The BLTS Archive - La Luna by Debbie K. (BlueNebula@chariot.net.au) --- DISCLAIMER - *Please* Paramount? Please may I have Tommy and Cha? Look, here's a story I'm offering to you as a bribe. Whatcha think? Will this change your minds? Hello? Hello?? Damnit! Oh well, looks like Paramount still own Cha and Tommy and everything/one else, but because *Paramount* hung up on me I own the story and original characters... Yes to the BLTs list and R'rain's Slash Archive. No to reposting or publishing in 'zines etc etc without my permission. ABSOLUTELY NO OTHER ARCHIVING OF THIS STORY! That includes the ASCE archive - this is for personal reasons that I will not back down from. I feel obliged to add this - This story contains SLASH! In this case, it means Tom and Cha have some interesting fun together. If you're under eighteen or don't agree with that combination, please go away and send me no flames. Oh yes, and I finished this story after a non-stop weekend Star Trek and triple choc ice cream binge - you have been warned... I dedicate this one to Joanne, whose works of fanfic inspired me to write a story with a song. :-) NOTE: This set sometime after "The Chute", about three months or so, but is *not* a post-Chute-angst-story... not really, not yet... --- "Ah La Luna La Luna The night that we fell under the spell of the moon..." -=- 'La Luna', Belinda Carlisle --- After seven weeks straight space travel the crew of the USS Voyager would have welcomed any planet for shore leave, whether it be of fire and brimstone or a new Eden. Luckily a new Eden welcomed them at Ethrinka. The Ethrinkians were an advanced race, on par with the Federation, although they did not like to use their replicator or transporter technology, and they mixed their technical knowledge with the natural beauty of their planet harmoniously. The Ethrinkians could have passed for human except for their bright violet eyes and the violet tinge to their hair. Their colouring was similar to the colour of chocolate and varied from person to person in shade. Their smiles were open and welcoming, their eyes kind. Their culture was peaceful and honest. It is difficult for one to lie when belonging to a race of telepaths and even more difficult to cause pain to another when that pain is echoed through an entire society and yourself. When the blessedly few welcoming ceremonies were completed and agreements concerning food and minerals were reached, people began to beam down to the surface for their three days of freedom each on the surface of Ethrinka. --- Lieutenant j.g Tom Paris swung his bag over his shoulder and stepped onto the transporter pad. Alone. Due to their duties in repairing some systems in engineering, Harry and B'Elanna had been scheduled for their shore leave to begin the day after his was over. Didn't matter, he could use the time to think, do something by himself. He'd been around others for too long, he needed some time to himself to think. About three months had passed since Akritiria, when he and Harry had been wrongfully imprisoned and had that damn clamp-thing stuck in their heads, messing around with their brains, their thoughts and emotions. While Harry had B'Elanna to comfort and help him through the nights after Akritiria, Tom had no- one. His carefree facade was beginning to crack, his mask of flyboy pilot beginning to slip a little more everyday he woke alone in bed... Oh, gods, even now the smile was slipping off his face. He needed to get off the ship and *fast*. Paris turned to face the young crewman operating the transporter, about to nod that he was ready for transport when Chakotay strode quickly into the room, bag in hand. Paris raised an eyebrow - Chakotay wasn't due for shore leave until the final three days of Voyager's stay. The Commander quickly stepped onto the pad next to Tom, giving him a quick look out of the corner of his eye, then gave a nod to the crewman. A few seconds later the tingling sensation of the transporter cascaded down around them and they found themselves standing in some sort of garden. Paris hoisted his bag higher on his shoulder and turned to Chakotay. "Any special reason why you're beaming down early, Commander?" "Just a little swap with someone who wanted to spend sometime with friends down here," Chakotay answered smoothly as he rummaged through his pack. Pulling out a PADD, Chakotay quickly pinpointed their position on the town map they had been given and pointed to the right. "That's where our rooms are," he told Tom quickly. Paris nodded and followed behind Chakotay silently as they made their way to the hotel where some of the Voyager crew were staying. The garden they passed through was beautiful. Lush greenery, splashes of colour from flowers and the occasional bird. A light scent from the flowers perfumed the air. It wasn't a heavy perfume, just enough of a scent to bring a smile to their lips. They reached the entrance of the hotel a few minutes later with minimal conversation passing between them except for the expected pleasantries. A female Ethrinkian greeted them at the arched entrance to the hotel, her violet tinged hair glinting in the dimming light of the Ethrinkian sun. "You two are the last to arrive. Come, sign in," she smiled as she motioned towards a giant book on a nearby bench. "I like to keep the old-fashioned ways," the Ethrinkian explained. "It gives my hotel a sense of nostalgia. My name is Dyshal and welcome to my establishment." Chakotay and Paris smiled and introduced themselves in return without looking at each other. This was not lost on their telepathic host. Dyshal frowned slightly, her smile wavering for a moment. She had caught the whispers of inner turmoils from the two men, turmoils that intertwined together despite their differences. She resisted the urge to probe deeper into their minds. Quickly she fixed a beaming smile onto her lips to disguise her sudden withdrawal from the introductions. The two men never noticed. The officers signed in silently, looking around at the architecture of the building with awe. Soft curves for corners, intricate etchings which had obviously taken a long time to create covered the walls from floor to ceiling. A soft "ahem" caught their attention finally. Dyshal smiled and handed them each a card which told them where their rooms were on and the opening codes for the doors. She grinned further and motioned for them to follow her. They entered an elevator and Dyshal leaned forward and entered their destinations into a tiny keyboard. Immediately the lift began to move, slower than those on Voyager. Dyshal had programmed the lifts to move slowly on purpose. It gave people time to talk. And Dyshal liked to talk. With smile and a tilt of her head, Dyshal addressed the two men once more, her violet eyes glinting as she turned to face one man and then the other. "I've heard that your ship has a long journey ahead." It was a statement, not a question. Paris gave a short laugh and answered before Chakotay could. "You could say that," he told her. "Seventy years I think it was." Chakotay looked at Paris but said nothing. Dyshal's eyes widened. "I was told the journey was long, but not how long! Seventy years in the sky..." she trailed off. Paris and Chakotay suddenly felt a stab of ... worry rush through them and started. Dyshal looked up quickly and apologetically. "Oh, forgive me! I've never been skilled at curtaining my emotions from others! Please, ignore my outburst," Dyshal rambled slightly before catching herself. Chakotay smiled. "So tell me," Dyshal continued. "Have you been told about the nearby wonders of Ethrinka? The simple sights that take your breath away, even for those who see them every day?" Chakotay smiled at the dreamy look in Dyshal's eyes. "No, I'm afraid that we haven't. Would you care to tell us of these wonders?" he smiled. The lift halted and its doors opened. Dyshal motioned for Paris and Chakotay to step out before following. The lift closed. "You must see Ethrinka at night. The night brings life to our world! Lights bathe our cities and the moon is at its highest," she told them as they walked down the corridor. "The moon is a sight to behold at the harbour. It has inspired our greatest poets, our greatest writers and lovers." She eyed them for a moment before continuing softly. "It also helps those seeking answers from within to find what they're looking for." She was rewarded with a fain blush dusting Tom's face and Chakotay averting his eyes. Ah, she was correct! These two strangers from the stars did have troubles to resolve. Towards the end of the corridor she stopped before two doors. She pointed at the one on the left - "That room is yours for your stay, Tom Paris" - then to the door on the right - "And that room is yours for your stay, Chakotay." The two men nodded and moved to enter their respective rooms. Dyshal stopped them with gentle hands. "See the moon at the harbour," she urged them. "She has helped many in trouble, myself included." Chakotay smiled and promised he would. Paris smiled as well - his smile tinged with... sadness? - before he entered his room. --- Dyshal waited until the doors had closed behind the two men before letting out a sigh. Suddenly she felt a soft hand curve over her cheek, a sure arm curve around her waist, pulling her back into welcoming warmth. Dyshal sighed again and turned around, planting a kiss on her lover's face. Her lover responded gently before turning Dyshal towards the lift. Falling into step together they walked towards the lift. Once inside Dyshal groaned and lent against the wall. "Aniel, why do I keep doing this to myself?" she asked her lover. Aniel answered her with a shrug and a slight smile. "Because you can. Everyone leaves your hotel with daemons resolved." Dyshal returned to her lover's embrace, caressing her face. "But these two... *these* two I don't think I can help! They're not of Ethrinka, they're not like us. They're not even aware that the other has the same daemons as themselves!" "Leave them be, leave them be," Aniel crooned. "You have started them in the right direction..." "I hope it will be enough," Dyshal sighed as they stepped out of the elevator and into the main room of the hotel. --- On the first night of shore leave Paris prowled the town, alone. He didn't want company, just wanted to let the sights of the city wash over him. *Dyshal was right* he mused. *The night _does_ bring life to the city.* During the day the streets had been quiet. People were out and awake, the shops were busy, but that was _nothing_ compared to what the town was like now. People bustled the streets, laughing gaily. The city was alight in soft lights positioned in such a way that there were no shadows. Colour was splashed everywhere, softened by the slight darkness. A pair of children skipped by and Paris stepped out of the way to let them through. He felt a smile on his face and was surprised - when he had left his room that evening after spending the afternoon thinking over Dyshal's words he had been in a melancholy mood. He had waited a good half hour after he had heard Chakotay leave his room before venturing out himself. He hadn't been up to facing the Big Man for some time now, ever since he had taken Voyager back from Seska and the Kazon. Since the time Seska had died. Tom knew Chakotay had loved Seska and how her betrayal had hurt him. He knew that no matter how much Chakotay pretended that he didn't, Tom knew that Chakotay had still loved Seska then. Or at least, loved the person she had been. It was during _his_ attack that she had died and he felt partly responsible for her death. True, Tom had hated Seska with a passion, but he remembered the slight shift of expression on Chakotay's face when they had found her body and the look on his face as Chakotay turned to face Tom... Tom felt the smile slip from his face and cursed himself for thinking back to that. What idiot thought about unpleasantries in a city such as this? He shrugged off the thought and headed down a path leading out of the city. He found himself at the harbour Dyshal had been speaking of. The moon was rising. Half of it was already peeking over the water, casting silvery-white light over the water. There were boats moored at the harbour - pleasure boats or fishing boats, Paris couldn't tell. He suddenly noticed how the harbour had hardly any artificial lighting at all. Only minimal soft lights lit the paths and docks. It would seem that the majority of the light was meant to come from the moon. Tom found a bench and sat down, looking over the water. It was so... peaceful. He felt contented. With a smile he allowed himself to relax marginally, to forget about the past and concentrate on the present. The sound of boots crunching on rock interrupted his solitude. Someone was coming down the path. Paris recognised by the shape of the person and the movement of his walk that the approaching person was the Commander. Tom quickly stood, left the harbour quickly and returned to his room at the hotel. He didn't notice Dyshal and Aniel look up sadly from their seat in the main room as he passed them by. --- Chakotay had walked around the city for a few hours before heading down to the harbour. The city was beautiful. Magnificent actually. Simplicity and great complexity were mixed in the architecture of the buildings. It was a difficult combination to maintain with this success. He finally headed down to the harbour some time later. He was curious about the harbour. Considering Dyshal's words that afternoon, it sounded as a sight to behold. Chakotay had a great respect for natural beauty and to him it seemed at the Ethrinkians did as well. At the harbour he too noticed the lack of lighting and found himself drawn to the main source of the scarce light there - the moon. Only half risen, its light danced across the water and the dock. He continued down the path. Nearing the bottom he heard a scuffing sound, as if someone had quickly stood and walked away. Looking up he caught the glint of golden hair in the moonlight. Paris. Chakotay frowned when he noticed Paris continue on his path away from the harbour. Then he shrugged. He moved to the bench Paris had been sitting on and sat himself, looking over the water to the moon, a sense of calm spreading through him. A slight smile danced over Chakotay's lips as the moon rose to its peak. He closed his eyes and meditated. It was time to rid himself of the ghost of Seska once and for all. --- Dyshal and Aniel looked up once more a few hours later as Chakotay entered the hotel. Chakotay greeted them as he passed them by. "Dyshal, may I thank you for mentioning the harbour this afternoon," Chakotay said after his greeting. "The sight of the moon... it's like nothing I have ever seen before." Dyshal felt her lover squeeze her hand gently. She smiled. "You are welcome, Chakotay. I am glad you found the view as breathtaking as I do. Will you be returning?" Chakotay's smile widened. "I feel as though I have to return!" he laughed. "Good night, and thank you once more." He turned and headed to the elevator. Aniel turned to face her lover. "I don't know how you do it, Dyshal! I felt him this afternoon. Confusion, sadness, even anger inside him. He's almost free of those daemons now!" Dyshal turned and kissed Aniel's lips. "_Almost_ free," she reminded Aniel. "He still has one daemon." She looked up in the direction of the off-world guests' rooms. "And that daemon is Tom Paris." --- Tom awoke with a frown. He had had a dream. What happened in it, he couldn't remember. He sighed. He _hated_ when that happened. Now it would play on his mind all day until sleep claimed him once more or until he finally remembered. He groaned and headed towards the shower, letting the hot water fall over him. After getting himself dry and dressed, Tom stepped out of his room, ready to head down to the main room to ask Dyshal were he could find a good cafe or restaurant for breakfast. Outside his room he found himself face to face with Chakotay who was leaving his room at the same moment. Both men paused and stared at each other for a moment before Paris hurried over the lift. He held it open, waiting for Chakotay. They travelled down without a word. Dyshal greeted her guests eagerly. "You slept in!" she told them pointing at the timepiece that displayed the time as hour 7 of 25. They stared back at her so shocked she couldn't help but smile. "Don't worry about it," she reassured them. "Obviously Ethrinkians need less sleep than your species... human?" The two men nodded and Dyshal beamed. "Good! Now, are you hungry? All my other guests have eaten already; they came down earlier. But then again, they didn't go out last night. Come, eat with Aniel and myself! Tell us about what you saw in our city!" She ushered Chakotay and Paris into the dining room where already Aniel was seated. She moved to stand up, but Dyshal motioned her to stay seated. Dyshal rushed off into an adjacent room and returned a few minutes later with two extra plates. She placed one in front of each man before serving everyone. Breakfast consisted of a largish square of a yellowish pastry- type cover, filled with fruits native to Ethrinka and tall glasses of some sort of juice served warm. Both men had to agree that it was really quite good. A *big* improvement over leola root any day. After breakfast was finished and some idle chit-chat, Tom and Chakotay excused themselves from the table and went their separate ways. Dyshal looked after them and sighed. "It's just so hard to try work out what is causing that animosity between them! They keep their minds in the past, they don't look forward!" Dyshal complained to her lover. Aniel frowned thoughtfully before answering. "Dyshal, I think that their animosity stems back many years. I don't think there's anything else you can do for them." Aniel smiled gently. "I know that they are your 'project' at the moment, but accept that there is nothing else you can do. It's up to them to sort whatever it is out." "Why is it I feel that things will get worse for them before they get better? All right Aniel, I'll leave them be. The moon can do her work. Maybe, just maybe..." Dyshal trailed off. Aniel squeezed her hand again then took the dishes in to be cleaned, leaving Dyshal to stand staring out the window. --- The second night on Ethrinka passed without a repeat of the previous night. Tom avoided the harbour and he avoided Chakotay. He had finally remembered his dream. It had been... disturbing. He had dreamed that he and Chakotay were back on the Ocampa homeworld, back in the tunnel where Chakotay had almost died. Tom was edging towards the then still Maquis, determined not to let him die, needing to show him through this action that Tom was *not* as selfish as people thought him to be and that he was *not* a coward. He was inching forward, ignoring Chakotay's demands that Paris went back and his warning that it was too late to save him. He moved forward to the part of the platform Chakotay was trapped on, leg broken and unable to move. That was when events changed. Instead of reaching Chakotay and pulling him off just before the platform collapsed, Tom arrived too late in this version. He had watched Chakotay fall into the blackness of the cavern. With a smile on his face. A smile because Paris had failed once again and Chakotay owed the man nothing. And Paris had stood there, staring blindly down into the cavern as the rocks fell around him. Then he had woken up. Tom gulped, realising that he had zoned out in the middle of the city and that people were staring at him curiously. With a jolt he remembered that the Ethrinkians were telepathic and had probably picked up on his thoughts. As quickly as he could without drawing further attention to himself he jogged back to the hotel. Once there, grateful that Dyshal was not for once seated in the main room, he headed for his room. When the doors slid shut behind him he lay down heavily on the bed. "Oh, gods," he moaned into the silent darkness. "Why is this happening to me?" There was no answer. Then Tom remembered Dyshal's words. *See the moon at the harbour. She has helped many in trouble, myself included.* Paris snorted in disbelief before memories of the moon rushed back to him. He paused. It was true, he had felt calmer after being at the harbour. Why, he had absolutely no idea. All he knew is that he *had* felt calmer. Quickly checking the time - hour 24.5 of 25 - he decided it was too late to visit the harbour then. He would wait for the next day. Not bothering to get up to change, he rolled over and fell asleep in his clothes. --- Chakotay and Paris spent the day in the garden where they had been beamed down into, but they were never aware of the other's presence. Both were resolving some personal daemons. --- Chakotay had finally said good-bye to Seska. He had seen her dead, her arm stretched out as though she was reaching for something, her eyes still open while in death yet even though dead she continued to follow and spite him. She seemed to haunt his dreams, even his waking moments. Now another had begun to haunt his dreams. Tom Paris. No matter what Chakotay dreamed, where he was or who he was with, Paris was always there for some period of time. It had started while Seska still featured in his dreams. Tom had appeared for a flash in the first dream, the figure standing beside him when they found Seska dead, then for longer and longer periods of time in the following dreams. Chakotay had meditated like crazy over it before finally accepted that he had no idea of the meaning of Tom's appearances. So now he walked the gardens thoughtfully. He let the beauty of his surroundings flow over him, not analysing it but accepting it. --- Tom walked the garden paths stiffly. He ran a hand through his hair blindly. He hadn't slept well. Dreams kept waking him up. Cadlik Prime, his time in the Maquis... New Zealand... and finally, once more, the dream where he had failed in saving the Commander in the cavern. He shook his head and continued walking, oblivious to his surroundings. Finally it grew dark. Tom stopped his aimless walking and headed towards the harbour. Maybe the moon would help him calm himself once more. --- Chakotay looked up from his seat against a tree. He had been meditating and hadn't noticed the darkness descend in the garden. He hauled himself to his feet and made his way to the harbour. It was time to have one final gaze upon the Ethrinka moon. --- The moon was already at its peak by the time Paris finally made his way to the harbour. He stopped for a moment, just staring at the glory of the moon. It was full and white that night, its light streaming across the water. The light danced as the water moved gently against the shore. It was mesmerising... and calming. Tom could feel his tensions draining from him as the light of the moon washed over him. A smile played on his lips as his mental burdens were eased by his relaxation. Tom was still standing as Chakotay arrived at the harbour. Chakotay stood rock still for a moment, taking in the sight of Tom bathed in the light of the moon. His breath caught, he had never before noticed the beauty of the man. Tom's face was upturned, the light of the moon washing over his facial features highlighting them. The line of his jaw, his high cheekbones, his pale lashes occasionally fluttering down to lightly touch his cheeks as he blinked... Tom's face was more open than Chakotay had ever seen it. No barricades, no smug attitude. Just Tom Paris, and Tom Paris looked beautiful. Without his knowledge Chakotay had stepped closer to Tom. Hearing the crunch of the Commander's boot on the ground Paris' eyes flew open and locked with Chakotay's. Arousal kicked the Commander straight in the stomach and his breath caught in his throat as his eyes locked with Tom's. The light of the moon had not bleached the brilliance of the blue of his eyes which were gazing slightly hazily into Chakotay's brown counterparts. Chakotay could see a reflection of the moon in the blue depths in front of him. Quickly clearing his throat Chakotay stepped to the side of Paris and stood facing the harbour. "Nice night," Chakotay commented, almost wincing at his words. Of all the cliched, pathetic things to say... "Yeah," Paris offered in reply before falling silent again. Chakotay sighed. "Look, Par-Tom," he began. "I've been needing to talk to you for a while now..." Beside him, Tom stiffened. "Oh, really?" Tom drawled. "What about, Commander?" Chakotay refused to be aggravated. "Yes, really. When the Kazon took the ship, when you risked your life to bring her back to us..." Chakotay stopped for a moment before beginning again. "No, when Seska died - " he noticed Tom stiffen again and move slightly to the side away from him "- when Seska died, my behaviour towards you was unforgivable. I blamed you for her death when I had no right to. Her actions killed herself, I see that now. Maybe even I contributed to her final death in some way by my previous actions, I'll never know. But I *do* know that her death was not your fault, Lieutenant, and I apologise for any actions or behaviour on my part that may have led you to believe that it was your fault." Chakotay stopped for breath and turned to face the young pilot, feeling foolish for the anxiety that he felt as he waited the man's reaction to his words. It seemed as though Tom was not going to answer him as he stood still and gazed over the water. Chakotay stepped in front of the pilot. "Tom?" Paris looked up, his eyes bright not with tears but with hidden hurt. "I did kill her Commander," Tom whispered. "My attack caused her death and I was glad when she died. I'm *still* glad she's dead. I'm not the traitor to 'the cause', I never was. It was *her* and I'm glad she's dead...*Commander*." Paris moved to pull away but Chakotay's strong hand on his shoulder stopped him. Tom looked up defiantly. *Go ahead!* his eyes seemed to be demanding. *Go ahead and belt me one. I know you want to after what I just said.* Chakotay *wanted* to belt him one after what Paris said, he really did, but one look at the man's eyes deadened that thought immediately. Maybe it was the moon, maybe it was because Chakotay had finally rid himself of his ghosts, because beneath all the defiance, the arrogance and anger that filled Paris' eyes there was something else, something Chakotay had never seen before in this man's eyes. Pain. Deep, hidden pain and turmoil that reached out and grabbed Chakotay as he stared into wide cerulean eyes. Almost without thinking his hand reached up and cupped behind the blonde's head, tilting the pilot's face towards his own while his other hand snaked up to Tom's shoulder, resting there. Those blue eyes glittered slightly and confusion seeped in to mix with the hurt. Chakotay just smiled slightly, lowered his head and gently kissed Tom's lips, breathing in slowly to create a gentle suction with his mouth. He felt Tom stiffen slightly beneath his hands, then slowly relax, leaning in closer to him. Carefully Chakotay licked at Tom's mouth, tracing the edge of his lower lip with his tongue. The pilot's lips parted and Chakotay's tongue entered his mouth, dancing with Tom's tongue as he moved his hands now up and down the pilot's back slowly. Tom's hands were no longer at his sides but were at the back of the Commander's head, pulling him closer for a deeper kiss. Quickly Chakotay nipped a path down Paris' jaw and along his neck, grinning at the slights gasps and exclamations that escaped the younger man's throat. They necked at the harbour for a few minutes before suddenly realising simultaneously that they were in full view of anyone who may be passing by. Without a word they turned and headed back to the hotel, hands linked and arms still around each other. Once inside Chakotay's room the physical contact needed to be increased. Both men crushed the other against himself. Lips met in long, opened mouthed kisses that seemed to last for minutes on end. They stumbled over to the bed, Tom banging the back of his legs against the frame when they finally reached it. "Ow," he muttered before focusing his attention to removing the other man's shirt. Chakotay helped him then helped remove Tom's clothes. In a few minutes both were naked, moonlight from the nearby window washing their bodies in the pale light. Chakotay's darker skinned gleamed almost gold, Tom's skin seemed as white as the moon itself. Paris reached for Chakotay, ran his fingers up and across his chest as he kissed the older man's mouth. Chakotay's lips parted immediately, his hands travelling on their own little journey along the young pilot's back. Tom felt a hardness jump against his thigh and reached down, curling his hand around the Commander's erection, lightly and slowly moving his hand in a gentle rhythm. Chakotay groaned and pulled them down across the bed. Tom found himself on his back, Chakotay sprawled across him. Chakotay was sucking and nibbling a path across Tom's jaw, then his neck, then his shoulder before finally moving down to capture a small, rounded nipple between his teeth. Tom groaned and moved against the bed. Chakotay smiled despite himself and moved over to the other to give it the same treatment as its twin. Now Tom was pulling Chakotay up, his hand once more reaching down to the Commander's raging erection to encircle it with his hand. Deliberately Tom's hand began to move, slowly at first then harder, faster, all the time keeping a steady rhythm. It wasn't long until Chakotay threw his head back and came with a whimpered yell and in hot long spurts. Tom sighed happily and rolled the Commander over without any resistance. He lowered his head and captured Chakotay's mouth again, grinding his now raging erection against the other man's belly. Chakotay raised a hand and pushed Tom back, looking at him for a long moment before rolling over onto his stomach, offering his back to the young pilot. His hand began to work over the Commander's back, gentle yet forceful at the same time, much the same way as he worked the helm. He leant over and whispered into the older man's ear, "Got any lube?" Nodding against the sheets, Chakotay pointed to the bathroom door. "In there," he gasped. "In the blue bag." Tom nodded and left the room, quickly returning tube in hand. He quickly squeezed out some of the slick gel and prodded Chakotay's cleft with gentle hands. First one finger, then two, then three. Chakotay groaned at each stroke. When he was sure Chakotay was ready, Tom quickly slicked some of the gel over his own erection and positioned himself behind the Commander who lifted his hips in invitation. Slowly Tom began to ease himself in. *Too slow* a barely coherent part of Chakotay's mind chanted. *Too slow too slow tooslow!* Chakotay raised himself up on his elbows and impaled himself deeper on Tom's cock. The younger man behind him gave a strangled gasp then began to move in and out, setting a rhythm that quickly grew in its tempo. Within a few seconds they were slamming against each other. Tom's wondering hands noticed that the Commander had grown hard again and snaked his hands around his erection. His hand began to glide in rhythm with his thrusts, his hand still slick with the lubricant enticing a moan from Chakotay. Chakotay felt the tightening in his groin that signalled his impending climax and came with a shout into Tom's hand. Tom felt the Commander's muscles tighten and clench around him and a few seconds later spent himself inside Chakotay and lay gasping against the older man's back. Slowly he eased out and Chakotay rolled over, pulling Paris into his arms. They fell asleep together, legs tangled and breath against the other's cheek as the moon continued to shine above them. --- Tom woke with a jerk. Something wasn't right. Suddenly he registered the warmth in the bed beside him. He rolled over and came face to face with Chakotay, the light from the setting moon streaming through the window bleaching his colouring to a pale imitation of its usual dark brilliance. A smile was on Chakotay's face and his arm was slung possessively over Tom's waist. Carefully Tom extracted himself from Chakotay's grasp and began to dress, keeping his face blank, at the same time keeping the memories of the previous night's activities at bay. Dear God, he'd actually fucked the Commander... Paris noticed that his hands were trembling as he entered the code for the door to open for him. In his haste to leave Tom never heard the soft rustling of skin against material as Chakotay woke and watched him silently. Once through the door Paris turned, locked it again and entered his own room. Precisely and methodically he organised his belongings together and tapped his communicator. "Paris to Voyager." He was silently grateful that his voice didn't shake as much as his hand had. "This is Voyager, go ahead Mr Paris," Tuvok's calm and placid voice greeted him. Damn, don't Vulcans *ever* sleep? "One to beam up," Paris replied after a moment's pause. "Acknowledged." A few seconds later the gentle tingle of the transporter fell around him and the room vanished from his view. A few seconds after that he rematerialised in transporter room two. With a jaunty grin at the crewman on duty, Tom picked up his stuff and headed to his quarters. Automatically he prepared himself for sleep. He slipped out of clothes that had only recently been removed by gentle bronze hands, entered the shower feeling the hot water stream down him in a path so similar to what Chakotay's lips and tongue had followed that evening... Tom shuddered. Quickly turning off the water he yanked on some pyjama bottoms and fell into bed praying sleep would claim him soon. --- *He left, he actually left* Chakotay kept repeating in his mind as he went about dressing in his hastily discarded clothing. Blindly he tugged his boots on then left his room and headed to the elevator. A few minutes later he was out the hotel and in the city. Despite the cheerfulness and splendour of the city a cloud of gloom followed Chakotay in his walking. The sea of Ethrinkians parted as he walked through the brightly lit streets. --- Sleep evaded him. After an hour or so Tom finally gave up and ordered the lights back on. Immediately the room was flooded with light. Paris sighed and flopped back against the bed. Sleep seemed not to be an option, he decided, maybe some music... "Computer, play random selections from Paris-alpha-80," he called. Immediately the songs of long dead singers filled the room. He leaned back and smiled as first Fleetwood Mac, then Tina Turner sang their hearts to the lone occupant of the room. Then a new song began... -- I remember when I met you All the stars were hanging in mid-air In these moments - nothing mattered ut the way you caught me in your stare We were walking - we were talking We were laughing about the state of our lives How our fates brought us together As the moon was rising in your eyes On and on the night was falling Deep down inside us On and on a light was shining right through Ah La Luna La Luna The night that we fell under the spell of the moon Ah La Luna La Luna The light that will being me back to you The light of La Luna In the hotels, in the cafes All the world was mad with romance In the harbour moonlit water All the ships were swaying in a dance Then you held me and you kissed me And I knew I had to be with you You didn't ask me you just took me To the tiny bed in your tiny room On and on the band was playing A song of surrender On and on the sun would soon break through Ah La Luna La Luna The night that we fell under the spell of the moon Ah La Luna La Luna The light that will being me back to you Ah La Luna La Luna The night that we fell under the spell of the moon Ah La Luna La Luna The light that will being me back to you The light of La Luna Now I walk along the streets of Marseilles The winter sky is cold and gray And I don't know why I left you that day And I don't know where you are Ah La Luna La Luna The night that we fell under the spell of the moon Ah La Luna La Luna The light that will being me back to you Ah La Luna La Luna The night that we fell under the spell of the moon Ah La Luna La Luna The light that will being me back to you -- By the time the song was over Tom was staring blankly across the room. The computer began to play another song, the first few loud beats of its introduction pulsing through the room. "Computer, end playback and turn the lights off," Paris called hoarsely. The computer complied immediately. In a semi-daze Paris pulled the covers tighter around himself and closed his eyes, sleep finally claiming him. That night his dreams were filled not with flashes of death or screams of pain and anger. His dreams were filled with breathless cries, needful touches and the deep, brown, understanding eyes of the tattooed First Officer... --- The End?