by Omega
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My first venture into P/K, a short vignette. Please be kind.
---
It's no secret. I love to fly. For most people, their jobs are just that--
their jobs. For me, flying is life. Flying is heaven. Flying is free. Flying is me.
Considering the total fuck-up I was, I still find myself surprised that Captain
Janeway entrusted me to her ship. I mean, the woman served with my
father, for God's sake. Well, I guess I should stop making assumptions
about people. It's what's gotten me into trouble before. I know
it'll happen again.
If it wasn't for Harry, I wouldn't have lasted a day onboard this ship.
Everyone knew about me: the convicted killer. No one wanted to give me a
chance. Even Captain Janeway was willing to cut me loose after I tracked
down the Maquis. Harry wasn't, though. I'll never forget the words
he told me that day in the messhall, "No one chooses my friends for
me." I think that's the day when I first loved him.
Actually, I loved him before I met him. I know, I know, that sounds terribly
cliched, but it's true. As soon as I saw him on DS9, I loved him. When
he stuck by me when everyone else abandoned me, I loved him even more.
I just never thought he'd love me back. There I go not thinking again.
I knew it when we got back from the "shoreleave" from hell.
God, he was so guilt-stricken over nearly killing me. I told him that I
didn't remember him trying to do that. I only remembered him telling
all the other bloodthirsty inmates, "This man is my friend. No one
touches him." I will remember that to the day I die.
We both went on a much needed dinner in Sandrine's. She likes to
keep the light there low and it gave Harry's golden skin a shiny glow.
For the first time, I realized how beautiful he was. We weren't talking,
just drinking, playing pool, and gazing at one another. Suddenly, he stopped.
"Tom."
"Yes?" I said, raising my head.
To my surprise, he reached out a hand and stroked my face. That touch,
so full of tenderness and love, sent shivers down my spine and fire to my
groin. Harry then said, his voice unsteady, "Do you know how much
I love you?"
He started to pull his hand away, but I caught it and raised it to my lips.
I smiled shakily. "Probably as much as I love you."
Pool tables aren't meant for the kind of activities Sandrine's saw
that night, but it didn't matter. I would've taken him on the bar,
for God's sake. I just needed to be with him, have him buried in me so
deeply that I never wanted him to come out.
Well, anyway, I know people wonder why I love to fly. I love to fly because
I can move among the stars. The stars spell out Harry's name.
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End
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