The BLTS Archive - Seduction
third in the Of Love & Logic series
by Yvette (yvette@ecn.net.au)

---

"Hey, Harry!  You gonna eat that thing or adopt it?"  Tom Paris'
breezy question penetrated the thick fog surrounding the young Ensign
as he joined him in the Mess hall.

Harry smiled half-heartedly. "Just trying to figure out how to get it
into my stomach without having it go down my throat."

"There are worse things that could go down your throat, Harry,"  Tom's
habitually sleazy comeback also lacked the usual punch.

It was early and the Mess Hall was practically deserted.  Since the
Captain and Chakotay had been beamed back onboard the  ship, both Tom
and Harry had taken to eating meals together in an effort to avoid
the well-meaning but frequently painful questions from their friends
and crewmates.

The Captain and First Officer had been rescued from New Earth after a
daring space battle with a Vidiian ship carrying the cure for the
disease that had meant their banishment to the planet many weeks
previous.

For B'Elanna, Kes and Neelix, having the Captain and Chakotay back
onboard meant that Tuvok and Harry could get back together and Tom
and Chakotay could also resume their relationship.  But things were
never as easy as they seemed.

Far from being elated at the return of his lover, Tom appeared even
more haunted than before.  His usual smart aleck remarks  and cheerful
facade had disappeared completely over the past few months - Harry
was the only person Tom made an effort for these days.  Probably
because if there was one person onboard who could relate to losing a
lover, it was Harry.  Tuvok had terminated their relationship barely
hours after taking over the Captaincy, and Harry had been a different
person since that time.

The cheerful young Ensign performed his duties with a grim silence
that was daunting to watch - although almost anything was better than
seeing him confronting Tuvok.  At times, it had seemed almost as if
he had been trying to force Tuvok to throw him in the brig.

As Tom and Harry ate their meals in silence, Harry pondered his
friend's relationship with the First Officer.  For all his easy-going
ways, Tom had been thrilled when Chakotay had finally noticed the
Pilot long enough for Tom to get him into bed.  Harry had been happy
for his friend, having spent many a long evening listening to Tom's
fantasies about Chakotay.

He had begun to feel uneasy when Tom and Chakotay had  been dating
exclusively for several months, and it had become clear just how
unequal the relationship was.

It was easy to see that Chakotay was amused by Tom's irreverent
remarks and cheeky manner. Tom's mischievous  pranks and outrageous
behaviour had frequently resulted in both public and private
punishment from Tom's older lover, and their sex life was fantastic,
if Tom's stories were anything to go by.  But Chakotay had made it
clear to Tom from the start of their relationship that he wasn't
interested in anything serious.  As much as the First Officer denied
the fact, it was clear to Tom  - and to Harry - that Chakotay was in
love with Captain Janeway.

And Tom Paris was in love with Chakotay.  Deeply, wildly, impossibly
in love - so much so that it hurt Harry to think of it.  It was Tom's
best friend who watched, troubled, as Tom's deepening love for his
mate seemed to go unnoticed by Chakotay.  Tom hid his feelings well,
and maintained the fiction that theirs was a relationship of
convenience.

Harry knew that Tom had found it even harder to maintain that fiction
when Chakotay wasn't around.  The crew assumed, quite naturally, that
Chakotay and the Captain would get together whilst on New Earth, and
it seemed sometimes as though that helped the majority of the crew
cope with the loss of their Captain and First Officer.  For Tom, it
had meant weeks of listening to the rest of the crew speculate as to
whether or not the Captain and Chakotay would start a family on New
Earth, and how 'fortunate' it was that two people so perfectly
matched should be the ones stranded, and not two completely
incompatible crewmembers.

Tom had lost weight he could ill afford to lose, and Harry knew he
hadn't been sleeping well.  It would be hard to miss that fact, as
Tom and Harry spent most of their nights together these days.  The
two friends had sought comfort in their close friendship, and spent
many nights just hanging out together so that neither would have to
go back to empty quarters.

Harry remembered early on after Voyager had left New Earth, and Tuvok
had refused to alter course for the Vidiian ships  which might have
yielded a cure for the Captain and Chakotay.  He had gone straight to
Tom's quarters after his shift, so furious at Tuvok's behaviour that
he had practically yelled at his best friend, and it had taken some
time to realise that Tom wasn't feeling the same way.  There was no
anger in those blue  eyes, only a sad resignation and a curious
sympathy.

"Tom, why the hell aren't you screaming, too?"  Harry was beginning
to feel like the only person on Voyager who *cared* about the Captain
and Chakotay.

"Screaming isn't going to make Tuvok change his mind, Harry, and
maybe he's right, anyway.  Taking Voyager into Vidiian territory
can't be the smartest move to make."

Tom's voice was gentle, the sympathy in his gaze overwhelming.
Somehow, it only made Harry angrier.

"What about Chakotay, Tom?  Don't try and tell me you don't love him,
I've been your best friend for way too long.  You *worship* that man,
Tom!  And he's alone on some planet with possibly the only person on
Voyager aside from you that he would consider having a relationship
with. Why aren't you tearing the place apart?"

Harry was almost crying now, his face showing his desperation and
complete incomprehension at Tom's passivity.

Tom had sighed, and turned away from his friend to face the window.
When he spoke, his voice was calm, but very quiet.  "I used to be
angry, Harry.  When Chakotay and I first started sleeping together, I
knew how he felt about the Captain, but I thought I could change
that.  Thought I could be enough for him  - that I could make him
forget about her.  He was always straight  with me, though.  He liked
my attitude - said it made life interesting.  So I'd be the perfect
lover for him, always ready with a smart remark, never stepping over
the line, God Forbid, and telling him that I loved him.  And after a
while I began to realise that he'd always jump whenever she called,
no matter what we were doing.  As soon as her voice came over the
comm line he'd forget that I existed."

Harry's anger had evaporated as suddenly as it had come.  The stark
recitation shouldn't have been a surprise; he'd always known that Tom
put more effort into the relationship than anyone gave him credit
for.  But Chakotay? Surely he could see what a gift he had in Tom.
How could anyone ignore that?

Tom continued, "I spent a lot of time in the Holodeck in the early
days, Harry.  I programmed a few mean-looking bar types into the
Sandrine's program and I'd go down there and beat the hell out of
them, completely wreck the place.  I used to get so *angry* at him
for not seeing what he was doing to me.  But eventually I realised
that she would always come first, and that I was lucky to get
anything at all."

He turned back around to face Harry, and his eyes were filled with an
agony so deep it was painful to look at.  "He got what he wanted in
the end, didn't he, Harry?  I was just a stand in, until they finally
got it together.  As pilot of Voyager I want them both back, here,
where they belong.  But as Tom Paris?  How could I want to see him
every day, happy and loving her?  Giving her what he never really gave
me? I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry was feeling nothing more now than guilt.  "God, Tom -  how could
you have lived with that?  You loved him so much!  How could you be
with him, knowing how he felt?"

Tom gave a wry smile and the best answer he could under the
circumstances.

"Being with him without love was better than being without him,
Harry.  I had eight months.  I never expected more than a few weeks -
I kept thinking, he'll end it soon.  But I had eight months, Harry,
eight months of being with him. It has to be enough."

The pain and the anger Tom and Harry both felt was only bearable when
in the company of the other and the crew of Voyager had gotten used
to seeing the two together at all times.  Those who didn't know them
well speculated on the nature of their relationship, but their close
friends knew that no-one could replace Tuvok or Chakotay.

And now, in the days since the Captain and Chakotay had returned to
the ship, Harry was aware that Tom and Chakotay were sleeping
together again.  It was hard not to be concerned for his friend, when
it looked as though Tom was no happier now than he had been when
Chakotay was on New Earth.  He'd  attempted to bring the subject up
with Tom several times, but Tom wasn't talking.

Sighing, Harry drained his glass of leola root juice and, when Tom
had finished his own meal, the two friends made their way to the
Bridge in silence.  Even when they weren't talking much, Tom's
company was easier to bear than anyone else's these days.

---

Tuvok gazed impassively at the viewscreen of his quarters, the
reflection of the stars seemingly drawing his entire attention at
that moment. His face was completely expressionless, his body still,
arms folded across his chest, legs slightly apart, breathing  very
shallow but steady.  It was very late into the third shift, normally
a time Tuvok would spend sleeping or in deep meditation.

After becoming acting Captain of Voyager, however, Tuvok had had less
opportunity to enter the deep trance-like state of the Vulcan
meditation ritual, and the shorter, lighter periods of contemplation
were all he had been able to afford.  With Captain Janeway back in
place, Tuvok was finding it difficult to break the rigid habit he had
developed in the time she had been away.

Things had not proceeded satisfactorily in the Captain's absence.
Tuvok had mentally retraced each and every step he had taken after
Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay had been marooned on New Earth
and still he could not see where a different action would have been
possible.  He had  behaved in a logical, practical manner, and yet
everything had gone wrong.

Crew morale had been at an all time low, with many of the crew -
particularly the Maquis members - not even bothering to hide the
distrust and contempt they felt for Tuvok.  The bridge had been a
tense, silent place to work.  Tom Paris barely spoke a word in the
weeks while his lover had been left on a planet with the one person
capable of replacing Tom in his affections.  Tuvok considered the very
high likelihood that the Captain and  Chakotay had begun a
relationship whilst on New Earth, and could not foresee an
improvement in the pilot's temperament any time soon.

And then there was Harry.

Harry - his young, beautiful lover - who had not even looked at him
in days, not spoken a word to him outside of his duties in weeks.
Harry - who's passionate mouth had remained fixed in a grim, angry
line - who's deft, sensuous hands jabbed at his control panel without
any of the fluency that had become so much a part of his nature.

Tuvok had known that the crew would have a hard time accepting him in
Captain Janeway's place.  Captaining them had been a difficult
enough task, but it would have been impossible, not to mention
completely inappropriate, to be sexually intimate with one of his
junior bridge officers whilst maintaining the proper distance between
Captain and crew.  His calm, rational explanation of this had not
appealed to his young lover.

Harry was at first incredulous, then angry - and finally ...
remembering the pain he had caused Harry, Tuvok inwardly grimaced.

He had not handled the situation well.

It was hardly surprising that Harry now ignored him completely in
every personal sense.  His bridge reports were delivered in a flat
monotone - the weeks they had been apart adding a painfully brutal
disinterest to Harry's tone of voice.

The Captain and Chakotay had been back on board only a matter of
days, but the difference in the crew was immediately apparent.
Happy to have their Captain and First Officer back onboard, the
majority of the crew members had not yet noticed the silence of their
once overly chatty Conn officer.  The dark shadows under Tom Paris'
eyes had been attributed to the long hours spent repairing Voyager
after the Vidiian attack.  It was hard to miss the lines of stress
and fatigue on Chakotay's face, too - but was generally ascribed to a
failed relationship between him and the Captain.

There were those in the crew who recalled the relationship between
Tom Paris and Chakotay before New Earth, and a very small number of
crew who knew just how deeply in love Tom Paris had been with the
First Officer, but the majority of Voyager's crew seemed more
interested in speculating on just how close the Captain and Chakotay
had become whilst on New Earth.

Tom Paris' haunted expression was noticed by very few.

The Crew appeared to be in one mind, however, concerning the demise
of the relationship between Tuvok and Harry Kim.  The majority of the
crew had been shocked and incredulous when it had become known that
Harry Kim and Tuvok were lovers, but over a relatively short amount
of time their relationship had become an accepted fact.  Harry was a
popular crew member, and it was clear to the crew that Tuvok had hurt
him.  The crew's hostility towards the Vulcan had not abated since
Captain  Janeway's return - in fact, many of the crew were still
actively antagonistic when in his presence.

Sighing very lightly, Tuvok finally turned away from the screen.
Harry had ignored several requests to discuss the matter and refused
to meet privately with Tuvok outside of work hours.  There was only
one action Tuvok could take.  It would be distasteful in the extreme,
but there appeared to be little  alternative.

---

The dream was always the same.  It was bad enough going through it
for real, but to have to relive the scene over and over again was
torture.  Harry had taken dream suppressers for a while, but the
feeling of dazed exhaustion the following day was worse than the
dream.  Asleep in his quarters, Harry began to mutter agitatedly as
the dream took hold once again. . . .


Harry stared in anguish at his lover, his mind desperately searching
for a way -any way - to get through to Tuvok.  Verbal entreaties were
having no effect, and in his present state, it was difficult to
concentrate enough to use his mental link with the Vulcan to say what
he wanted so desperately to say.  There was  a simpler way to do this.
Taking a breath, he allowed his mind to bring forth images of the two
of them together, the erotic imagery that was always so easy to
recall, and always had such an instant effect on Tuvok.  Stepping
closer to the older man, Harry touched Tuvok's chest lightly, his
voice soft and pleading,  "Tuvok. . . " as his mind struggled to break
through the barrier.

The response hurt like the flick of a knife, a slice of pain straight
across Harry's brain.  Tuvok turned away from him, but not before the
mental image of the S'civat was imprinted on Harry's mind.  The
S'civat was where unbonded Vulcan males went to relieve the symptoms
of the Pon Farr - a necessary and logical addition to Vulcan society.
Receiving the image of it through their link, Harry was left in no
doubt as to the meaning behind it.

Tuvok had just called him a whore.

Blinded with tears, Harry could do nothing but stumble from Tuvok's
quarters, determined not to break down in front of him.  Such a
display of human emotion would only increase the Vulcan's disgust of
him, and Harry knew there was no hope of him getting himself together
enough to try and explain to Tuvok that he'd only used the erotic
imagery as a method of getting his lover's attention, and not as a
ploy to distract him


Gasping, Harry sat up in bed suddenly, the dream awakening him, as it
always did - in tears.  The dream was always the same, in minute
detail.  The pain was still there, but each time Harry woke up
shuddering, there was a little more anger.

Tuvok hadn't wasted any time in severing his relationship with Harry
after it was confirmed that the Captain and Chakotay would have to be
abandoned on New Earth.  It was a blow Harry had been completely
unprepared for.  He had just left Tom in his  quarters, pale and
silent - and was himself wondering how the  crew would manage without
Captain Janeway's steady leadership.  He had stood, dazed, through
Tuvok's dry recitation of the reasons he felt the relationship should
end, only  beginning to comprehend Tuvok's purpose when he realised
his lover was about to dismiss him from his life.  Trying to reach him
mentally had resulted in the scene that plagued his nightmares since
- it was hours later before Harry had identified the complete silence
in his head.  Tuvok had severed the mental communication between them
completely.

The pain of losing Tuvok showed only in Harry's eyes.  The deep, once
fathomless pools of brown reflected the pain and betrayal he'd felt
when Tuvok had ripped their fragile bond  apart.  The pain went deep,
but the anger had taken longer to grow.

When the Captain and Chakotay had beamed back onboard, had greeted
the crew and met with Tuvok and all section heads, Tuvok had sent
Harry a message requesting his presence in the Vulcan's quarters.
Harry had gone - more out of a cold, angry curiosity than anything.
It was here that Tuvok had ripped his heart out unemotionally just
weeks before.  Apparently, he was not done tormenting his young
lover.

Harry had remained standing at attention in Tuvok's quarters,
listening indifferently as his lover spoke.  His face had maintained
a calm, blank facade as Tuvok had listed the conditions under which
he would consider resuming their relationship.  The anger that had
been building in Harry was not apparent in his expression or stance,
but it was clear that Tuvok could feel it and was unsure as to it's
origins.  A strong desire to hit the Vulcan was quelled with
difficulty as Harry gave his reply  after Tuvok finished speaking.

"No."  With that single word, Harry turned and left the Vulcan's
quarters.

To give him his due, Tuvok did not let the matter rest there.  He
sent Harry a number of messages requesting that they discuss the
matter further, but these were ignored.  Harry loved Tuvok but was
determined not to be picked up and discarded at the Vulcan's whim.
If Tuvok really wanted him back, he had yet to show any sign of it.
Instead, Harry got the feeling that the resumption of their
relationship would be nothing more than a practical move on the
Vulcan's part - not motivated by any  emotion other than logic.

Outwardly, the Vulcan gave no indication of his own feelings of
frustration and abandonment.  His reasons for discontinuing the
relationship were logical and sound, and yet it appeared that Harry
did not consider logic to be an adequate reason for their break-up.
Tuvok was at a loss to know how to deal with this new cold and
distant version of his young and exciting lover.

There was no question of giving up.  Tuvok was in love, and knew that
Harry loved him equally as much. There was only one thing to do.  A
logical solution to the problem would require the maximum amount of
information available.  He would ask the Captain for advice.

---

"Tuvok, I am your commanding officer and I am your friend.  Do not try
and tell me Vulcans have no feelings.  I've been sitting here,
listening to you babbling about duty and logic and I'm tired of it!
If you want my help to get Harry back, you had better convince me
that it would be good for Harry, as well as for you."

Both of Tuvok's eyebrows were raised now - in all the years he had
known the Captain she had never spoken to him in quite this direct a
fashion.

The Captain was not finished yet.  "I want you tell me something.
Forget about being a Vulcan for five minutes and just tell me,
truthfully, how you *feel* about Harry."

Her direct gaze bore into his, and Tuvok abandoned his automatic
attempt to prevaricate in a typically Vulcan fashion.  Decades of
training rose in revolt at this blatant emotionalism, but he
respected the Captain too much to give anything less.

"Harry is . . . " Tuvok's eyes closed briefly as he sighed, trying to
verbalise something so alien to Federation standard as a mind link.
". . . Unique."

Unable to look the Captain in the eye whilst unbaring his soul in
this fashion, he rose to his feet to pace the room.  "His mind is -
fresh.  He has so many qualities I admire - many of them  unusual for
a human of his age."

For not the first time in his life, but for the first time in a very
*very* long time, Tuvok was silently grateful that his dark skin did
not show the flush of embarrassment that decades of training could
not quell.

"I . . . ."  Swallowing, he tried again.  "I . . . .. enjoy  his
company."

"Do you love him?"

"We are linked."  The simple statement came more naturally, and
without any shade of the previous discomfort.  Tuvok met the
Captain's gaze squarely as he said this, and the answer to that
question was clear to them both.

"Captain -"  This was harder, but Harry was worth it.  "Please, tell
me what to do."

Kathryn Janeway took a deep breath as she pondered her answer.  The
stoic Vulcan wasn't going to like this one bit, she thought gleefully
- but it wouldn't do him any harm.  And Harry wasn't going to take him
back otherwise.

"Seduce him."

Tuvok's eyebrows shot up once more, as astonishment warred with
indignation.  "Captain, using sexual advances to trick an
inexperienced young -"

The Captain interrupted.  "Tuvok, you misunderstood me.  Seduction
isn't just about sex.  Harry Kim is in love with you and you treated
him very badly.  Now you just need to remind him why he fell in love
with you in the first place.  It's called romance, Tuvok.  You're
going to have to make a major effort, here."

"Romance."  Tuvok's face had returned to it's usual Vulcan
impassivity but he was inwardly daunted.  What did a 98 year old
Vulcan know about romance?

For once, the Captain was able to read her Security officer easily.
Chuckling, she said, "I'm sure if you ask nicely, Tuvok, I might have
a few tips for you.  I would suggest having a chat with Tom Paris,
too - he's certainly an expert in the field!"

Tuvok's mask slipped for a fraction of a second when he contemplated
asking Tom Paris for tips on seduction.  Really - he was going to
have to spend a lot more time in meditation in the future.  His
controls had been slipping a lot recently.  Sighing lightly, he took
a seat once again on the couch, and concentrated so as to recall
every word the Captain said.

"And you would suggest. . . ?"

---
Two days later. . .
---

"So let me get this straight, Tuvok.  Your big seduction scene with
Harry didn't work and you can't figure out why?"  At any other time
this conversation would have been amusing, but there was something
about Harry and Tuvok's relationship that hit a little close to home
for Tom Paris.

"That is correct."  This was humiliating.  It was requiring all of
Tuvok's control to maintain an indifferent facade throughout this
embarrassing interview but he had exhausted every other possible
avenue and Harry was still holding him at an arm's length.  To go
this far and the give up was not an option.

"Well, let's see.  You scheduled time on your personal roster and
sent a message to Harry's computer which also told him that you would
only have two hours to spare before you had to get back on the
bridge."

"Ensign Michaels has limited experience on the bridge.  She required
supervision."

"Ah, huh.  So what did you have for dinner?"

Tuvok recited the menu, all of the dishes Harry's favourite
vegetarian meals.  He added the interesting fact that he had presented
Harry with a book of Vulcan poetry as per Captain Janeway's advice.

"What were you wearing?"

Tuvok was completely taken aback at the question, but answered
truthfully.  "My uniform.  I was due back on the bridge in less than
two hours."

"Did you dim the lighting, put music on?"

Tuvok listed the Vulcan sonnets that he had programmed, and pointed
out that while Captain Janeway had also suggested dimming the lights,
he had not done so as there would have been insufficient illumination
for the meal.

What he did not mention, and would not mention to Tom Paris or anyone
else, was the way the evening had ended.  Harry had  been unresponsive
from the beginning.  The book of Vulcan poetry had been received with
a tight lipped thanks, and cool eyes had swept over the room without
comment.

It was clear that Harry was not only indifferent to the effort  Tuvok
had put in, but was growing increasingly fed up as the night had
progressed.  Tuvok had run through every logical argument he could
think of to convince Harry to resume their relationship, but these
had fallen on deaf ears.  In a final attempt to pierce the
unresponsive shielding around his young lover, he had resorted to
mental communication via a series of mildly erotic imagery.  The
response was immediate, but not the type he had wanted.  Harry was
livid, demanding to know why it was all right for Tuvok to use this
method of reaching his lover, when - at the time Harry himself had
tried the same thing - he had been branded a whore by Tuvok himself.

Tuvok was genuinely contrite, annoyed with himself at doing such an
insensitive thing, but Harry was too furious to listen to his
apologies.  He had stormed out of Tuvok's quarters and did not
respond to any of the messages Tuvok had left on his computer.

Tuvok was not optimistic that Tom Paris would have any useful advice.
But he had no other options at this stage.

"Tuvok, it's pretty clear to me why this didn't work."  An
explanation would certainly be educational, if not actually helpful.

"First of all, you started off all wrong. . . .." as Tom began to list
the many ways Tuvok had messed up, Tuvok grew interested despite
himself.  How strange that Tom Paris of all people could be so
logical!  His explanations made sense, and his advice was far more
precise than any of the general information on romance and seduction
that Tuvok had gleaned throughout his years of dealing with the Human
race.

It was fascinating to finally get an insight into how the human mind
truly worked.  Being linked with Harry for a longer period of time
would have expanded Tuvok's knowledge considerably, but they hadn't
been together long enough, and the subject had truly never arisen.  A
glimmer of shame flickered at the back of Tuvok's mind, as Tom gave
what Tuvok felt to be a very accurate assessment of how Harry would
have viewed his  pitiable attempts to resume the relationship.  He
truly *had* acted in an arrogant fashion, and it was not surprising,
therefore, that Harry was not impressed.

Tuvok was nothing if not determined, however.  He put aside his
chagrin at the thought of a Vulcan having this kind of conversation
with a human, and began to ask questions.

---

Nearing his quarters at the end of his shift Ensign Harry Kim was
surprised to see an old fashioned paper envelope sitting on  the floor
outside his quarters, propped up against the door.  On the front of
the envelope in a flowing script was his name.

Opening it as he entered his quarters, Harry read:

Tonight.  1900 hours - my quarters.

Please.

Tuvok.

Please?  This was *not* a Tuvok word!  Sighing, Harry looked at the
note again.  Did he want to go through another half-hearted attempt
by Tuvok to get him to resume their relationship?  Didn't Tuvok
realise by now that the very lack of effort was what made Harry so
upset?  It was as if he was important enough for Tuvok to go to a
little trouble, but not important enough for him to make any *real*
effort.  He read the note one more time.

'Please'.

// This is your last chance, Tuvok. //  Harry headed for the shower.

At almost exactly on 1900 hours that evening, Harry arrived at
Tuvok's quarters.  He was wearing a pair of jeans, and a white shirt
with the sleeves rolled up.  A pair of casual boots  completed the
rather casual ensemble.  The entire outfit was something he would
wear on a double date with Tom in the old days.  He keyed the entry
pad, and the doors opened.

The lights were very dim, but there was ample illumination from the
hundred or so candles around the room.  In the centre was the table
they had eaten at the other night, but this time it looked very
different.  A snowy white tablecloth provided the backdrop for the
gorgeous arrangement of flowers that sat in the middle of the table.
China crockery, crystal glassware and silver cutlery were laid out
beautifully, and in the background a string quartet could be heard
playing some of Harry's favourite arrangements.

A slow smile began to show on the young Ensign's face, as he took in
the glory of the room, but his mouth dropped open as his eyes came to
rest on Tuvok.

Leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed in front of him, and
one leg bent so that the foot rested on the wall behind him, Tuvok's
entire posture screamed 'sex'.

He was wearing a pair of faded denim blue jeans, so tight it was
clear that there was nothing but skin under them.  Tuvok was also
wearing a white shirt, but the similarity to Harry's outfit  ended
there.  His was made of a sheer cheesecloth material, almost
completely see through.  It was tucked in to his jeans, but none of
the buttons were done up, leaving an expanse of smooth, black chest
showing clearly.  He was barefoot.

Harry swallowed, trying hard to think of a coherent sentence when all
the blood had rushed from his head straight to his cock, which was
already showing its appreciation of the vision  standing on the other
side of the room.

"Oh, God."

Leaving the wall, Tuvok crossed the room to where Harry stood and
gently took him by the arm, leading him to a chair at the table and
smoothly seating him.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off Tuvok's ass in those tight jeans as
he stood at the replicator and ordered their dinner.  Licking his
suddenly dry lips, he watched as the muscles in Tuvok's back rippled
as he effortlessly picked up the tray laden with dishes and returned
to the table with it.

Harry sat silent as Tuvok served him, a small part of his brain
noting that the dishes were all his favorites.  *All* his favorites.
Taking his eyes from Tuvok for a moment Harry looked down at his
plate, somehow not surprised to see the veal cutlets that were neatly
displayed next to the Eltarian noodle-pasta.  Tuvok was only eating
the pasta, naturally.

Harry took a deep breath, trying but failing completely to stop the
grin that appeared on his face.

"Okay - who are you and what have you done with Tuvok?"

Tuvok continued to eat, but his eyes met Harry's and they were filled
with amusement.  Harry could feel Tuvok's mind - ever so gently!
asking permission.  Opening up his own mind, the soft passage of
Tuvok's thoughts entered, and were absorbed.  Discovering, all of a
sudden, just how very nervous his stoic Vulcan was, very nearly
deprived Harry of breath.

"Your meal is getting cold, Harry."  Tuvok's mild reminder bought
Harry back to the present.  But before picking up his knife and fork,
Harry leaned over the table and kissed Tuvok on the mouth.

"Thank you, Tuvok."

They ate in silence, but words were unnecessary with the link opening
up again between them.  Most of the meal was spent sending the warm
thoughts back and forwards through the link, and the humor of the
situation was shared and enjoyed by both.

By the end of the meal Harry felt like he'd been hard for about a
week.  Tuvok had kept the mental communication to basics, steering
well clear of any sexual interchange.  It hadn't made a difference to
Harry, however.  Just watching Tuvok in that outfit was enough to
drive a man to drink, and it had been so long. . . .

But there were still things to sort out.  As Tuvok cleared the dishes
from the table, Harry made a concerted effort *not* to  leer at his
ass.  His cock was throbbing almost painfully against his jeans, but
he would not go to bed with Tuvok until they had  sorted things out.
Tuvok took his seat again, and turned to face  Harry.  He looked Harry
straight in the eye and said, "Harry, I  . . . . . . " here Tuvok
paused for a moment, clearly uncomfortable with this verbalisation of
such an intimate sentiment as this. . . " I did not mean to hurt you.
I did not *want* to hurt you.  Please - *please* forgive me."

Harry looked around the room, the candles, the music, the table -
getting an idea of how far Tuvok had gone in an effort to please him.
Tuvok hadn't a clue the other night - so Harry's poised Vulcan had
clearly asked for advice.  And gotten quite a lot of it, from the
looks of things.  He had shown Harry just how far he was willing to
go to keep him, and Harry could at least meet him halfway.

He touched two fingers to Tuvok's mouth before Tuvok could say
anymore, and then lifted Tuvok's hand to his face, silently giving
permission for them to continue the conversation  mentally.

It was an education for them both - but a necessary one.  Harry began
to understand how little Tuvok had wanted the Captaincy, and how
unprepared he had felt for the task.  The overwhelming responsibility
that had been thrust upon him had made him feel that he should be
sacrificing any personal pleasures, in much the same way as Captain
Janeway made similar sacrifices for the ship.

And Tuvok began to understand how much he had hurt Harry by simply
'turning off' the mental communication.  He had already known how
important the Captain was to Harry, and how much he cared about Tom
and felt Tom's pain at the loss of Chakotay in this way - but he
hadn't realised how lost Harry had felt when Tuvok's presence was no
longer a part of his life.

Harry communicated the anger he had felt at Tuvok for trying to
justify their relationship with logic.  Tuvok finally grasped the fact
that Harry was not a fan of Vulcan music, or Vulcan poetry, and felt
irritated that Tuvok would use the same methods on *him* that he had
probably used on his Vulcan wife!

And Harry was overcome with love for this man when he heard the
account of Tuvok's conversation with Tom Paris.  Knowing how hard
that must have been for him, Harry could only kiss him gently as a
silent thank-you.

It was impossible to stop at one kiss, though - Tuvok was a master at
this and Harry hadn't been kissed in a very long time.  Leaning over
the table became uncomfortable, so when Tuvok  stood up, Harry rose
also, ready to take the conversation into the bedroom.  He was
surprised when Tuvok lead him to the couch, and lay down beside him
on it.

Not that he was complaining, though, what with the hot length of
Tuvok pressed along the side of his body, the long-fingered hand
casually unbuttoning his shirt and exploring the chest  underneath as
they kissed.  As his erection grew impossibly  harder, though, he sent
a mental query to his lover, enjoying the fact that his tongue didn't
have to leave Tuvok's mouth in order to converse with him. //Tuvok?//

The mental image his lover sent back was a little vague and it
required some concentration to work out exactly what he was saying.
The only problem was that Tuvok's hand had moved down to stroke his
cock through his jeans and every thought process he had was currently
trying to work out how to get that hand inside his pants.  He broke
off the kiss to get some air into his starved lungs and a hand
stilled Tuvok's on his cock as he tried desperately to re-route some
blood back into his brain.

A grin touched his mouth and he chuckled weakly as the mental image
became clear.  Tom had told Tuvok of the benefits to be derived from
a 'make-out' session and Tuvok was investigating this phenomenon with
all the zeal of a Vulcan scientist.

Harry grinned at the thought of Tuvok's dedication to scientific
curiosity. "I love you, Tuvok."

Tuvok's mouth repossessed his, and Harry's mind signaled that it had
had enough of all this mental effort by returning to the problem at
hand, and refusing to consider any further coherent thoughts.

Luckily Tuvok had enough intelligence left to handle the problem of
the jeans, and his hand undid the clasps and slid  down, underneath
the jeans and the shorts to grasp Harry's cock firmly as his mouth
continued its invasion.  Harry was as hard as it was possible to be
and the firm strokes of the hand on  his cock and the tongue in his
mouth were enough to finish him.  He came hard, his body arching off
the couch, his mouth leaving Tuvok's to scream his name, as Tuvok
continued to milk his cock as it shot a stream of fluid over his
stomach.

Panting for a few moments, Harry kissed Tuvok lightly, and then
struggled to get up off the couch.  "C'mon, Tuvok."  His mind was
focused only on getting his man to the bed and inside him as quickly
as possible, and he would have broken the world record for stripping,
had there been such a thing, as he ripped  off his clothes.  Tuvok's
disrobing was not quite as frenzied, although he was naked just as
quickly, possibly due to the fact that he had less to do.

Then Tuvok stood nude, his erection pointing up towards Harry
invitingly.  Not one to ignore an opportunity, Harry dropped to his
knees in front of Tuvok and took the hard shaft into one hand as his
mouth closed over the top.  Sucking and stroking the flesh, Harry's
spare hand curled around Tuvok's ass, holding him in place.  Tuvok's
face was calm, but his breathing was faster, and his eyes were closed
as Harry felt him using his Vulcan controls to stop himself thrusting
into the wet warmth that surrounded his cock.

After a few minutes of bliss, Tuvok's hand in Harry's hair signaled
the nearness of his own climax.  Harry stood, and went to the drawers
beside the bed, looking for the tube of lubricant he knew would be
there.  Taking it out, he handed it to Tuvok, and then lay face down
on the bed, turning to face his lover.  Tuvok was preparing himself
with the lubricant and the sight of that was something else again.
Harry could feel himself stirring and rose to his knees on the bed in
order to give his burgeoning  erection some room, and to ease the way
for Tuvok.  The Vulcan knelt on the bed behind him, and Harry braced
himself for the fingers that would stretch him for Tuvok's entry.

Moaning with pleasure when the fingers entered his body, it was some
moments before the buzzing at the entrance to Tuvok's quarters
penetrated the pleasant fog of pleasure that enveloped Harry's brain.
Tuvok was quicker to react, withdrawing both from Harry's body and
from the bed with a very un-Vulcanlike haste before grabbing his
discarded jeans and pulling them on.  Groaning with disappointment,
Harry rolled over onto his back, eyes meeting Tuvok's as he ran a
hand down his chest and  over his stomach to stroke the hard cock that
jutted out from between his legs.

"I don't care who it is, Tuvok - just get rid of them!"

Tuvok's gaze was just as hot as he struggled visibly to get his  body
under control.  Closing his eyes was the only way to accomplish this,
as the very sight of Harry stroking himself was not assisting with
his Vulcan controls.  Leaving the bedroom, Tuvok paused for a moment
in the main room, searching for his  shirt - only to discover some
very obvious stains on it from their session on the couch.  Whoever
was at the door had buzzed three times now, and there was no
opportunity to replicate anything else to wear, so Tuvok sighed
inwardly and went to open the door.

Luckily it was neither of his two Commanding officers, but a very
upset Tom Paris.  Red eyes and a pale face gave evidence of some
strong emotion, but Tuvok was more fascinated by the dull red flush
that crept up from the pilot's throat to cover his face a rather
alarming shade.  Belatedly recalling his state of undress, Tuvok
motioned for the pilot to enter his quarters before any more crew
members caught a glimpse of their Chief of Security wearing nothing
but a pair of *very* tight faded jeans and looking like he'd just
climbed out of Harry Kim's bed.

Tom flushed an even brighter shade of red, and took a step backwards
into the corridor.

"Ah . . .  I'm sorry Tuvok, I was looking for Harry . . . . I'll talk
to  him later. . . " Tom was babbling in embarrassment as Tuvok's
expression became even more forbidding.  Wanting desperately to be
anywhere else but standing in front of the pissed off Vulcan - Tom
kept backpedalling, only to give a yelp as Tuvok grabbed his arm and
forcibly yanked the pilot into his quarters.

"Please sit down, Mr Paris."  Tuvok strode into the bedroom, leaving
Tom standing in the main room.   There was the sound of voices from
the bedroom, and some moments later, Harry appeared dressed in jeans
and an unbuttoned shirt, followed by  his lover.  Tom looked at Harry
apologetically, and got a  reassuring grin in return.  The Ensign
gestured at Tom to sit down in the armchair, and took a seat himself
on the couch.

"What's up, Tom?"  The Pilot found it hard to concentrate on Harry's
gentle query, when Tuvok was programming a new shirt from the
replicator behind him. Tom had genuinely never considered Tuvok to be
a sexual being, but seeing him in these circumstances was
disconcerting, to say the least.  He took a breath, and then paused
before speaking as Tuvok, pulling on his shirt, came back into his
view.  Tuvok paused in front of the main door and his eyes met
Harry's in silent communication.  Tom could almost see the words
flowing between them mentally, and then Tuvok left his quarters
silently.

When his lover had left, Harry settled himself comfortably on the
couch as Tom began to speak.  There would be time to make it up to
Tuvok later, but for now, the Vulcan understood that Tom needed his
best friend.  Their reunion hadn't been quite as thorough as Harry
would have liked, but the resumption of their link was enough to
reassure Harry that they would have plenty of time to make up
completely in the future.

Plenty of time.

---

continued in the fourth story in the Of Love and Logic series 'Of Love & Logic'