by Elizabeth Dunn
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Disclaimer: Paramount may own the rest of the universe, including Tom, Harry, the good ship Voyager, the town of Fair Haven, some cosmic dust, Kings Dominion, and the kitchen sink, but they do not own the ideas that spring from my head. Although, if they want to work out a deal, I might listen.

Author's notes: This comes to you straight from my keyboard to your mailboxes. I try to find all of my errors, but some may slip through the cracks. I had intended this to be a fairly short response to the Spike's desire to have a story off of 'Fair Haven,' but, well, my mind went a bit farther. So I present to you this piece of angst with the best of intentions.

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Harry stood on the holodeck and surveyed his and Tom's alterations. He turned to Tom and said, "You know, I think this is a good compromise. Fog along the shore cliffs, but the town is untouched."

Tom stared out over the ocean, eyes thoughtful. "Yeah, I think you're right."

"Tom? Is there anything wrong?"

"Well, you know back in town, when the Doc called us sinners?"

"What of it? I think he's getting too involved in his pastor role."

Tom turned to look at Harry. "But did you think he. . . meant something else by that?"

Harry gazed at Tom for a second, then sank down to sit on the ground, instinctively knowing that whatever was on Tom's mind wasn't going to go away easily. "What do mean he meant something else?'

Tom sat as well, his eyes never leaving Harry's. "I mean his tone of voice, the look he gave us. I think. . . I think he might know."

"Know? About us?"

"Exactly!" Tom stood again and began pacing. "Har, we've been lucky we've been able to keep it a secret for this long. Eventually someone will find out. And I think the Doctor suspects, at the very least."

Harry couldn't stand to watch Tom pace anymore. He could almost feel the waves of frustration coming off Tom. He stood and walked into Tom's path, gripping his shoulders to keep him still. When he felt Tom's surrender, Harry grasped Tom's chin and turned his face so their eyes met. "So he suspects. You have to have known that our relationship wasn't going to stay our secret forever."

"I know, but--"

"You don't want to hurt B'Elanna."

"No, I don't. Can you blame me?" Tom tried to put some humor into their talk. "If she found out, she'd kill me!"

"Tom." The serious tone of Harry's voice drew Tom's attention back like nothing else could. "I understand your feelings. I don't want to hurt B'Elanna either. She's a good friend. But I don't want to hurt myself anymore either."

"Harry, what are you saying?" Tom tried to control the sudden rise of panic within him. Surely he couldn't be saying what he thought . . .

"Tom, there comes a point where you have to step back and look at something objectively. I love you, Tom. That will never change. But. . . I think in a way this relationship is hurting us more than anything else. I see it in your eyes--the fear of being discovered, the fear of hurting someone you care about, either B'Elanna or me. A choice has to be made, Tom. And if you can't make it, I will." Tom seemed like he was about to say something, so Harry placed a finger over his lips to silence whatever outburst was coming. "I'm not making you chose between us, Tom. I know you can't. But I don't like the shadows, anymore. If you're going to panic at every little comment, I have to wonder if I'm harming you." Harry removed his finger and gently kissed Tom's soft lips.

Tom made a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a sob. "If you hate shadows so much, then why the insistence on fog?"

Harry smiled sadly. Tom could see the unshed tears in those warm brown eyes. "Fog and Ireland are connected. You can't have one with out the other." Harry turned to leave the holodeck, but stopped to look back at Tom. "You're still my best friend," he called over the rising wind. "You might not be able to believe it now, but I'll be there when you can know that again." Harry paused, as if he was going to say something else, but bit his lip and fled the holodeck, planning to hole up somewhere and cry for his loss.

Tom watched him go, not noticing the tears dripping down his face. "Harry," he whispered hoarsely, then with a burst of anger picked up a rock and hurled it into the waves. "How could you leave me like this!" he shouted, but the ocean, if it heard, didn't bother to respond. Slowly, Tom sank to his knees as knowledge flooded over him. As much as he'd like to hate Harry for leaving him, he knew that he had been right. It really wasn't fair to Harry for Tom to hold him down and expect him to be happy. But still, Tom wished that it could've been different. More and more, he had felt that his feeling for B'Elanna had been dimming next to the radiant light that his love for Harry was. The only problem had been with him, sorting out what he wanted. . . the knowledge that, somewhere along the way, someone stood to get hurt. He looked down the coast and spotted a place where there seemed to be a firm dividing line between the bright sun and the dark fog. 'The choice is yours,' a voice within Tom whispered. 'Fog or sun. Dark or light. Happiness or complacency.'

Something in Tom reacted to that as nothing else had before. "Yes," he whispered. I know what I have to do now." He stood up and strode out of the holodeck with a sense of purpose; mind focused on setting his choice into motion.

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End