The BLTS Archive- Life's Challenges
by Bridget Cochran (bjcochran@aol.com)

---

© 1998

Disclaimer:  I own the ideas, Paramount owns the rest.  Archive at
will.

---

Tom roared off the lift and toward the crew quarters on Deck 6.  He
keyed the chime at his destination.  Keyed it again.  "Computer,
security override.  Paris Chi 4-7-1-2 Rho."

The door slid open revealing a darkened cabin.  The hair went up on
Tom's neck.  He knew he should call for some kind of back up, but he
had no clue who would show up and he didn't want to take any chances.

Right now, the wrong person on the scene could set off a bomb.  A bomb
Tom could swear he felt ticking.  He stepped into the dark room.

He was clasped from behind, and vaguely heard the door hiss shut
behind the attacker.  He was pulled backwards down to the level of his
assailant.  Marveling at the strength of someone so small, he grasped
the elbows and dropped to his knees, pulling the body up over his head
and flipped the small woman onto her back.  For the moment she lay
there stunned and winded, Tom pressed his advantage and covered her
body with his.

The struggle ceased immediately.

"And I thought you'd come to take me to the brig."  He heard the purr,
and could imagine the smirk.  She began to grind her hips to his.  He
began to grind his teeth.

"God damn it, Kate,"  he growled, "stop it."

She didn't immediately, she merely slowed her grind from lewd to
seductive.  "Isn't this why you're here?"  Her small, rough hands
worked their way under his shirt to skim the warm skin of his back.

He groaned, reaching around for the seeking hands to wrench them to
her sides.  Shit, he wished she'd just stop moving.  But she didn't.
When he finally stilled her hands, he lay his forehead on the floor
beside her head.

"Kate, you are **not** going to distract me with sex."

"Your prick doesn't agree with you," she murmured into his ear.  Her
breath was hot, but Tom could smell the alcohol.

He lay there, dead weight on top of the older woman, determined not to
give in to her, and the blatant attempt to distract him with her body.

Kathryn Janeway was the hardest woman Tom Paris had ever met.  She was
mean, and clever, and sometimes the look in her eye chilled him to the
bone.  He didn't even think about crossing her.

But she could also be as loyal and steadfast as a Vulcan.

What was she up to now?

"I could have you screaming in five minutes."  Her tongue was touching
the part of his face she could reach.

"Christ," he breathed, allowing his face to brush hers as he rolled
off.  "It wouldn't take five minutes," he sighed, aware of what he was
admitting.

The darkness hid Janeway's reaction to Tom's words.  For one split
second, she wished he meant it.  She wished he wanted her, really
wanted **her**--not just the service she was offering.  His stubble
rough face left a tingle on her cheek.

But he had to get out of here.  She was expecting someone.

"You wanted something?"  she snaked her hand under his shirt, this
time skimming skillful fingers over the soft fuzz of hair coating his
abdomen.

"Lights one quarter,"  Tom said as he sat up.  Janeway gave an
exaggerated sigh as she did the same, turning half away, her profile
to him.

He studied the profile, as he'd done so often since this Delta
Quadrant nightmare began.  Her reddish brown hair was shorn pretty
close to her head, except for a cowlicky outcrop barbing her forehead,
her jaw was hard, tiny crows feet creased her eyes--this one, at
least.  He rarely saw the other side of her face.

Because of the scar.  It was a jagged, pink line that zig-zagged from
the bridge of her nose, nearly to her ear.  It was a reminder of her
downfall, and their common bond.

She'd kept it.  A lot of Maquis kept scars--sometimes they were heroic
symbols.  Sometimes dermal regenerators were few and far between.  But
as far as Kathryn Janeway was concerned, it was a reminder of her
shame.  Tom often thought of it as the well spring of her anger.

"You've been siphoning rations again," he said, quietly.  The anger
he'd arrived with had dissipated somewhat, along with his arousal.

"You're pretty good," she allowed.  "Thought it would be a little
harder than last time."

"It was," he conceded, "took me an hour longer to find it."

She nodded, that hard smile twisting onto her face.  "Good."  She was
distracting him from things that could get him hurt.

"I've stripped and closed your account," he said, bracing for her
reaction.

Her head whipped around, eyes flashing, nostrils flaring.  She stopped
herself short of lunging for his throat.  "What the hell did you do
that for?"  She turned away with an angry jerk of her head.

He swallowed, her quick temper always threw him for a minute.  "To cut
you off--B'Elanna's blowing an artery.  You created so many
unauthorized interface routes that the neural gel packs were taking
forever to process commands."

"Poor baby."

He knew didn't think much of the hot headed Torres.  That she was too
young to have so much power.  But at least she was loyal to Chakotay's
goal of getting this heap back to the Alpha Quadrant in one piece.

"Damn it, Kate.  We're **trying** to work together here."

God damn it, she knew that.  What she was doing, she was doing for
everybody.  "Uh-huh."

This woman was impossible.  Frustration mounting, he ran a hand
through his blond hair, only a little shorter than Kate's.  "Look," he
said, "the Captain said 'no rations'.  He's pretty pissed because I
didn't tell him about the last time."

She pursed her lips to forestall the smile at his words.  "What about
the time before that?"

Tom closed his eyes.  "I didn't tell him about the time before."

"No?"

"No.  First officer's prerogative."

"Uh-huh."  Sarcasm dribbled from her lips.

How do I keep from strangling her?  He had given her a warning the
first time he caught her siphoning rations from the computer.  She'd
offered him a blow job to forget about it.  He'd politely declined,
she did a faux pout that didn't become her--and he scheduled her to
two duty shifts in sick bay, training in exo-virological research.  If
they were traveling like Maquis, they'd better have something
marketable to trade.

That was the brief moment of satisfaction he found in his turbulent
relationship with the former Starfleet, former Maquis Kathryn Janeway.
Her eyes briefly caught with the fire of curiosity.  Only to be doused
by the suspicion that usually clouded her face.

She and the doctor fought like cats for supremacy, until she
deactivated him.  When he was reactivated, his nose was where his
penis should have been, and his penis was….

The next time he caught her sucking rations, she spent a week in waste
recycling.

"So, how is Tonto punishing you for keeping my secret?" she smirked.

"I'm here now."  He braced for impact.

But, she didn't move, didn't come at him in a body tackle.  Instead,
she dipped her head, raised her chin and swallowed.  Tom cocked his
head.  She'd done that before.  But, when?  Tom frowned and let it
pass.

"How long?"  she asked.

"Your rations are cut 60 days."

"Son-of-a-bitch."

Tom heaved himself up from the floor and offered a hand up, which was
ignored as she moved lithely to her feet.  "You know the way out," she
said and turned her back on him.

He did.  Tom leaned against the wall in the turbolift and scrubbed his
face with his hands.  Mental jousting with Kate Janeway was
exhausting.  Add a little martial arts and sexual tension, and he was
worn out.

Christ, this woman was harder than B'Elanna and Seska combined, and
Tom had such a headache from dealing with her.  His father told him
there would be days like this.

But his father had also told him about Kathryn Janeway, and what a
smart, aggressive officer she was going to be.  How it was her and Tom
that were going to shape the future of Starfleet.

He left the lift and keyed into his quarters, still thinking about his
dad and Kate Janeway.  And the Cardassians.

His dad had wept when he told the story.  Tom was disgusted, and
riveted.  Kate and his dad had been captured and imprisoned.  Owen
Paris had protested vigorously when they came for Kathryn, an ensign
fresh from the Academy.  She didn't know anything of value.

Tom undressed and tossed his delta onto the night table.

'She doesn't know anything,' the Admiral had protested.  The scaly
bastard just smiled and said, 'I know.'  They raped her for hours.
His father was forced to listen of every minute of every blood
curdling scream and plea for mercy.

Tom sat in the bathroom with his father when he had returned from the
mission, holding a wet cloth and a glass of water while his dad
retched into the toilet after describing the genital, anal and rectal
reconstruction that Kathryn had gone through.  Tom nearly lost it
himself, but he didn't have the visual images his dad was stuck with.

The former Starfleet Lieutenant Commander stretched out in bed and
laced his fingers under his neck.  The shit really hit the fan for
Kate during her six months post trauma leave.  Her father was killed
by Cardassians.

That was when she snapped. Resigned Starfleet.  Left Earth.  Joined
the Maquis and never looked back.  Fought hard and well, but drank
anything short of warp plasma.  A loose cannon with a wild temper.  A
resourceful guerilla for years.  Until she got ring fever and landed
on the bottom of the barrel.

That's where Chakotay met her, at the bottom of the barrel.  Selling
dated technology scavenged to be retrofitted by her into any vehicle
for rock bottom prices.  He figured out she was ex-Starfleet when he
and B'Elanna bargained with her for some equipment.  His engineer
could use the help of someone who could make something from nothing.
Seska didn't like her on sight, which bothered Kate little.

Didn't matter much, Kate ratted them out to the Feds, and was sent to
jail on a technicality.  That's what Chakotay said.  Tom didn't know
if he totally believed that side of the story.  Sometimes, not often,
he saw the Kate his father used to see.

---

Always careful, Seska had checked the cabin's occupants before she
keyed the chime.  "What did the Star Scout want?"

Janeway looked at her straight on.  "To cut off my rations."  She
moved to the bathroom for a glass of water.  "Sorry, I can't offer you
anything, I'm locked out of the replicator protocols."

"That could be a problem."  Seska had followed her and stood in the
doorway.  Arms folded.

"I doubt it," she said and drank deeply.  "I'll just cause a
disturbance somewhere else."

"Aren't you worried about what they'll do to you if they catch you?"
Seska wanted to know.

Janeway set the glass down and looked at the bitch squarely.  "What
could these Starfleet bleeding hearts do to me that's worse than what
the Cardassians did to me?"

Seska shrugged and moved toward the bed.  "Let's get undressed."

"Not tonight."  And never again.  Janeway moved back into the room.

Seska wasn't perturbed.  "Then I'll do you."

"No."  She moved through the small room into the day room.  "If I
don't give, I don't get.  Observation Lounge on Deck 9 tomorrow at
2330.  I'll have your communications meshed by then."

Seska nodded, back to business, and left.

Janeway visibly sagged.  What a God damned, miserable night.  She
stripped as she headed for the bathroom and a shower.

She screamed invectives in several languages when she called for a
water shower and was told, "Ration account is closed" and the sonic
heads engaged.  The things she wouldn't put up with to keep these
ingrates headed toward the Alpha Quadrant.

---

Kathryn Janeway didn't sleep much.  Hadn't for years.  You lost
control asleep and Kate didn't like to be out of control.

Seska was an irritating bitch; but, Tom Paris, he was a whole other
kettle of fish.

Must be a tough job, being the Starfleet first officer on a Maquis-run
Starfleet Starship in the Delta Quadrant.  Fucking irony.  Federation
gets her out of jail to be stranded at the ends of the galaxy on the
Voyage of the Damned.

Then that bastard, Captain Cosovo, gets himself killed, along with
Tuvok, the Vulcan, and Chakotay gets stuck with the ship.  The Maquis
leader didn't like it much, but he was the only one capable of
unifying the two groups to a common purpose.

Her brittle laugh bounced around her empty room.  More fucking irony.
Captain Chakotay of the Starship Voyager.  He was trying to run it by
the book since there were more Starfleet in the crew than Maquis.  And
since **he** was more Starfleet than Maquis.  But they were rebels,
farmers, kids and were not content to goose step to Starfleet's rules.
Seska, Suder, Jonas--those creeps weren't satisfied with the way
things were going.  They couldn't care less about order, all they
wanted was acquisition.

Simple, naïve Chakotay no longer had a real cause to fight for.  Oh,
he had a mission:  get them back to the Alpha Quadrant.  The obstacles
were immense, not the least of which were right here within the hull
of this forsaken ship.

Janeway threw off the thin Fleet issue blanket and climbed back into
her baggy fatigues.  She didn't bother with shoes or to pull anything
over her undershirt as she sat at her computer outlet to hack into the
mainframe.  It took her an hour and a half, but she downloaded 90% of
the crew's rations into Tom Paris's account.  He just might think it
was funny.

If he didn't, well, she doubted he could devise a punishment that she
couldn't take.  Starfleet were amateurs in behavior adjustment.  She
could take anything humanitarians like Chakotay or Paris could dish
out.

Paris.  Christ, he was young enough to be her--little brother.  He was
a natural leader, fair, honest.  He had a decisiveness she recognized
from her service with his father.  Except Tom had a better sense of
humor.  And was much better looking.

Which would never matter.  Janeway ran her fingers through the hair
that sprang at her forehead.  She propped her head on those fingers.
He was a thorn in her side.  Always on her to be better, gentler, a
team player.  Then he would look at her with compassion.  Pity.  She
swore softly.  She hated pity.  She wasn't pitiful.  She was strong
and she had adapted.

These ruminations were stupid, and she was hungry.  With rations on
lock-out, she'd have to go to the mess.  Pulling on a sweater worthy
of a Pakled freight hauler, she grabbed a padd of computer schematics
and headed toward food, hoping that little toad, Neelix, wouldn't be
there.

"Cheerful bastard," she muttered as she entered the deserted hall.  A
light glowed at the service window.  Golden fruit sat in a bowl, a
spice cake she knew to be ghastly sat under a glass dome.

She chose the cold equivalent of soy milk and two of the conical
golden fruits, sitting  at a table near the door.  Padd in one hand,
glass of milk in the other, she was surprised to hear the door hiss
aside; surprise she kept from her face.  Her stomach knotted and
hackles rose, but she relaxed instantly when her nemesis, Tom Paris,
walked through the door.

Seeing the ire and the flush that was plain even in this dim room, she
turned her lips up, sure her eyes had sparked.

"What brings you here, Mr. Paris?"  As if she didn't know.  She
averted her face as she always did, but not so much that he still
couldn't see her smile.  If that's what you would call it.

He sat down across from her, aware that she would have to turn her
head away.  He knew he shouldn't be so perverse, but sometimes his
good nature disappeared when he was angry.

He gave a huff of frustration.  Nothing he could say or do would
change Kate--he couldn't take anything more away from her:  she had no
rations, and nobody really had any privileges.

"I'm going to need your help to get the rations back into everybody's
account."

"Why would I help you?"  Her eyes stayed on the viewport.  She added
gall to his list of good qualities.

"Because I'm asking you to," he said softly.  That soft voice put her
stomach into another knot.  She had to protect this sweet little boy
from Seska--she had to protect them all, but she couldn't subvert
Seska, Suder, Jonas and the sundry others by herself.  She'd be killed
before she'd get far enough to do any good.  There was **much** more
to do than sort through ration accounts.

Tom said nothing, but quietly examined the hard profile in the dim
light.  He didn't know why he was being treated to the cascade of
emotions barreling across her face. The iron matron showed nobody
anything, except her contempt.  Tom, though, saw them all.
Irritation, anger; sure they were there.  But uncertainty and fear
showed plainly on the side of her face he could see.  She raised her
chin again, and he saw the resolve etch itself firmly on her jaw.

She rose from the table and sat on his lap before he could comprehend
her actions.  Reflexively, his arms moved around her.  But he wrested
them back to the table, hand clenched into fists.  "What do you think
you're doing?" he muttered as she dipped her head to his neck.

"Have I ever lied to you?" she breathed against him, her fingers
rifled the hair at the back of his head.

"Continuously."  He felt her sigh more than heard it.

"With malicious intent,"  she clarified.

True, her lies had been more irritating than hurtful.  Sometimes the
lies had led to small improvements in ship's systems.  "Never," he
admitted, gritting his teeth when she licked his neck with the flat of
her tongue.  She **had** to feel his erection on her butt.

"What are you doing?" he repeated.

"We're in trouble."  Her whisper sounded like a claxon to his ear.

"Trouble?"

"There's a mutiny in the works and I can't stop it if you won't leave
me alone."

Tom snorted at the preposterous thought, which turned into a pained
gasp when Kate ground her bottom into the erection she **was** aware
of.  "This is serious, Mr. Paris."  She wanted to bite his ear in
frustration.

"You just want to fuck me."  His hard words stopped her cold.

"There is that," she purred, exploring the fabric that covered his
back.  "There's also the fact that Seska's not Bajoran."  She rested
her chin on his shoulder.

Tom was readjusting Kate's backside so she couldn't render any
permanent damage.  She was very aware that his hands remained on the
curve of her butt.  "Not Bajoran?"

"She's Cardassian."

"What?"

Kate held his head so he couldn't rear back.  "Be quiet," she groaned.
"You have to play along better than this."  She fastened her lips to
his and didn't let him go.  "Kiss me, damn you," she said against his
teeth.  "Please."  But it sounded like an order.

Well, this is different.  He kissed her with a shrug.  She kissed him
with all the desperation that was welling up inside her.  "I learned a
lot when you sentenced me to sick bay."

She punctuated each word with a kiss.  Now Tom rested his head on
Kate's shoulder, breathing heavily, trying to maintain some control.
"You did?"

"Touch me," she ordered.  His hands moved from her buttocks under the
clunky, ugly shirt she wore.  "Her medical records were odd.  Her
blood shows no Bajoran factors, only Cardassian."  She was stretching
the collar of his shirt in order to graze his collar bone with her
teeth.  "Did a little research.  Pissed Doc Hologram off.  That's when
I deactivated him."

Her hands were under his shirt now, fingernails scored his back.  "And
you left your mark," Tom said as he arched under the stinging
pressure.

"I also left the evidence within his subroutines."

"We gotta get out of here," Tom pushed Kate to her feet, grabbing her
hand to pull her from the mess hall into the lift.  She barely had
enough time to grab her padd and stay fused to him.

He bent his head to her ear, "The lift's bugged?"

"Of course."  Her tone told him it was a stupid question.  On Deck 4,
they tumbled out of the lift and to the First Officer's quarters.  She
didn't bother to look around; cabins meant nothing more to her than a
bed and a wash room.

They began divesting each other of clothes, murmuring, groaning,
disguising their conversation.

"Retrieve the information from the doctor by saying 'the moons of
Carstairs 4 are colliding'."  She unhooked Tom's trousers, pushing
them over his hips.

"Who's with Seska?"  He slid the ugly pullover over her head.

"Suder and Jonas."  His briefs went next.  She hit her knees to help
him out of his socks; she was not going to have sex with a man wearing
socks.  She had some standards.  Her forehead brushed the tip of his
erection and he gasped.  It bobbed from under the tail of his
tee-shirt.

She stood, fingers brushing the sensitive shaft in a provocative way.
"My pants," she prompted as she raised her lips to his.  His hands
obeyed.

"Jonas is compromising the dilithium matrix.  Slowly, so no one
catches it.  I've been monitoring the progress."

The fatigues hit the floor.  Tom's thumbs were hooked into her
underpants when he hesitated.  Kate looked up into his eyes, and saw
the doubt he felt at this pretense.  He didn't know if he wanted to go
through with this.  She grabbed his arousal before it could shrink and
began to firmly skim her thumb over the glans.  His jaw set and he
began to push the serviceable underwear down.

Kate had no illusions.  The kid was just doing this to get
information--the physical part was a necessary evil.

"Suder is rallying the Maquis."

"That shouldn't be too hard."

"It isn't."  She pushed at Tom's shirt, indicating he should remove
it.  He peeled it off.  Then hers.  They were naked.

She was beautiful.  Her white skin glistened with sweat in the glow of
a table lamp.  He could see scars, small and large, on her flesh and
wanted to touch each of them, kiss them, but he shook himself.  This
was business.

Business.  Christ, that was a laugh.  He pushed her onto his unmade
bed.  "When?"  He moved to cover her body with his, his lips at her
throat.

"3 rotations, maximum," she grated as her fingers scraped their way
down the skin of his back, adding red marks to the scoring she had
already inflicted, but this time her finger nails brushed across the
softer flesh of his buttocks.  "It will take Jonas that long to mask
the necessary configurations to sabotage the warp core."

Strong fingers kneaded the flesh of his ass.  She spread her legs to
accommodate his girth, most of his weight still supported by his
elbows.  As his mouth moved to tongue the nipple of one well turned
breast, she clamped her legs around his and pushed him up toward her
waiting sex.

His breathing changed.  "We have to stop talking.  I can't concentrate
on a word you're saying."

She smiled up at him though he could barely make it out.  "Whatever
you say, Commander."  She pulled his head down to hers until her lips
engulfed his.  The arches of her feet moved along his calves--slowly
easing up and down as she adjusted her body to receive his--now she
would give over some control.

His hands spanned her ribcage, resting a finger between each rib.  One
hand moved across the cage and down to her stomach until his fingers
combed through her curls.  The gentle pressure of his thumb on the
swollen center of nerve endings, Kate leapt beneath him, her breath
ragged in his ears, growing more ragged with the gentle rotation he
applied there.

She moved beneath him, totally immersed in the sensation.  His lips
moved on her neck and along her jaw as he continued the divine
pressure of his thumb.  His free hand skimmed her ribs to tilt her
hips into a more receptive position.  Slowly, slowly he began to move
into the moist heat, so wild, and smooth and welcoming that he sank
easily into the depth

"Good," he groaned and began to thrust in an ever building tempo.  He
wanted to stay wrapped in the tight channel that welcomed him so
warmly forever.  Her scent mingled with their sweat invaded every
sense, her soft grunts and hicoughing breaths were music.  A song he
never wanted to end.

But it had to end.  Her legs wrapped around the small of his back
urging him forward, even as her hips pushed for more.  Her hands were
never still, grazing his skin, leaving a path of heat on his chest,
arms and shoulders.

She arched up into him, clutching him close, strong muscles wanting to
pull him inside her to be protected and safe.

Again his skilled fingers found the sentinel that guarded her sanity;
his gentle assault was one she couldn't withstand.  "Christ, yes," she
cried, gripping his length with all her strength.

It was more than the sensitive flesh could take, Tom's shout echoed
Kate's as the sharp edge of the sword pushed him up and over, to his
release.  He surged forward again and again as the muscles in his
back, buttocks and legs clenched in reaction.

Their breathing echoed through the now quiet room.  The great gasps of
air both drew into their lungs brought mind boggling clarity.  Tom
rolled onto his back and flung an arm over his eyes.  Kate missed the
comforting weight and emanating warmth the instant it left her.

She wished for one brief moment that she was someone else and that her
life was different.  For all the latinum in the universe, she wished
he would take her in his arms and pet her. That would never happen,
but right now she'd settle for a little friendship.

This vulnerability was for the birds.  "Your reputation is well
founded."  She felt him stiffen.  That was better.  Irritation was an
emotion she could handle.

"I'm glad you appreciate it."  His voice was carved in stone,
awareness of their hidden audience seeping into his psyche.  He rolled
away and out of the bed, into the bathroom.  He tossed a warm, wet
cloth at Kathryn and headed back to his side of the bed.  Watching her
ablutions closely, he saw nothing; his mind was spinning with what to
do next.

When she had herself mopped up and had seen to the wet spot, she
looked into his clouded eyes.  "Should I leave?"

He blinked, shaking his head when the words registered.  Moving to the
middle of the bed, he tossed the cloth away and pulled her close,
ordering the lights off.  When they were sniggled under the covers, he
called for an alarm.  "You'll be safer here."

Well, this was unexpected she thought as she lay stiff in his embrace,
her backside resting in his lap.  She didn't like staying with anyone
afterwards.  In fact, she never stayed, even when she was asked.  She
didn't want to examine the inertia.  Just shut up and go to sleep, she
told herself.  It was a while before she did.

---

What was that noise?  Tom rose onto his elbows and peered toward the
soft light spilling from the bathroom.  Splashing.  Kate was in the
bathtub.  He pulled his shorts off the floor and headed toward the
sound.

Her eyes were closed, her face peaceful--and the parts of her body he
could see were beautiful.  He stood watching her, silent in his
appreciation until one blue-gray eye opened and fixed on him.  "The
water's pretty cool by now, but you're welcome to heat it up a bit."

"Uh, no thanks," he said as he rubbed his bed hair back and forth.
"You gonna be much longer?"

Janeway smiled.  Why was it that men could ejaculate into you, but
couldn't piss in front of you?  "No," she said and sat up.  Seska was
right, she thought as she watched him avert his eyes, a rosy blush
suffusing the parts of his body she could see.  What a Star Scout.
Grabbing a towel, she pushed past him to get dressed.

---

Chakotay wasn't in the best of moods when he entered Tom Paris's
office.  He'd been comming his exec for fifteen minutes, wondering why
he hadn't showed up for their meeting.  The computer informed him that
Lt. Commander Paris was not to be disturbed.

Well, Chakotay was disturbed, and soon Mr. Paris would be, too.

The Maquis Captain's mood disintegrated when he saw Kate Janeway
hovering over Tom's shoulder at the desk.  Tom looked up, a finger to
his lips.

"I'm sorry, Captain, I forgot our meeting."  His blue eyes were deadly
serious as he motioned the older man closer with a padd.  "Kate
downloaded all the crew rations into my account and we've been trying
to get it all sorted out.

The dark jaw set at the mention of Kate's name.  The two didn't miss
the flare in the dark eyes.  He accepted the padd from his first
officer.

"Seska is Cardassian, surgically altered to resemble a Bajoran."  He
read and his head shot up.  Tom's finger was in front of his lips
again.

"What's the status of the rations, Paris?"

"It's gonna take a while.  Kate has the return paths twisting all
through the system."  Tom was shaking his head to negate his words.
"You want to take a look?"

Chakotay spent a few minutes running down the salient points of the
coming insurrection, including the fact that every room, corridor,
alcove and head was at least aurally bugged.  Spirits be damned, he
thought.  'Can we trust her?'  he thumbed into the padd he handed to
Tom.  "Did you try this?" he said aloud.

The younger man's eyes narrowed as he read.  Janeway curled her lip,
but stayed silent; it did no good to get pissed off at Chakotay.  If
he was too stupid not to accept her help, it was his problem.  "Yes.
It's where we started."

"Alright," Chakotay said, pulling up a chair.  "What do I do to get
this done faster?"

Visibly relieved, Tom cast a quick glance at the tightlipped Kate,
"You want to show him what we've already done?"

For the next fifteen minutes the three unlikely compatriots, using
little or no verbal communication, worked feverishly to devise a plan
of action.

"Okay," Chakotay said at last, "B'Elanna has to know about the
temporary rerouting.  How long will you need to restore the rations?"
And place a tracker on Jonas's engineering activity.

"Ten minutes," Kate said.  A smug smile settled on her face.

His eyes narrowed.  "Paris, you dog her every step of the way."
Chakotay knew his Mata Hari would understand his meaning, even if
Seska was hearing a different message.

Chakotay stared at Janeway and wondered why she had just placed
herself in more danger than he was himself.  He looked at Paris to
make sure the younger man understood that in addition to his ship's
duties, he was also saddled with this irritating woman.

Absently, he stood and rubbed his brush head, remembering that Kate
had called him 'porcupine head' more than once.  Oh, never to his
face, but it had gotten back to him through Seska.

Seska.  A name  that now made his blood boil.  "Give me twenty minutes
to brief B'Elanna.  And calm her down."  He paused at the door.
"Steer clear of engineering until I comm you."

"Aye, sir."

Chakotay took a measuring look at the room's two occupants and headed
out, padd gripped in his blunt fingers, to the unenviable task of
briefing B'Elanna.

---

After Tom was asleep, Kate slipped from the bed and dressed, watching
for movement from the bed.  She slipped the communicator from her
sweater before heading out the door.  If she didn't meet Seska, she
might as well just forfeit her life.  The plans would fold for awhile
and that pig would become even more pernicious.

She moved through the quiet corridor to the lift only to find herself
hurled against the wall, her head bouncing on the hard surface.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"  Tom hissed.

"I have an appointment."  She pawed her bruised head, lip curling.

"What the hell kind of game is this?  Screw and run?"  Who are you
meeting?  hung unsaid.

Kate's chin came up.  "I'm meeting my other lover."  The challenge was
in her eyes.  What would he make out of this?

The younger man studied her, holding her head between his hands.  She
couldn't divert her face from the intense scrutiny as he tried to sort
through what she was saying, and not saying.  "Seska?" he breathed.

This kid was good.  Janeway sighed, relief plain on her face.  Tom
grabbed her shoulders, and shook her once, gently but firmly.  "Tell
her you're through.  I'm not gonna share."

Kate shut her eyes on a sigh.  What an actor.  "Tom--," she began.
She was a pretty good actor, too.  "I mean it, I'm not sharing.  You
have twenty minutes before I come to get you."

Smooth.  Whoever was listening knew there wouldn't be much time for
their clandestine meeting.  Tom pressed her comm badge onto her
sweater.

---

"You're moving up in the world," Seska turned from the view port, a
smirk quirking her face.

"That's a matter of opinion."  Kate took a few steps into the room.

"You got cozy pretty fast."  Seska moved away from the star vista to
sprawl on one of the lounges the room offered.  "You reject my offer
and a few hours later, you're screwing the enemy."

"Listen, Seska," Janeway's ire was not manufactured, it was all she
could do not to crush the bitch's wind pipe with her thumbs, but it
would take a duranium spike to crush a Cardassian wind pipe.  "The kid
was getting too close.  He had to be distracted.  At that age, there's
one sure-fire way to distract a human male."

"You were awful cozy with him all day."

Janeway sighed.  "My plan backfired."  She sprawled on the other
lounge.  "I just wanted to distract the little twit.  Now Chakotay has
him stuck to my butt like glue."

"Glue?"  Seska's mouth twisted.

Janeway ignored the remark.  "I don't know what I can do to help you
now with this shadow following me everywhere."  She rubbed her brow,
trying to sound concerned.

"Doesn't matter," Seska said.  "We're close enough, we can move on
without you."

The human nodded, and Seska stood to end the meeting.  "How about a
kiss good-bye.  We **are** supposed to be breaking up," she purred in
confirmation of the audio surveillance.

Kate stood toe-to-toe with Seska, shaking her head.  "I hardly think
so."

Whisking by her, Seska said, "Too bad.  I'll keep you posted."

---

Of course, Seska lied:  Kate was out of the loop.

Tom and Kate were inseparable for the next few rotations; it was safer
that way.  Chakotay never had such an unlikely shadow, but it was
safer for all three to travel in a clump.

Harry and B'Elanna immediately installed an interference scramble into
the aud-vid links to Tom's quarters and Chakotay's ready room.  It
didn't take long for Michael Jonas to come along and try to reinstate
the link.  From engineering.  B'Elanna was so angry she nearly
confronted him then.  With her fists.  Then her human self-restraint
exerted itself and she reported the incident to Chakotay.

As long as the command boys tolerated her on the bridge, Kate was
there to stay.  But after the third day, she was ready to take a turn
at the helm.  Something Tom wouldn't give up without a fight.

"Tom, you need someone with combat flight experience to relieve you."
She stood on the deck, hands on hips, feet braced apart, the glare of
fight in her eyes.

"You haven't had a Delta Cert in over ten years.  Fleet vessels have
changed a lot in that time."

"Warp drive's the same,' she argued.  "They've just moved the key pad
around."

"That's a little simplistic."  Tom folded his arms in front of him.

Christ, she hated when he got condescending about flying.  Hot shot
son-of-a-bitch.  "Flying is flying.  You learn the controls, maintain
awareness of quantum physics and vector geometry, and you engage the
engines."

"There's a little more to it than that."

"Not much."

Even though this little pissing contest had gone some ways to reduce
the oppressive tension on the bridge, Chakotay was compelled to
intervene.  He flicked an eye to Ayala at tactical and Harry at ops,
aware of their avid expressions.  "Let her fly the ship, Tom," he
broke softly into the battle of wills.  He shrugged into the narrowed
eyes of her exec, "I'll take responsibility."

Knowing that morale would not be served by a smirk of triumph, Kate
eased into the helm, a bland mask carefully in place.

Chakotay felt Tom's hard stare for a long moment before the younger
man eased into the seat beside him.  The Captain knew they would be
discussing it later.  Tom always wanted to discuss things.  Later.  He
rubbed a knuckle over an eyebrow.

The older man knew this was do or die time.  Three rotations, Kate had
said--they were well into the third.  Everything she had indicated
would happen, happened.

The thought was barely done , when Janeway called out, "Warp engines
are off-line."

Chakotay and Tom were on their feet and on the way to the helm, when
the lift doors opened to expel Suder, Seska and Dalby wielding
disruptors the size of compression rifles.

Pulling a phaser from the back of his waist band, Tom raised it to
Seska.  But Suder already had his weapon trained on the first officer.
Kate saw the feral look in the Betazoid's eye and moved between the
disruptor and Tom a moment before the obscene surging of energy sliced
through her shoulder.

Ayala cut down Suder from behind, as Harry nailed Dalby with a phaser
on heavy stun.  Two down and one to go.

But Seska had her disruptor under Chakotay's chin.  Kate shook her
head to dispel the haze of pain.  The three had discussed exactly this
situation at length in the last three days.  Kate coughed to clear the
rising bile.  "Seska, this isn't going to work."

"Of course, it is.  Give me the ship, or I'll kill Chakotay."

Tom knelt by Kate, blood from the wound rolling between his fingers.
"You're going to kill him anyway," he said as his eyes flicked over
Harry and Ayala.  He was aware of everything in the room at once, but
the loudest sound in his head came from Kate's labored breath.  He
looked back at Seska and shrugged.  "Go ahead and drop him, then we'll
drop you."

In that instant, Chakotay felt the faltering of determination that Tom
saw in Seska's eyes and he went limp.  The surprised mutineer lost her
grip on the Captain as he hit the deck and rolled.  Three phasers
fired, converging on her position with stunning energy.

"Torres to Chakotay."

"Chakotay, here."

"That son-of-a-bitch, Jonas is down here bleeding--the damn warp drive
is off-line.  Impulse is jumping in and out.  What happened up there?
Weren't we supposed to have the upper hand here?"

"We've been a little busy, B'Elanna," Chakotay rolled to his feet and
moved over to Tom's side.  Harry was already beside Kate with a
med-kit.  The first officer was administering a clotting agent and a
pain killer.  "Ayala, get anyone up here you can to get this garbage
to the brig."  He put a hand on Kate's' shoulder and she turned toward
the Captain, blue eyes glazed with pain and pain killers.  "Thanks,
Kate."

"You're welcome," she whispered.  She moved her head heavily to rest
her pale cheek on Chakotay's hand.  It felt warm, and Kate felt cold,
cold and in pain.  Her shirt was starting to feel sticky.  And she was
tired, she thought as she closed her eyes for just a minute.

Chakotay sighed when she lost consciousness.  The lift doors opened
bringing  security to haul the insurgents away.  He disengaged himself
from Kate and stood.  "Attention, all hands.  This is Captain Chakotay
speaking.  Seska has not, repeat, has NOT succeeded in seizing **our**
ship.  She and three of her cohorts have been subdued.  I will deal
with them swiftly and severely.  If any crew member wants to join
Seska and her mates in the brig, they may report there now.  Captain
out."

A stunned and groggy Seska tapped her own comm badge.  "Initiate Seska
Omega 6-4-8 Psi."  She, Suder and Dalby disappeared in a transporter
glitter.

Kim grabbed his console.  "Captain, shuttlecraft Cochrane is powering
up.  There are four life signs on board.  Shuttle bay force field is
off-line.  Command protocols cannot be overridden."  Chakotay stared
at the young, frantic ensign who finally let out a sigh of frustration
as he rammed the heel of his hand into his console.  "They're gone,
sir."

Chakotay stood for a few moments with his palm on his forehead, as if
the hand was holding him upright.  Blinking back to awareness, he
turned to look down at Kate, unconscious in Tom's arms.  "Harry, can
we get a transport to sick bay?"

"Negative, Captain.  Transporters have been compromised."

With a look that frightened Harry for a minute, Chakotay slapped his
comm badge. "Captain to EMH."

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency."

"We have a disruptor wound on its way to you."

"A disruptor wound?  From what source?"

"Mutiny.  Captain out."

"Can't you carry me, Tom," came a mewling sound.  Chakotay turned to
the uncharacteristic tone and shook his head.

"You're too heavy, Kate."  That wasn't true, but he sure wasn't going
to tell her it might do damage to her already ragged shoulder.

"Maybe Chakotay can turn me into a bird."

"You **are** too heavy," Chakotay agreed and went to the command seat
throwing himself into it.  Unsteady fingers began to rub his temples.

---

Kate spent two days in sick bay having her shoulder and collar bone
regenerated.  The ball and socket had to be totally reformed, new
muscle knit, nerves and blood vessels reconstructed.  She was
unconscious through most of it.

When she was released from sick bay, she slept in Tom's quarters at
his suggestion.  She was too out of it to wonder why. The first day,
she slept around the clock.  Less after that.  Neelix brought her
meals and Harry made sure she got to sick bay for continuing therapy
and treatment.

Tom stayed away, sleeping in his office.  At first he wanted to stay
close to the bridge, wanted to make sure the helm was well manned at
all times.  But he was beginning to run down and needed a full night's
sleep, even if it was on his own couch.  What he really wanted to do
was crawl into bed behind Kate, pull her body against his and fall
asleep with his nose buried in her soft hair.

With a tired smile tipping his lips, he keyed the code to his quarters
and quietly called for lights to 20%.  The smile turned into weary
surprise when he saw Kate asleep sitting on the couch.  She wasn't
wearing much, undershorts and a tee-shirt. Tom's undershorts and
tee-shirt.  It was amazing--she **could** irritate him in her sleep.

Tom was curious and gingerly sat on the couch to pull off his boots.
The gentle rolling of the effort had the desired effect on Kate.
"That you, Tom?" came the sleep filled voice.

"Uh-huh."  The first boot hit the floor followed by a sock.

"I was waiting for you."

"Uh-huh."  He wanted to say **no kidding**, but that seemed too harsh.

"Doc will kill me if I slept sitting up again."

The second boot was off.  "Again?"  Tom turned to Kate, but she
wouldn't look at him.

"Yah.  I wanted to talk to you."

"Ok-ay."

"Why haven't you been sleeping here?"

Let's get to the point, shall we?  Tom was getting good at holding his
tongue.  "Necessity.  There's a great big mess to clean up."

Kate smiled at that , but shook her head to dismiss the reason.  At
last, she raised her eyes to Tom.  The brightness surprised the
younger man until he realized that lurking tears caused the
brightness.  Tears?

"I've had a lot of time to think while I've been laid up.  Harry's
been so good.  And Neelix has been treating me like a sick child.
But, I've had a lot of my own company.  Too much."

Well, that would be enough to drive anyone to tears.  Tom scolded
himself to be more charitable.  Shut up and listen, his princely self
said to his rude self.

"I thought a lot about the night that started the whole nightmare.
And it seems like a damn dream."  She looked at the floor, unsure of
what to say next.  "I have to admit to some digital stimulation."

There it was.  Tom didn't pretend to misunderstand, leaning back on
the couch with a sigh.  Kate stayed forward and continued, "I also
know I can't stay here, in your quarters, without you in bed with me."

A small laugh hiccoughed out of Tom.

"What?"  Kate turned an irritated face on the younger man.

"I was just thinking the same thing."

"Bullshit."

Tom laughed out loud and held his right hand up to swear, "Honest."

She was not convinced.  "I have to use the head," she grumbled and
hoisted herself from the couch.  Tom followed her into the bedroom,
staying there to get undressed.

When Kate came out of the bathroom, she looked anywhere but at the
naked man.

"Which side," Tom asked from the foot of the bed.

"Pardon?"

"Which side of the bed do you want me on.  I want to hold you, but I
don't want to aggravate your shoulder."

That got her attention, blue eyes snapped at bluer, looking for
mockery, finding none.  Hers showed open yearning, hoping Tom's words
meant more than their face value.  Tom was stunned by the depth of
feeling he found there.

"Take the side by the door," she finally answered.

He did so, placing his pillow and tossing Kate's extra to her.  She
caught it with a grimace, the quick motion bringing a twinge.
"Sorry," Tom said, chagrin plain.

Kate just shrugged and pulled back the sheet.  She lay on her side,
the extra pillow against her stomach, effective in hyperextending her
shoulder and easing her need for anything more than an analgesic at
night.  She stiffened as Tom slid in behind her, his arm easing
between the pillow and her abdomen.  "Do you mind?" came a murmur
close to his ear.

"Hell, no," Kate's answer was a whisper.  After a few tense minutes,
she asked, "Why?"

Tom heard the raw vulnerability, and he knew the answer to the
question.  "Trust."  He paused.  "I can be an arrogant SOB when it
comes to fairness and trust.  I trusted Seska because Chakotay trusted
Seska.  And I never trusted anyone less than I trusted you."  Kate
tried to pull away from his revelation, but Tom hauled her back.
"But, you stood by me, even after all the shit I threw at you.  I
didn't, and don't, deserve your trust and loyalty."

"So, you're here on an errand of mercy."  Kate's voice was frosty.

"No, purely selfish reasons."  He placed his lips gently on the
healing shoulder.

"Uh-huh?" she prompted.

"I wanted to go to sleep with your butt on my lap, and wake up the
same way."

"You say the sweetest things."

"Smart ass," he said, pushing his nose into the soft, sweet hair.
"Shut up and go to sleep."

---

The End