GRAVITAS

Title: Gravitas, 21/26
Author: Jaye (Copyright February 2003)
Codes: VOY/TNG/DS9 Many Pairings NC-17

Disclaimer: Star Trek and all related characters and concepts are the property 
of Paramount. Gladiator belongs to Dreamworks SKG and Universal. No infringement 
is intended or profit made. This is NC-17 for adult themes, violence and sex. If 
you aren't interested (or aren't old enough), don't read it.

Archive: Drop me a note first so I know where it's going. Please keep the text 
(especially the disclaimer) intact.

Feedback: Sure but be kind, or at least constructive. E-mail is 
reader8901@fastmail.fm

Summary: Treachery raises the stakes and changes lives when the leader of the 
Terran Empire seeks to restore the Federation.

Note: Very AU, as chapters 1-14 were basically the film "Gladiator" set in a 
Star Trek universe. Now it's my own invention. No Maquis, no Delta Quadrant, 
etc. This is my response to Polly's Cha!Club challenge about movies. Sisko is 
older here than in canon.

***************

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Reg and Marla were out on their balcony, watching the sun set over the city. Reg 
had his arms wrapped around his wife, savoring the press of her back against his 
chest. The fact that they had found each other, that she loved him, still filled 
him with awe. He believed it always would. He rubbed a cheek against her blonde 
hair. "So what do you think?" he asked, his voice hushed in deference to the 
approaching night.

"Honestly, I don't know." Marla sighed and ran her hands down her husband's long 
arms. She smiled fondly as she thought of them wind-milling through the air 
whenever Reg got overly excited over a new discovery in engineering. "It's an 
intriguing offer. But I'm not sure I want to go back to the Fleet."

"Will did say he would give us our old ranks back, and our pick of assignments," 
Reg pointed out. "We'd be able to go back to pure military research instead of 
installing alarm systems and inventing new and better ore processors."

"But there's a real need for that kind of work, Reg," Marla said as she turned 
to face her husband. She searched his eyes. "I know that we did a lot of good 
for the Fleet when we were with them. But to be honest, I *like* the 'more 
mundane' applications of engineering theory or whatever you want to call it."

She gripped his shoulders. "Like the exoskeleton we developed for that Elaysian 
woman---Melora. We enabled her to walk for the first time since she left the 
light gravity of her home planet. Nobody else was able to do that." Her gaze 
saddened. "And not many people would. It wasn't very profitable for us."

Reg smiled in understanding and trailed his fingertips along the frown lines on 
Marla's brow until they eased. "But it *was* important," he conceded, "and we've 
earned enough from other patents to afford some pro bono work."

"Exactly." Marla nodded. "If we're Fleet, *they* decide what we work on, even if 
we're in charge of the lab." Her lips pursed uncertainly. "But I don't want to 
keep you from your dreams, Reg. Do you want to go back? Because if you do, I'll 
go with you."

Reg kissed the pointy tip of his wife's nose and shook his head. "Not really. 
Once, I needed the structure, the discipline of Fleet life for support. But now 
we've built something together, I can stand on my own two feet, beside you." He 
lifted his brows. "Besides, we can always sub-contract as consultants if Will, 
Joe or Kathryn really needs us."

Marla hugged Reg tight. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear. She leaned back, 
a secretive smile on her face. "It's just as well. Kate may not have been able 
to deliver our baby if we were Fleet."

Reg nodded in absent-minded agreement, then the words registered. His eyes flew 
open in shock as he started babbling. "B---B---baby? Us? Baby? Really? We're 
going to have a baby? When? How?"

Marla laughed and stopped the torrent of words with her fingers. "Baby. Yes. Us. 
Really. In six months." Her expression turned sly. "And you know how."

Reg blushed, then chuckled, then hugged Marla. Suddenly he sprang back with a 
concerned look. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked worriedly.

"Of course not," Marla soothed. Then she turned around again, feeling Reg's body 
against her back. His hands immediately cupped her belly---so carefully. She 
sighed in contentment, resting her arms over his as they watched the stars come 
out.

************************************************************
************************************************************

Geordi LaForge nervously ran his hand over his hair, straightened his tunic, 
shifted the padds on the desk in front of him. He wanted to make a good 
impression.

He hadn't been all that surprised when Kathryn was nominated for President of 
the Federation Council. But he'd been floored by his own invitation to run for 
VP. His only ambition had been to help people. Years ago, a position on the 
Council had seemed the best way to accomplish his goal. But now he could find 
himself with more power than he'd ever imagined.

He wasn't so sure he wanted it.

But he would do his duty, just as he had since he'd first sworn to serve the 
citizens under his jurisdiction. There would simply be a great deal more of them 
now.

Or rather, there might be. Elections were in a week. He'd outlined his 
qualifications and plans before everyone on Earth---and via commlink the entire 
Federation---a few days ago.

Now it was business as usual. Hence his nervousness. He was in charge of 
recruiting experts from a variety of fields for a Federation-wide task force. 
They were going to be surveying the non-Terran worlds to determine what monies 
and other resources were needed to bring all Federation planets into parity. Or 
at least to guarantee a respectable standard of living and quality of life for 
all inhabitants.

Reg and Marla were his first choices for the technology reps, but he knew that 
Will Riker was trying to entice them back into the Fleet. So he had sent out 
some feelers for other likely candidates. He was waiting to interview the first 
person on his list.

Geordi's musings were interrupted by the opening of the door. He stood and moved 
around to greet his visitor. "Dr. Brahms?"

"Leah, please." The dark-haired woman approached the Councilor and stretched out 
a hand. "If things work out, we'll be colleagues." She offered a smile.

Geordi met the hand and smile with his own, his face brightening. He preferred 
things to be informal himself, and they could be spending a lot of time 
together.

They both gasped at the electricity that flowed at the clasp of their fingers. 
They stared at each other, stunned.

Leah looked more closely at the Councilor. She'd known he was handsome, and the 
mix of earnestness and enthusiasm she'd observed in his public personality was 
very appealing. She'd read up on his background before accepting the invitation 
to discuss a position on the task force, and he'd earned her respect.

There had been a vague sense of anticipation, but Leah never expected such an 
intense reaction---attraction. Her lips parted in surprise, but she couldn't 
think of anything to say. A blush crept up her face.

Geordi tightened his grip on the delicate hand in his. This woman drew his 
attention like a magnet, irresistible. While Leah's serene beauty was clear from 
her picture, the sudden fierce need to hold her, to learn everything about her, 
was something he'd never dreamed of. "Leah," he said softly, savoring the name. 
"I'm Geordi. It's very good to meet you."

The interview was one to remember.

***************

"Rosera, is Uncle Chakotay mad at us?" Jelene gave her elder a sidelong glance 
from where she was perched on a bale of hay, legs swinging.

Lakanta looked up from where he was pointing out to the other children and 
Gerron Tem the various animals on his farm. His expression was concerned as he 
met first Tem's, then Rosera's eyes.

Rosera walked over and slid her arm around the girl's shoulders. "Why would you 
think that, little one?" She noticed Koral and the boys had also fallen silent.

"Well, he woke up days ago, but he won't talk to us or tell us stories. He won't 
even let us see him." Jelene's lower lip trembled as she voiced her fear. "Maybe 
he's not happy that he has to take care of us."

"Oh no, Jelene, it's not like that at all." Rosera cupped the child's chin in 
one hand and tilted it until uncertain dark eyes met her own. "Your uncle is 
very sick. You know how you want to hide in your bed under the covers when your 
tummy hurts? Well, your uncle is feeling a lot worse than that. He's afraid he 
might snap at you when he doesn't mean to, so he wants you to stay away until 
he's better."

"Tom gets to see him," Koral pointed out, her expression mulish. She crossed her 
arms. "And *he's* not related or anything."

"Mr. Paris---Tom---knows how to take care of people when they're sick." Tem's 
gaze traveled from one twin to the other. "When Emperor Jean-Luc Picard was ill, 
he liked to have Tom sit with him sometimes to make him feel better." He 
shrugged. "Maybe Tom's helping Chakotay the same way."

Lucien piped up, "And your uncle *is* sending you messages every day. And 
arranging trips and stuff, like coming here."

Lakanta walked over and bestowed a kiss on each girl's cheek. "Trust me, 
Chakotay is doing what's best for you." He squatted so he was at their level and 
grinned at them. "He can be worse than a bear with a sore paw when he's not 
feeling well. I can remember him breaking his leg when he was a kid---I never 
heard so much whining in all my life. My ears hurt for days."

All the kids giggled at the image and the atmosphere lifted. "Come on," Rosera 
said, glancing at her watch. "We're supposed to go to Anthwara's for lunch. He 
wants the off-worlders---" she gave the boys a wink "---to taste some real 
Dorvan home cooking."

A chorus of okays accompanied them away from the barn. Lakanta lagged behind, 
holding a silent argument with himself. As he lifted his eyes he happened to see 
Gerron Tem walking directly in front of him. He gave a quiet sigh of 
frustration.

He was attracted to the slender Bajoran. He sensed in the alien a toughness of 
mind and character that belied the delicate face and form. The combination of 
vulnerability and guts he sensed in the younger man enticed him, stirred him 
more than anyone he had ever met on Dorvan.

But Lakanta was also one of those tribesmen who was fiercely devoted to the old 
ways. He'd been pretty open in his resentment of Tom Paris when the newcomers 
first arrived. He thought the Terran was arrogant, sweeping in with his 
technology and his aliens and his claim on Chakotay's life and heart.

Still, Lakanta had acquiesced to the spirits' decree of Paris's place on Dorvan. 
He'd helped build the warehouse and place the holo-emitters that were right now 
providing Chakotay with some small bit of comfort in his suffering.

And eventually he'd shaken the blinders from his eyes and the chip off his 
shoulder and gotten to know the exotic strangers who had taken up residence on 
his planet.

A few annoyed him, but he liked most of them. One he more than liked.

Which brought him back to thoughts of Tem. Should he risk offering friendship to 
the Bajoran? More than just friendship? If so, how much more?

Bumping into the object of his musings startled Lakanta out of them. "I'm 
sorry," he said, quickly backing away, "I should pay attention to where I'm 
going."

Tem turned and regarded the Dorvan. He was a few years older than Tem, strong 
and graceful like all of Chakotay's people. Tem blushed a little as he recalled 
the rather steamy daydreams he'd been having recently. All starring this 
strapping warrior. His mind groped for something to say. "That's all right. You 
were worrying about the girls, weren't you?"

"Um, yes. The girls. Exactly." Lakanta eagerly accepted the excuse. "I hope this 
friend of Chakotay's arrives soon. I don't like the idea of the girls doubting 
their place in his home."

"Yes." Tem nodded gravely. "Especially after all they've been through." He 
cleared his throat nervously. "But they appear to have bounced back really well. 
You Dorvans must be pretty tough."

"Yes, well, I'm sure Bajorans are too." Lakanta sidled over. "Living under the 
Dominion and all."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Tem shrugged. "But a lot of us fled the invasion. 
Unfortunately, a lot of us also got caught by slavers and ended up in chains 
anyway." He looked away a moment, into the coincidences and quirks of fate that 
shaped his past. "I was really lucky Tom bought me, and was willing to free me."

"Would you tell me about your experiences sometime?" Lakanta made his decision. 
He stepped even closer and laid one hand on Tem's arm. "Maybe---maybe over 
dinner?" He tensed as he awaited an answer.

Tem was relieved to see the stiffness in Lakanta's body. It let him know he 
wasn't the only one anxious and aware of the spark between them. He smiled and 
rested his hand on his companion's. "I'd like that a lot."

Lakanta nodded, feeling the anticipation begin to bubble in his veins. "Good," 
he said, then turned to follow the rest of the group.

Tem's smile widened when he felt fingers fumble a moment, then tangle with his 
own to tug him along. He was so very glad he'd decided to stay on Dorvan.

***************

"So, are you going to make Mark call you 'Madame President' when you're alone?" 
Kate's eyes twinkled as she caught the blush on Kathryn's cheeks. Her teasing 
smile turned more sly with confirmation of her suspicions.

"Aren't you a little premature in your diagnosis, Doctor?" Kathryn retorted. She 
leaned back in her chair in the garden, one arm sweeping into a vague gesture. 
"The elections haven't even started, much less all the votes been tallied."

Kate snorted. "Oh please. Who else will folks trust to lead the Federation 
Council? You've been ensconced in that cushy seat for more than a decade."

Kathryn's expression grew troubled as she looked down, as if seeking a vision of 
the past or future in her coffee. "I keep wondering why people don't ask me 
about that."

The older woman's brows drew together as she sensed the change in mood. "Ask 
what, Kathryn?"

The Councilor sighed, her fingers tightening around her cup. "About why I let 
slavery continue so long. Why I didn't stop the barbarity of the gladiator 
games. Why I didn't lift a finger to prevent Julian from murdering his political 
rivals and critics. Why---"

"The people aren't stupid, that's why. What makes you think they've suddenly 
forgotten the Empire?" Kate leaned onto her elbows, her gaze piercing. "You can 
just end the guilt trip here and now, lady. You did what you could to help, to 
be a voice for truth and equality on the Council. Hell, only Jean-Luc's 
influence kept you from slavery or assassination. And when Julian Bashir 
*Bastard* Picard took the throne, you worked to depose him and re-establish the 
Federation."

Kate threw up her hands in exasperation. "What more do you think people want? 
Blood?"

"Maybe, considering I never had to shed any in the cause." Kathryn looked at her 
longtime friend. "I can't help thinking I got off really easy in this, Kate. I 
lived very well in Imperial favor. It's true I risked my career, maybe my 
freedom in the plan to restore the Federation. But the cold hard fact is I spent 
maybe four hours in the Colosseum prison. There were a lot of people who died---
*died*, Kate---because they didn't have the protections I did." Her voice 
dropped. "And in the end, I couldn't even take the stand by myself. I hid behind 
Admiral Chakotay. And he paid the price."

Kate's sigh was a concession. "We're all guilty of that, Kathryn. Beating 
yourself up over the fact that a good man is suffering won't help him. And I 
don't think he'd like what you're saying. In a way, it's an insult to him to 
involve *him* in *your* proclivity to self-flagellate."

Kathryn's eyes slid over to regard her companion. Her lips quirked into a rueful 
half-smile. "I didn't think you knew big words like that."

Kate grinned. "Hey, I'm not just a pretty face." She tilted her head. "So, no 
more self-pity parties?"

"Okay, I'm done. You're right, I did the best I could, and I should just 
continue to do the best I can. For everyone in the Federation." Kathryn 
shrugged. "Assuming, of course, I win."

"Well, you've got my vote." Kate slouched comfortably into her chair and took a 
sip of her drink. "So answer my question: Will you be 'Madame President' in the 
budoir with the dashing Dr. Johnson?"

"Kate!"

***************

Tom wiped his sweaty palms on his slacks. He was standing alone outside the 
building housing Chakotay and the others. Only the discipline born of a thousand 
diplomatic functions kept him from fidgeting as he waited for the new arrivals 
to beam down from Voyager.

He was alone by request. Even the Dorvans had stayed home today, recognizing the 
importance of this meeting in Tom's anxious eyes as he asked for their absence.

There was so much riding on the shoulders of the people about to arrive. Tom had 
come to realize how truly bad Chakotay's situation was in the last few days.

Tom was amazed at his beloved's fortitude. Since they'd had their moment of 
reckoning, Chakotay had allowed Tom to be a constant visitor. Tom had seen 
firsthand the older man's efforts to keep up his spirits in the face of his 
condition. The constant pain Chakotay felt kept him from sleeping well, or long. 
The stress and deprivation were starting to take their toll. Chakotay was a 
strong man, but eventually he would succumb to their effects and weaken.

Unless this plan worked. Tom desperately hoped it would.

He straightened as two figures shimmered into existence before him. "Tuvok," he 
said, his face brightening in welcome. He stepped forward, turning to the lovely 
woman at his side. "And you must be T'Pel. Welcome to Dorvan."

***************

Tuvok entered Chakotay's room, noting the lines of strain marking the former 
gladiator's face. Also obvious was the warmth in the dark eyes that lit at his 
appearance.

"It's good to see you, Tuvok," Chakotay said as he gave a small smile. "I very 
much appreciate you abandoning your family so soon after your return."

"I did not leave all of them behind." Tuvok turned to indicate his companion. 
"This is T'Pel, she who is my wife."

The Vulcan woman glided forward and gave a small bow. "I am honored to meet 
you." Her dark eyes expressed her compassion for the man sitting up in bed. "It 
is thanks to you my children still have a father."

"I wasn't alone in that. Tuvok proved himself most able in combat." Chakotay 
nodded toward Tom and the silent EMH. "You've met Tom, and this is the Doctor." 
He glanced at his beloved a moment, noting the tension in the slim body. Then he 
took a breath and looked at Tuvok. "Have you considered my request?" he asked, 
trying to steel himself for the reply.

"Of course, Chakotay." Tuvok walked over and stood next to the bed. "It is a 
most intriguing idea."

"I think it is a ludicrous one." The Doc's expression reflected his disbelief. 
"Chakotay's nervous system is being overstimulated, the neurons and pain 
receptors constantly firing. The damage is organic, a result of the poisoning. I 
don't understand how some mental mumbo jumbo is going to make a difference."

Chakotay's lips quirked. "I'll explain it again, Doc. I remembered Tuvok 
mentioning one night that he had undergone the ritual of Kohlinar." Chakotay 
tried to lean forward, winced, and settled back. "From what I understand of 
Vulcan practices, it's an intense discipline of the mind and body, the 
suppression of all emotion."

He sighed. "I'm not looking to deaden or deny my emotions, though. All I'm 
hoping is that if he leads me through the ritual, I can learn to suppress some 
my body's awareness. At least of the pain caused by the toxin. To relegate those 
neural messages to the background, like white noise. Maybe then I can regain my 
ability to feel genuine sensations of pain."

"And pleasure," T'Pel murmured.

"If it works, Tuvok, will Chakotay be able to live a normal life?" Tom sought 
the truth in the serene dark eyes.

The Doc piped up, "If nothing else, it will give us a chance to find out whether 
Chakotay suffers from any genuine paralysis, or his body is simply not moving 
because of the pain it causes."

Tuvok nodded gravely. "That question still remains."

Chakotay asked with equal seriousness, "Will you do it? I'm sorry to force you 
to experience this agony in the mind-meld, but it's the only treatment I could 
think of."

Tuvok regarded his former colleague. "If I had been unwilling to make the 
attempt, I would not have come." He lifted a hand and T'Pel raised her own so 
their fingers touched in an ancient gesture. "But I will ask that T'Pel also 
enter the meld. She is an accomplished healer, and I believe her participation 
will increase our chances of success."

"Of course, whatever you wish." Chakotay swallowed the lump in his throat. 
"T'Pel, it's not going to be easy; are you sure this is what you want to do?"

"To help my husband is my duty." She again allowed her gaze to meet the human's. 
"To aid you, as I have said, is an honor."

Chakotay bowed his head slightly in acceptance and acknowledgement. "Then I'm 
the one who is honored---and grateful. What do we have to do to get ready?"

Tuvok stepped up and laid his hand against specific points on Chakotay's face. 
The discipline and calm that he recalled from their brief contacts as gladiators 
still remained, but the edges were fraying. He frowned as he took stock of 
Chakotay's situation. "It must be soon." He lowered his hand and looked toward 
his wife a moment, then to Tom and the EMH. "If you will show us to our room, we 
will rest and prepare. I suggest that Chakotay does the same. The Kohlinar is 
not an easy or comfortable experience."

"Well in that case I suggest that Mr. Paris plays escort." The EMH briskly 
shooed the trio out the door. "I'm going to take some baseline readings for 
comparison during and after whatever strange activities you have planned." He 
lowered his brows in warning. "Be aware that I will be monitoring my patient's 
vitals every moment."

Tom dredged up a grin, trying to ignore the butterflies wrestling in his 
stomach. "That doesn't sound very restful, Doc." He conceded, "But I know you 
have Chakotay's best interests at heart."

"Not just his." The EMH cleared his throat and ordered gruffly. "So you'll have 
no problem obeying my orders to get some sleep yourself, Tom." He shrugged. "I 
know how draining it is to sit and wait."

"You've certainly seen me do it often enough the last few days." Tom hurried 
over and traced his fingertips ever so lightly across Chakotay's brow. "See you 
soon," he said softly.

"Soon," Chakotay answered, hope and a promise in his eyes.

************************************************************

T'Pel stepped into her meditation robe, covertly eyeing her husband as his 
strong form was encased in his own garment of flowing blue satin. She was not 
given to wild expressions of emotion, but she did feel a certain...completeness 
in seeing her mate hale and whole beside her.

Tuvok's captivity had nearly broken her vaunted Vulcan calm. The shock of his 
arrest, the frustration of Imperial indifference to his innocence, the horror of 
seeing him fighting for his life in the arena all pushed her to her limits. Only 
the love still felt through their marriage bond and the need to be strong for 
her children kept T'Pel's stoic façade in place.

She had cried when he returned to her. Just once, in the privacy of their 
bedroom, in the aftermath of lovemaking so profound they shared both thoughts 
and skin. They were so close in that moment that she sensed Tuvok's gratitude 
for her moment of weakness. They both needed the release of those tears.

They had continued to get to know each other again. Tuvok had not yet chosen his 
path: Vulcan Security, the Fleet, or a new direction unrelated to his previous 
career. Instead, he spent his time appreciating his family and renewing his 
mental energies after his ordeal.

Chakotay's message had startled them into remembering the universe outside their 
little world. T'Pel had been appalled when she learned of the Emperor's vile 
final act, and understood the need for some remedy for Chakotay's agony.

At first she dismissed the idea though, citing humanity's proclivity for 
unrestrained emotion. But her husband's description of the order and control of 
Chakotay's thoughts convinced her that it was at least worth a try. She had 
become intrigued by the idea of a human attempting a Vulcan healing technique.

So she suggested to Tuvok that they both enter the meld. Her greater knowledge 
of the workings of the body---she'd made sure she familiarized herself with the 
differences in a human one---might be a way to direct their efforts and measure 
the effects.

She sealed the last fastening. They would soon find out.

***************

Tuvok privately admitted to a sense of satisfaction at feeling his mate's eyes 
upon him. He held out his arm to escort her to Chakotay's room, and inwardly 
smiled when she took it without hesitation.

He knew the public contact was unusual, but not unheard of, among Vulcans. He 
simply wanted to know she was near physically, not just as a light in the back 
of his mind. It calmed and reassured him in a visceral way no mental discipline 
could match.

The life of a gladiator---the constant edgy need to look over his shoulder, the 
reflexive tensing at the approach of another being---were finally beginning to 
fade. He'd never been exposed to so much violence during his years as a security 
officer, and he wondered now if it would be wise to even contemplate a return to 
that life.

He suspected he'd be bored after all the excitement.

It was intriguing to have so many possibilities before him. He could start a 
completely new career, perhaps even return to the university. After facing down 
bat'leth-wielding Klingons, the raised eyebrows of his fellow students would be 
nothing.

One thing he was sure of: he wouldn't be taking a position in the Fleet. He'd 
been away from his family long enough. And he'd never be separated from T'Pel 
again. Not by choice.

He rested his other hand on his wife's arm a moment, giving it a small squeeze 
before the door to Chakotay's room opened.

************************************************************

Tom paced, avoiding B'Elanna's and Harry's legs as he circled the sofa. He 
deftly wound around Sisko and Kassidy as his steps marked the corners of the 
waiting room.

He was glad the couple had returned from their errands so quickly. He also 
appreciated that their presence, and support, was silent.

Platitudes and pep talks would have driven him crazy. He'd already been kicked 
out of Chakotay's room. Tom had finally lost his cool now that the attempt to 
help the older man was finally occurring. His fidgeting and "disruptive mental 
and emotional distress" had bothered the Vulcans enough to ask him to go 
elsewhere.

He'd tried spending time with the kids, but then Sue, Greg, and Tem had quietly 
taken him aside and said his ill-concealed agitation was upsetting the twins and 
Lucien.

Tom tried seeking the solace of his spirit guide, but couldn't seem to calm down 
enough to achieve a meditative state.

He had considered crashing the Dorvans' ritual to direct healing energy to aid 
Chakotay, but knew he wouldn't be able to go out of earshot. He needed to know 
the results immediately, be they good or bad.

"Tom, why don't you sit down," Harry suggested from his spot next to B'Elanna. 
He felt intense sympathy for the older man. Harry admired, respected and very 
much missed Chakotay, but he knew that the feelings were nothing compared to the 
devastation that would engulf him if it were his B'El in such pain.

Blue eyes flashed with annoyance a moment, then filled with rueful 
embarrassment. "I can't," Tom admitted, "I'm afraid I'll explode."

B'Elanna nodded in silent understanding. She was amazed at her own sense of 
well-being, of energized calm. She was ready to act to help her ailing friend, 
but she was also content to wait until he requested her aid or presence. She 
snuggled closer to Harry, feeling at peace in his embrace.

Sisko and Kassidy exchanged knowing glances. They could feel the air vibrating 
around Tom, he was so tense. They'd attempted to feed him earlier but Tom took 
only a few bites before he pushed the plate away. They'd managed to get him to 
drink some fluids every few hours, but that was the best they could do. They 
knew that Tom would eat, and rest, when he knew Chakotay's fate. The same as 
everyone else.

Suddenly the door opened.

***************

The Doc automatically stumbled back as a gold-topped blur dashed into the room. 
He smiled as Tom skidded to a stop, his eyes full of questions.

Tom immediately relaxed at the understanding expression on the curmudgeonly 
hologram's face. His gaze took in two very weary-looking Vulcans. They were 
calmly standing up from where they'd been perched on either side of Chakotay's 
bed.

Chakotay himself had his eyes closed. His body was completely still, barely 
breathing.

Tom swiftly took his place at his beloved's side and reached out, but stopped 
himself just before his fingers could brush one bronze cheek. "Chakotay?" he 
whispered.

When the brown eyes opened Tom almost shouted for joy. They were still shadowed 
with exhaustion, but most of the pain that had dulled their dark depths was 
gone. Pale fingers twitched, slid that fraction of a centimeter closer and made 
contact.

Chakotay smiled and without warning reached up to pull the slim body into his 
embrace. He sank his fingers into the red-gold waves of Tom's hair, holding him 
in place to receive a kiss that answered all of Tom's questions, soothed all of 
his fears.

And kindled all of his desires. Tom felt his toes and hair curling as his mouth 
was claimed by full lips that explored his with both tenderness and passion. By 
the time he was released he was moaning for more, sprawled over the older man 
like a long-limbed blanket. "Chakotay," he breathed in wonder and relief, 
feeling strong arms close around him.

"Tom." Chakotay answered the call of the heart that sounded clear in the younger 
man's voice. He closed his eyes a moment, savoring the lightness and peace and 
freedom from pain he had managed to achieve in the meld. His lids opened and he 
looked to the Vulcan couple who had made his life bearable again, all futures 
possible. "Thank you," he said simply, knowing that they understood more than 
the words.

Tuvok and T'Pel bowed. "You are welcome," Tuvok said, knowing that Chakotay had 
done most of the work. They had been his guides, helping him unleash the 
potential within himself. He was a most remarkable man.

"Well, as much as I hate to break up this little lovefest, it's time for you to 
all let my patient sleep." The Doc laid a gentle hand on Tom's shoulder blade. 
"Please, Tom. It's been a difficult day, and Chakotay still has a long recovery 
ahead of him."

Tom reluctantly shifted off the bed, his fingers trailing down Chakotay's arm to 
clasp his hand a moment. Anxious blue eyes sought beloved brown. "Are you really 
going to be okay now?"

The Doc answered before Chakotay could tire himself further with explanations. 
"The damage still exists within the neural system, but it no longer seems to be 
having a deleterious impact. The paralysis, fortunately, was not actual but 
merely a side effect of the overstimulation."

The Doc indicated Tuvok and T'Pel. "I don't understand how they managed it, but 
their treatment---however unorthodox---seems to have achieved what medical 
science could not. Chakotay will need some remedial training in walking and 
other activities to relearn his motor skills, but I can now foresee a full 
recovery."

Tom gave the hand in his a little squeeze. He smiled when Chakotay's expression 
didn't change to one of pain. He pressed a quick kiss to Chakotay's lips, then 
turned to the exit, eager to spread the good news.

Chakotay was going to be all right.

TBC