by Choirboy
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Disclaimer: Paramount owns them, I'm just playing with them, etc…

Feedback please. ©January 2003

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Harry backed up against the wall as Tom moved in for the kill. Those piercing blue eyes held him fast, lancing into his soul like twin Kazon phaser bolts. Tom's lips moved in closer, as Harry felt his friend's hands come up and grip his shoulders, prising him off the wall and into Tom's embrace. One finger came up and gently prised Harry's yielding lips apart, allowing Tom's probing tongue to slip in between Harry's teeth and touch his own. Harry closed his eyes and moaned in ecstasy – how could anyone have ever told him this was wrong?

Harry stiffened, realizing something had changed. Opening his eyes, he was stunned to see himself kissing Tom passionately, his hands running through Tom's blond hair, moving down to grab his firm ass and press closer into Tom's crotch.

"Oh, Mr Kim," came a sardonic voice that Harry recognised all too well. "Oh what tangled webs we weave…" Harry spun round to find himself looking into Q's laughing face.

"You!" he gasped. "What have you done?"

Q shrugged and sat down in one of Tom's easy chairs. "I've just taken a moment of your time. Well, more than a moment, actually, I've taken you out of time."

Harry's brain reeled, as he watched the two figures slowly come to a halt and then freeze, locked in an embrace that could last forever. "Out of time? Why?"

Q sat forward and gestured to the chair opposite him. Harry shrugged and sat down. "Because, Mr Kim, I want you to think about the ramifications of what you're about to do. Your reaction to Tom's tonsil tickling tongue will have far reaching consequences for this crew and dear Captain Kathie – I want you to consider your response carefully."

Harry was confused. "My response? What do you mean? How does my response to Tom involve anybody else on Voyager?"

Q smiled indulgently. "That's the million credit question, isn't it? Let's take a look, shall we?"

---

Harry found himself at his Ops station. All around him, the sirens were screaming. The bridge rocked and swooped alarmingly as another salvo of plasma bolts struck Voyager's vitals. "Mr Kim," snapped Janeway. "Damage report!"

Harry looked down at his console. "Warp core off line, Captain. Life support down to 20% on decks 3, 4 and 5. Phasers at 35%, shields down to 24%. Photon torpedo launchers off line." He looked again. Something was…

"Tom! Get away from the conn! There's a power surge building! It's going to-"

The pilot's position exploded in a frenzy of sparks and shattered bulkhead. Tom took the explosion full in the face, as he was pushed backward and landed with a sickening thud on the deck. Harry ran from his position and cradled his lover in his arms, looking into those blue eyes, now framed by angry burnt skin. Tom gripped his hand tightly. He tried to speak, twice, but no words came out. He smiled briefly at Harry, then his eyes dimmed and he slumped sideways.

Harry knelt in shock, unable to speak. Tom was dead. He held his lover as Janeway shouted at him from her chair.

"Mr Kim! Harry! Take the conn from your console. "We're heading straight for the lead ship!"

Harry ignored her, his mind refusing to believe what his eyes told him.

"Harry! We're on a collision course! Evasive maneuvers! All hands, brace for…"

---

He gasped as the scene around him vanished, dragging him back to his quarters where Q sat watching. "Do you see now, Harry? Your tawdry little affair with the original 'good time of the Delta Quadrant' resulted in everyone on Voyager dying, because you abandoned your post to see your lover die. This is what I meant by your response."

Harry sat back in his chair, trying to slow his racing mind. "But that's only one scenario", he managed. "It might not turn out that way."

Q nodded sagely. "True," he said. "Let's try another one then, shall we?"

---

Harry pushed Tom away from him, feigning disgust. "Paris! What the hell are you doing?"

Tom backed away, red in the face and shocked. "Harry, I'm sorry…I thought you wanted…?"

"What? You? Never!" Harry was stunned at his own anger, but the sense of betrayal by his best friend had shocked him to the core. "My God, your ego just knows no bounds, does it? What am I now, the pity screw?"

Tom hung his head, unable to meet Harry's fury. "Sorry," he muttered under his breath, and left the room.


The following morning, Tom hesitantly approached the table where Harry sat pushing a bowl of something gelatinous around his plate. "Harry, I just…"

The anger flared anew. "Just what? Just thought that if you apologized, I'd have you as a friend? A lover? What next, Paris? Who do you go for after me? Hey, everyone," Harry stood and announced to the room. "Paris is after an easy lay. He's not fussy; he'll take anyone. Any offers?"

Tom stood, speechless, as the room erupted in laughter. He spun on his heel and fled the scene.


"Captain, I am detecting an unauthorized shuttle launch." Tuvok's announcement shattered the quiet of the afternoon watch.

"Override, Mr Tuvok."

The Vulcan shook his head in consternation. "Whoever it is has blocked my command codes, Captain."

Janeway stood angrily. "Tractor beam, Tuvok. Pull them in."

"The shuttle has cleared Voyager. Shields have been remodulated, I cannot get a lock. It is the Delta Flyer, Captain. One occupant…Life signs confirm Mr. Paris at the helm."

"Hail him," said Janeway, anxiety gnawing at her. Tom was not behaving normally, hadn't been since word of the scene in the messroom that morning had reached her. And, she reflected, you could cut the atmosphere on the bridge with a knife. She turned to look at Harry, but the ensign was bent down over his console, studiously ignoring her gaze.

"The Flyer is hailing us, Captain."

"On speakers, Tuvok."

"Captain, this is Tom. I'm sorry for what I'm about to do, but it was never going to work after yesterday. Tell Harry I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything."

Janeway spun round to Harry. "Mr Kim, beam him out of…"

Tuvok interrupted her. "Captain, warp core breach in progress. The Flyer has initiated a self destruct programme."

She hurried round to Tuvok's station. "Shields! Get our…"

The Flyer exploded in a brilliant, terrible blue flash. The shockwave emanating from the shattered warp core expanded outward, engulfing Voyager. Janeway had enough time to turn to Harry, and then all hell broke loose as the fireball smashed into the ship. The captain and her bridge crew were the first to die, as the forward section collapsed under the destructive power of the wave. As if rising to meet her maker in her own terrible duet, Voyager's warp core reached critical mass and joined the Flyer in a conflagration that was over as quickly as it had begun.

---

Harry sat on the chair, shaking in terror as the scene around him resolved into Tom's quarters.

"No," he shook his head. "There has to be another way."

Q smiled. "Well, it's not all bad news, Harry. Who knows, it might turn out like…"

---

The old man grunted slightly in relief as he sat down heavily on the park bench. Too old for the climb now, he thought ruefully, but the view was worth it. Through the gently falling misty rain, he looked out over the Golden Gate Bridge, down to the grounds of Starfleet Academy. So long ago, he thought, so long ago. In the distance, he could just make out (if he squinted) the outline of Voyager, on her memorial podium. Although the distance made it impossible, he knew the names inscribed on the plaque as if he had written them himself only yesterday. Captain Kathryn Janeway. Commander Chakotay. Lieutenant Commander Tuvok. Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres. Neelix. Seven of Nine. One hundred and forty eight names, remembered only in the hearts of their families and the official records. He turned slightly as another elderly figure approached, wheezing slightly after the steep climb. "Harry," he smiled.

His lifelong friend and partner settled down beside him. "It doesn't get any easier, does it?" Tom reflected. "We've been back fifty years. Fifty years to the day. And all it took was the destruction of our ship and the deaths of all our friends."

"Tom…" began Harry.

"No, hear me out," said Tom. "All those deaths. All that time. And all because of our selfishness. If we hadn't rushed off to investigate that wormhole..."

"Tom. Tom! Look at me!"

The older man reluctantly turned and met his lover's eyes. "It was no-one's fault, Tom. We just happened to be out on patrol when we discovered the wormhole. It could have just as easily been B'Elanna, or Tuvok, or anyone. There was no way to know it was that unstable. No way to know our impulse drive would have collapsed it on Voyager."

Tom bowed his head as if in memory. "I know, but still…the cost wasn't worth it. Harry, I have to tell you. I love you, but I would trade the last fifty years in a nanosecond to be back in the Delta Quadrant, back on Voyager." He slumped back against the bench and tilted his head back to the evening sky.

Harry sat, silent for a moment. "Tom," he began. "The night you kissed me for the first time, in your quarters, do you remember? It was the night before our patrol. The night before we discovered the wormhole. God, I was so shocked when you came onto me like that. I thought it was the end of the world, another man kissing me, wanting me. And then, finding out the next morning that the Captain had assigned us to long range patrols together. I didn't know what to say, what to do. When I saw the wormhole collapsing on the ship, crushing it like some tin can, I couldn't believe my eyes. All I could think of was the Vhnori and their faith, knowing that they would see their loved ones in 'the next emanation'. And do you know what?"

He turned to look at his lover, still gazing up at the sky. "Tom?" He nudged him gently. Tom didn't move. Harry realized that the ex-pilot's eyes were open, gazing up at his beloved stars. The rain ran freely down his face. Harry leaned over, a tear trickling down his own cheek, mingling with the drops that fell on Tom's face. Kissing him tenderly, Harry whispered gently "See you in the next emanation."

---

Q sat back in his chair, an amused smile on his face.

Harry sat thoughtfully, worrying at the problem like he would a difficult maths question.

"So, Harry. Pick a number. What's it gonna be? Tom dying a hero? Tom dying and killing everyone else? Tom dying an old man, but with you there with him?"

Harry looked at his tormentor. "Whichever one I choose, Tom dies," he stated.

Q nodded.

"Then there is no choice to make. I can't choose. I can't choose how to kill my friends. That's not my job."

Q shrugged and stood up. "Not choosing is a decision itself, Harry." He began to fade into nothing. "But remember your physics, Harry. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. A decision you make now isn't necessarily the one that plays out in the future."

Harry sat and puzzled that one for a moment. "Wait!" he cried. "If a decision I make now can be overridden later, what was the point of showing me all this now?"

Q shimmered back into existence, sighing. "You just don't get it, do you, Harry? This is the case in point. You are a lot more important to this crew of nobodies than you give yourself credit for. If I were to tell you that over the next few years you will die twice, travel to different dimensions, reach Earth twice, survive the Borg…well, the list goes on."

Harry shrugged, baffled. "What's your point, Q?"

Q shook his head in frustration. "You are the point, Harry! The Q have their eye on you. You're going to do things no human has ever experienced before, travel - quite literally – where no-one has gone before. You-and this crew- are going to suffer in ways you couldn't begin to imagine. It's going to change you. Change you in a way you hadn't bargained for. This," he gestured towards the two statues locked in their eternal embrace, "This is your payback. Enjoy it, Harry. Enjoy your life, enjoy your love. I'm not always going to be around to remind you of this. Take your happiness where you can, because you never know what's around the corner. To quote a certain female captain of my acquaintance, 'weird is part of the job'."

With that, he was gone, and Harry suddenly realized that the statue in front of him was moving. Actually, rubbing against him would be a better description. And that tongue was probing ever further…

Harry smiled inwardly and surrendered to his best friend. After all, he asked himself, what's in a kiss?

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End