
little soap,  water, and a regenerator won't cure."

Slowly Gavin's eyes took in the blood, the slight bluish tinge to lips
that  had nothing to do with bruising, the complete lack of movement
or  recognition, and shook his head. "I dunno Jack, I'm thinking maybe
you got a  problem."

Jack regarded Gavin with contempt. "I didn't see you complaining when
you  were shoving that dick of yours down his throat or up his ass,
Gav. Thought  you were trying to send it straight through, the way you
were putting it to  him."

"I'm just saying he don't look too good is all. And I ain't taken with
the  idea of spending the rest of the trip in the brig."

"What in the hell for? Shit, Gav you had me there for a moment." Jack
snorted  and shook his head before going to find his pants. "This was
a private fuck  party between members of the crew. Nothing wrong with
that."

"As I recall Jack, Paris did say no."

"And as I recall Gav," Jack reminded him, his voice cold, sneering,
"no one  says 'no' to me. Besides everybody knows I'm shagging his ass
anyway. No one  is going to give two shits if it got a little rough or
if I had a little  company. As long as he shows up for duty tomorrow,
not even Janeway will  care. Mid-shift I'll come back and throw him in
the shower and run the  regenerator. Satisfied?"

"I guess."

"Good, I'm starving. Right now even Neelix's cooking sounds pretty
good.  Nothing like a little morning bump and grind to get the juices
flowing eh?  Gav? Shit Gav, stop staring at him. Paris ain't going
anywhere. Now come'on,  I don't know about you but I still got to
shower and change before hitting  the mess. Paris may be a good fuck
but I don't want to smell like him for the  whole day."

---

It hurt. The pain was everywhere. More pain than he'd even known.
There was  nothing but pain and cold and darkness. Waves of swirling
darkness. Nowhere  to run, nowhere to hide when the darkness came and
lifted him, carrying him  on a dizzying ride deeper and deeper into
nothingness. He screamed, but no  one heard. He was alone. Then
darkness was in him, flowing into him, choking  him. He tried to fight
but he was so tired, tired of being alone, tired of  the pain, there
was nothing left, so he let go and fell into the embracing  void.
Internal sensors registered life signs falling rapidly out of safety
parameters and instituted an emergency beam out. Tom Paris
materialized naked  in Sick Bay, choking on the mixture of whiskey,
blood, bile, and semen of his  own vomit.

---

The End
(and end of series at the moment)