The BLTS Archive- Thinkin' About You by Joanne Collins (luchenbackoutlaw@gmail.com) --- Disclaimer: Everything Trek belongs to Paramount/Viacom. Richie Ryan belongs to TPTB of Highlander: The Series. Thinkin' About You, written by Bob Regan and Tom Shapiro, sung by Trisha Yearwood. Second in my Highlander/Voyager Trisha Yearwood series. This story is a sequel to the story The Song Remembers When, which is a Chakotay/Richie story. When I wrote that story, I had intended for Richie to only appear in that story, which is why he is presumed dead by Chakotay in this story, and why Tom thinks he is alive, but paralysed. There will be more stories in the series, which Richie will appear in, but he won't be in this one . There is a brief reference to the events of the Highlander episodes Something Wicked and Deliverance, but I don't think it's a spoiler. The events in this story take place the night before Tom's first mission for the Maquis, the one he was captured on. Notes: I do suggest reading The Song Remembers When. This story will make very little sense if you don't read it first. Distribution: BLTS, CPSG, HLX archive, Richie archive, ASC/EM (okay to archive on ASC archive), R'Rain's archive. Please do not distribute elsewhere without asking me first, although sharing privately is encouraged. --- "What *did* Richie let me in for?" Tom Paris mused, as he watched Chakotay talking to Seska. There had been something between those two, Tom would lay money on it. Nothing had been said, but the way they related to each other...it was more than mere colleagues, and not the easy camaraderie of friends. And Seska knew he knew, he was sure of that, as well. She didn't like him, either, but what was new? If it wasn't resentment for his "privileged upbringing", it was hatred over the accident, which was just about the reaction he'd expected. He got along surprisingly well with most of the other crewmembers, and thought that Jerron, the young Bajoran might have a slight crush on him, but he was a little young for Tom's taste. He had been a good friend, though, and maybe if he hadn't been so focused on Chakotay... Chakotay...how did he feel about the Indian? He'd started out trying to get to know him for Richie's sake, knowing that he was in mourning for what he might have had with the young man. Tom wondered if Ro had been able to arrange for the surgery that might restore his mobility, but he would probably never know. He'd liked Richie, and might even have been attracted to him if circumstances had been different, and he had agreed to try to help Chakotay through the mourning for him. But he wished that he'd just been able to get to know Chakotay under normal circumstances, if his circumstances could ever be called "normal". How would he have reacted to Chakotay if he'd met him in Starfleet? Or would his father have ruined that relationship too, like the others? He remembered again discovering the computer records, the ones his father had probably thought he had well hidden, and his losing concentration for a split second during the flight when Alandra had used an expression his father had used in the records. How could he have ever explained that to a review board? So he'd lied. But he hadn't been able to live with himself, so he'd told the truth, and been cashiered out of Starfleet. Thanks for nothing, he'd thought, contemptuously, and that day had been the day he'd officially decided not to confront his father over the records. Let him wonder forever about the reason behind the accident, and why Tom didn't want to be near the man ever again. He'd left a datachip with one of his sisters, "just in case my luck runs out," with an explanation, mostly for them, but, he acknowledged, if he were to die, he wanted his father to know that he had known about the transfers of every person he'd ever done more than share a night in bed with. No wonder he had such a reputation as a flirt. All he'd ever wanted was to find the right person for him. Someone he could spend the rest of his life with, loving and being loved. And he didn't care if that person was a man or a woman, but Owen did. Owen wanted him to "carry on the Paris name", as if that really mattered to Owen. All he wanted was a "normal" son. One who was married to a beautiful woman, who would give him perfect grandchildren. All this had been in the records, and Tom had felt a deep loathing and disgust for his father. How could he deny Tom love? How could he deny Tom the expression of his feelings? So when Owen had disowned him after the trial, Tom had felt nothing but a deep sense of relief. He'd felt more for Miranda and Juliana's loss, he knew that Owen would make it impossible for them to see him. But at least he didn't ever have to see Owen again. Their relationship had never been good, Tom's mother had managed to keep them on an even keel, but once she had died, their relationship had deteriorated so badly Tom doubted that it could ever be repaired. It wasn't that Owen had ever physically hurt him (he'd been too big, even as a fourteen-year-old, for Owen to be a physical match for him), but after the time Owen had been captured by Cardassians, he'd withdrawn so much emotionally that Tom could never reach him. He'd heard Miranda's explanations, after her qualifying as a psychologist, and Juliana's attempts at reconciliation between them had almost worked once, but there had just been too much pain and resentment between them. Tom still regretted that he'd never have a loving relationship with his father, even now. He'd confided that in Richie, he remembered, and Richie had told him that something similar had happened once to him, that someone he'd loved and trusted as family had undergone a violent, brutal personality change. Richie's friend, however, had come through his aberrant behaviour, and they had eventually reconciled. Tom had wondered how Richie could talk about something that must have happened recently with such detachment, but he hadn't felt able to ask Richie about that. He noticed Chakotay and Seska separating, and Seska walked over to join Michael Jonas. That gave Tom the creeps, there was something he didn't like about those two together, they looked like they were plotting something. Tom smiled at Jerron, who entered the room then. Jerron smiled back, shyly, and came to join Tom. To Tom's surprise, Chakotay headed over to join them. "What can I do for you, Chakotay?" Tom asked. "I just thought I'd join you, Mr Paris. Do you have a problem with that?" "Of course not," Tom indicated the third chair at the table, and Chakotay sat down. Tom could see the soul-deep sadness behind the deep brown eyes, the sadness that wouldn't go away for a long time, if ever, and all he wanted to do was kiss the sadness away. "Gods," he thought, "I suppose that clinches it. I do want him. Maybe even more than that, but I do want him." "What are you thinking about so intently, Mr Paris?" Chakotay asked. Jerron had discreetly left them alone at a signal from Chakotay. Tom answered without thinking. "You." "I'm sorry?" Tom realised what he'd said. "Chakotay, I'm *always* thinking about you," he decided that a little honesty in this relationship...whatever it was, wouldn't hurt, "Unless I'm flying, I'm wondering what you sound like when you sing in the shower, what your lips taste like, what your hair feels like to run my fingers through..." "But...I mean, we're hardly what you'd call friendly," Chakotay seemed surprised, but not shocked. "I don't know that you have to be 'buddy-buddy' with someone to find them attractive. I mean, I found you attractive the first time I saw you. Remember?" he teased, thinking of the kiss. "I thought you'd forgotten that," Chakotay's voice was a whisper. "How could I? I've never felt like that before, not just from one kiss. But you were so obviously not interested, I've tried to put it behind me. I wish I could say I've tried to forget it, but that wouldn't be the truth. And as difficult as it's been, I've always tried to tell the truth. Hell, telling the truth's the reason I'm here," he finished bitterly. Chakotay had heard that story, and didn't particularly care to hear it again. "So you are really...interested in me? Is this just a case of 'I want to get the Captain into bed', or more?" "More. Definitely more. I don't know how *much* more, but it's more. Who knows, maybe we're destined to have a short, passionate affair, maybe we're destined to be the love of each other's lives. Who knows?" "Who knows indeed?" Chakotay leaned forward and captured Tom's lips. This kiss was different to their first kiss, gentle, sweet, but with an underlying passion that Tom suspected could take his breath away. Tom pulled back, not sure he was ready for the emotions behind that kiss, and wondering, were they for him, or for Richie? But he'd take what was for him, and hope that what was for Richie could be overcome, in time. He wanted Chakotay tonight, though, before he flew on the mission tomorrow, but not just yet. How could he delay? Then he caught sight of the battered old piano in the corner that he'd always wondered about, and knew how he could delay things enough for him to get his emotions under some control. He moved away from Chakotay, noticing the slightly disappointed look, but knowing that neither of them was quite ready yet. He began playing, slowly, an old favourite classical piece, and kept going, playing some jazz, and then he remembered a song that he'd heard a few years ago, one that Chakotay would smile at, he thought, not like the one he'd played at their first meeting, although the two songs had been originally recorded by the same singer. I'm not quite sure what's going on But all day through and all night long I've been thinkin' about you I've been thinkin' about you The look in your eyes when you smile that way The sound of your voice when you're saying my name I've been thinkin' about you I just keep thinkin' about you This single-minded fascination I've got Do you call it love? If you don't, then what? All I know is I don't know what you've done But this train of thought ain't about to jump the track that it's on In the back of my mind is a secret place But the whole world knows about the smile on my face 'Cause I've been thinkin' about you Can't stop thinkin' about you This single-minded fascination I've got Do you call it love? If you don't, then what? All I know is I don't know what you've done But this train of thought ain't about to jump the track that it's on I know it's crazy calling you this late When the only thing I wanted to say Is I've been thinkin' about you I just keep thinkin' about you I can't stop thinkin' about you I'm always thinkin' about you And I love thinkin' about you... Tom realised as he sang the last line that it was true. He did love to think about Chakotay, what it would be like to run his hands over the bigger man's body, what it would be like to bury himself so deeply inside Chakotay he'd never be able to get out, not that he'd *want* to. Whatever this was, it was intense, was all Tom had time to think before Chakotay came over to him. Obviously mindful of their audience, Chakotay was very quiet. "We have to get out of here *now*, or I'll take you on the piano bench," he said with quiet intensity. Tom swallowed, his tongue flicking out to lick suddenly dry lips, and the fire burning in Chakotay's eyes blazed brighter for a moment. So much for emotional control. Neither man was aware of anything else in the room, least of all the quiet conversation taking place between Seska and Michael Jonas. "We have to get word to the Federation," Jonas said, "Or you'll have no chance to get back with Chakotay. Not after tonight. *Look* at them," he finished, disgustedly. "I am *not* letting that spoiled brat win Chakotay over me. I'll make the transmission from my quarters, then trash the receiver, so no one will be able to trace it. I can say that it was damaged in the plasma storm earlier today," Seska replied, "And Tom Paris will get what he deserves. Imagine that young idiot thinking he could get the better of *me*. I thought I had a chance to get him back, after whatever it was that happened on that supply run, but then he picked up Tom Paris," her voice was a sneer, "And he hasn't thought of anyone or anything else since. If Tom isn't gone, and soon, it'll be too late for anyone else." She watched the two men leave the room, the heat between them obvious, even to a casual observer, which she was certainly not. Almost before either man knew it, they were in Chakotay's quarters. "You're sure?" Chakotay asked, as Tom began to remove his clothing. Tom stopped what he was doing, and looked at the older man, knowing that he was asking that question of himself, rather than Tom. "Are *you*?" Tom asked, "Because if you're not, it stops, right here and now. I don't want to do *anything* you don't want, Chakotay. I want this to be *good* for us, and if you can't do this now, *we* can't do this now." Chakotay looked at the beautiful young man, and his mind replaced Tom with an image of Richie, the hair redder, the body more slender, the soul somehow older, then the image shimmered, and he saw Tom, and only Tom. It was the first time since Richie that this had happened, that he hadn't continued seeing the image of his too-brief lover in the eyes of the few people he'd tried to be with since Richie's untimely death. "I haven't been more sure of anything in weeks," he breathed, his breath on Tom's neck searing. Tom moved his lips over the beautiful planes of Chakotay's face, moving up over the broad nose, kissing his forehead briefly, then, inspired, began tracing Chakotay's tattoo with his tongue, over and over. Chakotay moaned at the feeling, and allowed Tom to continue the caressing movements as he managed to remove their clothing. As soon as both men were naked, Tom's hand moved between them to capture Chakotay's erection. Chakotay moaned, thrusting into those cleverly moving long, slender fingers. Tom continued stroking the velvety hot hardness, did something creative with his fingers, and sent Chakotay over the knife's edge. He came, roaring into Tom's ear, then collapsed against his lover. They slowly sank to the floor, Tom realising dimly that they hadn't even made it to the bedroom yet. Chakotay stirred after a few moments, smiling at Tom, who leaned up for a kiss, and Chakotay pulled him gently up from the floor. "I have a marginally more comfortable bed," he grinned, looking satisfied and rumpled. Tom couldn't do more than follow him, he'd been hard for so long, the blood supply to his brain had been cut off, and all he could do was feel every nerve ending scream with need. Need to be one with this man. "How did this happen?" he wondered. "I think it was meant to," Chakotay said, and he realised he'd spoken aloud. Chakotay pushed him gently down onto the bed, and lay down beside him. He began a careful exploration of Tom's body, finding the areas that caused him to moan, sigh, and scream when lips, tongue or fingers explored. He ran his lips over Tom's, his tongue over his neck, and his fingers through the curls of chest hair. Then he kissed his way down Tom's stomach, and took the younger man's hardness into his mouth. Lips and tongue explored the shaft, enveloping it completely, and Tom exploded with a louder cry than Chakotay's. They snuggled together, and Tom whispered, "Tomorrow, after I get back, can we do this again?" "Yes. Tomorrow and forever," Chakotay replied with a kiss to his forehead, then both men were asleep. --- The End