by ^Q the Immortal
---

This story has been in the works for several months. . . well, okay, more like over a year, and now that it's finally finished I wanted to share it with everyone.

Please, tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is most welcome, compliments are printed and filed away to look at when things get really bad, and flames are laughed at.

Disclaimer: The characters and settings portrayed in this story remain the exclusive property of Gene Roddenberry, Paramount Pictures, Michael Piller and Rick Berman (Damn!). I make no money from this (damn, damn!) and neither do they (nyah, nyah, nyah!). They own all; I own naught but this story.

(c) 13 January 2000

This story is dedicated to my good friend Kylie, who nagged me until I finished it and without whom I'm sure I never would. Her endless patience with my ramblings and her quick wit and incredible sense of humour kept me going - even when I thought I'd never make it. Thanks, sweetie!

---

Harry hummed quietly to himself as he walked down one of Voyager's numerous corridors, headed for Holodeck Two.

"Hey, Harry!" a cheerful voice hailed him.

Stopping and turning to face him, Harry greeted his best friend with a wide smile. "Hi, Tom! What's up?"

"That's what I was going to ask you," was Tom's glib reply.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry innocently.

Tom snorted and looked directly into Harry's eyes. "C'mon, Harry! Don't give me that! What's going on?"

"I'm afraid I still don't know what you mean," said Harry, smirking slightly. It was unusual for him to be able to put one over on Tom, and he was enjoying himself tremendously.

"Harry," said Tom, with exaggerated patience, "You've been spending all your free time for weeks in the holodeck. What - are - you - doing?" Tom paused between each word, exaggerating them so Harry couldn't possibly misunderstand.

"I've been working on a new holo-program," Harry explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Tom rolled his eyes, and the gesture spoke volumes. "What about, Harry?" he asked.

Harry's face lost its smile and he answered seriously, "It's private, Tom. Please don't ask me anymore."

Tom, noticing the look Harry was giving him, sobered immediately. He stared into Harry's eyes for a moment before giving his friend a small smile. "Sure, Har'. I understand."

With that, he turned abruptly and walked quietly away from Harry, his head bent low.

Harry continued his journey to the holodeck, but he wasn't humming now and the feeling of delightful anticipation had faded.

Was he doing the right thing? It felt right, but he still wasn't sure. Tom would be angry if he found out about it, but the chances of that were minimal. Harry had enlisted B'Elanna's help in putting the tightest security possible around his program.

His program. Just thinking about it made him smile. He'd spent weeks going over it, getting every detail just right, changing things over and over until it was perfect.

But was it right? Was it? The guidelines for holo-programming were very strict. An incident on the Enterprise D had seen to that. You weren't allowed to re-create people from real life on the holodeck. Commander Riker had been upset by. . . what was his name again? B something. Berkeley? Brantley? Barclay! Yes, Lieutenant Barclay. He'd created a program using real life people, and spent more and more time inside the holodeck when he was needed at his post.

Harry had no intentions of letting that happen, but the guidelines were still there. He couldn't ignore that. He was taking a grave risk. If anyone ever found out, if Tom ever found out, the confiscation of his program would be the least of his worries.

His program. Harry's fingers tightened around the small disk clasped in his hand as he felt a rush of adrenalin shoot through his nervous system. Stopping outside of the holodeck, he inserted the disk and entered. The stark walls of the room with their yellow lines seemed cold and unfriendly and, for some reason, Harry suddenly felt ill at ease and apprehensive.

Shaking his head, as if to dispel all thoughts of anything bad, Harry ordered the privacy locks engaged and began program Kim-Beta 1. The stark walls vanished, replaced by the bright blue sky of earth and the warm sands of the beach. He didn't know which beach. It was just a beach - and an island somewhere in the Caribbean. He'd asked the computer to pick one at random as the basis for the program.

The sun was shining brightly and the sea was a perfect blue-green, waves lapping gently against the beach.

The beach itself was soft white sand, so fine that it felt like silk. A lush green jungle bordered it and Harry could hear the calls of several birds as they talked to each other.

He walked slowly up the beach until came to a large rock. He quickly shed his uniform and changed into the phoenix red swimming trunks that were lying there, as programmed. They were short, and quite tight, and he liked the way they cupped his buttocks. A chocolate brown shirt, left unbuttoned, completed the look.

Now appropriately dressed for the setting, Harry climbed onto the rock and reclined against it, propping himself up by his elbows. It was a bit uncomfortable, but not overly so.

It was the next part that worried him. Time to see if his programming skills were as good as his imagination. . . although, if his attempts to re-create the Doctor were anything to judge by, it probably wasn't.

Taking a deep breath, Harry began to whistle. It was an old tune, from the 20th Century Earth. Just a few notes in a certain sequence, and the melody created was one of the most sensual ever written.

"Hey, good lookin'! Where you been?"

He didn't dare look. He didn't want to know if it had worked or not. He didn't want to turn around and find a cheap replica there. He didn't want to turn around and see a deformed face, or a broken body. He didn't want. . .

Harry sighed. Truthfully, he was scared. He'd spent so long working on this program that he didn't want to turn around and see it had failed. He was scared, too, of his own reaction. What if this turned out wrong? What if he tried, and it all went wrong?

"You gonna look at me, baby?" the voice asked huskily, causing a shiver to run down Harry's spine. He had no choice. He had to look. Slowly, he turned his head.

His face broke into a giant grin as he saw the person behind him. It worked! He'd done it!!

Harry's gaze traveled up from a pair of perfect feet, to trim calves and muscled thighs, a stomach as flat as a board and a perfectly formed chest, broad shoulders, lingering a moment on the sensual mouth and then staring deeply into eyes as blue as the finest sapphire.

The perfect body was dressed in clothes identical to Harry's, except that the swimming trunks were an electric blue and the shirt (unbuttoned, of course) was white.

"Tom." His Tom. Perfect in every detail and his to enjoy. This Tom would never reject him, or hurt him, or say they could only ever be just good friends.

This Tom would love him, hug him, kiss him, fall asleep with him, and always be there for him. And, Harry told himself, if he was only a hologram it didn't matter, because having Tom like this was better than not having him at all.

"Are you going to stay up there all day?" asked Holo-Tom cheekily, his blue eyes dancing with mischief.

Harry arched his back and moaned sensuously. "Why don't you join me?" he purred coyly, looking at Tom through lowered lashes.

Tom grinned and replied, "Thanks, Har', but that rock looks a little uncomfortable to me. I'll just park myself on the sand, if you don't \\ mind."

Harry was off the rock and had his arms around Tom in less than five seconds. Hooking his foot around Tom's ankle, he toppled his creation to warm sand and covered his mouth in a bruising kiss.

As the pair of handsome men entwined on the warm sand kissed, a brief spark ran across the holodeck wall, disturbing the tranquil blue sky, before disappearing unnoticed.

Harry moaned as Tom's tongue plundered his mouth, robbing him of speech. He clasped his hands against Tom's exquisite butt cheeks and thrust their groins together, even as their tongues continued to duel.

Harry couldn't wait. Time enough for seduction later. He had waited for this, dreamed of this, wanted this, for so long. So, so, long. Too long.

Thrusting their groins together, Harry felt Tom's cock through the double layer of their swimming trunks and just the feel of that hard flesh was enough to push him over the edge.

As the waves of ecstasy washed through his spent body, Harry felt as if every nerve ending in his body was on fire, as if his very soul had been seared and there nothing left but a bright, hot core of pure pleasure.

"Mmmmmm," Harry moaned, basking in the aftermath of that wondrous orgasm. He felt so relaxed, as if his bones had been turned to jelly.

"You sure know how to make a guy go weak at the knees, Paris," he said, grinning slightly.

There was a chuckle from the body still lying on top of him. "My pleasure, Harry."

Harry looked up into the blue, blue eyes of his best friend and said seriously, "I love you, Tom."

Tom looked back, his expression just as serious as he said, "I love you too, Harry."

"Prove it," Harry demanded, forcefully. "Take me, Tom. Give it to me, good and hard, Right now."

Tom looked startled, then concerned. "Are you sure, Harry?" he asked. "It could hurt, and I don't want you to regret it later."

Tom stared right into Harry's eyes and said very seriously, "Be sure, Harry. Be very sure."

Harry stared right back. He said, "Let's sit up, Tom. This isn't something I can discuss flat on my back with you on top of me."

Tom's mouth quirked at the unintentional humour. "Sure, Har'. " He rolled off Harry and sat up, drawing his knees up to his chin and clasping his hands around his knees.

Harry sat up and crossed his legs. He put his arm around Tom's shoulders and reached into the breast pocket of his shirt, stained yellow from the sand.

"I'm sure, Tom," he said softly, handing Tom the small tube of lubricant. "I'm very sure."

Tom accepted the tube with a small grin of appreciation for Harry's foresight and looked right into Harry's eyes.

"Okay, Harry. Let's do it."

Harry nodded, just once, and licked his lips in anticipation.

Tom laughed at that. "You look just like the cat that's pinched the cream, Harry!"

For an answer, Harry leaned over and captured Tom's lips in a kiss. Not a bruising kiss, but a gentle, sweet kind of kiss. It spoke of love, and respect, and friendship, and longing.

"Do it, Tom," he murmured, needing that most intimate of contact so much that it hurt.

Carefully, Tom lay Harry back on the sand, gently running his fingers down Harry's golden chest. He paused at the waistband of Harry's trunks, and then slipped his fingers under the elastic and carefully, oh, so, carefully, drew them down Harry's legs and over his feet. He flung the now redundant garment over his shoulder and turned his full attention to Harry's body.

Starting with his toes, Tom licked, kissed, nibbled and sucked his way up Harry's body, paying extra special attention to Harry's nipples. They were a lovely chocolate brown colour and seemed very sensitive. He sucked first on one hard nub, then the other, hearing his friend's breathing become so rapid it was almost non-existent.

Finally, when he thought Harry was ready, he pushed those luscious legs up to those cute ears and began to relax the ring of muscle that formed the entrance to Harry's core.

First his tongue. He nibbled all the way around the entrance; little teasing bites that made Harry moan. Then he dipped his tongue into the hole itself, spreading it just a little and sending tendrils of pleasure throughout Harry's body.

Tom was just barely keeping his head himself. Harry was so uninhibited, groaning and moaning and gasping, and all the sounds he made turned Tom on so much he could barely keep himself from coming.

He uncapped the lube and squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers. Then he carefully inserted just the tip of one finger into Harry's anus.

Harry gasped as he felt the blunt finger penetrate him. It felt so good! But it wasn't enough. He thrust forward, trying to get that entire finger inside him.

"Easy, Harry," soothed Tom. "Easy. Don't rush it." He gently pushed the rest of his finger inside, stretching the muscle a little wider.

Tears of frustration were forming in Harry's eyes. He didn't want slow! He wanted Tom. Now!

"Now! NOW, Tom!" Harry demanded, glaring at Tom through the haze of pleasure that surrounded him.

But Tom would not be hurried. He added a second finger, and then a third, massaging, stretching, and making sure there would be as little pain as possible for Harry. He wanted his friend to feel only pleasure.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Harry felt the blunt head of Tom's cock slowly push against his anus. It was so big! It wouldn't fit! But, somehow, it did. He heard a 'pop' as Tom's cock worked its way inside of him. Slowly, Tom pulled it out and then inched his way back in again.

But Harry wasn't having any of this 'slowly' nonsense. "I don't want any of this gently and carefully shit, Tom!" Harry yelled, as loud as he could. "Give it to me, Tom. I want it hard and fast. NOW!"

Harry began pushing back against Tom, and Tom sped up, pounding into Harry. They found a rhythm, and it was as if they had done it all before. Tom knew how to angle himself to give Harry the most pleasure, and Harry knew how push back to give Tom the most pleasure.

"YES!" It was an exultant shout. Tom came, loud and strong, emptying himself into Harry.

Harry gasped as felt the hot liquid course through his body. Tom shuddered and fell against Harry, his head dropping to Harry's chest. Harry gently stroked Tom's cheek, looking down at that bright golden head and murmuring soothingly.

At that moment, a bright flash cut across the blue sky, unnoticed by either of the men below.

After a few minutes, Tom took a deep breath and looked up. "Now it's my turn, Har'. I want you inside of me. I want to feel you."

"Tom. . . I. . ." Harry stuttered. He hadn't expected this.

"Harry." Tom just looked up into Harry's brown eyes, and his gaze said everything Harry needed to know.

"Okay, Tom," Harry agreed.

Quick as a flash, Tom grabbed Harry by the shoulders and rolled them over, Harry landing on top of Tom.

"Oof!" he groaned, half in surprise and half in pain. Despite Tom's careful stretching, his ass was still sore from the wonderful pounding Tom had given him.

"Are you okay, Har'?" asked Tom, worry showing in his expressive eyes.

"I'm great, Tom. Just perfect."

"Good," said Tom. "I wouldn't want your performance to be impaired," he added wickedly as he handed Harry the tube of lubricant.

"Don't worry," said Harry, just as wickedly, "My instrument is in perfect working order."

"Show me!" ordered Tom.

Harry grinned, and squeezed a generous amount of the lube onto his fingers, smearing it onto his rock hard penis. Tom watched and, unconsciously, licked his lips.

Harry laughed at that and said, "Now who's the cat - Tomcat?"

Tom grinned and said, "Just stick that lovely thing in me, Harry. I don't need relaxing. Just stick it in and let 'er rip."

Harry did as he was instructed. Taking just enough time to get the right aim, he entered Tom in one sharp thrust, burying himself all the way up to the hilt.

"Aaaah!"

"Tom?"

"DON'T STOP, HARRY! FOR PETE'S SAKE, DON'T STOP!"

Harry pulled back until just the head of his penis was embedded in Tom's ass, and then thrust back again, harder. And again, harder. And again. And again. And again.

Tom was in heaven. Harry was doing it just the way he liked it. He could see stars in front of his eyes, and his body felt like it was about to explode. His own penis, limp a few moments before, was hard again and, just as he felt Harry's hot liquid spill into his body, he came again, spurting his own liquid over Harry's chest and arms.

Harry felt himself go, and the moment was pure bliss. A second flash of bright light streaked across the holodeck, once again unnoticed, and Harry blacked out.

---

"Harry?"

A voice was calling him. A familiar voice. Whose?

"Harry? Come on back to me, buddy. Come on."

Tom's voice. It was Tom's voice. Tom was asking him to come back. He tried to open his eyes.

"That's it, Harry," Tom encouraged. "That's it. Come on back to me now."

He couldn't refuse Tom anything. He opened his eyes and gazed up into the blue eyes of his creation.

But. . .a uniform? He hadn't programmed Tom with a uniform. And where was the sky? Harry looked around wildly, searching for the sand, the sky, the rock - but all he could see was the familiar, and boring, ceiling of sick bay.

"What happened?" Harry croaked. His throat felt like sandpaper.

The vision of Tom was suddenly replaced with annoyingly cheerful visage of the Doctor, who answered his question. "Lieutenant Paris found you on the holodeck, Ensign Kim. You had collapsed."

Tom had found him! What if he'd seen his double?! Had the program still been running? Oh, god, what if it had?? What would Tom think??

The Doctor frowned as he noticed Harry's heart rate and breathing accelerate and, mistaking the reason, said sharply, "Calm down, Ensign. You're fine. There haven't been any adverse effects from the incident."

Tom seemed to sense the real reason for his inner turmoil, however, and said quietly, "It's alright, Harry. Your secret is safe. The program you were running was shut down by the energy surge."

"Yes," the Doctor interjected, scanning Harry with his ever-present medical tri-corder. "We encountered an unusual nebula and the Captain, being the Captain, had to investigate." The Doctor's tone became sarcastic, "Of course, the nebula turned out not be a nebula after all." Here, the Doctor rolled his eyes in exasperation. "So, after it, whatever it was, shot at us and knocked out half of the ship's systems, the Captain decided to retreat and, thankfully, we got away."

"Oh," said Harry weakly. He felt drained and could barely keep his eyes open. He heard Tom say, "It's okay, Doc'. I'll stay with him."

The last thing he heard before he lapsed back into sleep was the Doctor saying, "You'd think, after all we've been through with nebulas, that the Captain would know enough to leave the damn things alone. . ."


The next time he woke, it was at the urging of his stomach, which was demanding to be fed. "Tom?" he croaked.

Tom materialised instantly, a look of relief on his face. "Harry! How are you feeling?"

Harry drew in a deep breath and said, "Hungry."

Tom grinned. "That's a good sign, Har'. Means you're recovering. How about some tomato soup?"

Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Ugh, Tom. You know I can't stand that stuff. Any chance of a bowl of noodles?"

Tom laughed. "Sure, Harry, one bowl of noodles coming right up."

Tom walked over to the replicator and returned a few moments later with a bowl of hot noodles.

Harry gingerly sat up, and accepted the bowl. At the smell of ginger and cayenne pepper his stomach growled loudly, and he dug into the food with gusto.

Tom watched him with approval until the last noodle had been sucked down. "Feel better?" he asked, noting Harry's colour seemed better.

"I feel great, Tom. Can I get out of here now?"

Tom laughed again, and replied, "I'll have to ask the Doctor, but I think you're pretty much cured."

"Computer," he ordered, "Activate emergency medical holo-program."

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," said the Doctor, as he materialised.

"Harry's awake, Doc'," reported Tom.

"And how are we this morning, Ensign Kim?" asked the Doctor, running his medical tri-corder over Harry and clucking thoughtfully.

"I'm fine, Doc'. Can I get out of here?"

"He's looking better, Doc'," interjected Tom. "He's eaten and his colour is a lot better. I think he'll be alright if we let him go."

"Well Mister Paris, it's a good thing you're here to tell me these things," said the Doctor in his most sarcastic tone. "I am, after all, only one of the most highly qualified doctors in Starfleet. As it happens, you're right this time. Ensign Kim's vitals are strong and he appears to be fully recovered from his ordeal." He looked directly at Harry and said, "I'm releasing you to your quarters, Ensign, but I'm ordering you to rest for two days before you even consider returning to duty. And you're to call me if there is the slightest problem. Understood?"

Harry's face, which had lit up in a grin when the Doctor had released him, fell at the mention of forced time off, and he nodded glumly. "Sure, Doc'."

Harry looked down at himself and asked, "Do you happen to have one of my uniforms stashed somewhere? I don't think walking through the corridors in blue pyjamas will do anything for my image."

Tom laughed and replied, "I picked one up from your quarters while you were asleep." He handed Harry a bundle of clothing. "Here you are, Har'. Cleaned and pressed. You'll be as neat as ever."

"Well, if that's all you need," said the Doctor, "I'll give you some privacy, Ensign. Remember to take it easy for the next few days or I'll put you on medical leave." With that, the Doctor departed, and Harry and Tom were left alone.

"I've got to go on duty, Harry. Are you going to be alright?" Tom asked, concerned showing in those blue eyes.

"Sure, Tom. I'll be fine."

---

Harry rushed into the bathroom and bent over the toilet bowl, heaving. He couldn't seem to keep anything down. He hadn't been back in his quarters an hour before those wonderful noodles that had tasted so nice going down, had decided to come back up.

There was no way in hell he was going to tell the Doctor and get put back in Sick-bay, so he just ate some crackers and drank some tea and went to bed, deciding it was just a side-effect of what had happened in the holodeck.

That was two days ago. Now, he was bent over the toilet bowl throwing up his breakfast of pancakes with maple syrup, and just about to go on duty.

Trembling with relief that it seemed to be over, Harry clutched the sides of the toilet bowl and gasped, breathing in as much oxygen as he could. He felt better but, standing shakily and looking at his reflection in the mirror, he looked terrible.

He quickly splashed some cold water on his face and brushed his teeth. If he looked a little pale, he ignored it. If anyone questioned him, he could dismiss it as nothing. He took a deep breath and headed out the door. Walking briskly along the corridor to the turbo-lift, he could feel his stomach heave. Harry gritted his teeth and tried not to throw up, reasoning that it was just because he was walking.

When he reached the turbo-lift, and got in, that seemed to support his theory, as he had no trouble on the ride up to the bridge.

The hum of the lift was soothing and he was alone the entire trip. The doors swished open on the bridge and he walked to his post, glad to be back. It had only been two days, but it felt like two years.

"Welcome back, Ensign." Captain Janeway smiled at him. "The bridge hasn't been the same without you."

"Thank you, Captain," replied Harry, smiling back. "It's good to be back."

And it was. Harry hummed quietly to himself at Ops as he re-calibrated the sensors. They were slightly off, and Harry liked everything to be perfect.

---

After five days back at work, Harry wished he could re-calibrate his stomach too. He just couldn't seem to keep anything down. He lived on crackers and weak tea, and, if he thought he was up to it, vegetable soup.

He avoided the Mess Hall at all costs, knowing he could very easily throw up at the sight of some of Neelix's dishes. He was unaware that Tom and Chakotay had noticed his behaviour, and both were concerned about him.

He lived in a sort of void between the bridge and his quarters. He didn't even feel like going to the holodeck.

His sixth day back at work, Voyager encountered a rather hostile alien race that demanded that they leave immediately or be fired upon. Captain Janeway, who never reacted to threats well, refused, stating that Voyager was only passing through and would be gone in a matter of weeks.

That didn't seem to matter to the three alien ships, which promptly opened fire.

The ship rocked with the force of the blows and Harry clutched his console, trying to remain upright, work the sensors, and keep his bowl of vegetable soup down all at once. The ship rocked again and Harry's fingers flew over the console, punching in commands and routing data to the rest of the bridge crew.

"Captain!" he shouted. Janeway turned to look at her Ops officer and Harry said, "I'm detecting another seven Thrarian ships on an intercept course."

"Confirmed," said Tuvok. "They are less than five minutes away and their weapons are locking on."

"Tom, get us out of here. Warp seven." Janeway ordered.

"Aye, Captain."

Voyager turned and the warp nacelles activated. It wasn't quick enough, however, as all ten of the Thrarian ships opened fire on Voyager. The combined firepower was enough to knock out Voyager's shields and console behind Harry blew, knocking the Ensign to the floor.

The engines kicked in and Voyager was away, leaving the Thrarian ships behind.

"Damage report?" demanded Janeway.

"Shields down to nothing, engines at full strength, weapons down to 46 percent of normal," Tuvok reported.

"Casualty reports coming in," said Chakotay. "20 injured, no fatalities. Hull breach on deck 11, engineering is on it."

"Thrusters and impulse engines functioning perfectly. We have full maneuvering capability, Captain, and I'm happy to report Voyager's best pilot is still in action."

"Thank you, Mister Paris," Janeway said dryly, smiling.

The comm system chirped and the face of the Doctor appeared on the main screen. "If he can be spared, I'd like to have Mister Paris in Sickbay. Some of the crew were injured quite badly and I need an extra pair of hands."

"Certainly, Doctor," Janeway replied, nodding at Tom to leave. "He's on his way." She turned in her chair and looked at Harry, who had managed to get on his feet.

"Mister Kim?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply, and vomited. He collapsed to his knees, clutching his stomach and rocking back and forth in distress.

Janeway's mouth hardened. She tapped her communicator and ordered, "Medical emergency. Beam Ensign Kim directly to Sickbay."

As the transporter beam whisked him away, Harry heard Janeway say, "I want a full analysis of the battle. I don't want my crew injured again. Find me answers, people."

As soon as he materialised in Sickbay, Tom was running a tri-corder over him. "You took a pretty nasty hit there, Har'," he said, as he scrutinised the readings. "You've got a mild concussion and you're going to have a whopper of a bruise tomorrow."

Harry smiled weakly and replied, "You should feel it from this end."

Tom stopped scanning long enough to give Harry a hypo, saying, "This should help with the headache."

He resumed scanning, then suddenly stopped moving the sensor over Harry and stared at the tri-corder as if it had grown wings.

"What's the matter, Tom?" Harry asked, concerned.

"Doc', I need you over here!"

The Doctor came over, snapping, "What is it, Mister Paris?! I have people injured far worse than Mister Kim to attend to. Surely you can attend to his rather minor medical needs."

Wordlessly, Tom handed over the tri-corder. The Doctor took it with an irritable sigh and checked the readings. Slowly, his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. He turned to Tom and demanded, "Are these readings accurate?"

"Check for yourself," Tom said.

The Doctor ran the tri-corder sensor over Harry and looked at the readings. They were identical. "The tri-corder is working properly?"

"I just checked them all this morning."

"But. . . this is medically impossible."

"What's the matter?" Harry asked, worried. What was going on?"

"Nothing's impossible, Doc'. After two years in the Delta Quadrant, you should know that."

"Within reason, Mister Paris. And within biological possibility."

"What's wrong?" Harry asked again.

"Biology's flexible, Doc'. You oughta know that too. Remember Tuvix?"

"That was a transporter accident, Mister Paris. An entirely different situation."

"WHAT'S GOING ON?" Harry yelled.

Tom and the Doctor looked at each other, and then looked at Harry. "You're pregnant, Ensign ."

Harry's mouth dropped open, and then he shook his head, saying, "You're joking, right? This is a joke. It's not biologically possible. Like the Doc' said."

"I'm afraid not, Ensign," the Doctor said. He passed the tri-corder over to Harry, saying, "You can check the readings for yourself. You're pregnant."

"So, Harry," said Tom, grinning for all he was worth, "Who's the father?"

"Tom! This isn't funny!" But Harry was grinning too. Tom's humour was infectious.

Unfortunately, Harry's mind made the connection just about then. The holo- program, that flash, his blackout, the nebula.

Harry burst out laughing.

Tom stared. His quip hadn't been that funny. "Harry?" he asked, puzzled.

Harry just laughed, not knowing how to explain. Tom was the father!

"Well, I can see you're feeling better, Har'," Tom said. "I'll let you get some rest."

Harry lay back on the bio-bed, still laughing maniacally. The laughter turned to tears as the full implications of what had happened hit him. He was pregnant with Tom's child, and when it was born, Tom would know he was the father. He'd demand to know how, and the truth, the whole truth would come out. Tom would hate him. He would lose his best friend, the man he loved, over a few hours of desperate pleasure.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around him, lifting him, holding him close as the tears fell. He sobbed out all the pain, the fear, the confusion, and the hope. A hand stroked his hair, another rubbed his back, and the arms rocked him gently while a voice murmured soothingly in a language he didn't recognise.

When his tears subsided, he looked up into the face of his comforter.

"Commander Chakotay! I. . . I. . . I. . ."

Chakotay smiled down at him. "It's okay, Harry. The Captain sent me down to check on the wounded, and when I heard you crying I just did what any friend would do.

Harry smiled sadly, "Thanks, Commander."

"If you ever need anyone to talk to. . .?" Chakotay let the offer hang.

Harry nodded and Chakotay, sensing his mood, gave the young Ensign another smile and moved off to talk another crewmember.

Harry swung his legs over the side of the bio-bed and sat up. He felt miserable, but his head didn't hurt and he wasn't seeing or double or anything. Gingerly, he lowered himself to the floor. No dizziness. Good. He took a step, and found he was all right.

Both Tom and the Doctor were pre-occupied with the other patients, and Chakotay was deep in conversation with Ensign Parsons, so there was no one to stop Harry walking straight out of the sickbay and back to his quarters.

Stripping out of his uniform, he stepped under the sonic shower, and sighed as he felt the blast cleanse his skin and refresh him. He stayed under for several minutes more than was necessary to be hygienically clean, but decided he didn't give a damn about the ship's regs. Harry wandered back into his bedroom stark naked and crawled into bed, his arm above his head, his left leg crooked, his right hand pressed against his abdomen. Of course, he wouldn't be able to feel anything now - it was too early - but soon, soon he would able to feel his and Tom's child moving inside of him.

He smiled as he thought of what his baby would look like. Would it have his black hair, or Tom's golden blond hair? Would it have his dark eyes, or Tom's blue ones? Would he have a son, or a daughter? A little girl with Tom's hair, and his eyes would be just perfect. Not that he'd object to having a son. A little boy with his hair and Tom's eyes would be great too. Without even realising it, Harry fell asleep thinking of his child.

---

"The time is 0730 hours. The time is 0730 hours."

Harry groaned, and muttered," Shut up," stuffing his head under his pillow.

"The time is 0730 hours," the computer repeated, ignoring Harry's grumpy whining.

Harry sighed, and threw the pillow aside. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The nausea hit him like a tidal wave and he made a dash for the bathroom, just making it in time.

After the vomiting stopped, Harry washed his face, brushed his teeth and put on a clean uniform. He was going to forego breakfast, but he knew he couldn't do that anymore. It wasn't good for the baby.

He replicated himself some crackers, a glass of tea, and an assortment of fruit. It was exactly filling, but it wouldn't come back up in a hurry, and he was pretty sure he covered at least ninety percent of the five food groups, so the baby. . .

What could he call it? He couldn't just call it 'the baby' all the time, and 'it' seemed so impersonal, like he didn't love it. He loved it very much. This was, after all, a child of love, his love for Tom, and he, or she, needed a name.

That's it! Love child! L.C.! Nobody needed to know what the initials stood for. L.C. it was, Harry decided firmly.

Feeling quite pleased with himself; Harry headed for the bridge. When the turbo-lift doors opened on the heart of Voyager, Janeway, who seemed less than impressed by his devotion to duty, confronted him.

"Ensign Kim," she snapped, "The Doctor has just informed me that you need a day of rest to recover from your concussion. What are you doing here? Return to your quarters. You're on medical leave for the day."

"But, Captain! I'm fine!" Harry protested.

"The Doctor disagrees," Janeway replied, "and since, as he has pointed out on numerous occasions, he has the knowledge and memories of 4 Starfleet doctors, I'm inclined to trust his judgement."

"Captain!" Harry exclaimed, unthinkingly, "I'm pregnant, not sick!"

Janeway stared at him, her mouth open in shock. Chakotay looked equally startled. Tom, who had been watching the exchange with undisguised amusement, was grinning fit to be tied at the expression on the faces of his two commanding officers.

Harry was equally surprised. He'd assumed that the Doctor would have told the Captain about L.C. He was a human male, and he was pregnant. Some kind of alien interference was definitely indicated, and the Captain should have been informed. That she didn't know was surprising.

Regaining control of her faculties, Janeway replied in a softer voice, "Your pregnancy aside, Mister Kim, you still need a day off. You need to recover from that concussion, or you'll be no good to me, or this ship. Understood?"

Harry nodded resignedly. "Understood, Captain."

He wasn't upset, not really. He could do with the time to lie down and recuperate, and some more sleep. It was just that he seemed to be on medical l eave a lot lately, and, whilst his replacement was good at the job, she didn't do it the way Harry did. He was very particular about things, and when he came back to work he'd have to spend considerable time getting things back to the way he liked them. It was. . . annoying.

Harry mentally shrugged. You got that, he supposed. A few minutes later the turbo-lift doors opened and he stepped out, heading for his quarters. Halfway there he suddenly realised that he didn't want to go back to his quarters. He didn't want to go back to bed. Okay, fine, he didn't want to go back to his quarters. So, where did he want to go? What did he want to do? The mess hall? No, definitely not. His breakfast today didn't seem to be going anywhere, and he wanted it to stay that way.

The astrometrics lab? No, he wasn't up to dealing with Seven today. The observation deck? Yes, the observation deck. It would be deserted, and he was in the mood just to sit and watch the stars go by.

Getting back into the turbo-lift, he gave the computer his destination and stood there, caressing his abdomen as he waited. The lift stopped and the doors swished open, and Harry stepped out. The lift had taken him directly to the deck, which was really just one big room with windows that looked out on the stars.

Perching himself on the window ledge, Harry leaned against the transparent aluminum and stared out at the stars rushing by. When had his life gotten so complicated? At first, it was just a simple matter. He went to school, he graduated, he went to the Academy, he graduated, and he was assigned to Voyager. He had minor problems, true, but nothing like being stuck in the Delta Quadrant. It was much simpler being a young cadet - he hadn't been kidnapped, imprisoned, infected, tortured or beaten up.

He also had no idea who Thomas Eugene Paris was.

It was when the Caretaker pulled them from the Badlands and into the Delta Quadrant that all these complications had begun. He fell in love with Tom, although he hadn't known it then, and Libby became less of a reality and more of a vivid fantasy. Then he and Tom had been imprisoned in the Akkitarian prison and he suddenly realised that the blond lieutenant meant a lot more to him than even a good friend should. He'd never told Tom how he felt, and never intended to. Tom was involved with B'Elanna and that was that. Tom's happiness meant the world to him, and he would never destroy it. That's why he'd created the program. So he could love Tom without the real Tom ever being aware of it.

That was the way it had to be. . .

---

Tom was flying. His hands caressed the helm controls like a skilled lover as he piloted Voyager home. The little run-in with the Thrarians had caused some damage to the old girl, but she still responded as perfectly as ever.

As they seemed to a lot lately, his thoughts turned to Harry. Harry, with his thick mop of black silken hair and his exotic dark eyes...and his noticeably swollen waistline. It had been two and a half months since that day on the bridge where Harry had blurted those words out. Tom grinned just at the memory of it. The look on the Captain's face when Harry had suddenly blurted out, "Captain! I'm pregnant, not sick!"

He wished he'd had a holo-imager so he could've captured the image. It was too funny! And Chakotay looked as if he'd been hit by a shuttlecraft. His eternally calm, cool and peaceful commander standing there like an idiot, his mouth gaping! What a sight! Tom grinned even wider; glad that the helm controls faced the view screen and nobody could see the expression on his face.

Behind him, Janeway and Chakotay were discussing the annual crew assessments. Their voices were low, discreet, but he caught the words 'medical' and 'bridge crew' and 'first'. Damn! He hated having a medical. It wasn't that he was worried he'd fail, he was in good shape and he made sure he stayed that way, it was just being poked and prodded by the Doctor. Despite his progress, the Doc' still didn't have much of a bedside manner and he tended to drop bad news in a very callous sort of way, as if it didn't matter. Oh, well. There wasn't anything he could do about it. Assessments were all part of the job, damn it!

When his shift ended, and Batehart relieved him, Tom headed for the turbo-lift and was surprised when Janeway called out, "Mister Paris? A word with you in my ready room, please."

He had a fairly good idea what she was going to say, but he let her say it anyway, as they sat down on their respective sides of her desk. She leaned her elbows on her desk, steepled her fingers together and looked over them at him, saying, "Crew assessments are beginning tomorrow, Mister Paris, and you are the first scheduled for a medical. Report to Sickbay at 9:00am precisely."

"Yes, Captain."

"Also, Mister Paris," Janeway continued, "I want you to have a talk with Ensign Kim."

Ahhh. He knew she wouldn't have called him in here just to order him to report for a medical. It was something to do with Harry.

"Captain?"

She sighed and stood up, walking over to the window, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared out at the stars. Tom swiveled his chair around to face her, waiting for her to continue.

"Ever since we found out he was pregnant, I've been worried about him. I'm a scientist, Mister Paris, and I know it's biologically impossible. But there it is. Undeniable. The Doctor's readings prove it."

She turned to face him, and Tom saw the worry in her eyes.

"I'm not worried about him being pregnant, I'm worried about the affect this is having on him. Talk to him, Tom. Try to find out what's going on. He hasn't been himself since it happened."

What could he say to that? It was true, but Harry wouldn't talk to him. He hadn't spoken a word about his pregnancy in two and a half months. He'd talk about anything else but his child.

"Yes, Captain," he agreed out loud.

"Thank you, Mister Paris," she waved a hand vaguely, "You're dismissed."

Tom turned and walked out the door, made his way across the bridge and got into the turbo-lift, ordering the computer, "Deck 4."

The lift hummed for a few seconds and then stopped. The doors swished open, and Tom stared into Harry's startled brown eyes. As the dark-haired young man got in, Tom noticed that his eyes were red and swollen. Harry had been crying. Damn!

"Computer, halt lift," he ordered. He turned to Harry and said softly, "Harry, we need to talk."

"No, we don't," was Harry's flat reply. "Computer," he ordered, "resume."

The lift hummed again, and Tom's face tightened. "Computer, halt lift."

The hum died and Tom stared into Harry's eyes. "We need to talk, Harry. I know it, and you know it. We've been avoiding this conversation for far too long."

"Tom. . ." Harry managed to whisper before he burst out crying. The tears ran freely down his face as he clutched Tom's waist and sobbed onto his shoulder.

Tom, startled by this swinging change of mood, hugged his friend gently, and muttered, "There, there," under his breath.

"Computer, resume," he ordered, and continued to comfort as the turbo-lift completed it's journey, as they walked down the corridor to his quarters, and as they sat on his couch.

Tom rubbed small circles in the small of Harry's back, making soothing noises in the back of his throat, listening as Harry's sobs quieted, and finally stopped altogether.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologised in a soft voice. "It's my hormones."

Tom couldn't help but laugh at the plaintive way Harry said it. As if he were worried that he would be upset, but couldn't help it anyway. Harry was so clueless sometimes. Tom had forgiven him for nearly killing him in the Akkitarian prison - what were a few tears compared to that?

"It's okay, Har'. I understand. You don't have to apologise."

"Yes, I do. I have to apologise for pushing you away these last couple of months." Harry looked up into Tom's eyes, "It's nothing you've done, Tom, I swear. The problem's all mine."

"Har', you're my friend. If you've got a problem, then I want to know about it. I want to help."

"You can't help, Tom. I have to work this out by myself."

"Okay, Har'," Tom agreed reluctantly, "but you know that I'm always here if you need me, right?"

"I know, Tom. I know."

---

"The time is 0830 hours. The time is 0830 hours."

"Shut up!"

"The time is 0830 hours. The time is 0830 hours."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Tom grumbled loudly, "I got that part already." He threw off the bed covers and sat up, yawning widely. He had to be in Sickbay at 9:00, so he pushed himself off the bed and staggered into the bathroom. Since he slept naked, he didn't need to worry about stripping down, and he got into the shower, programming it for water, rather than just the usual sonic blast.

As he felt the warm water cascade over his body, and wash the sleep from his eyes, he sighed. There was nothing in the world like a shower with warm water. Nothing. Soaping himself up, he braced his hands against the wall and let the water rinse it away. After about 15 minutes, he turned the shower off, got out and toweled himself off. Dropping the towel on the floor, he wandered into his bedroom and pulled out a fresh uniform out of his closet. He dressed quickly, and headed out the door, not caring if he was a little early.

Walking a little slowly along Voyager's corridors, trying to postpone the moment when he'd reach the Sickbay, Tom thoughts turned to the night before, and Harry in his arms. They'd talked forever, just cuddled up together, Harry's head resting on his shoulder. They hadn't talked, talked. Not seriously talked. Harry had insisted he needed to deal with his problem alone, and Tom had accepted that. They'd just talked. About nothing. About everything. About bad holo-programs and good novels. About Neelix's cooking and B'Elanna's love affair with the warp core. It was fun.

Tom's pleasant recollections were interrupted when he realised he'd reached the Sickbay. Putting on a smile, he said cheerfully, "Hi, Doc'!" as he entered.

"Hello, Mister Paris," the Doctor replied without turning around. "Thank you for being so punctual."

Tom shrugged. "Might as well get it over with," was his resigned reply.

"Lie down on biobed one, please, Mister Paris." The Doctor finished running a scan on Crewman Chell, who was sitting on the bio-bed, his legs dangling over the side, glaring at him.

"Well, Crewman," the Doctor said, "You're quite lucky. The bite isn't infected and a dermal regenerator will heal it in no time at all." As he spoke, he picked up the dermal regenerator from his tray of instruments and began running it over the red tooth marks on the Bolian's cheek.

"I suggest however," he continued, as the regenerator did it's work, "That next time you wish to court a lady, you do it with words, and not brute force."

Tom lay down and watched the Doctor finish healing Chell's face, and grinned as the Bolian glared at the hologram. It took a lot to make Chell angry, but when he was, it could have caused a super-nova. Unfortunately, the Doctor was impervious to it.

Just as the Doctor finished, the door to Sickbay opened and a tall feminine figure ran in, yelling in a language Tom didn't recognise. Chell began yelling back, and the two of them screamed at each other for what seemed like forever, both ignoring the Doctor's constant interruptions asking them to take it outside.

Finally, the Doc' gave up, and wheeled his tray of instrument over to Tom's side. "As disconcerting as it is," he commented, "I shall just have perform your medical with two Bolians screaming in the background. Luckily, my program is adaptable, so it should not impair my performance. Now, just relax, Mister Paris, this won't take long."

"Whatever you say, Doc'," was Tom's flippant reply.


Several tests later, the Doctor said, "Congratulations, Mister Paris, you've passed your medical with flying colours. Aside from a little weight gain, which is perfectly normal for someone in your condition, you're in excellent health-"

"What condition?" Tom asked, worry clearly visible in his blue eyes.

"I'm certifying you fit for duty," the Doctor continued, ignoring Tom and picking up a padd. He pressed a few buttons on it, and muttered to himself under his breath.

"Doc'?" Tom asked, sitting up on the biobed and waving a hand in front of the EMH's face. "What condition?"

"Why, your pregnancy, of course," said the Doctor, matter-of-factly, as if he hadn't just dropped the biggest bombshell in the Delta Quadrant on top of Tom's head.

"My WHAT?!" Tom shouted, his eyes widening in shock and his hands flying to his abdomen.

Then, he noticed the grin on the Doctor's face, and relaxed, "Oh, I get it. Very funny, Doc'. Great joke."

The grin vanished. "I'm deadly serious, Mister Paris. Like Ensign Kim, you are pregnant."

"Ohhhhh. Isn't it wonderful, Chelly?" a feminine voice gushed.

The Doctor and Tom had both forgotten about the Bolians, and now Chell's friend, Ensign Chepel, was smiling soppily at the blond Lieutenant while Chell merely stared, his mouth hanging.

"In fact," the Doctor continued, his voice and facial expression radiating confusion, "According to these readings, you're exactly three months along - the same as Ensign Kim. It's as if you both conceived at the same time. Fascinating."

"Never mind fascinating, Doc'," Tom growled, trying to ignore Chell, and knowing that the news of his pregnancy would be all over the ship within half an hour, "Is my baby alright?"

"Hmmm?" The Doctor was still absorbed with his readings. "Oh. Yes, Mister Paris, your baby is in perfect health."

Well, then, there was nothing more to be said. Tom gently slid down off the biobed and walked out of the Sickbay, leaving the Doctor to mull over the readings.


He walked through Voyager's corridors once more, his thoughts a jumble. Pregnant! He was pregnant! Now what was he supposed to do?

He could get rid of it. The Doc' could simply transport it out of his body and that would be that. End of problem. But did he want to get rid of it? It was an amazing thing. He shouldn't even be able to carry a baby, but he'd already done it for three months. Carried a life inside him. Harry! He needed to talk to Harry. He had a decision to make, and Harry could help him. There were also things that Harry needed to know, things that Tom had to tell him. Harry wanted to go through this alone, and he'd have been quite happy to grant his friend's request - if it had only been Harry who was pregnant. This changed everything. He had no choice now. Harry had to listen and Tom had to talk. He walked to the nearest wall panel and pressed a key, saying, "Computer, locate Ensign Kim."

"Ensign Kim is on Deck 4, Section 43."

Tom headed for the nearest turbo-lift, his face set. As the lift hummed gently, and as the doors opened, and as Tom walked along the corridor of Deck 4, and even as he stood outside Harry's door, ready to press the door chime, he couldn't help but think, 'What if. . .?'

What if Harry doesn't believe me? What if he rejects me? What if he hates me for the rest of my life for what I've done? What if he tells me to get the hell out of his life? What if. . .?

He pressed the door chime. 'What if' was all very well, but he would never find out if he stood out in the corridor all day.

A voice called out, "Come," and the door opened. He stopped short at the sight of Harry, bare-chested, pulling on a white shirt.

"Tom!" he exclaimed, pausing. After a few moments, he regained control of himself and began calmly buttoning up his shirt. "What's up?" he asked.

Tom walked straight in and plonked himself down on the couch, saying, "Harry, I've got to tell you something, and then we really need to talk."

"Tom, I-"

"Harry, I'm pregnant," Tom interrupted his friend mid-sentence.

Harry's mouth dropped open. "What? Tom, you're joking right? This is a joke."

Tom smiled at Harry's expression and replied sadly, "No, Har'. 'Fraid not. This is for real. And, he took a deep breath, "You're the father."

At this declaration, Harry's knees gave way and he fell to the carpet, shocked beyond belief. He looked up at Tom and stuttered, "Ar-are you shu-sure?"

Tom nodded. "I'm sure, Harry. And I'm the father of your rug-rat." He looked directly into Harry's eyes. "Aren't I?"

"Yes," he whispered.

Tom stood and walked over to Harry, still on his knees in the middle of his living room.Gently, Tom picked his lover up and carried him over to the couch, where he set him down carefully and then sat down beside him.

"I. . . I was curious about your holo-program," Tom began slowly, not looking at Harry. "I was just going to go in, have a look, and then leave, but when I saw what it was. . ."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, "I never meant to-"

"I know," Tom interrupted, "It's okay, Har'. I saw that replica of me, me, standing there and I thought, Why didn't he tell me? I've been in lust with you since I saved you from that Ferengi on DS9, and in love with you since Fear had you as a mind-prisoner in that holo-matrix thing, but I never dreamed you felt the same way about me."

"I've always loved you, Tom. Always." The words were spoken softly, so softly Tom thought Harry had not spoken them. But he had, and they made Tom's heart sing with joy.

"So," Tom continued, "During those few minutes when you hesitated about getting down off of the rock, I deleted my double and replaced him. It wasn't hard to get the computer to replicate the shorts and the shirt."

Harry nodded. For a hacker of Tom's skills, something like two items of clothing wouldn't be that hard at all.

"There was this bright flash across the sky, I saw it just as you climaxed in me. Then we both blacked out. I came to first, and the program had shut down. I didn't want you to know that I knew about the program, or that it was really me, so I changed into my uniform and had you beamed directly to Sickbay. When we found you were pregnant, I didn't think anything of it. But now. . ."

"Yes," Harry nodded in agreement. "That flash. It must have affected us in some way. . ."

"The nebula," Tom and Harry chorused in unison.

"Right," said Tom, "It wasn't a nebula after all, remember the Doc' saying so? It must have caused that flash. It did something to us that let us get pregnant."

"Tom?"

"Harry?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Are you going to keep the baby?"

Tom sighed and replied, "I don't know, Har'. I really don't. I've thought about it a lot. I was hoping you could help me make the decision. I mean, it's our child. Ours. Yours and mine. It's a miracle. But. .. "

"What?"

"Well, we've already got one miracle. Do we deserve another? And, if I do have this child, will it only know me? Is it going to know it's other father?"

"Tom," Harry silenced his lover, placing one finger over his lips. Startled, Tom quieted. "I love you. I want to raise L.C. with you. I want to raise bothof our children together. I want us to be together forever. You just have to ask yourself. . . do you want the same thing? Do you love me? Do you love your baby? Do you love my baby? Do you want us to be together?"

It was amazing, Tom thought, how Harry had a way of putting things into perspective. A way of reducing the most fantastical problems into the simplest of things. Did he love Harry? The answer to that was an unequivocal YES. Did he love his baby? Yes. He loved his baby. Did he love Harry's baby? Of course he did. It was part of him. How could he not? Did he want the two of them to be together? Oh, yes. Definitely. Tom couldn't imagine the rest of his life without Harry in it. It wasn't possible. He-wait a sec'! L.C.? Who the hell was L.C.?

Tom turned to face Harry and replied, "Yes, Harry. I love you. I love our babies. I want us to be together. Forever." He leaned forward and gently kissed his lover on the forehead. "I just have one question."

"Yes?"

"Who is L.C.?"

---
Six months later. . .

Tom's eyes flew open and he gasped, his hand going to his swollen abdomen. "Harry." He nudged the figure sleeping next to him. "Harry!"

"What is it?" Harry asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

"It's time, lover. This baby is coming!"

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, suddenly alert.

"Unless you can get indigestion on a empty stomach, Har', I'd say these are contractions!"

Harry grabbed his communicator off the nightstand and tapped it, "Two to beam directly to Sickbay."

The glittering swirl of the transporter beam surrounded them and, seconds later, they were in Sickbay. Harry got Tom up on a biobed and called out, "Computer, activate EMH program."

The Doctor materialised. "Please state the nature of the medical emergency."

"Doc'! Tom's in labour!"

The Doctor grabbed his medical tri-corder and ran the scanner over Tom, scrutinising the readings. . .


On the bridge, Captain Janeway paced up and down, her face betraying the tension she was feeling. Chakotay, sitting calmly in his chair, tried to reassure her, "The Doctor is a skilled physician, Kathryn. I'm sure Tom will be all right."

"It's not that, Chakotay. The Doctor is excellent at his job. I just can't stand all this waiting. Tom's had three false alarms in the last two weeks. I want these children born!"

Chakotay grinned. "Anyone would think it was your baby Tom Paris was having," he teased.

"This debate is illogical. Mister Paris's child will be born when it is born. As will Ensign Kim's. Physical activity upon your part, Captain, will not expedite the procedure, nor will humourous remarks upon yours, Commander."

Janeway grinned at Chakotay. "I think we've just been told off, Chakotay."

Before the Commander could reply, Tuvok said, "I am merely stating the facts as they are."

Janeway opened her mouth to say something, but never got the chance as her comm- badge chose that moment to chirp.

"Doctor to Captain Janeway."

Janeway tapped her comm-badge. "Janeway here."

"I thought you'd like to know, Captain, Mister Paris has just given birth to a healthy baby girl."

"Thank you, Doctor. I'm on my way. Janeway out."

In Sickbay, the Doctor passed a tiny human wrapped in a blue blanket, and screaming her lungs out, to Tom, saying, "You have a daughter, Mister Paris."

Tom looked lovingly down at his little girl, noting her dark slanted eyes, her bronze skin and the thin blond fuzz on her head. She was perfect. Just perfect.

He bent his head and whispered softly in one tiny ear, "I love you, beautiful, and I promise I'll be the best dad in the world to you. I won't make the mistakes my father did."

Harry, who hadn't left his place at Tom's side, leant over his lover, the bulk of his large stomach making it difficult, but he nevertheless kissed his lover, and his daughter, saying, "She's beautiful, Tom. Just like you."

"No," Tom disagreed. "Just like you."

Harry smiled, but then grimaced and clutched his stomach. "Ooooohhhh!" he moaned.

"Harry?" Tom asked, worried. "Harry, what's wrong?"

The Doctor ran his tri-corder over Harry, saying, "The same thing that was wrong with you not too long ago, Mister Paris. Ensign Kim is in labour."

Putting his arm around Harry's shoulders, the Doctor supported the pregnant man over to another biobed and helped lie down.

The Sickbay doors chose that moment to swish open, and Janeway strode in, her face tight as she tried to control her anxiety.

"Doctor? What's going on?"

"No time, now, Captain. I have to bring Ensign Kim's child into the world."

Pulling the fetal transporter and a crib over to Harry's side, the Doctor pushed a few controls and then ran his fingers up a panel. "Energising."

The transporter hummed and the child materialised inside the crib. The Doctor ran his tri-corder over the tiny human being and then smiled as he said pronounced, "Your son is in perfect health, Ensign Kim."

A son! Harry sighed and smiled in happiness. He had a son.

The Doctor carefully passed his son over to him, wrapped, as his daughter was, in a blue blanket. He stared down into his bright blue eyes and reached up to gently run a finger down the pale white skin of his face.

"They're both alright, Doctor?" Janeway asked, her concern written all over her face, though she was obviously trying hard not to let it show. It would not do to see the Captain in a fluster over the birth of a child-

The Doctor, smiling broadly, said, "I'm pleased to report that the two newest additions to the Voyager family are both in perfect health, Captain. Mister Paris has a girl, as you already know, and Ensign Kim has a boy."

Correction, over the births of two children, however much the parents of these particular children meant to her. And they did mean a lot. Harry was like her son, and Tom was. . . well, Tom was Tom. He wasn't anybody's son, but she loved like him one anyway.

"What are you going to name them, gentlemen?" she asked, before coming to stand next to Tom, who was gently rocking his daughter. "Imogene," he said, looking up at her, "Her name's Imogene Kylie Kim."

Janeway leant over the bed and stroked Imogene's face with one finger. "Oh," she said, her breath catching in her throat, "She's adorable, Tom. She has your hair, and Harry's eyes. She's going to break hearts when she gets older."

She gently kissed the baby and then straightened up, looking directly at Tom, "Let's hope she grows up to be as good a pilot as her father."

Tom grinned, and replied, "Don't worry, Captain. I'll have her flying before she can even walk."

"That wouldn't surprise me in the least, Mister Paris," the Doctor interjected from Harry's bedside.

Janeway smiled at Tom, then walked over to Harry's bed. He too was rocking his baby and, for some reason, when she bent to kiss him, Janeway wasn't at all surprised to be looking into a pair of bright blue eyes.

Her lips brushed the tiny boy's soft white skin and she felt a tiny hand hit her on the face. She straightened up and held out a finger for the little hand to grasp.

"What's his name?" she asked, smiling at her beloved Harry as she played with his baby.

He thought for a moment, and then replied, "Alexander. Alexander Reuben Paris."

"You two are set on giving your children big names, aren't you?" Janeway said, catching the Doctor's eye and winking.

"They'll grow into them in time," dead-panned the Doctor. He finished running his medical tri-corder over Harry and continued, "Both Mister Paris, Ensign Kim and their children are in excellent health. However, given the nature of the pregnancies and the fact that the fathers, in this case, are also the mothers, I'd like to keep all four of them in Sickbay for the week."

The Captain nodded, and was about to reply when her comm-badge chirped.

"Chakotay to the Captain."

"Janeway here."

"Sorry to interrupt, Captain, but you're needed on the bridge."

"Is something wrong?"

"It's nothing serious, Captain, just something that needs your personal attention."

"On my way. Janeway out."

She walked to the door, stopped, turned, and said, "Congratulations, gentlemen. I'll note the date and time of their births, and the names of your children, in my logs. I'm sure everyone on the ship will be in to see you in due course but, until then, rest up. You're both on maternity leave until further notice."

"Thank you, Captain," Tom and Harry chorused in unison.

---
One Week Later. . .

Tom, carrying a well wrapped up Imogene in the crook of his arm, and Harry, carrying an equally well wrapped up Alexander the same way, stopped just in front of the mess hall.

"Are you ready?" Tom asked his lover.

Harry took a deep breath and nodded, saying, "It can't be any harder than when the crew found out we were pregnant."

Tom held out his free hand and Harry took it. "Let's go then," he said.

The mess hall doors swished open and they entered to thunderous applause. The Captain, formally attired in her dress uniform, her auburn hair loose around her shoulders, stood in front of the windows.

The tables and chairs had been shifted to either side of the room and it smelled sweet from the bunches of flowers that had been placed around it. Bright fabric was draped around the walls. One table against the far right wall was stacked high with brightly wrapped packages. In front of the Captain, to either side of her, stood B'Elanna and Chakotay.

Tom and Harry walked calmly towards the Captain, who held up her hands for silence. When the pair were standing in front of her, B'Elanna moved to Harry's side and Chakotay took up position next to Tom.

"Since the days of the first wooden sailing ships all Captains have had the pleasure, and the right, to join two people in matrimony. Today, these two lovers," Janeway gestured to Tom and Harry, "wish to make their union official."

"Tom? Harry?" She looked at each in turn. "You have prepared your vows?"

"Yes, Captain," Tom replied aloud as Harry nodded.

"Tom," Janeway nodded to him, "You may proceed."

Tom turned and gently placed Imogene in Chakotay's arms, whilst Harry carefully passed Alexander to B'Elanna. The pair of former Maquis were instantly smitten, and both cuddled and cooed to the babies whilst the ceremony began.

Turning to Harry, Tom grasped his lover's hands and began:

"Harry, I'm not very good with words, and maybe that's why I find it so hard to tell you how much I love you in flowery language. So, I won't even make the attempt. I will just say that I love you, Harry, with all my heart, and I want us to be together until the end of our days. I will never love anyone but you. I will care for you when you're sick, laugh with you when you're happy, cry with you when you're sad and make love with you when you're well. I belong to you Harry, now and for always."

So saying, Tom slipped a heavy gold band onto Harry's finger and kissed his hand.

Janeway looked at Harry, and nodded, saying, "You may proceed."

Harry began hesitantly: "I had a speech all worked out, but now it's gone right out of my head."

There was quiet laughter from the crowd.

Harry took a deep breath and continued, "Tom, you are the most important thing in my life. I loved you even before we met and I will love you for eternity. I will always be there for you, in sickness and heath, in happiness and sorrow, for better or for worse. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days with you. I will never love another. I belong to you, Tom, now and for always."

Harry slipped an equally heavy silver band onto Tom's finger and kissed his hand.

"Gentlemen," Janeway continued, "Having exchanged rings and vows, and having declared your love before witnesses, it is my honour to pronounce you wed. May your days be filled with happiness."

Turning to face each other, their lips met and they kissed passionately to the cheers and whistles of an appreciative crowd.

After fifteen minutes steady kissing, Janeway coughed discreetly and said calmly, "Gentlemen When you're ready."

The lovers broke apart, grinning at each other and blushing as they gasped for breath. Tom winked at Harry as he turned to Chakotay, who gently placed Imogene in his arms. Harry carefully took Alexander from B'Elanna, and they both turned to face the Captain.

"Now," the Captain pronounced, "Tom and Harry would like to announce their children to you."

Tom held up his child and declared, "This is our daughter, Imogene Kylie Kim. We wish her to be known so for the rest of her days." He placed her in Chakotay's arms, saying, "This is her godfather, Chakotay. Chakotay, do you recognise her?"

Chakotay took the child and held her up, saying, "This is Imogene Kylie Kim, my god-daughter. I recognise her."

Chakotay smiled down at his new goddaughter for a moment, before gently handing her back to Tom, who cuddled her. She was fretting a little from all the loud noise and the unaccustomed attention focused on her.

Harry held up his child and declared, "This is our son, Alexander Reuben Paris. We wish him to be known so for the rest of his days." He gave him to B'Elanna, saying, "This is his godmother, B'Elanna Torres. B'Elanna, do you recognise him?"

B'Elanna, with the glimmer of tears sparkling in her eyes, took the child and carefully held him up, declaring loudly, and with enough menace in her voice to make anyone thinking of disagreeing change their minds, "This is Alexander Reuben Paris, my godson. I recognise him."

After cuddling him for a minute or so, she passed him back to Harry, who took him and settled him back into the crook of his arm.

Then, Tom and Harry held up their children. Tom went first, saying, "This is our daughter, Imogene Kylie Kim. We wish her to be known so for the rest of her days." He very carefully placed Imogene in the crook of Janeway's left arm, saying, "This is her godmother, Kathryn Janeway. Kathryn, do you recognise her?"

Before Janeway could answer, Harry held up Alexander, saying, "This is our son, Alexander Reuben Paris. We wish him to be known so for the rest of his days."

He gently placed Alexander in the crook of Janeway's right arm, saying, "This is his other godmother, Kathryn Janeway. Kathryn, do you recognise her?"

Janeway, her eyes filling with tears, blinked a few times and then replied, her voice throbbing with emotion, "These are my godchildren, Imogene Kylie Kim and Alexander Reuben Paris. I recognise them."

Harry and Tom looked at each other and grinned. They hadn't told their Captain she was to be godmother to their children, and the look on her face was worth the effort of keeping it secret.

Recovering her composure, she carefully returned her new godchildren back to their respective parents and then declared, "The ceremony is complete."

Then she relaxed a little and said, "Tom would like to say something on behalf of his husband and himself."

Tom turned and faced the crowd of people gathered in the mess hall. "Harry and I would like to thank the Doctor for all his hard work on our behalf, and for caring. Doc', you may be a pain in the butt sometimes, but you've been great to us and our babies and we appreciate it."

There were more cheers and whistles as the Doctor came forward and received a hug from both Tom and Harry.

"We'd also like to thank," Tom began, waiting until the noise died down, "B'Elanna and Commander Chakotay for standing up for us, and Captain Janeway for marrying us. Thanks also to all the crew of Voyager, our family, for supporting us. Rest assured, we'll be calling on all of you to baby-sit."

There was laughter, applause, and more cheering as Tom and Harry made their way to the generous buffet that Neelix had set up. Then the noise gradually died down as everyone began to mingle, chatting about this and that as the party got into full swing.

Tom shooed Harry to a chair, while he got a plate for them both. It wasn't easy with Imogene still tucked in the crook of his arm, but he managed. He carried the plate over to Harry, sat down next to him, and they both attacked the food hungrily.

"Hello, babies," said a voice.

Tom and Harry looked up from their food to see Naomi Wildman staring down at Imogene and Alexander. She was totally ignoring them, and staring so hard at the babies that she didn't notice they were watching her.

"I'm older than you, babies, so when I grow up more and become an ensign, one of you will have to be the Captain's assistant. It's a very important job. You have to be on duty all the time. You have know all about Voyager and all about aliens and you have to do everything you're told as quickly as you can. The Captain relies on you a lot, so you have to be ready for anything. Okay, babies?"

She smiled and continued, "Don't worry, though. I'll teach you everything you need to know. It's a good job, you'll see."

She flipped her hand at them and ordered, "As you were," before heading off to the buffet table where her mother was deep in conversation with Neelix.

Tom look at Harry and grinned. "I can see this whole ship, down to our youngest crew member, has their futures mapped out."

"Yes,' Harry agreed, grinning back. "It's too bad, isn't it?"

"Yes." Tom leaned over and kissed Harry on the forehead. "I love you, babe. Forever."

"Forever," Harry sighed in contentment.

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Author's Note: The baby's names were chosen for specific reasons, so I guess I'd better tell you them before you flame me for giving them such extravagant monikers. First, Imogene Kylie Kim. 'Imogene' is Celtic and Latin (the name arose in both languages) and means 'girl or daughter' in Celtic and 'image' in Latin. 'Kylie' is in honour of my friend Kylie, who is mentioned in the dedication, and 'Kim' should be obvious.

Second, Alexander Reuben Paris. 'Alexander' is Greek and means 'helper of men', which little Xander will be if he takes after Harry (I can't say, 'his father', because how would you know which one I mean?) who would do anything to protect Voyager, it's crew, and Tom (see, "The Chute" and "The Killing Game" pts 1 and 2). 'Reuben' is Hebrew and means 'behold a son' and 'Paris' should be as obvious as 'Kim'.

Okay?

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End