by Fred
---

Yo, everyone: Fredster here. If ya thought I'd forgot all about Tom and Harry, fear not! Just had to get over the Christmas festivities. (We have a tendency to go over the top sometimes at our house; you know, with the neighbor kids and all.) Anyhoo, I wrote this up and thought you might like it.

It's dedicated to Joanne Collins, who gave me the idea of the song lyrics. Babe, yer done good. And to my little Sophie Wophie snugglekins who has a nasty sick eye. Get better for Uncle Freddy pun'kin, kay? And to Paramount. It's theirs .. and this one's so clean they could even steal it like they do from the rest of the smutters.

---

"I do not want to wear white!"

"Harry. . . "

"White is for funerals, Tom," Harry Kim explained. "My mother would never forgive me if she found out I wore white to my own wedding."

Tom Paris rolled his eyes. "And my mother would kill me if she found out I got married in red."

"How about blue?"

"Sky blue, maybe. . . Computer, display male wedding outfits. Parameters, humanoid and sky blue."

As they flipped through the suggested styles, Tom sighed. "You know, it would be easier if we took Ensign Zetar's advice and had a nude wedding."

"They'd sure know who the best man was."

"Hilarious, Harry. Oh, I like this one."

"You like lace?"

"Lace is good."

"For women," Harry replied.

"Well, some men wear lace," Tom quickly countered.

"I'm not wearing lace. It itches -- and besides, I like velvet."

"Won't velvet be too hot for a beach?"

"It's a holosuite; we can adjust the temperature."

"Look, it's traditional in your culture to wear tuxedoes. We'll wear tuxedoes and I will choose the colors according to my culture," Harry suggested.

Tom considered a moment. "Fair enough, but I choose the style of the tuxedoes."

"Please, Tom. Not lounge lizards," Harry pleaded, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Some of Earth's best music came from Vegas. We could have a whole Vegas motif."

"I am not getting married Vegas style. This is my wedding and I want you to take it seriously. No Vegas!" Harry said, on the verge of tears.

"You know, it's my wedding too! When do I get to do something my way?"

"All right! You can choose the music for the reception, but I am not wearing a wide lapel loud tuxedo to my wedding!"

"Well, thanks so much for condescending to let me choose the reception music. So kind of you. I suppose you wanted to play that sleepy classical music by all those dead guys. The stuff you play on that stupid clarinet!"

"As a matter of fact, yes! I wanted to play Greensleeves at the wedding!" Harry shot back.

"Greensleeves!" Tom shook his head in amazement. "You want to play a song about some guy whining for his mistress at OUR WEDDING?"

"But it isn't -- "

"Why would you think -- what would give you the idea -- " and Tom collapsed onto the sofa in tears. "You -- you'd rather be with her, wouldn't you?"

"Um. . . her?"

"Libby," Tom sputtered through his sobs. "You don't really love me. Maybe we should call this whole thing -- "

"Honey, no!" Harry blurted out. Gathering Tom tenderly into his arms, he whispered into his hair, "I've been playing that song for so long I forgot what the lyrics were about. Hush, hush. . . "

"I'm just so worried that you don't love me and you're just doing this because you can't have her and I'm your second choice and I'm never good enough to -- "

"To what, Tom?"

Tom sniffled a bit and looked into Harry's deep, dark eyes. "Is that why you won't make love with me, Harry? You still want Libby?"

"No! Tom, no. . . " Harry blushed. "I thought. . . you knew."

"Knew what?" Tom's brows drew together in consternation.

Harry blushed near purple. "I'm a. . . virgin."

Tom frowned for a minute before smiling tenderly, the last of his tears drying up. "Oh. Well, I haven't really been with all that many men either. . . "

Harry blanched. "Not with men -- with. . . you know. . . " Tom appeared totally clueless and Harry sighed again. "Tom, I've never. . . done it. With anyone."

Tom blinked. "You're kidding."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Not all of us have worked their way through the Delta Quadrant by seducing every new alien we met."

"You're. . . " Tom gestured uncertainly, before finally unsticking his tongue. "Never? Not with Libby? Ever?!?"

Harry appeared contrite. "It's not a disease, Tom -- it's how I was raised."

Tom backtracked quickly. "No-no! I mean. . . I mean. . . Wow."

"Wow?" Harry raised a sardonic brow.

"It's just that I'm. . . " He grew serious suddenly and touched Harry's face tenderly. "I'm so flattered. You love me that much -- you waited so long. . . "

Harry kissed the palm of Tom's hand. "I love you," he stated simply, then grinned. "Even when you're being intolerable."

Tom kissed him and for a long moment they embraced, all harsh words forgotten. After a moment, Tom lifted his head and looked at his love solemnly. "You do realize that this means I was right."

"What?" Harry was thoroughly befuddled.

"White wedding."

---

Harry gave a sigh of satisfaction. Everything was finally settled: their outfits, the reception (including the music, which Harry eventually allowed Tom to choose), the honeymoon. They had even chosen their rings and composed their vows.

Now all they had to do was wait -- and worry.

Tom was a good worrier, Harry had to admit; every day he found something new to panic about. Yesterday it had been whether Neelix's wedding wreaths would clash with the decor. Today it was the honeymoon.

Harry had his own doubts, of course. Would Tom become frustrated by his inexperience? Would he eventually get tired of him? Would he go back to B'Elanna?

He looked up to see the object of his insecurities enter the Mess Hall.

"Hey, Starfleet," she called out as she approached his table. "What's on the menu?"

"I'm not sure," he replied. "I think it's some kind of pancake."

She grimaced as she sat down. "Maybe I'll pass. It doesn't look like it's sitting too well."

"B'Elanna, I'm getting married in three days and I don't even know -- oh God, Maquis," he groaned. "What the hell am I doing getting married when I've never even -- "

"Never even," she repeated in confusion. "You mean -- " and she broke out in an enormous grin. "So that's what Tom meant by a white wedding! You little scamp!"

"Hush, keep it down. Everyone's looking at us."

"I doubt anybody's terribly shocked, Harry," she giggled as she pinched him on the cheek. "But it's so cute. . . "

He frowned. "Cute it may be, but -- oh gods; I'm so afraid he's going to be absolutely disgusted that I don't know what I'm doing. What if he ditches me because -- "

"Now stop that right now!" she cut in. "Virginity is not a disease." She looked around, then leaned in and lowered her voice. "You want. . . some advice?"

Neelix appeared from behind them, "Advice? On what?"

"Go away, you little spotted. . . " B'Elanna began.

"On the ensign's virginity?" Neelix continued before she could stop him.

The holodoc appeared beside them. "What is the fascination with sexual status people have?"

Harry blushed and began to thump his forehead on the table. "Oh God. . . "

Chakotay came up to their now full table and clapped Harry on the shoulder bracingly. "Y'know, I was once a virgin myself."

"No kidding," B'Elanna said sarcastically before scowling at the entire group. "Now everyone who is not a part of this conversation go away!"

Chakotay chuckled and motioned for the doctor to follow him. The Doctor gave Harry a look that practically screamed, "Hmmm -- must find some tests to run on that fine young VIRGINAL specimen!" before moving away. Neelix, however, did NOT take the hint. "Seems to me, if you want advice on sex, the best person to ask is the Talaxian!" He plopped down. "Me."

"Oh yeah?" B'Elanna said nastily, "And what would you know about it?"

"Well. . . " Neelix began cheerfully before catching the insult and giving the half-Klingon a frown, "as a matter of fact, Talaxians are the most sexually advanced culture in the galaxy."

Harry, now being totally ignored, hid his face in his hands and waited for the ceiling to drop on his head.

Neelix shook his eyebrows flirtily and grinned. "Next to Ferengi, Talaxians are said to have the. . . uh. . . most flexible ahem," he paused, "well, you know."

"Know what?" B'Elanna countered.

Neelix hushed her. "Not in front of the virgin."

"THAT'S IT!" Harry thundered, rising. "I'm outta here!"

He pushed his way to the doors and barged into the hallway, his eyes fixed on the ground. A familiar voice called out, "Ensign Kim." He stopped and turned back to find Seven of Nine hurrying to reach him.

She ignored the other crew members passing by them in the busy corridor. "I have been informed by Commander Chakotay that you lack sexual experience. If you wish to rectify that deficiency, I would be pleased to copulate with you at a mutually acceptable time."

"NO!" he shouted, shocked. "Please, I -- Seven -- " He searched for the right words. "That's not necessary. Thank you, but I'd rather not."

"Why not?"

He felt his face turn beet red once again as he dragged her to a side corridor, ignoring the muffled snorts and giggles that followed them. "Seven, I want to be a virgin on my wedding night."

"Then why is your virginity considered a problem?" she asked.

"It isn't, not for me. It's them -- " and he gestured towards the Mess Hall doors. "They think it's a big joke."

She cocked her head in confusion. "But virginity is a natural state of existence. Why would the crew consider it humorous?"

"They just do, Seven. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to the Bridge."

As she watched him leave, she made a mental note to discuss this unusual development with the Captain. She did not want to become the target of such laughter herself.

---

Janeway rubbed the bridge of her nose painfully. "Seven, I. . . "

"But is it not so?" she asked quizzically, "Do humans not find virginity distasteful?"

"No." Janeway shook her head for the hundredth time. "What ever gave you that impression?"

"Ensign Kim has revealed that he has never copulated and several crew members seem to find this. . . " she paused, "I believe they would classify their emotional state as 'amused'."

Janeway squinted her eyes. "He what?!?"

"Ensign Kim is a virgin." Seven again cocked her head quizzically. "Does this reaction mean that you too find this state of being offensive?"

"No!" Janeway hurriedly injected.

"Are you then a virgin?" Janeway's mouth fell open for a moment as she debated how to answer this particular question. "Nooo. . . but that does not mean that being a virgin is a bad thing."

Seven absorbed this for a moment, "Then why are so many people surprised by the ensign's state of sexual inactivity?"

Not for the first time, Kathryn wished she could turn to someone else to answer her 'ward's' questions. "Because, given the age that we are living in, a certain amount of promiscuity is expected. For Ensign Kim to have been a virgin this late into life shows he. . . well, is an unusually moral person."

Janeway wished she could pull the words back in as soon as she'd said them as the cogs began to work behind Seven's crystalline eyes. "So, if one has copulated, then they are not moral?"

I have such a headache, Janeway thought, as once again she attempted to explain. "Seven, when I said that Harry was unusually moral, I meant that he had succeeded in following his own personal moral code. Many Humans believe it's right to wait to have sex until marriage. Since Harry shares this belief, he's done very well to resist temptation and remain a virgin. That doesn't mean that every other unmarried person on this ship is immoral." She gestured to the seat beside her on the sofa; as Seven sat, she continued. "You see, most of us also believe that each individual has to set his or her own moral values."

"And if one does not value virginity. . ." Seven ventured.

"Then being a virgin isn't a big deal." She took a sip of coffee. "Why does this interest you anyway?"

"I also have no sexual experience," Seven admitted. "I am however unclear as to how I should consider my state."

Janeway smiled and patted Seven's hand in a motherly fashion. "Well, you think about it, make your own decision. But remember, whatever you decide is your choice and nobody else's."

---

"What do you think it is?" Tom murmured, turning the item upside down and peering at it in confusion.

Harry read the card. "'In celebration of your bonding. May you have a joyous and peaceful life together.' From Vorik."

Tom smirked. "Maybe it's a bomb."

"Maybe," Harry interjected, "it's a firepot." And he took the gift away from Tom and set it right side up on the side table. "I like it."

"You like everything."

"If our friends care enough to spend their rations on a gift for us, we should be grateful."

"Yeah, right," Tom snorted. "You go thank Ayala."

"Hey! I've always wanted to read Gone with the Wind! And we are bothgoing to thank him."

"I am not -- "

//ber-bleep//

They turned towards the door. "Come in," Harry shouted. The doors slid open to reveal a most unexpected visitor.

"Captain!" Both men jumped up to welcome her as she stepped in carrying a nicely wrapped package.

"I'm sorry to interrupt. . . " she began only to be silenced by Tom's protests.

"No interruption," Tom grinned, looking at the package. "We're always looking for more booty to add to the collection."

Harry elbowed him with an exasperated noise as Kathryn handed them the package. "Ignore Tom, Captain," Harry said as he gave Tom a superior look. "We haven't gotten around to housebreaking him yet."

Tom smiled crookedly. "Very funny."

Kathryn smiled as she sat down across from her two officers, "Actually, it is rather funny," she smiled to herself. "Open it."

Smiling curiously they opened the package together, "Oh wow." Harry said as he lifted the contents from the box.

Tom looked at the small porcelain dog and smiled. "Housebroken -- I get it."

Kathryn gave a small nod toward her gift. "That was given to me by a friend right before I took command of Voyager. It was to remind me of home," she smiled brightly. "It's only fitting that you should receive it for the new home you've discovered together."

Even Tom appeared moved by the gesture. "Thank you, Kathryn."

She sighed, then rose to her feet. "Well, I'd best leave you two to your plans. . . "

"No wait!" Harry stood as well. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to join us for dinner?"

"No -- you two should be alone right now, but thank you for the invitation."

As they walked to the door, Janeway continued to speak. "Let me know if you need anything for the wedding." She turned and grinned widely. "And -- if you ever need any advice, my door is always open."

The doors shut as the two held hands tenderly. "That was really nice of her." Tom said softly.

"It was, wasn't it?" Harry replied, suddenly a bit uncomfortable.

"What's wrong, Har?"

Harry bit his lip. "When she said we could come to her for advice, well. . . "

"Yeah?" Tom enfolded him in a light embrace as he looked into his downcast features.

"I tried to. . . " he cleared his throat, "ask B'Elanna something the other day and some people overheard us." he scowled, "A LOT of people, actually."

"What was it?"

"I wanted to know how I should. . . . what I should. . . what you would like ..."

"You asked her for sex advice?"

Harry nodded. "In the Mess Hall. Oh God, Tom; everybody was laughing at me, or if they weren't laughing they were fighting about which one of them had the most experience. Then Seven offers to -- it's not funny, Tom."

"What'd she do, Har? Offer to bust your cherry for you? Oh God!" he howled, holding his stomach as he laughed himself hoarse. "Don't tell me she tried to seduce you in the Mess Hall!"

"In the corridor, actually," Harry growled. "And it is not funny!"

Tom struggled to contain himself. "Of course not, love. It's just that -- I'm sorry, Har. I really am, but I keep imagining her giving the Captain the third degree over this. You think that's why she came here tonight?"

"Probably. And if you're finished poking fun at me. . . ."

"Poking fun?" Tom echoed, suddenly contrite. "Hun, I wasn't laughing at you. I was -- laughing with you." He enveloped Harry in a bear hug. "I would never treat you like that." He pulled back and took Harry's face in his hands. "Why don't we eat in tonight. You're going to need your strength if you're going to survive B'Elanna's bachelor party."

"Don't remind me." He grasped Tom's wrists and squeezed. "And you're going to need your strength if you're going to endure Chakotay's."

Tom gently pulled his hands free and tipped Harry's chin up for a light kiss. Harry leaned into him and allowed his hands to caress his strong, hard chest under the slightly rough material of his uniform.

Moaning a bit, Tom pressed Harry into the cushions and began to nip at his lips playfully, worrying the full bottom lip between his sharp white teeth before growling, "So, I'm not housebroken, huh?"

Harry gasped as Tom nibbled down his jaw and then on the side of his exposed throat, "No. . . but who's complaining?" Tom chuckled darkly then pressed into Harry playfully, instantly regretting it as their hardening erections inadvertently bumped against one another causing them both to moan and gasp.

Harry bucked, thrusting his hips up against Tom's, instinctively craving more. His senses were overloading. Tom's smell, his taste, the feel of his hard, lean body through the uniform fabric; the shivers of lust pooling in his belly were driving him insane.

But Tom suddenly pulled away.

"Wha - what - no, don't -- " Harry stammered.

"Harry," Tom panted, "we can't do this. Not now." He stood and held out a shaky hand. "We just can't. You've waited this long; we can wait another two days."

"Oh gods. . . ..okay. You're right," Harry murmured. "I -- it was just so good. I don't know if I want to wait."

Tom grinned. "Well I do, and I can't wait to take my husband for the very first time. But it might be a good idea if we ate in the Mess Hall tonight and spent some time apart."

Harry pouted. "Why?"

"Because I don't know how much temptation I can take!"

---

"Oh God, B'Elanna, this is so embarrassing."

She laughed as she stuffed a slip of latinum into one of the strippers' G-strings. "Lighten up, Starfleet; they're only holograms."

Harry ducked as the other stripper jumped up on the table and thrust his hips into his face. "Did you program them to do that?" He looked up at the dancer, who winked back; he rolled his eyes and turned back to B'Elanna.

"Holograms or not, I still don't see why -- "

"Harry!" Sam Wildman called out. "Congratulations! Having a good time?"

"Well, it's a little crowded, and I don't know about these guys," he replied, nodding towards the strippers, "but otherwise it's great. What'll you have?"

Sam eyed the closest hologram, licked her lips, then snickered. "Just a synthale, I guess."

"Hands off the merchandise, Sam," somebody shouted from the corner. Sandrine walked through the door of the back room and held up two bottles of champagne. "You can look, darlings, but those delicious young things are property of the house! More champagne?"

B'Elanna held up her glass instantly and even Janeway chuckled, "What the hell -- make it a double."

Sam gave Sandrine a crooked grin. "You're a hologram, Sandrine. What possible use could you have for them?"

Sandrine winked as her accent deepened attractively. "Ask that nice young Doctor the next time he pops up to my boudoir after all the 'real' people have gone to their cold beds for the night."

Catcalls and laughter filled the room at that and even B'Elanna appeared floored. "No way!"

Sandrine plopped down beside them and toasted the air merrily. "You know what they say about bald holograms. . . "

Kathryn, who had been trying to keep a dignified front, totally lost it and began laughing loudly. "Oh gods!"

Seven looked up in confusion, "What do they say?"

"Well, ma petite -- " Sandrine whispered something low and bawdy into the innocent young Borg's ear.

"That seems illogical," Seven stated after a moment. "Ensign Kim, you are a male. What does the lack of living hair follicles have to do with the length and breadth of your penis?"

Harry buried his red face into his hands and groaned. One of the male dancers stooped low and said in a rich baritone, "If you really want to find out, I'm wearing a toupee." Harry sank deeper into his chair as B'Elanna, who was sitting beside him, laughed so hard her chair fell backward knocking her to the ground.

"Tom," he thought feverishly, "I hope you're faring better than I, my love." He paused that thought as he saw Janeway roguishly pat one of the dancers on his bare taut bottom, "But not by much."

---

"So, in conclusion, I'd like to welcome Tom to the league of married men, and wish him the best of luck."

Chakotay nodded as applause filled the teepee. "Thanks, Joe. I'm sure that all of us, even those of us who've escaped the noose as of yet," and he blushed, "share in your sincere wishes for Tom's happiness." He raised his juice glass. "To Tom."

As the crowd toasted him, Tom smiled, desperately trying to stifle the yawn that threatened to emerge. "I'm -- touched," he began, taking a sip of cactus juice to clear his throat. "Guess I didn't realize how highly you thought of me, although I do admit that after the first hour I sort of felt -- "

"Embarrassed?" Chakotay asked.

"Overwhelmed?" somebody else said. Catatonic, Tom thought, before stammering, "No, I suppose I just didn't think it would ever be like this. I hadn't imagined -- is it really warm in here?"

Chakotay grinned. "You know, Tom, Harry's been saving himself for this. Don't you think you owe it to him to purify yourself before the wedding?"

"Um. . . purify?"

"It's a tradition among my people to hold a cleansing ritual before any major change in life, such as a marriage." He gestured to the warm rocks lining the buckskin walls. "That's why we came here, Tom. To offer you a ritual purification so that you and Harry can begin your life together on equal terms. Computer, create drum."

The drum materialized in the center of the teepee; Tom gingerly picked up the drumstick that shimmered into being beside him. "You want me to play."

"I want you to relax, Tom," Chakotay replied, as he began to drum. The others followed suit; a slow, steady pounding that shook Tom to the bones. "Just relax and listen to the rhythm. Let it move through you, and as it does let it shake loose all the guilt, the pain. . . ."

They continued to drum. Suddenly Ayala looked up and whispered, "Um, Commander?"

"Yes, Gregor, I know -- let him be."

Tom was lightly snoring now, the stone poking into his backside the only aggravation to his nice dream state in which he and Harry were making love in the middle of a hot desert oasis. Just as his dream began to take a most wonderful turn, he was sharply elbowed awake by a frowning Tuvok.

"Huh?" he said, dumbly looking at his companion.

"Commander Chakotay is preparing to call the spirits of his ancestors," the Vulcan replied blandly. "I would regret it if you were to sleep through such an honor."

"Oh yeah," Tom said, disheartened, again hiding his yawn. "Ahh -- thanks." His eyes watered as great gusts of smoke blew in his face and a sweaty officer whose name he could never remember despite having served on the same ship for years stretched his arms above his head, exposing his apparent disregard for deodorant.

He turned back to Tuvok, "Thanks a whole lot."

As Chakotay began an annoying keening yell and several half-naked and smelly men who were NOT Harry began to keen along with him, he sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward. "Har -- I hope you're less miserable then I am right now."

Neelix tapped him from behind gaining his attention. "Y'know, Chakotay was going to do this boring played-out Bachelor party thing at Sandrine's, but this is so much better." The Talaxian sipped his nauseating cactus pulp merrily. "Good thing Ensign Kim said you probably would want to do something different for a change, huh?"

"Then again, Harry. . . " Tom thought with a scowl as Chakotay tossed some water on his head which dripped slowly down his nose, "I hope B'Elanna is forcing you to do some nice STRENUOUS Klingon rituals right now."

---

"WHOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

Harry blanched, picking the G-string off his shoulder with two fingertips as B'Elanna danced on their table sandwiched between two beefy strippers. "C'mon Starfleet!" she cried, as she grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him up. "Let's see some ACTION here!"

One of the strippers turned to him, swivelled his hips and slithered up his side. Mortified, Harry tried to jump down but found himself rooted in place by a pair of strong, muscular arms.

"Ooh, you're a cute one," the stripper breathed into his ear, barely loud enough for him to hear over the hoots and screams coming from a dozen overheated drunken women. "Are you sure you're taken? Seems such a shame. . . ." the hologram moaned, his hands slowly sliding around the young ensign. "To put all this away and never take it out to play."

"That's enough, everyone," the Captain suddenly said, lurching to her feet. "We've all had our fun -- some of us more than others -- but Harry's a nice sweet guy and I wouldn't want to embras -- imburas -- make him turn red any more."

"But Captain!" B'Elanna cried. "Harry gotta have some fun before he putsh on the ol' ball and chain. Hell, why not? Itzh only a hologram. Kahless, you people'r so uptight!" She gesticulated wildly, almost falling off the table in her enthusiasm. "Look at all of us. We're having fun for the first time in God knows how many monsh, and why not! You, me, Seven, even Sam -- "

They looked around. "Sam?" the Captain called. "Did she leave?" Seven pointed towards the back of the room from her seat on the pool table. "Sh'went back there 'bout half an hour ago with. . . " but her voice trailed off as she slumped into a ball.

"She didn't!" Sandrine howled, as the rest of the women dissolved into laughter. "Pierre is MINE!" She stomped towards the storage room, followed by the rest of the crowd. Harry took the opportunity to slip out the doorway and make his escape.

---

Tom watched the crowd dizzily as sweat ran down his body. This was sheer hell -- where were the strippers? The beer? Hell, the air conditioner. . . ?

Chakotay turned to the group of sweaty officers and held a feather high above his head, "I will now summon the spirits of my ancestors to this circle of men. I ask that you close your eyes and look deep within, find the core of your being and allow the smoke of their sacred fire to reveal the paths our lives must take."

Tom looked up suddenly. Close your eyes? Yeah, you do that pal -- Tombo's outtahere!

All the men raised their chins, eyes shut tight, as the fire blazed scorchingly high. Once again Chakotay began his low thrumming chant while Tom attempted to sneak away as quickly as possible.

He rose to a crouch, his hair barely brushing against the slanting walls of the teepee. Sucking in his stomach, he eased his way around a shrieking, howling Neelix before ducking his head through the flap of the teepee and passing through the arch into the corridor.

He paused to take a deep breath of the cool, clean air.

"That good, huh?" Tom smiled at his fiance. "Oh God, Harry, not in a million years would you believe what Chakotay cooked up."

The younger man laughed. "There's no way it could have been as bad as B'Elanna's version of a -- "

"Yeah, right," Tom cut in. "I'm sorry, Har, but my idea of a bachelor party doesn't usually include Ken Dalby screaming in my ear."

"I'd take that over a pack of women chasing stripp -- "

"Ensign Paris."

They both turned to find Tuvok standing by the holodeck door with a look of faint annoyance.

Harry piped up, "We were just -- comparing notes."

"Be that as it may, I must insist that Mr. Paris return to the holodeck to complete the purification ceremony." Tuvok's gaze softened, slightly. "I must admit that Mr. Neelix's screams of "Oh God please save me from my unholy lusts" are perhaps not conducive to the matter at hand. However, Commander Chakotay went to great pains to create this ceremony, and it is therefore beholden upon you to attend."

Tom sighed and gave Harry a mournful look as he gently caressed his cheek. "Oh well, I guess if everyone else has to suffer through it, I might as well suffer along. See you for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Forget that, Tom," B'Elanna called out from behind them as she latched on to Harry's arm. "The groom ishn't supposed to see the -- um, groom," and she snickered, "before the weeding. Wedding!" She giggled as she dragged Harry back to Holodeck One.

"Do you get the idea she's enjoying this just a bit too much?" Tom wondered aloud as he and Tuvok rejoined the others.

"She probably is," was the Vulcan's unexpected response.

---

Harry sat on his sofa stock still, trying not to move too much due to the enormous migraine he now had. B'Elanna was snoring beside him, drooling on his shoulder as Seven prodded her own face with her fingers, speaking up occasionally to inquire as to why her face had no feeling and why her tongue felt hairy. The Captain had long since retired to her own quarters after seeing him to his own. It wouldn't do to pass out in front of subordinate officers, after all.

He watched in trepidation as the old-fashioned clock ticked down the minutes toward his wedding. It was now almost seven A.M. and Tom would be at his wedding breakfast; Harry doubted any of his wedding party could hold theirs down. He cleared his throat as quietly as he could so as not to blow up his own head and reached carefully into his pocket for an aspirin.

"Great." He looked down with a scowl. No aspirin, but at least someone remembered the edible boxers. He almost threw them across the room but then reconsidered; he could be stuck here for a while and he might need the sustenance later. He put them back in his pocket.

"Ensign Kim!"

Harry winced and moaned as the Holodoc appeared in the doorway. "Ugh."

"Ugh indeed. I hope that you enjoyed yourself last night?"

Harry managed to stammer, "I, um -- ulp -- " before springing to his feet and staggering into the fresher room.

A few minutes later, he emerged, paler but a bit more steady. He held onto the back of the chair for support, nearly grabbing on to Sam Wildman's head as she dozed in a crumpled heap.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "You'll be pleased to know that I've decided to take pity on you, Ensign," he said as he pressed a hypospray to Harry's neck. "Alcohol anti-toxin. Consider it my wedding gift."

Harry let out a breath as the effects of the anti-toxin coursed through his veins, clearing his head and settling his churning stomach. "I don't think I could get anything better. Thanks, Doc."

The hologram nodded curtly. "If you're feeling better, perhaps you could help me with these -- " and he surveyed the scene, his face a study in disgust, " -- patients. I've already visited the Captain, of course; she'd prefer if the female members of the senior staff were conscious for today's festivities. And of course she needs someone to actually run the ship."

"That would be a good idea, huh?" Harry said as he rubbed the spot on his neck where the hangover remedy had been administered. He looked around. "Let's do B'Elanna first. She is, after all, my best man. . . sort of."

The Doctor cleared his throat and turned towards the normally elegantly beautiful half-Klingon who was currently sprawled across the couch and making a horrible noise. Stepping up to his charge, he leaned in to administer the spray. "Klingons snore. . . rather loud, don't they?" he muttered to himself as well as the Ensign as he moved her hair out out the way. "I must one day write a paper on. . . "

B'Elanna awoke suddenly and locked her hands around the Doctor's neck, "Whassup Doc!" she cackled drunkenly as she kissed him hard on the mouth.

The doc attempted to pry himself loose and stand at the same time. "Mmmph! muffleTorre-mmmph! Please, get ahold of. . . "

"Hee hee hee! I am trying to get a hold of. . . " she cackled as she cupped his bottom merrily, making Harry groan and blush in sympathy of her inevitable embarrassment later. The doc scowled and administered the spray quickly, "Ow!" she called out. "That. . . " Her head began to clear almost instantly. "Where am I?" She suddenly noticed the rather risque placement of her hands and pulled them away as though burned.

Harry walked over to the replicator and ordered up a large pot of coffee. "Good morning -- here." He handed a cup to her even as he took a long draught of his own.

The Doctor cleared his nonexistent throat again. "I'll go wake up the others." He gave B'Elanna a look that said 'you'll never live this one down'.

She returned his glared and sipped at her mug then winced at the strong taste before drinking again. "One hell of a party last night, huh?"

Seven piped up from the corner, "Doctor, my tongue appears to be developing hair follicles on it. It is a most curious and unpleasant phenomenon."

"I'll be right there, Seven." he responded as he took care of Sam.

"Sure was, B'Elanna," Harry said dryly as he sat next to her carefully, his head still a little tender.

"Doctor," Seven asked, "can you explain to me what the lack of hair on your head has to do with the proportions of your. . . "

"One hell of a party," B'Elanna repeated with a wicked grin as she took in the stupefied expression on the Doctor's face.

---

"And as we accept this food, O Creator of Life and Guardian of Death, we thank you for the gifts we have been given this evening. As the raven soars over her domain, we entrust our souls to you so that they may also soar over what is right and good and pure." Chakotay touched a match to the stack of dried sweetgrass. "May our offering bring us peace and purity."

Eight A.M., Tom thought, and not a damn egg in sight. He chewed his bark and sighed. If his friends at the Academy ever found out that he had spent his bachelor party in an overheated, smelly teepee with a dozen other men screaming and shouting in his ears and smoke stinging his eyes and making his nose run, they'd laugh their butts off. Hell, if it wasn't his party he'd probably be laughing too.

A sharp splinter suddenly embedded itself in his gums. He groaned as he fished around with a finger in a vain attempt to dislodge it. Shit.

He eyed with suspicion the dried beef being passed around now, idly wondering what deep, mysterious cultural meaning it held. As far as Tom could tell, every damn thing they had done had had some kind of long, convoluted, mind-numbingly dull legend attached to it. Chakotay had actually put Tuvok to sleep with one of the stories, which was a first as far as Tom knew. How the hell does this guy pick up chicks, he wondered. Probably talks to them until they become zombies.

He reached to take a chunk of shrivelled meat when his comm badge chirped.

{Janeway to Paris. Please report to my ready room.}

Thank you, Creator, he thought as he acknowledged the order and stood to leave. "Duty calls," he said with a smile.

He stepped out of the teepee and took a deep breath of fresh air. Finally.

---

B'Elanna hefted the large basket onto the table as she looked around the decorated suite for the first time. "Wow."

Neelix also glanced around in appreciation. "Very nice!" He nodded to himself. They were on a calm virgin beach at sunset. The altar was just a garden arch decorated with small pretty blossoms -- yellow roses, daisies and small clusters of white babies breath and yellow and purple status. The white lattice work was kept simple save for a large buttercup yellow bow in the center, its long graceful tails sweeping the perfect sand as the waves crashed on the shore in front of them.

"Understated," B'Elanna said as she looked at the simple, undecorated rows of white folding chairs and white linen-draped reception table filled with food.

Neelix frowned. "Very."

For a second they stood together, observing the scene. B'Elanna took a small step forward, "I think. . . "

"Yeah?" Neelix looked up hopefully.

"Just a few more flowers?" She quirked an eyebrow at the Talaxian uncertainly.

Neelix grinned, "Absolutely -- I get this side!"

---

Harry stood before the full length mirror in holodeck three, next to holodeck four where B'Elanna and Neelix had their teams decorating the beach program and setting the food out for the reception. He felt a nervous flutter in his stomach and felt entirely unwell. 'I hope I get through this without fainting,' he thought. It would ruin the most important day of his life, and probably the most important night as well.

Thoughts of his wedding night proved to unsettle his stomach even more. Tonight he would give himself body and soul to Tom Paris. His beloved. He gulped hard. If it was so beautiful, why was he so frightened? "Stop that!' he admonished. 'It will be beautiful. I love him, he loves me, how could it be anything but perfect?'

A simulated door in the back of the dressing room slid aside, and Seven, Sam and the holographic tailor came in. Seven and Sam were breathtaking in matching mint green sleeveless gowns with flared skirts, matching pumps and evergreen accents.

"Ensign Kim. Are you prepared for your final fitting?" Seven asked without inflection.

"As ready as I'll ever be," he replied, trying not to allow the dread to ring through. Harry was taken a bit by surprise when a mature Cardassian man stepped forward, holding a container of gathers and other tailoring implements.

The Cardassian nodded his head politely, and said, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Mr. Garak. I was contracted by the makers of the EMH as the test model for the ETH: the Emergency Tailoring Holographic Program. One never knows when one will need the services of a good tailor," Garak supplied with a wink.

Somehow, Harry found himself to be oddly unsettled by the hologram's friendly behavior, which was really doing nothing to help his pre- wedding jitters. He simply nodded in return, but felt he should keep a vigilant eye on this man.

"Now, Mr. Kim, if you'll step to the center of the room and raise your arms, we can begin." The tailor placed his hand on the small of Harry's back, guiding him to a specific spot, before reaching into his basket for the gathers and scanner. A few quick measurements, and suddenly the Cardassian had his hands in some places no one had touched him before. Harry flushed deep red with embarrassment. He didn't want Sam and Seven to see him in this position, but he was afraid to ask them to leave. He really did not want to be alone with the ETH.

As if the canny Cardassian could read his mind, he straightened, stepped close to Harry's back and said over his shoulder to the two women, "I will need for you ladies to step outside a moment. It will be necessary for Mr. Kim to unrobe."

Harry's eyes must have grown twice their normal size. His heart stopped for a few seconds, and then picked up again in a rapid, nervous tattoo.

He wanted to plead, 'No, please, don't leave me in here alone!', but that would sound ridiculous. He was a grown man, about to get married, and he was afraid of a holographic tailor? Unbelievable.

Seven turned without a word and stepped through the door, but Harry caught the smirk on Samantha Wildman's face, and suddenly he knew exactly who was behind this little prank. A fine way to treat the person who saved your newborn baby, sort of.

He stared after the two women so long that he jumped to feel strong arms come around him from behind, and looked down to see gray fingers working at the buttons of his tuxedo jacket. "I- I- I can do that! Really. Just a minute," he stammered as he quickly stepped forward out of the circle of Garak's arms.

What was he doing?! He was voluntarily undressing for this. . . this. . . . hologram? This hologram who was designed to do a job, to fit him for his tuxedo, for his wedding. His nerves must have gotten the better of him, he must be imagining things.

He took a deep, fortifying breath, and with shaky fingers undid each of the buttons on his jacket, slipped it off of his shoulders, then followed it with his trousers, taking care not to wrinkle them. He didn't want to give 'Garak' any excuse to keep him undressed for any longer than he had to be.

"What a lovely physique you have, Mr. Kim. Such smooth golden skin. I've always found gold to be such an intoxicating color." The tailor sighed wistfully, causing Harry's brow to wrinkle in confusion. The hologram seemed to be thinking about something, having a private moment. Wow, Starfleet really had gone out of their way with this one.

The tailor accepted Harry's pants and jacket, giving him one more unnervingly lecherous look before going to the work bench located on one side of the room. Harry found himself surprised that he hadn't seen it before. As if it just appeared there out of mere convenience. With a few quick, efficient movements, the tailor's nimble fingers manipulated Harry's pants, adjusting them and sealing the new hem. Then he turned with a lascivious grin.

"Here you are, Mr. Kim. Shall we try these on and. . . check the fit?" Harry warily stepped forward and reached for his trousers. Mr. Garak pulled them back from his reach. "Allow me to help you. After all, we wouldn't want you sprawled on the floor or for you to soil and wrinkle your trousers, would we?" Carefully, he held open the waist band, and held the pants down in a manner that reminded Harry of his mom helping him to dress for school when he was young. Reluctantly, he picked up his foot, and just as he was slipping his leg in, the tailor moved, just enough that Harry lost his balance. Harry fell forward, catching himself against Garak's broad, hard chest, his arm around the corded neck. Instantly he felt the Cardassian's thick, strong arm close around him.

Harry jumped back as if he had been burned. "I can get myself dressed," he snapped a bit more harshly than he had intended. His nerves were rattled enough without this tailor making it worse. He pulled his pants from the Cardassian's reluctant grip, and felt comforted as the polyester material slid up his thighs.

Garak seemed unfazed and leaned back, scrutinizing the fit and cut of the trousers. Then he knelt in front of the very flustered young man. "Mr. Kim, your inseam seems to be hanging oddly. Allow me to fix it." Before Harry knew what Garak meant, the large gray hand had gone to his crotch, cupping his weighty testicles through the thick fabric.

The fluttering in Harry's stomach suddenly went from butterflies to shuttlecraft. Pre-wedding nerves, this stranger literally scaring the pants off of him, and the still slightly woozy feeling from the alcohol he had indulged in bubbled up within him, and he was mortified to look down and see the tailor's sleek black head covered in Harry's breakfast. 'Well, at least his hand is out of my crotch,' Harry thought resignedly.

---

"You know, Tom, marriage is a very big step," the Captain said over her tenth cup of coffee.

Tom nodded, forgetting for the moment that Janeway knew as little as he did about the state. "I know, I know." He stared out the windows of her ready room. "Maybe that's why I feel like my stomach is about to self-destruct."

She followed his gaze out the window, then turned back, her face uneasy. "Are you worried about. . . ."

"About the wedding night?" He sighed. "Want to know the truth? I'm terrified. I mean, here is this guy who has never been with another person, who has no frame of reference; what if I screw it up? What if I do something and he hates it and he ends up hating himself and -- oh God what am I going to do?"

"You are going to be fine, Mister."

"I wish I had your confidence. Harry is so young and so innocent and so --"

Janeway arched an eyebrow. "Tough? Resilient? For heaven's sake, Tom, he's come back from the dead more times than most Starfleet officers see active duty!"

But Tom wasn't listening. "He's so -- Captain, I couldn't handle it if I hurt him. Sure, he looks tough and strong and all that, but inside, where it counts, he's really a delicate flower and I'm so afraid I'll crush him." Tears flowed down his face. "I couldn't bear it if I did that."

"Tom," Janeway murmured as she cradled the crying pilot on her shoulder, "Tom, give Harry some credit. Yes, he's young, and he certainly hasn't had an easy time of it in the Delta Quadrant, but that delicate flower you speak of is really made of duranium. He's one of the strongest young men I've ever met. You know, if I had a son I'd be pretty proud if he took after Harry. Or you, for that matter."

Tom sniffed and pulled away. "You really mean that?"

"Yes, I do." She sighed, reaching over to squeeze Tom's shoulder. "Now I know that you are the last man on this ship to need a mother-son talk about you-know-what." They both laughed. "However, I don't know if you've ever had to deal with this kind of situation before. Virginity is a very tricky thing; I remember when -- " She flushed for a second, then smiled. "But that's neither here nor there. What I wanted to do was to give you this." She held out a book.

"The Joy of Gay Sex," Tom read off the cover.

"I've bookmarked a section which you might want to read before -- well, before you know," she said with a slight blush.

Tom nodded uneasily. "All right," he murmured, wondering why the Captain would have her own personal copy of a book dedicated to gay male lovemaking.

A huge grin spread across her face. "So what's your first stop this morning?" she asked.

"I think I'll go grab some breakfast."

"Didn't Chakotay give you a wedding breakfast?"

He rolled his eyes. "Tree bark, dried-up meat, cactus juice and -- and get this -- he burned grass and blew the smoke into my eyes."

"Pulled out all the stops, did he?" She snickered. "At least you're in a state to eat breakfast. I have a feeling your fiance isn't quite up to it, going by how I feel."

---

B'Elanna looked around quite pleased by the changes they had wrought in so short a time. "Now THIS is a wedding!"

Neelix grinned and adjusted the huge purple, blue, and neon orange bow at the center of the fiery cave that now housed the wedding preparations. "Yup. The beach wedding thing is too overdone."

B'Elanna swung the large blood-encrusted bat'leth in a wide arc, testing its balance. "Now this is everything a wedding should be!" She looked up. "Got the blood wine?"

Neelix nodded. "And the tube grubs to throw at the grooms afterward."

"Tube grubs?" she asked in confusion.

"Y'know. . . those little white things. . . "

"Oh yeah." She looked at the chairs which were now ornate and draped with hundreds of layers of blue silk in dozens of shades. "Good thing we decided to help them out," she frowned. "Didn't Harry know that cerulean blue was Tom's favorite color?"

Neelix glowed in appreciation. "Check out the flowers!" he said hopping down from his stool.

She gazed at the huge wreaths of magnolias, poinsettias, and bright orange dahlias littering the dank cave floor. "Smells nice."

Neelix waved his hand in a modest gesture. "I tried to keep with the original scheme. . . only BIGGER!" he beamed. "Y'know?"

B'Elanna picked up a large wilting magnolia, her head snapping back from the almost overwhelmingly sweet smell, "Goes nicely with the sulphur fire pots."

Neelix looked over at the beautiful half-Klingon and allowed his jaded eye to travel up the long well-shaped leg exposed by the short skirt of the simple mint and evergreen shift she wore. "Say, B'Elanna. . . "

"Yes?" she said, as she smiled into the large waxy flower she held in her blood-spattered hand.

Neelix sidled over to her slyly, "Say, has anyone ever told you what a. . . " he breathed outward allowing the scent of his Talaxian mouth pheromones to drape her in their majesty, "beautiful woman of taste you are?"

B'Elanna allowed her lips to come within centimeters of the Talaxian's own. "No. . . "

Neelix leaned toward her, his breath catching in his chest. "No?"

Suddenly the razor-sharp Klingon sword was between their bodies. "But I have been told I was a dangerous bitch more than once."

Neelix swallowed his pheromones quickly as he felt the blade against his lower abdomen. . . his much lower abdomen. "Oh."

Sam chose that particular moment to breeze in, "Finish setting up the. . . JESUSGAWD! What the hell happened?!?"

"What do you mean?" Neelix asked as both he and his co-conspirator looked up in confusion.

"Jee-zus!" Sam grabbed her nose, "Smells like a goddamn whorehouse farted in here!"

Tuvok chose to walk in at that exact moment. "Oy," the Vulcan said quietly in an almost shocking display of. . . well, shock. Wildman tried to control the laughter that would possibly force her to breath in more of the foul stench decorating the holosuite.

Regaining his composure, Tuvok walked stiffly up the aisle. "Computer, reset holoprogram P-K one to its original parameters." As if it had never been, the room again became the soft sunset beach front, "As for the two of you," Tuvok glared, "I will thank you not to interfere further in the wedding preparations."

B'Elanna appeared almost contrite as she scowled back, "We were only trying to help!"

Neelix nodded, "We just added a few minor. . . "

"Minor?" Sam scoffed.

"Old Earth philosophers had a phrase befitting that very brand of 'help', Mr Neelix." Tuvok paused dramatically. "Hell is paved with good intentions. Now, I believe you both have other assignments to attend to."

Both miscreants muttered darkly to themselves as the left the 'suite. "Party pooper," Neelix sighed.

As they left, Sam chuckled, taking in the peaceful scene before them. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Tuvok breathed in deeply, "It is aesthetically pleasing, yes. . . "

Sam frowned amusedly. "But?"

Tuvok moved toward the simple wreath above the altar, "Perhaps a few more flowers... "

---

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. The vomit stains had come out of his tuxedo thanks to Mr Garak's vigilance. He almost felt sorry for the tailor, but then he remembered that the Cardassian had been just a hologram. A very - friendly - hologram. Nope, he wasn't sorry.

At least now his stomach was empty. His nerves mounted again, but there was no longer any real threat of him vomiting at the altar.

He stood nervously outside the door to Holosuite Four, surrounded by B'Elanna, Seven and Sam. As they listened, the first strains of organ music reached their ears. B'Elanna gave him a smile and thumbs up before squaring her shoulders and marching through the door. Then she was followed by Sam, and finally Seven. Harry waited, and when he heard the music change to the traditional "Here Comes The Bride", he swallowed a deep breath and stepped into the holosuite. He nearly fainted. Everyone who could be excused from duty was there. And they were all staring at him. He suddenly had an uncontrollable urge to check his zipper.

Then he looked up. There by the altar stood the most handsome man he had ever seen. Wavy blond hair brushed back; those blue, blue eyes piercing him to his soul; broad, muscular shoulders only hinted at under the thick material of the burgundy tuxedo. We can do anything, as long as we do it together he thought, as he took another deep breath and walked forward towards his destiny.

Tears formed in his eyes as he approached the altar and Tom reached for his hand. The Captain, resplendent in her dress uniform, stood in front of them and beamed. "From time to time," she began, "a starship captain is permitted the happy duty of joining two crew members in wedded bliss. I come before you today to join these men in marriage, but I admit, my responsibilities as Captain have never felt less like a duty than they do right now. Harry and Tom have chosen to write their own vows. Gentlemen?"

Tom smiled into Harry's deep mesmerizing pools of celestial beauty and whispered, "I will always love you."

Harry beamed at him as the music began to swell around them:

---

"I'll be your dream
I'll be your wish
I'll be your fantasy
I'll be your hope
I'll be your love
Be everything that you need."

---

The crowd sighed as the light tones of the young man's voice washed over them. His words were saturated in his undying devotion to the beaming light-haired rogue whom his innocence had tamed at long last.

Tom lifted his hand and kissed it before allowing his own emotions to take a songbird's flight:

---

"I'll love you more with every breath
Truly, madly, deeply do
I will be strong
I will be faithful
'cause I'm counting on you. . . "

---

His eyes darkened to a deep cerulean blue as he sang the next verse, strong and filled with pure emotion.

---

"A new beginning
A reason for living
A deeper meaning.."

---

Their voices enmeshed themselves as the love they felt was finally given great gossamer wings of eternal devotion:

---

"I want to stand with you on a mountain
I want to bathe with you in the sea
I want to lay like this forever
Until the sky falls down on me. . . "

---

Harry smiled as he saw the tears roll unfettered down Tom's perfect cheeks, then realized that he and most of the congregation were also crying.

---

"And when the stars are shining brightly in the velvet sky,
I'll make a wish send it to heaven then make you want to cry
The tears of joy for all the certainty
That we're surrounded by the comfort and protection of the highest powers
In lonely hours
The tears devour you.."

---

At that moment, the bridesmaids and groom attendants took up the chorus:

---

"I want to stand with you on a mountain
I want to bathe with you in the sea
I want to lay like this forever
Until the sky falls down on me. . . "

---

"Oh can you see it baby?" Tom kissed the knuckles of his innocent young groom reverently.

---

"You don't have to close your eyes
'cause it's standing right here before you
All that you need will surely come
I'll be your dream
I'll be your wish
I'll be your fantasy. . . "

---

Harry vowed:

---

"I'll be your hope
I'll be your love
Be everything that you need
I'll love you more with every breath.."

---

As their bodies pressed close, now totally oblivious to the dozens of people sharing in their joy.

Their voices came together one last time, "Truly, madly, deeply do."

"Well, gentlemen," the Captain said, brushing the tears out of her eyes, "I suppose that all I can say now, is that by the powers invested in me as a Starfleet Captain, I pronounce you husband -- and husband. You may kiss the groom."

Tom gently, reverently, cupped his husband's face in his hands. They kissed: a perfect meeting of hearts, souls and bodies.

---

End