The PKSP Archive - resurgence by envoy (envoy@mjc1.demon.co.uk) --- Disclaimer: Uh, yeah. Note: This is, I suspect, my 'never say never again'. Enjoy. --- Captain Janeway enters the turbolift with a tight smile. She enunciates her destination to the computer. The turbolift resumes. She turns with a mischievous grin and moves slowly to me. I let her come. She places her hands on my waist and arches upward so that lip meets lip; I curve my hands over her behind and dip down so that kiss may meet kiss. We break apart, but remain as close. I sigh; she smiles; we laugh. "This is ridiculous- anyone could catch us," She tilts her head and speaks lowly: "I thought you liked the thrill of that possibility. Besides," her hands slide to rest on my ass and her eyes stare, mesmerised, at my lips. I lean closer. "Besides," she repeats. closer "we would have enough" closer "time to" closer "break apart if-" really? Pulling her sharply against me, I force her to a silence she is complicit in as the soft rounds of her nails bite through my uniform to tease the flesh beneath. A COMM badge beeps to life. "Captain,". Chakotay. Damn. "Yes, Chakotay," she answers without moving from me, without prising her eyes from mine. "Captain, we have a situation which requires your attention in Shuttle Bay one," "On my way," she assures him and taps the line out. She smiles coyly and wriggles herself against me,knowing fine well what it does, before pulling free. "Well, I have to go, what do you say we continue this later?" she teases. Continue what?" I tease back. "This,". She pulls me into another promising kiss. "My quarters. Nineteen hundred hours. And remember to forget your COMM badge," The doors part for her and she walks out. --- I wait in dark confused dark. She should have been here an hour ago, yet No waiting message for me either as to where she was,what she was doing, what she would do to me. Nothing Nothing Nothing I wait in solitary dark until I slip into soft dark. --- All is illuminated by harsh light sudden and unexpected. Everything falls to it. She calls to me, then finds me and whispers: "I knew you would be here,". She is burdened and distracted- I can tell by the tense of her mouth and the set of her shoulders. I rise to hold her, to caress her face, but she avoids this. "Tom," the word is a command bark and shudders through me. it jars her too, for she tries to soften it with a smile, tries to gentle it by resuming contact, by folding her hand over mine "Tom," she utters lowly, failing to belie the tense and steel of her stance. "I have some g...," ragged breath "I have some good news," smiles sweetly; smiles falsely. "Yes,". "Yes,". Her eyes bore blankly through mine as she speaks: "Harry is not dead,". My My hand eyes falls flee from hers hers from this Falling : Fallen And Risen Again "I see,". She turns her back to me "Yes,". "I I wondered what was" keeping you holding you up taking so long keeping you "wrong,". "Now you know,". Now I know. "Tom, I think he would like to see you, Tom,". * * * And how? how? I need I have to I want to know Things happen and you deal with that move on & away from that. You do not return to it. He is dead was is I don't I cried for him; cried for what could have been. Tore him from me. I stripped every memory to give him perfection of the dead. I cried for him. Cried for both of them. I have cried for him. Should not have to return. * * * "Harry,". Back is to me. No similaritiy to Harry. Tenses, as though recognises my voice, and turns with eager face; face lit by bright eyes and hope and deviousness. Scarred face, with pulled plastic skinstretching from right cheek to wave over neck and beyond. Rushes to me and folds me in embrace not returned. I wait for him to pull away. Takes his time. "Tom?" begs, eyes desperately searching, desperately pleading with, mine. I ignore him, preferring to concentrate on the scar; a burn, obviously, ragged and undulating layer upon layer of skin trying to heal and protect. Trying to rise again. And failing. Follows my thoughts and touches it. "It reminds me," explains. Of what? I make the mistake of meeting eyes. His eyes. No similarity. I curl my lips to a sneer: no. "Tom," pleads "Don't you have anything to say?" "Tom," pleads with bridging hand "It's me- Harry,". I snap away from it. "Harry is dead,". "Tom," advances on me "It is me. Please believe that,". I laugh at him. "I can believe that. But believing doesn't make something true,". Stops. "No. But,". I advance on him: "But?" "Only someone who is Harry can know that," pause. My heart trembles with foreboding His eyes with memories floating at me. No. "That?" I demand harshly. Calmly tilts head to meet my gaze "That on the day of the accident I was supposed to give you an answer to a question,". Time stills and I live in my mind "What question?" "Of whether you and I could be together,". No. Yes. * * * I sit on the black floor blank floor marked floor with my back to the wall back against the wall back at the wall. Back here again. The privacy locks are on, but no hologram plays, no hologram lures me from this world. No hologram could. No one could. And so it is him. Who else would know of that? Of one of the few times I was honest enough to admit how I felt and what I wanted. I was honest. And he ran from me. He I told him it was alright- it was alright if he did not feel that same though it was not. And then he promised to consider it. And then he died. When it happened I ran to be there to be with him. There was nothing to be with. smell of broken flesh and two perished bodies sliding He died. I touched that blood. wished it was me not her. And I mourned his passing, I mourned the extinction of possibility. And turned my back to it closed my eyes to it shut my ears to it. Still it remained. Then she came and I let go. gone. And now he turns to me. Tears later he comes to me and reminds me of something long abandoned. of something long kept close in comfort. And who would not want such? And who could not want such? Me. --- The End