The BLTS Archive - Season V: Moving Forward
by Bridget Cochran (bjcochran@aol.com)

---

© 1999

Number 9 in the Season V Series which includes The Way of All
Flesh, A Friend in Need, A Friend in Deed, Pride's Cloak, The
Moon is Nothing, Conscious Betrayal, Molded Out of Faults, and No
Signposts in the Sky.

Spoilers for Dark Frontier.

This story is part of a series that explores an on-going
relationship between two men that has involved consensual sex.
If that kind of relationship bothers you, move along home.

Disclaimer:  I own the ideas, Paramount owns the rest.  Archive
at will, including ASC/EM, BLTs, R'Rain's and AllSlash.

Thank you to the beta readers, a job I have no skill at (at which
I have no skill).

---

Tom had no idea when he had been that scared.  On a fear scale of
1 to 10, the sensation was off the scale.  No number fit.  When
the captain said they were heading into the belly of the beast,
he knew enough to be very worried.

The captain had changed so much in the last six months.  Her
determination to get them home had become like an obsession since
her big bout with depression back in the Void.  True, she hadn't
been on Tom's hit parade since his demotion.  But something about
beating the Borg at their own game sort of made her blood pump.
Really sent her hurling forward into the great unknown.

It brought back the old fire to her eyes.  Brought back her
feistiness.  That was okay with Tom if it didn't get them all
killed in the process.

He and Chakotay hadn't discussed it much over the last eighty or
so hours.  Tom felt like he'd been through a wringer.  Watching
from afar as the away team stole the transwarp coil.  Being in
charge of the beam out, as well as flying Voyager had been a pain
in the ass, but nowadays it was just better to keep his mouth
shut and do his job.

Then they modified the Delta Flyer with the transwarp coil.  He'd
worked feverishly beside B'Elanna to incorporate it into the
systems of his baby, to make it work with his already bastardized
Federation technology.  Vorick, Carey, Nicoletti.  They'd worked
side-by-side to rescue Seven from the collective.  The same
people who had worked around the clock to rescue him and Tuvok
from Gravity Well Hell were working side-by-side to spring Seven
from the clutches of the Borg Queen.

As Tom stood in Cargo Bay Two looking up to the regenerating
Borg, he couldn't help the bone tired weariness that swept over
him.  But he had to make sure she was alright.

The room was dim, as it always was, yet it didn't calm Tom's
nerves.  They were shot.  As they hurtled through space in the
transwarp conduit, he had silently wished he'd asked the Doctor
for an enema.  He had never been so close to embarrassing himself
in an elemental way in his whole 'Fleet career.  But Janeway was
so determined and Tuvok was so Vulcan, and if a hologram could
have motion sickness, Tom could squeeze his cheeks and follow
through.

Now, he stood and watched Seven sleep, and wondered what was
going through her mind.  The Borg-God damned-Queen knew about
her.  She had been in the presence of the Borg Queen and lived.
So had Janeway.  God save him from strong women.

When the two had beamed back onto the Delta Flyer, Tom wanted to
do nothing more than hug Seven.  Stupid and irrational.  That
summed up the emotions, along with relief and a certain amount of
satisfaction at having been instrumental in designing some of the
technology used in removing Seven from the hive.

He shook at the thought.  Seven in the hive.  It is amazing how
much she'd grown to mean to him in the last two years.  Her
maturation was like an evolution.  She was unfolding like a
flower.  It was beautiful to see. Beautiful.

Chakotay had been against her in the beginning.  She was the
great unknown. Based on Federation experience with her race (if
you could call it that), he thought they should drop her off at
the nearest planet so she could wait for the collective to pick
her up.  Tom wasn't sure how the commander felt about her now.
They'd never discussed it.

Tom rubbed the back of his neck, glad he'd left his uniform
jacket back in his quarters.  He was ordered off for two days
after their ordeal, to rest.  He would rest after the adrenaline
was drained.  Then he'd probably sleep for the next forty-eight
hours.

But, until he was tired enough, he would stay here with Seven;
watching over her even though it was totally unnecessary.  She
was fine.  It was just that he didn't want her to be alone.  Like
he'd been alone for so long.  Like she'd been alone in the
collective.

In the last 80 hours Tom had gotten a total of ten hours sleep.
Both times he'd napped, he'd awaken to find Chakotay spooned in
behind him.  The first time it scared him.  He'd jumped a foot.
The second time, he'd turned into the embrace and fell back
asleep.  If someone would have told him five years ago how the
embrace of a man, this man, would have a calming effect on him,
he would have treated it with that hard edged disdain that
protected him like a force field.

Now, he felt a loss for the time wasted.  Well, it wasn't wasted,
he thought as he walked around Seven's space.  It was a time of
growth.  Or maybe a time of shedding the tough outer skin and
becoming human again.  Guess he and Seven weren't so different.
Except that she was an incredible specimen of--er, efficiency.
He was just an average guy with an above average capacity for
getting into trouble.

Tom's head raised in surprise when the door rolled open.  He
smiled when he saw Chakotay enter the Cargo Bay carrying a
covered box.  The older man did not return the smile.

"Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?"

Tom didn't let the tone of voice faze him.  "Eventually.  Just
wanted to make sure she was all right."  He let his gaze rise to
the sleeping  woman.

"She'll be fine."

Chakotay was irritated about something.  Tom examined the tense
face for a few minutes.  "What's in the box?"

Chakotay slowly turned from his study of the regenerating form to
Tom.  "The down loaded logs from the Raven."

"What kind of logs?"

"Field studies.  Thousands of entries."

Tom nodded.  "And?"

Chakotay looked back up at Seven.  "Personal logs."

Tom swallowed.  "And?"

"And, if I could get my hands on both of them right this minute,
I'd break their necks."  His voice was so low, but so lethal, Tom
shivered.  "She was only four years old when they went warping
off to search for the Borg.  They didn't give anymore thought for
her than they would have for a pet."

Staring at Chakotay staring at Seven, Tom examined the anger
etched onto the dark face.  He hadn't seen that look for years.
Years.  It was the deep seated rage that the man had felt toward
the inequities of the universe.  Anger that sprang from the
futility.  Tom took a step further into the commander's space, a
tacit reminder that Chakotay was no longer alone, physically or
emotionally.

Chakotay glanced at Tom, a rueful smile slid onto his lips.
"You're closer to her than I am.  Is she adjusting to Voyager?"

Tom's brow came together.  Closer?  "I guess.  She cares a great
deal for Voyager and the crew."

Chakotay nodded.  "Has she made friends?"

A frown wrinkled his forehead.  "Yah.  The Vulcans all like her.
Naomi adores her."  He looked again at the regenerating Seven.
"I don't know how many times I've seen them chattering their way
along the corridor."

"Chattering?"

"Okay, Naomi is chattering.  Seven just smiles."  Tom met
Chakotay's questioning look levelly.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"  Chakotay asked.

"What?"  Tom was playing possum.

"The smile."

Now Tom favored Chakotay with one of his own.  "It **is**
beautiful."

"She usually saves her smiles for Naomi," Tom sighed.

"She's favored you with one or two."

The blonde's smile broadened.  "Not that I'm aware of.  Tell me
more."

Pulling his ear, Chakotay looked away, smiling at the memory.
"When you were explaining the rescue scenario for Planet X."

Tom nodded.  "And?"

"The more unlikely the explanation became, the more amused she
became.  There I was, trying to maintain a professional demeanor.
I take one look at her, see her lips twitch, it was all I could
do not to fall apart."

"The plan was sound," Tom whined, his smile slipping somewhat.

"It was sound," Chakotay agreed.  "But it was really amusing."

"Glad I could amuse you," he said as he walked away from Chakotay
and the regeneration alcove to examine some remnants of the Borg
scout cube.

Tom can turn touchy quicker than I can, Chakotay thought,
sighing.  "Tom, I enjoyed your resolution."   That was pretty
pedantic.  He moved closer to Tom.

Rolling his eyes at Chakotay, he moved further away.  "Uh-huh.
Must have seemed pretty stupid.  Captain Proton to the rescue."

"Not at all."  Chakotay finally reached Tom and grabbed his arm
to make him still.  "It was creative and inventive."

Tom closed his eyes, and moved into Chakotay's space.  "Tuvok
told me that the Chaotica program is still available."  Chakotay
nodded.  "You knew?"

"Yes," Chakotay said as he looked squarely at Tom.  "He didn't
want you to destroy something you enjoyed so much because it was
a catalyst for a random anomaly of  photonic space."

"Yeah," Tom said, "he told me that on our extended vacation."  He
leaned his forehead against the side of Chakotay's head.  "He's a
good guy.  A real softy."

Now Chakotay smiled.  The image of the Vulcan as a softy amused
him.  It was wonderful to have Tom here leaning on him.

"You gonna counsel Seven?" Tom broke into his thoughts.

"I'm going to offer my services, yes."  Tom was silent, his head
still applying pressure to Chakotay's.  "What?"  the older man
tried to push Tom away, to get a look at his face.

Tom tried to smile, but it didn't look much like a smile.  "It's
pretty stupid."

"Let me judge."

With a sigh, Tom pushed away from the commander.  "She's very
attractive."

"Yes."  Chakotay knew where Tom was going with this, but Tom
needed to learn to say out loud the things that bothered him.

"You like women."

"I do."

"Um--" Tom looked over Chakotay's shoulder to Seven's still form.
"She'd be pretty easy to fall in love with."

"She would be," Chakotay admitted, bringing Tom's gaze back to
bounce off his. "But I don't fall in love easily."

Tom blinked, trying to discern what Chakotay was saying.  "You
don't?"

"No," Chakotay lowered his voice to a murmur, "I believe in one
life long mate."

Tom became aware he was not breathing when he tried to swallow
the lump in his throat.  "Okay."  His tongue came out to moisten
his lips. "I can live with that."

Chakotay grasped Tom by the shoulders to face him.  A dark hand
grasped the back of the pilot's head to bring the gaping mouth
down to his.  "You will," he said before his lips moved with
confidence over Tom's.  After only the slightest hesitation did
the younger man move into the embrace returning the kiss with
more enthusiasm than his tired body would be able to follow
through with.

"Perhaps you would like to continue this activity in your own
quarters."

The two men sprang apart like guilty children caught playing
doctor.  Which they were.  She looked from Tom to Chakotay as
they both wiped spittle from their mouths with the back of their
hands.  The tiny little smile that they had been discussing
earlier hovered on the full lips as she stepped down from her
perch.

Her eyes pierced Tom.  "You have not rested."

Tom blushed, "No, I wasn't tired yet."

Her eyes narrowed, but she turned her attention to Chakotay.
"You have returned the Raven's logs to me?"

"I have," Chakotay indicated the canister.

"Very well.  I suppose you will wish to discuss them."

Chakotay nodded.  "We'll set up a time after you return to duty."

Seven continued to stare at the two men.  "What?" Tom said
uncomfortably, wondering just how much of the conversation Seven
had over heard.

"Captain Janeway placed me in my alcove," she stated.

"Uh-huh," Tom nodded, one eye on Seven, the other on Chakotay.

"Perhaps the commander will place you in yours."

Tom blinked at Seven, watching the decidedly impish smile emerge,
but he turned when he heard the Cargo Bay door clunk open.  "You
stinker," he called as he jogged off after Chakotay, laughing as
he ran.

---

The End