by Kamin
---

Disclaimer: Everybody sing! "I don't own these characters[clap], Paramount does!" However, because I'm extremely dissatisfied with how Paramount's been telling the story of my favorite Voyager boys, I decided to borrow them for a few hours.

Setting: About three weeks after my last story, "As I Lay Dying." This puts it around the same time as "Remember," if I'm figuring right. If I'm not, too bad. As for the specifics, the Enaran delegation is on board. Beyond that, it's all the same, but it's different. For those of you who weren't in class when I posted my last story, the gist of it is that Harry and Tom are together, and not everyone on Voyager was thrilled. And even thought we've never seen a Horta onboard Voyager, I decided to include one. Just because there isn't one in canon (yet) doesn't mean there isn't.

Thanks: Hello, Gorgeous! Thank you ever so much Babs, for the title and song. Good luck with the upcoming marriage with Jimmy. Thanks to Tori Amos, for the song. And, as always, thanks to the folks at "General Hospital."

Dedication: To all my fellow slash writers on ASC and ASCE. Don't let anyone tell you what you write is implausible or invalid, or somehow sick.

©1997

---

Harry Kim walked into the mess hall with a light heart. Work had gone well, the Enaran refining equipment would speed up the work on the raw ore remarkably, once he and B'Elanna got it working properly, and to top it all off, he was in love. He and Tom had the last three weeks together, rarely parting except for duty. The crew, with the exception of the Delaney sisters, were slowly beginning to accept that Harry and Tom were a unit now. Harry didn't really care what the Delaneys (or anyone really, though it was nice that B'Elanna was so happy for them) thought about their relationship, but Tom certainly did. And Harry had heard all the names that had been tossed around with Tom's name, words that were usually reserved for Megan and Jenny. Still, for the first time in a long time, the universe was being nice to him.

B'Elanna Torres waved him over to their usual table. "Whew, I'm beat," the half-human Engineer said, taking a slurp of something that looked a little like tea.

"Tell me about it. The Enaran equipment just doesn't want to integrate with our systems. Jora Mirell and I spend what seemed like six hours trying to alter the phase-shift variables to no avail. That would be bad enough, but that woman gives me the creeps."

"Starfleet, what happened to the IDIC that the Academy tries so hard to instill in its best and brightest," she teased. Everyone on board knew B'Elanna had prejudices against anything, Bajoran, Betazoid, or Horta that dared trespass in her engine room.

"B'Elanna, you can't be thrilled with all these strangers in your engine room. I know you. But it's not so much the fact that Mirell is Enaran. She just reminds me of. . . Have you ever read old Earth classics? Nathaniel Hawthorne, Charles Dickens, that kind of stuff?"

She gave him a puzzled look. "Is this a meeting of Voyager Literary Society all of a sudden?"

He sighed. "I'll take that as a "no." Charles Dickens was a writer in nineteenth-century England. All of his works were published in serialized magazines and newspapers. Many of his works were fantastic or phantasmagoric in nature."

"Starfleet, you sound like the professor I had in Federation Literature 101 at the Academy. What's your point?"

"I'm getting there, B'Ela." He paused. "One of Dickens' best works was called 'Great Expectations.' There was a character named Miss Haversham. She had been dumped on her wedding day, and turned into this bizarre old spinster. Jora Mirell reminds me of her--I almost wonder if there's a dusty wedding cake in her quarters somewhere."

B'Elanna crinkled her nose. "Much as I hate to say this, Harry, you read to much. Have you ever considered taking up Klingon romance novels?"

He sighed again. "There's other characters that are even worse. A man named William Faulkner wrote a short story called "A Rose for Emily." Emily Grierson was an old Southern belle, and when this dame got mad, she got mad. When she found out her lover was planning to leave her, she poisoned him, kept his corpse in her attic for years, and--"

"Stop it right there, Starfleet." B'Elanna shuddered. "I did read that one, and thank you so much for reminding me."

Just then Neelix shuffled over and thrust a platter of something in both their faces. "Try these. I'm working on a menu for the reception for our Enaran guests--exclusively Enaran dishes. This is some kind of algae puff. Quite tasty, if I do say so myself."

Harry swallowed hard, summoned up all his courage, and took a bite. It was as if he's accidentally eaten some of the ship's antimatter. His mouth dried out profusely, his eyes started streaming tears, and his nose ceased to function. "Give. . . me. . . something. . . to drink," he wheezed.

Neelix beamed with pride at the effect of his newest culinary attempt. He hadn't been sure he'd gotten the blend of spices quite right, but seeing how much Harry was enjoying it, he knew he had gotten it down perfectly. "Try this, it's an Enaran vintage," he said, pouring a scarlet liquid out of a long-necked decanter.

Harry took a gulp, and immediately regretted it. It tasted and felt like liquid nitrogen Neelix cackled happily and went back to his kitchen.

"Harry, are you okay?" When the Asian didn't answer her right away, B'Elanna walked behind him and gave him several hard whacks on the back.

Harry's breathing slowly returned to normal. "I am never eating anything Neelix cooks again," he croaked.

B'Elanna tried--not quite successfully--to suppress a laugh. "Harry, I say that every morning after breakfast, but you still find me here for dinner every night."

"Are you sure he's not trying to kill us?"

"Not entirely, but I try to give him the benefit of the doubt, " B'Elanna said.

Harry, not quite sure if she was kidding, said "I wonder where Tom is. He should be off duty--" In answer to his question, Harry's communicator chirped.

"Harry, it's me. I'm still on the bridge because the Enarans neglected to mentioned that there's some kind of religious significance to how you have to leave the Fima system. I'm going to be stuck at Conn for another few hours. I'll see you later, Paris out."

"That seemed awfully curt of him," said B'Elanna.

"You know how the captain is. She's starting to encourage off-duty relationships, but on duty it's Fleet protocol to the letter. I'm surprised she let him get away with that much."

"I'm not. She's always had a soft spot for you two, Harry. I think she's been pulling for you to get together since we got stuck here. She knows how good you are for each other." More than anyone on the ship, B'Elanna respected Janeway. She knew quite well how much trust Janeway had extended her when the former Maquis was first promoted to Chief Engineer.

"The rest of the crew, on the other hand--" Harry began.

"They're starting to come around, Starfleet. Just give it time. Speaking of time, you seem to have a few hours free. What're you going to do?"

"Well, Tom and I were going to go on a carriage ride through Central Park and then have dinner at Tavern on the Green, but that's been shot to hell. I still have the Holodeck time, though. You want to join me in seeing an original production of _West Side Story_ on Broadway?" Everyone on Voyager knew of Harry's slightly eclectic tastes in entertainment.

"Thanks, but no thanks, Harry. I think I'm going back down to Engineering to get some work done." B'Elanna thought human theater was remarkably light--most of the whimsical fantasies that Harry had showed, _Phantom of the Opera_ and _Les Miserables_ in particular, just seemed so. . . happy.

"Suit yourself, Torres."

---

Harry walked into the empty Holodeck. There were a lot of musicals that he wanted to review, and a few, mid-1990s operettas like _Rent_, that he had yet to see, but he thought this was the perfect time to indulge in his truly secret, guilty pleasures. "Computer, run program Kim-Omicron-4."

The empty Holodeck was immediately transformed into an empty Carnegie Hall. Harry took his seat in the front row, and the first act walked out on stage. She was impeccably dressed in a Donna Karan gown, and her hair almost obscured her rather large nose.

She raised the microphone to her lips, drew a breath, and began to sing.

"I finally found someone
who knocks me off my feet.
I finally found the one
who makes me feel complete.

It started over coffee.
We started out as friends.
It's funny how from simple things, The best things begin.

This time, it's different.
It's all because of you.
It's better than it's ever been,
'cause we can talk it through.

My favorite line
was 'Can I call you some time?'
It's all you had to say,
to take my breath away.

This is it!
Oh, I finally found someone,
someone to share my life!
I finally found the one
to be with every night!
'Cause whatever I do,
it's just got to be you.
My life has just begun;
I finally found someone!"

On and on she went. Harry thought the song went on forever. He had wanted to play this song for Tom, but he thought Tom, whose favorite late twentieth-century musician was someone called Tori Amos, might laugh.

When the blonde woman finished her number, Harry stood up and applauded wildly. She took a bow, and Harry called out "Computer, freeze program."

The holograms froze in place. "Computer, are there any files of a twentieth-century performer named Tori Amos?"

"Affirmative," came the computer. "Two files, Paris-Delta-7 and Torres-Epsilon-4."

B'Elanna likes this woman too, thought Harry, amazed. This might be worth checking out. "Computer, run Torres-Epsilon-4."

The dark-skinned woman with the feline look about her vanished. Sorry Eartha, thought Harry, I'll have to catch your next show.

A red-haired woman seated in front of a piano appeared. As if possessed, she began to stroke the keys lovingly. Just when Harry began to think that she was only a pianist, she began singing in an angelic voice.

"Snow can wait,
I forgot my mittens.
Wipe my nose,
get my new boots on.
I get a little warm in my heart
when I think of winter.
I put my hand in my father's glove.

I run off where the drifts get deeper.
Sleeping beauty trips me with a frown.
I hear a voice,
'You must learn to stand up for yourself
'Cause I can't always be around.'

He says 'When you gonna make up your mind?
When you gonna love you as much as I do?
When you gonna make up your mind?
'Cause things are gonna change so fast.
All the white horses are still in bed.
I tell you that I'll always want you near.
You say that 'things change, my dear'"

Harry started to cry. The song was just so beautiful. He also realized that the story was a way B'Elanna dealt with her dysfunctional relationship with her father. He felt like he'd intruded on something that was meant to be private.

---

Sometime later, Tom entered Harry's quarters, surprised to hear strains of one of his favorite songs playing. The last piano chord faded, and Tom saw Harry, curled up in a fetal position on his bed. Tom laid next to him and started to stroke his hair.

"Harry, honey, what's wrong?"

"That song. It's beautiful."

"I know. I've always liked it. Where'd you run across it? I'm kind of surprised you're another Tori fan."

"I'm not. I was on the Holodeck, and decided to call your favorite singer up, but I ran one of B'Elanna's files instead. I feel like I took something that wasn't mine to take--I guess I stole it from her."

"Oh, Harry," Tom said, kissing the back of his neck, "Tori's music is meant for everyone. If she was here right now, she'd tell you that. Hey, it gives you new insight into B'Elanna. That girl is a constant surprise."

Harry let out a small chuckle. "She sure is. How are you, by the way?"

"Oh, fine. I feel like I've been sitting at Conn for hours, though. I guess I have been, actually. My entire back aches."

"Poor baby. Let me take care of that for you." With this, Harry unzipped Tom's uniform, and pulled all the trappings off his boyfriend's body.

When Tom was suitably unattired, Harry laid him flat on his back, and began a massage at his shoulders. He worked lower and lower down Tom's muscular back, punctuating every few seconds with a kiss to Tom's neck and shoulders. When he finally reached the region right above Tom's pelvis, Tom turned slightly, and slowly undressed Harry. Once his lover's bare chest was exposed, Tom began to lick and suck at Harry's nipples, with a casual nibble thrown in for good measure. Harry kissed Tom, before indicating that he was in charge. Tom obediently lay down again, to let Harry finished what he started. -

Harry kissed the nape of Tom's neck and then slowly traced a route down his back with his tongue. When he reached the small of Tom's back he kissed it as well. He reached under Tom's head to get at the lubricant stashed under his pillow. He applied some to both his penis and the index finger of his right hand. He gently put his finger inside Tom, and slowly began to work it in and out. When Tom was ready, he slowly pushed his penis in. He began to move in and out, slowly at first, and then gaining in intensity. Tom caught the rhythm, and began to move his hips in time with Harry's. Harry, inspired, wrapped his left hand around Tom's penis, and began to work it at the same tempo. Tom tensed and arched his back as he came. Harry joined him a few seconds later, letting out a squeal of delight.

Harry, sensing both his own exhaustion and Tom's, curled up next to his boyfriend, and wrapped his arms around Tom's chest. He kissed the back of Tom's shoulder. "I love you, Tom." "I love you too, Harry."

---

Harry was having a wonderful dream. It involved Tom, a field of wildflowers, and honey. Lots and lots of honey. Tom had been showing him some new and extremely creative ways of using the honey, when all of a sudden, he turned to Harry and said "Good morning. The time is 0615 hours, Stardate 50175, earth date March 2, 2372. Have a nice day."

Harry jerked awake. Another perfectly good dream ruined by duty. Tom stirred, but did not quite wake. Harry went about his morning rituals of showering, shaving, and dressing. Tom, who didn't have to wake up until Beta-shift, slept like a log through it all. Harry paused only long enough to brush a quick kiss across Tom's cheek, before heading out the door and into the turbolift.

Ensign Michael Corinthos, the Betazoid assigned to tactical during Delta-shift, had done the duty rosters for that week, and he had done them a little strange (Kind of like Ensign Corinthos, thought Harry). Harry and Tom were nearly always on Alpha-shift together, and B'Elanna was usually with them too. But this week, Harry was at Ops for Alpha, like normal, but Tom had been assigned to Beta, and B'Elanna wasn't on duty until the near-graveyard shift Gamma. When Harry entered the turbolift, it got even stranger. The Horta who ran Voyager's geology department, Lt. Kevin Collins (not his real name, someone had given him that one long ago) was assigned to the science station, Lt. Carey, who rarely came on the bridge was at Engineering, and Henley was at tactical. Harry didn't see anyone in the lift in a red shirt, and as first thought Corinthos had forgotten the schedule a helmsman, until the lift doors snapped open on the bridge, revealing Simone Hardy, the helmsman from Delta-shift ordering a quad espresso from the replicator. It seemed someone was pulling double-shifts. Judging by her face, Hardy was hardly pleased with Ensign Corinthos' experiments with the roster.

The captain was speaking Lt. Commander Laura Spencer, the head of Voyager's Stellar Sciences department. Due to the lack of senior officers on board Voyager, Janeway had decided to augment the bridge crew with some of the higher-ups in the science departments. She nodded at Spencer. "Very good, Commander."

Stations, except for the helm, were handed over with quietly murmured instructions and statistics. "Begin Day Watch," ordered the Captain.

---

B'Elanna walked into Engineering feeling well-rested. Thanks to Ensign Corinthos' masterful tinkering, she'd been able to sleep in. It had given her the opportunity to have a really wonderful dream. She wasn't surprised to find two of the Enarans there all ready. She didn't recognize the younger one, but from the description Harry had given her, she guessed the other one was the "creepy" Jora Mirell.

The younger one turned and spoke to her. "Lt. Torres, can you take a look at this? I still can't get our equipment to interface with your system."

"Not a problem. Let's see. . . yikes, this is going to take some work. At least you've pin-pointed the problem." B'Elanna was suitably impressed with the Enaran's knowledge. "I think I'll have to call in some heavy guns." She tapped her communicator. "Torres to Kim."

"Kim here."

"Harry, I think I'm going to need your help down in Engineering. Can you make it down here soonish?"

Harry sighed. "B'Ela, I kind of have plans."

"Cancel them. Harry, we only have the Enarans onboard for a few days. I want to get these new systems up and running with enough time to spare if any bugs develop. Plus, I can make it an order if I absolutely have too." B'Elanna was as much a sucker for true love as the next woman, but she didn't like things that messed up her ship.

"On my way." If she had been able to see him, she would have been able to see Harry pouting.

---

Harry was right, B'Elanna thought. I would expect this woman to have a dusty wedding cake somewhere. Jora Mirell was going on and on about how beautiful the Enaran homeworld was. Her colleague, who had finally introduced herself at Enre Tarn, was trying to be polite, but it was clear Mirell was having the same effect on her.

Finally, as a way to break the old woman's long, un-punctuated sentence, Enre checked the status of the new equipment. "B'Elanna, the new systems are still slightly out of sync with your E.P.S. system. We may have to re-calibrate it."

"Well, that's a lot of work, but not impossible." B'Elanna inwardly groaned. She didn't like strangers messing with her carefully calculated fuel consumption programs.

Enre, who B'Elanna had noticed making eyes at Harry all night, said leadingly "Maybe we could ask Harry to help us."

It's true what they say, B'Elanna thought. There's a Jenny Delaney in every colony, on every planet, of every species, in any quadrant. Still, B'Elanna had always thought of Harry as her little brother. Maybe she could get some big sister teasing done. "I bet he would if you asked him," she said devilishly.

"Harry," asked Enre in a deep, seductive, and obviously fake voice, "Could you give us a hand with this?"

Harry turned a bright shade of red. He looked like he was trying to come up with an excuse. "Um, of course," he croaked.

---

Once they had finished with the laborious re-calibration (with Enre standing as close to Harry as possible under the laws of physics), Harry said "Maybe we could go get some dinner, " while giving B'Elanna a look that pleaded "Don't leave me alone with this woman."

"Why don't you young people go have fun," said Jora Mirell. "I think I'll go back to my quarters."

"And decorate my dusty wedding cake," finished both Harry and B'Elanna silently.

"I think I'll go to bed too," said B'Elanna, enjoying watching Harry turn purple with anxiety.

---

Enre and Harry walked into the mess hall. Neelix was there, slaving over more Enaran dishes. He was clearly pleased to see Enre, who must have been his first Enaran customer. "Please try these algae puffs," he beamed. "I want to know if they're authentic enough."

Enre bit into one and chewed thoughtfully. "It's a little bland, but not at all bad."

Harry, who had turned green at the prospect, said "Why don't we sit down?"

Enre sat, and began to rub her foot against Harry. She batted her eyes. "You know, we're only going to be on your ship for a few days. That doesn't leave me much time to learn about your culture."

Harry squirmed. "I didn't, uh, know you were interested in cultural studies. Well, I know of a few great books that might get you started. With Captain Janeway's permission, I can give you some copies of the Fundamental Declaration on the Rights of the Martian Colonies, the King James Bible, the Complete Works of William Shakespeare, the Tao Te Jing, and of course, the Complete History of the United Federation of Planets by--"

Enre cut him off. "You aren't getting it, Harry. I'm not interested in your ideological history. I'm more interested in the social dynamics of. . . inter-personal relationships."

"Well, in that case," said Harry quickly, " you should read Sigmund Freud, Carl Jung, Psychopathia Sexualis by Richard von Kraft-Ebbing, On Relationships by a twenty-third century Vulcan physician named T'Sora, and, my personal favorite, Dr. Ruth Westheimer."

"Harry, I can't read your language. Personally, I was surprised that you Federations speak our language."

"We don't. Our language is called Standard. By a coincidence of cosmic proportions, both of our languages sound exactly the same."

"Well, in any I was always better at learning by doing."

"Um, yes, well. . . Is that the comm? Yes, I think it is. I better get to the bridge," stammered Harry, before racing out the door.

---

The door chime sounded in Tom's quarters. "Enter," he said.

Harry literally ran into his quarters. He was panting and sweating profusely. "Hurry, Tom. Lock your door. I think I lost her, but I'm not sure."

"Lost who?"

"One of the Enarans. Her name is Enre Tarn, and she can't seem to keep her hands or other appendages to herself. She chased me from the mess hall to the Holodeck. I thought I lost her in Neelix's resort program, but she found me again. I then led her on a tour of the ship, from Sickbay to the torpedo bays, to hydroponics. I nearly included Jeffries Tube 12, but I think she can crawl faster than I can. I lost her after I tossed my communicator into the gym."

Tom was swaying back and forth with laughter. "It sounds like Megan and Jenny are going to have some stiff competition."

"I'm glad you can joke about this, Paris. I'm in fear for my life."

"Aw, poor Harry. Did the mean Enaran scare you?" "That wasn't the worst part. Do you remember that film fest you showed me, the one of those two women who drove into the Grand Canyon?"

"Sure, that was Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon Night."

"Okay, well there was this one movie where the first one played this assassin, and she was frightening. Well, this Enaran woman looks just like her. It scared me."

"She walks into a bar, and sailors come running out?" asked Tom, remember a line from one of his favorite actors, who also happened to be in that movie.

"You have no idea."

"Poor baby. Let me make you feel safe."

Tom held Harry quietly for a few minutes. Then he broke the embrace and removed his uniform. He told Harry to do the same and to wait in the bedroom. Harry did as he was told, and presently, Tom entered the room carrying a clay pot with the word "Honey" written in childish scrawl on the side.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you talk in you sleep?"

Tom then proceeded to upend the honey pot, and let most of its contents dribble onto Harry's chest and stomach. He liberally applied honey to Harry's penis himself.

"Let me clean you up, Mr. Kim. You're a mess."

Tom began to slowly lick the honey from Harry's smooth chest and stomach. It took him quite a while--Harry was very broad man. When that was finally done, he set to work cleaning Harry's penis. It was quite a job. He first licked up and down the shaft. Harry sighed happily. Tom then swirled his tongue across the head, before deep-throating Harry, just to make sure he'd gotten it all off. He moved his head up and down Harry's penis, as Harry's breathing became heavy. He worked faster and faster, until Harry arched his back, and came in Tom's mouth.

Tom rolled Harry over, and then poured most of the remaining honey along the line made by Harry's spine, being sure to let some get down between Harry's cheeks. Tom started from the other end this time, first cleaning off Harry's asshole with his swirling tongue, before continuing his way up Harry's back. When he reached the nape of Harry's neck, Tom gave it a gentle kiss before pouring the remaining honey onto his own penis. He slowly pushed his way into Harry. Harry shivered from the unexpected coldness of the honey. Tom began to thrust his hips in and out--not quickly thought, because the honey was quite sticky. When at long last he reached his peak, he came, leaving a sticky mess of honey and semen down Harry's back.

---

The next night, Neelix threw a reception for the Enarans. Remember Enre (and the food), Harry had asked the Captain to let him out of his obligation, but she had fixed the evil eye upon him and said that she expected all of the senior bridge crew to be there. So, that was how Harry and Tom found themselves modeling clothes in front of the mirror in Tom's quarters.

"That suit makes you look like a dork, " joked Harry.

Tom, who was really rather proud of his orange suit with the(admittedly) goofy vest, looked miffed. "I could say the same thing about that brown thing your wearing. Ever hear of suit buttons?"

"No more playing Calvin Klein, Paris. We're going to be late."

"Calvin Who?"

---

The mess hall was certainly green. For some reason, Neelix had gotten rid of all the tables and chairs.

"Um, Neelix, what happened to all the furniture?" asked Harry.

"The Enarans don't use them. It's actually quite a good system. When they're done eating, they can just relax and take a nap." The Talaxian morale officer was in his element.

"On what?" whispered Tom to Harry, who tried to suppress a snort.

"Here, try these algae puffs. It's a fresh batch. I tried to get the spices closer to what Enre told me the Enarans like." "Maybe later," said Harry.

"Oh, Harry," a female called from behind them.

Oh boy, thought Harry. Here we go again. "Um, hi, Enre."

"I'm sorry I didn't quite follow your custom to the letter. In Enaran society, it's the female who leads the male on the seduction chase. That's why I wasn't so good at following you." Enre smiled. "But it looks like I caught you."

"Um, Enre, I really don't know how to say this, but. . . " Harry stammered.

"I don't like you; there's no way you could ever attract a man. There, better," mumbled Tom, just loud enough for Harry to hear.

"But what? Are there any other customs I should know about."

"No, what you did was fine, but, well, I'm kind of involved with someone."

"Well, could we include her? Would she mind that? It's an obscure Enaran custom, but not unheard of."

"Well, Enre, actually, she's a he, and I don't think he would like it. Would you, Tom?"

Tom gave Harry a withering look. "No, Enre, I'm sorry, but the only person I let my Harry be with is me."

"You're with another man? In public? That's vile!" Enre screeched, loud enough for the entire ship to hear.

Brel, the hugely fat man who was the leader of the Enaran delegation, put down the instrument he had been playing. "Captain Janeway, is this true? Do you let two males engage in relations openly?"

Janeway looked shocked. "Well, yes. In times past, our culture has had social stigmas about this, but now there's no reason not to allow it."

"Well, I must ask this to stop, at least until my people are off your ship."

"Well, Brel, my rights as Captain don't allow me to regulate whom my crew becomes involved with. I was under the impression that your society didn't mind such relations."

"Well, no, we see no problem with those relations. But there are children among our party, and being exposed to this kind of relationships would only serve to confuse them about the true nature of mature relationships. I don't mean to be difficult, but unless relations between these two males are stopped, I cannot permit you to keep our refining equipment.

Janeway's jaw dropped. "Minister Brel, may we speak privately, please?"

She strode out into the corridor. Brel waddling after her.

As soon as they were out of earshot of the group in the mess hall, she turned to Brel and said viciously, "From the beginning of this we have extended your people every courtesy. Now, while I have reservations about asking Lt. Paris and Ensign Kim to keep their relationship under wraps until your delegation leaves, I will do it. However, I refuse to order two members of my crew who are obviously so very much in love to cease and desist, for however brief a period of time, just because you are afraid we might corrupt your youth. Is that clear?"

Brel tried his best to remain calm. "Captain, you simply do not understand. We don't fear them anymore than we fear the relationship between your cook and nurse. However, our culture teaches that it is both implausible and invalid."

"I'm not going to stand here and argue this with you,. Brel. I will call briefing tomorrow morning at 0800 hours. You are free to come and discuss the situation with Mr. Paris and Mr. Kim."

"That isn't good enough. Captain."

"It will have to be."

---

Harry flirted briefly with the idea of wearing his dress uniform to the Captain's meeting. He finally opted for his regular duty uniform, though he polished his boots for thirty minutes, more for something to do with his hands than because he felt they needed it.

As he walked to the turbolift, crew members who just days ago had been calling Tom names greeted him warmly.

"Good luck, Harry," said Geron.

"Give 'em Hell, Harry," smiled Henley.

"Don't let the bastards get you down," commanded Chell.

Tom entered the turbolift in the company of Ayalla, who'd taken Ensign Hardy's place as Alpha-shift helmsman. He gave Harry a kiss, which prompted a "Please, don't mind me," from an amused Ayalla.

Harry gripped Tom's hand. "I'm scared, Tom."

Tom squeezed back. "I'm a little worried myself. But remember, this is only the Captain, not the Spanish Inquisition."

"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition," mumbled Ayala from the back.

---

Harry and Tom were still holding hands when they entered the Captain's ready room. Neither was surprised to see Chakotay there, but they were taken aback by Tuvok's presence.

Brel entered, looking rushed. "May we please begin, Captain. I'd just a soon have this resolved."

"Very well. Minister Brel, you've stated that your society permits such pairings, yet you say you don't expose your children to it. May I ask how?" After all the pompous windbags I've faced, thought Janeway(a picture of Admiral Gene Paris flashed through her mind briefly, as did one of Culluh), this one annoys me the most. Nobody hurts Harry this way.

"It's quite simple, Captain. The children live in designated sections of the colonies and the cities on homeworld, while those of this sort are free to roam the rest of the planets."

Like a kibbutz, Janeway thought. "So the parents are cut off from their children?"

"Not at all. Families live together. Passage out of the family sectors is tightly controlled, but simple enough to do, once a child comes of age. We just feel that exposing them to this kind of relationship with only confuse them." Brel ended this with a look of superiority at Tom and Harry.

"Very well, we'll consider this. Would you please excuse us for a minute?" Janeway indicated the door, rather less politely than she might have.

When Brel left the room, Tuvok was the first to speak. "Captain, while I completely disagree with the policies the Enarans embrace, I think it is important to examine the impact of the Prime Directive in these matters."

"I've considered that, Mr. Tuvok. But it seems to be that since Brel freely admits such relationships exist in their culture, it doesn't hold apply here."

"Still," he droned, "might it not be a violation if we expose their children to this relationship, which is clearly against their social mores."

"I can't see that it would be. Unless this matter is totally ignored, the Enarans must learn of it somehow, through literature or other forms of entertainment."

Chakotay spoke up. "Captain, I think the Enarans are dead wrong. But I have to play Devil's advocate here: we need that refining equipment."

"I agree, Commander. But, Harry, Tom, I can't in good conscience order you to do this. What do you want to do?"

Tom took a deep breath. "Captain, we can't put our own needs ahead of Voyager's. Harry and I decided last night that we can keep from being together publicly, if that's what it takes."

Janeway asked Brel to return. "They have agreed not to be together publicly in a romantic situation. Is this agreeable to you?"

"It is not. They must not be allowed to be together at all. Such encounters would lead to talk that the children might overhear. One cannot be in the other's quarters. The children might see him entering, and they would start asking questions. I must also request that they not be permitted to speak with others about the relationship. Those are my terms."

Janeway began angrily. 'Then I'm afraid our deal is off--"

"No it's not," interrupted Harry. "We can't put ourselves before Voyager. We agree, Minister."

"Very well. You see, Captain? These sorts can be reasonable."

---

After three days, both Harry and Tom were going crazy. The only pictures they had of one another were their official service picture. It wasn't the best shot of either of them, but it was all they had to remind themselves with.

---

Tom heard a thumping on his wall. He quickly got his phaser ready, just as Harry's dark head popped out of the ventilation duct.

"Whew," said Harry. "Now I remember what it feels like to be born."

"Well, you already remember being in the womb. This just completes the experience."

Harry and Tom embraced for a long time, and then turned to the bed and began making love.

---

In his ambassadorial quarters, Brel, who had been monitoring Harry occasionally telepathically, grew angry. He called a few of his retainers into the room. They conferred briefly, before deciding on a course of action.

---

Tom found himself tied to a post of some kind. He looked around and saw a crowd of Enarans. Brel stepped forward and began to read a list of charges.

"It is hereby stated that Thomas Eugene Paris is guilty of corrupting. . . "

Tom stopped paying attention and began to scan the crowd. He recognized some of the Enarans in the group, as well as B'Elanna, Tuvok, the Captain, and yes, Harry.

". . . The sentence is death," finished Brel, and then raised a gloved hand.

"Yes!" the Enarans in the crowd began to chant. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Save me, Harry, save me, Tom shouted, mentally.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" joined in B'Elanna, Tuvok, and Janeway. In Tom's mind, they remind him of Nazis saluting Hitler.

To Tom's horror, Harry raised his own fist. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"Now!" shouted Brel, dropping his hand in a chopping motion.

A blue energy field appeared, and would have obscured Tom's vision, had he not closed his eyes reflexively. Pain was rolling across his body. He was sure being trapped inside the warp core would be less painful.

"Harry, help me! Please, help me Harry!"

---

Harry awoke to the sounds of Tom screaming in pain. "Please help me, Harry! Harry! Please!"

"Tom, Tom wake up. You're having a bad dream. It's all right." When Tom refused to wake up, Harry shouted "Medical emergency. Two to beam directly to Sickbay."

---

The Holographic Doctor was first aware of Tom Paris screaming bloody murder. "Harry! Help! Harry! Please!"

"Kes, sedative," he commanded.

With the hiss of the hypospray, Tom's body relaxed enough for Harry to lift him onto the biobed. The Doctor immediately began running scans. "He's suffering from the effects of the Enaran form of telepathy. Kes, get the telepathic inhibitor off the shelf."

The slim Ocampan fetched the device. The Doctor placed it under Tom's right ear and activated it. Tom's body relaxed slowly, until he took on the look of normal sleep. "Captain Janeway and Lt. Tuvok to Sickbay," he commanded. "We have a situation on our hands."

---

Janeway's face went ashen "You're saying one of the Enarans did this deliberately?"

"There's no doubt," said the Doctor. "The severity of the neurological trauma Mr. Paris sustained indicates that whoever is responsible meant to kill him."

"Is there anyway of know who?"

"Not until Mr. Paris awakens. By that point, however, his mind may have suppressed the memories, as is common in traumatic events."

Janeway turned to Tuvok. "I hate to ask this of you--"

Tuvok cut her off. "I will perform a mind-meld, Captain. We must know who did this, as they may also try to get to Mr. Kim." The Doctor reached down and deactivated the inhibitor. Tuvok walked over the biobed Tom was sleeping on, and laid his hands on Tom's face. "Your mind to my mind," he murmured. "Your thoughts to my thoughts."

---

The images flashed through Tuvok's mind with such intensity that even his Vulcan pain-resistance techniques couldn't cope. He let out a scream.

---

The pain on Tuvok's face made Janeway's blood run cold. Anything that could make her stoic security chief look that way. . .

"It was Brel, Captain." Tuvok's voice was strangely far-away, as if he was trying desperately to keep his animal passions in control.

"Janeway to security, arrest Minister Brel. If he attempts to resist, shoot him."

---

Long ago, Commander Kathryn Elizabeth Janeway, first officer of the USS Titania, had been known as "Bitch on wheels" to all the junior officers. With time and a lot of effort, she had softened considerably. But as Captain Janeway of the USS Voyager entered the brig, she reached back in her mind and activated that part of herself.

She faced Brel with a hard look. "How dare you?"

"How dare you, Captain. They had agreed not see one another--"

"Don't say anything else," said Janeway, each word dripping with venom. "Because of your adherence to some absurd custom, one of my crew nearly died tonight. Doesn't that bother you? You nearly killed him because he loved someone you didn't agree with. So I say again, how dare you?"

"Captain, he was a threat to our society. He and Ensign Kim might have undermined--"

"Let's talk about Ensign Kim, shall we? What were your plans for him, eh? Were you going kill him too?"

"Yes. They should not have been allowed to meet. I'm curious as to how Paris survived. He should be dead."

I don't believe this, thought Janeway. He must be the most cold-blooded piece of filth in the galaxy. "Minister, I could say he survived because we have the best doctor in the 'Fleet aboard. I could say that. But I think I'll say this instead. He survived because of love. His love for Harry. I don't know if love is anything you know about, but I'll say that it's stronger than any custom or law you can throw at it."

Janeway's communicator chirped. "Captain, we're in orbit of the Enaran homewold," came Ayalla's voice.

"Thank you, Crewman." She returned to Brel. "You're home, Minister. I've had my crew ripping out your refining equipment. I'd vaporize it if I thought it would have any effect on you. But we're returning it to you. Your personal belongings have been gathered and are waiting for you in the transporter room." She walked to the console and deactivated the force field holding him. "Now get the hell off my ship!"

---

"Captain's log, Stardate 50181.7: We are leaving the Enaran homeworld behind in the dust. All is well with ship and crew. Mr. Paris has been relieved of duty, to give him time to recuperate. The refining of the ore is going slowly, but steadily. Somehow, I think this is only proper."

---

Harry and Tom were curled up in each other's arms, watching a movie from Tom's collection of the classics. The woman with the thick accent was speaking again: "So that was Mrs. Lundergaard in the floor in there. And I guess that was your accomplice in the wood chipper. And those three people in Brainerd. And for what? For a little bit of money. There is more to life than a little money. Don't you know that?"

Harry was wiping tears out of his eyes. "I thought you said this was a comedy, Paris."

Tom, who was sniffling himself, said "I used to think so."

The woman appeared on the screen again, this time curled up next to her husband. "Two more months," she said sadly, rubbing her pregnant stomach. "I love you, Norm."

"I love you, Margie." The credits started to roll.

"I love you, Tom."

"I love you, Harry."

---

End