The BLTS Archive - Roadways
#2: Back Alleys
by MaisieRita (MaisieRita@aol.com)

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copyright 1999

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the boyz.  I'm simply taking them out for a
little joyride.  Not that it's so joyous.

Warning: Minor mentions of m/m relationships, a little angst.

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Different planet, different back alley, different bar.  Our first
chance to talk, *really* talk.  No aliens at the table this time, just
him and me.

"Another drink, Tom?"

"Sure."  He was quiet, uncomfortable.  Still having trouble believing
he could trust me, still wondering whether I was out to trap him, or
trick him.  I didn't know how to comfort him.  Maybe if he'd been the
one to find *me* in this kind of bar, if he'd seen me  chatting up a
handsome guy the way I saw him do, maybe if he'd seen the panic in my
eyes when I thought my secret was out -- maybe then he'd have trusted
me.  But then I probably wouldn't have trusted him.

It had been nearly a month.  We hadn't spoken much off-duty, not any
more than usual, maybe even less than usual.  We were both of us too
afraid, I suppose, that we'd relax, somehow, in each other's presence
and that someone would just look at us and *know*.

So there we were, in another dingy bar, able to relax only after we
surreptitiously scanned for recording devices and found none.  Tom
gave me a nifty little device that attached to the back of my comm
badge.  He had a similar one for himself.  They worked with the
universal translator to scramble our speech, so that nobody walking
by, even if they had their own translator, could have understood what
we were saying.  "Don't you think we're being a little paranoid?" I
asked, eyeing the other patrons of the bar.  They appeared universally
uninterested in us.

"It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you," Tom said,
grinning uneasily.

He'd obviously had it rougher than I had.  He'd probably had to cover
his preferences up completely.  I hid my own preferences well, and had
done so for as long as I could remember, but the consequences of
discovery would not have been disastrous for me, just incredibly
inconvenient.  At least they wouldn't have been disastrous until now,
on Voyager.  Tom, though . . .  the son of a Starfleet admiral, latest
in a long line of 'Fleet golden boys . . . he'd have lost everything
he had going for him, and he'd have taken his family down with him.

I didn't want to spook him, so I sat sipping my drink quietly, and
surreptitiously checked out the other men in the room.  The one in the
corner was particularly nice looking, and I let my eyes linger on him
a little longer than I should have.  When I turned back to the table I
saw that Tom was turning back, too, with a slight grin on his face. 
"Nice ass, huh?" he said softly, and I could only begin to imagine how
hard he'd had to work to make it sound so casual.

"Yeah," I said, nodding.  "Almost as nice as yours."  He frowned,
flushing, and I instantly regretted it.  "Sorry.  I wasn't trying to-"

"I thought we were here to talk, Commander."

Back to Commander, again.  "We are.  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to make
you uncomfortable."

He didn't lie and tell me I hadn't.  He just sat and looked at me for
a while and finally said, "It's just weird, that's all.  I mean, I
never expected to be talking to you about this."

"I know.  Me neither.  I shouldn't have-"

"Why did you?"

I let out a little breath of air, something less than a sigh.  "I
don't know.  I wasn't trying to flirt.  It was just force of habit, I
guess."

My only response was a quizzical look.

"Shore leaves are always so short," I mumbled.  "There's not a lot of
time for small talk so I usually..."

"Cut to the chase?"

I nodded and he grinned, finally relaxing.  "So you really *are* a
fag, huh?"

"Sort of.  Bi, really.  You too?"

"No.  Queer as they come.  In theory, if not in practice."

"B'Elanna doesn't know?"

A quick look of fear flashed across his face.  "Hell, no.  She'd kill
me.  Klingons are even less tolerant of homosexuality than the
Federation."

"But if you're only attracted to men, how do
you . . ."

"Practice," he said, shrugging.  "And a lot of imagination."

"Did you always know?"

"Yes.  Since I was fourteen.  I thought I could cure it if I read a
lot of het porn and watched enough vids. I really wanted to be
straight."  He looked into his glass a little wistfully.  "It would
have been so much easier."

I spoke past a sudden burst of empathy.  "You never told anyone?"

"No.  I tried to ignore it as much as possible."

"So I take it you didn't have a lot of male lovers."

"Not until Auckland."

I blinked.  "Really?"

He sighed and looked off into the distance, remembering.  "Of course,
I had to pretend I didn't like it, but *god*, Chakotay.  All those
men.  And it was almost okay, you know? Just so long as you didn't
talk about it."  He sighed wistfully and ran his finger around the top
of his glass.  "I miss it."

"It's a hell of a thing," I answered softly, "when you're happier in
prison than out of it."

He nodded, and raised his glass, a forcing a smile onto his face.  "A
toast, Chakotay."

I raised my glass in return.  "A toast."

"To new friends and deep dark secrets."

I grinned and clinked my glass with his.  "To friends and secrets."

"And now," he said, swallowing the last of his drink, "you might want
to talk to that guy over there before he leaves."

I smiled and rose.  "I'll see you back on the ship, Tom."

"Have a good time."

I laughed.  "Trust me, I will."

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The End