GRAVITAS

Title: Gravitas, 23/26
Author: Jaye (Copyright March 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-THREE

Tom took inventory as he stood in Chakotay's bathroom. He was clean, inside and 
out. His robe was neatly and securely fastened. Beard suppressed, teeth brushed, 
face washed, hair combed.

With a sigh he glanced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He looked 
terrified.

He shook his head in an attempt to dispel his unease. It wasn't as though he was 
about to face some horrible ordeal. He was simply going to lie beside the man he 
loved. The same man he'd been swapping spit with for days.

But this was different. This was *bed*. And *sleeping together*. Even if it was 
just going to be sleeping.

This was a kind of milestone, a marker in their long strange journey to each 
other. There were no more hurdles to vault, obstacles to overcome, barriers to 
breach. Nothing stood between them anymore. Not even clothes, unless Tom wore 
them.

At night, Chakotay usually slept in the nude.

That tidbit had aroused and alarmed Tom in the same instant. He was a little 
shocked as well to hear that many people on Dorvan did the same. And it was no 
big deal. Kids simply knew not to lift the sheet or blanket if they were 
stealing into their parents' room.

Tom glanced at the sprigs of hair visible between the lapels of his robe. He was 
in pretty good shape; he certainly had nothing to be ashamed of. It was 
just...it had been such a long time since he'd been so intimate with anyone. 
Since Annika's death.

And Tom had yearned hopelessly for Chakotay's love, to be enfolded in that 
strong embrace, since he was a teenager.

Chakotay had left his mark upon Tom's heart that night he'd pressed a hand to 
Tom's chest and refused his advances. In their decade apart his once-frantic 
desire had faded to a bittersweet ache.

But their too-brief time together after meeting again had sharpened Tom's 
feelings for the bronze warrior. The need for him had become like thirst, like 
hunger, like breath and blood. An elemental requirement for Tom's very being.

That need had driven Tom to take risks, dare things he'd never considered 
before. To prove himself worthy of the love of such a remarkable man.

And somehow Tom had succeeded. It was a little disconcerting to know Chakotay 
was finally his.

But it was absolutely terrifying to realize that *he* was Chakotay's: body, 
heart, mind, soul.

And yet...scared as he was, he wanted this more than anything in his life.

Tom glanced up again, and the man in the mirror looked back with anticipation 
tempering the fear.

It would have to do. Chakotay was waiting.

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

Chakotay looked up from his contemplation of his robe-covered knees, watching 
from his seat on the side of the bed as Tom entered. He was struck again by how 
different Tom was from the youth who had propositioned him all those years ago. 
Guileless desire and winsome charm had limned the vision of the teenage Tom, 
lying tucked in a corner of Chakotay's mind. Yet the memory paled in comparison 
to reality.

This Tom was an adult, a man who had lived, and loved, and lost. Who had 
survived a decade enmeshed in Imperial splendor and deceit with his integrity 
intact.

The face and form had become even more attractive, but it was Tom's soul that 
held Chakotay enthralled. His spirit, strong and shining. Chakotay would for the 
rest of his life be grateful to see the light of love in those clear blue eyes. 
To know that his feelings found their match in so wonderful a man.

He smiled in welcome, but his expression sobered as his lover approached. 
Concern furrowed his brow. "Your hands are shaking." He met Tom's gaze. "Are you 
afraid?"

"No." Tom folded his arms, ducked his head, looked at the older man through his 
lashes. "Yes, a little," he admitted, his voice low and embarrassed.

Chakotay reached up and tugged on Tom's elbow. He turned to face Tom as the 
younger man sat beside him. He leaned in and confided, "I am too." He pulled 
back to see amazement on the pale countenance.

"What? Why? You've done this before, right?" Some of Tom's trepidation faded 
into curiosity.

Chakotay's head tilted as he considered the questions. "Done this? Shared a 
bed?---Yes, but not since the last time I was on Dorvan." Grief briefly twisted 
his features before the lines smoothed out again. "Slept with a man?---Also yes, 
but it's been more than ten years. Loved you?"

A tender smile lit his face. "Yes again, before and still." He picked up one of 
Tom's hands, feeling the faint tremor. "Which is why I'm so scared of screwing 
this up." He leaned forward again and offered, "We don't have to take this step 
tonight, Tom. Or tomorrow, or even next month. Not until you're ready, and 
sure."

Now Tom's expression twisted in confusion. "I thought you wanted to sleep 
together."

"I did, and I do." One of Chakotay's hands drifted to cup Tom's shoulder, trying 
to convey earnestness, support, understanding, love, and all of the other 
emotions that tangled together made up the bond the men shared. "But Tom, I love 
you. I think you claimed your place in my heart the day you fell out of that air 
vent." His eyes twinkled a moment with warm reminiscence. "And you're not going 
to forfeit it because you want to wait a while longer to share a bed, or even a 
life with me."

His fingers tightened, ever so slightly. "You won't lose me until the day I die. 
And you can be sure that even on the spirit plane I'll feel the same for you. So 
please don't force yourself to do *anything* just because you think it's what I 
expect. All I want is for you to have no regrets."

The caring and love seemed to shimmer in the air around Chakotay, so strongly 
did Tom sense them. "There will be no refusals," Tom's smile shared his own 
recollection, his of a night forever etched on his mind. "And no regrets." He 
kissed Chakotay very softly on the lips. "I love you. Let's go to bed."

Tom stood and helped Chakotay to his feet, steadying him as they shrugged off 
their robes. He was struck by the sight of sleek tawny skin sliding over muscles 
hardened by toil and battle.

Chakotay was beautiful, like the paragons of male power who inspired the 
sculptors of Earth through the centuries. A living bronze, but one whose eyes 
were all too human in their vulnerability, in the willingness to admit love, to 
show trust. Tom was humbled as he closed his beloved in the gentlest of 
embraces, his head resting on a broad shoulder, feeling the soft skin warm 
beneath his cheek.

The shivering of the body in his arms told Chakotay that Tom was yet uncertain. 
That the younger man was plowing forward anyway was pure Tom Paris. A sudden 
surge of emotion closed Chakotay's lids as he returned the hug. But his mind's 
eye arrayed his lover before him once more.

Tom's muscles and sinews were lean and long, their wiry strength evident even in 
stillness. His skin was pale, and dusted with hairs that had darkened from the 
blond fuzziness of youth to a rich red-gold. The sprinkling along Tom's gilded 
limbs, the line of glinting hair decorating his torso, all seemed appropriate. A 
clear sign to all fortunate enough to see Tom of how precious he was.

The couple's hands drifted slowly over each other, stroking, learning texture 
and shape. Their touches weren't intended to arouse, but to comfort, to connect, 
to offer a visceral reassurance that this moment was real.

Neither man knew how long they stood in their silent communion, but eventually 
Tom's nervous shaking stopped and Chakotay's fatigued trembling started. With a 
last clasp, Tom turned them and supported his lover as the older man settled 
under the covers.

Tom's face flushed at Chakotay's scrutiny as he circled the bed to reach his own 
side of the mattress. "See something interesting?" he asked, taking refuge in 
flippancy.

Chakotay grinned and opened his arms as his lean partner slithered in beside 
him. "Just enjoying the view. I have a sneaking suspicion that it's one I will 
never tire of."

A wry smile quirked Tom's lips as he felt a boneless relaxation steal over 
Chakotay. Despite the earlier nap, his man was worn out and ready to head to 
dreamland. "Then we'd better get you back in full health soon so you're the one 
strutting your stuff. Turnabout is fair play, you know."

Chakotay's chuckle was husky. "Does that mean you'll be prancing around in a 
skimpy tunic and sandals for months for my visual delectation?"

All of Tom's residual fears receded as the bubble of happiness in his chest 
expanded to warm his belly and fill his throat and prickle his eyes. "Not just 
visual," he murmured, his arms squeezing their promise.

"I'll hold you to it," Chakotay whispered, and held his love close to his heart 
as he shared the tale of Neelix and Kes until sleep claimed them.

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

Harry gave a last gasp as he rolled off B'Elanna and onto his back beside her. 
He fumbled to entwine their fingers. His head turned to admire the sleek lines 
of her body shining with sweat. He was still amazed that this brilliant 
engineer, this fierce gladiator, this beautiful woman, had joined her life to 
his.

B'Elanna's nostrils flared, inhaling the scent of their musk. She glanced at her 
lover with a fierce grin. She hadn't expected to enjoy sex so much. Harry had 
proven himself well able to keep up with her needs, and her moods.

She was even more surprised at the way her fighting spirit embraced their union. 
They clicked in work and play, striking sparks and chords on many levels. Even 
in the quiet moments. The talk and soft touches, the closeness they shared, 
soothed and nurtured some aspect of herself she didn't quite recognize. Yet it 
felt good. *She* felt...complete.

B'Elanna gripped the hand around hers. "How are you doing there, Fleeter?" she 
teased.

"Not too bad, warrior woman." Harry smiled and reached over to brush the backs 
of his fingers across her brow ridges. "I'm sure I'll live, but if I didn't, let 
me just say, 'what a way to go'."

B'Elanna laughed in delight and rolled to rest on top of his strong, compact 
body. They were well matched, in all ways. "I'm glad to hear you'll recover. 
It's nice to know you've decided to stick around for a while."

Harry sobered, his dark eyes searching hers in the dimness. "For always, my 
B'El." He stared at her. "You don't believe me?"

B'Elanna's face clouded. She wanted to trust Harry. He seemed a man of honor. 
But he also came from a background and inhabited a world of privilege that she 
had no understanding of. She dropped her eyes to her fingertips as she traced 
patterns in the moisture beaded on his chest. "I think you believe it," she 
whispered.

Harry laid one hand on B'Elanna's hip as the other captured her chin. "B'Elanna, 
I need *you* to believe it. To know that I love you, that I'm going to be with 
you for the rest of our lives." He shifted to cradle a sharply-drawn cheek. 
"Love needs trust. Without it---" his expression saddened as his voice dropped 
"---without it we won't survive."

"Oh Harry," B'Elanna sighed, her distress clear. "I'm sure in my heart that you 
wouldn't tell me something if you didn't mean it. I just...I'm afraid."

She swallowed and confessed, "I've been alone for most of my life. Depended only 
on myself. But...I like the way you make me feel. The way we fit." She looked 
into Harry's understanding face. "I don't want to *need* you, Harry. But I do, 
so much. Too much." Her breath came out in a rush. "I love you."

Harry felt a warmth bloom in his chest at B'Elanna's declaration. He firmly set 
her aside as he rose and knelt beside her. He grabbed her left hand in his 
right, resting his palm against the back of her hand and curling their fingers 
together. Squeezing as hard as he could, breaking the skin as her nails cut her 
palm, he muttered the words of an ancient Klingon ritual.

"What?!?" B'Elanna recognized the vow of marriage in her native tongue. Shock 
widened her eyes even as joy filled her. For Harry to speak those phrases meant 
he understood the promise he was making, bound in blood for all time. She was 
overcome with a fierce sense of rightness that came from a part of her soul 
she'd only vaguely glimpsed in Harry's company.

Not Klingon or human, but woman. Herself. B'Elanna Torres. Who in this moment 
chose to be the lifemate of Harry Kim.

She smiled as she shifted their hands to mark his palm with her nails in an 
acceptance of his suit. She then answered him, in Standard, using the words of 
human tradition. A vow to love, and honor, and cherish. Until death parted them.

Then they kissed as they pressed their bleeding palms together, sharing blood, 
sharing breath. Knowing that they were joined. For the rest of their days.

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

Tem leaned into Lakanta's body, relishing the warmth and strength of the arms 
surrounding him. Their kiss seemed to go on forever, yet ended much too quickly 
as the Dorvan leaned away to drop a last peck on Tem's nose ridges.

Lakanta smiled at the younger man's moonlit beauty. "You'd better get inside 
before they send out search parties."

Tem straightened as his lips formed a small moue of annoyance. "I was perfectly 
content to spend the night curled up in front of your fire. You didn't have to 
send me packing."

Long hair silvered by the moon flopped across Lakanta's shoulders as he shook 
his head. "Yes, I did. It wouldn't have been proper for us to spend the night 
together so soon. We've been dating for less than a month." He looked at Tem, 
hoping that the younger man wouldn't laugh at his old-fashioned ways. "I want to 
do this right."

Tem was touched by Lakanta's stubborn courtesy. It spoke of respect, and caring. 
He smiled and lifted a hand to toy with a lock of the other man's hair. "And 
that's important to you?"

"Yes." Lakanta took a deep breath and opened up a little more. "Because *you're* 
important to me."

Tem embraced his warrior once more, lifting on tiptoe to whisper, "And because 
you mean just as much to me, I'm going to go alone to my room right now and 
dream of you. Walking across moonlit fields, traveling the path to your house, 
getting ready for bed. Wishing I could be with you."

Lakanta brushed his lips across Tem's brow as the Bajoran drew away. He lifted a 
hand to answer his companion's wave. When he could no longer see Tem he 
murmured, "I'll be dreaming of you too."

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

Sue watched her husband pace the confines of their room. "Greg, it's all right. 
I knew we weren't going to stay here forever. So did the boys."

A large hand ran agitatedly through rumpled black hair. "I know, I know," Greg 
threw over his shoulder as he walked back and forth in front of where Sue sat on 
the bed. "It's just...he's not letting me do anything to help."

"That isn't true and you know it, Greg." Sue stood and blocked his path. She 
clutched his shoulders. "You've done a lot in the time we've been here---and 
before." Her features softened as the depth of his anguish registered. "He's not 
punishing you, Greg. He forgave you."

"He told me he was sorry for having to ask me to go away." Greg's voice faltered 
as his expression crumpled. "Chakotay said---he said I was a good man."

"He was right. You are." Sue hugged her husband close to her body, stroking his 
hair. She felt him tuck his face into the crook of her neck, and the hot 
dampness when the tears began to fall. She closed her own eyes in relief. This 
was a necessary release, the draining of a wound that had been festering in 
Greg's spirit for far too long.

She would let him cry, then sleep. And in the morning he would be ready to find 
a new path. To begin life anew, unburdened by the guilt and the grief.

Sue also blessed Chakotay's generous heart, for truly setting Greg's soul free.

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

Celes Tal led the way to the booth they'd reserved. The restaurant was a 
familiar hangout for San Francisco-based media types. It was warm and friendly 
and the food was plentiful, cheap, and delicious.

She flopped onto the bench and regarded her "herem", as the guys were known at 
the office. She considered them as they settled into their seats. Actually, they 
were all good catches: handsome, intelligent, sweet, funny. She doubted she 
could ever choose just one. It would hurt their friendships too much.

That was probably why Jake, Billy, Noah, and Mort never asked to date her. She 
had become too much like a kid sister to them all.

Tal grinned to herself. Prophets help any man who didn't do right by her, with 
so many would-be big brothers to deal with.

"What are you smiling at?" Billy asked, his eyes narrowing in mock suspicion.

"I'm just glad to be out of the office," she replied, leaning back into her seat 
with a sigh. "It's been a hell of day."

"I think it's been a heavenly day," Jake retorted, eyes twinkling at the play on 
words.

"Well, you would," Noah conceded in his soft voice as he fiddled with his water 
glass. "You've got friends in *really* high places now."

"That's right. We're going to have to keep an eye on you." Mort's smile 
indicated this was *not* one of his famous conspiracy theories. "Make sure your 
ego doesn't swell too much at having the ear of the new Federation President."

"Not to mention a passing acquaintance with the VP," Tal pointed out. "And let's 
not forget the Admiral of the Fleet."

"Yep, pretty soon he's going to be *way* too hoity-toity to drink that awful FNN 
coffee." Billy nudged Jake's shoulder. "What with no silver spoon to stir it 
with."

"Enough already!" Jake laughed as he raised his hands to fend them off. "I'm 
just going to point out that if I'm too big for my britches, so are you. We've 
*all* been invited to the Inaugural Gala. And to the wedding."

"That was very kind of Will and Deanna," Noah said with a nod, abandoning the 
Jake-bashing. "But I was really surprised to get the invitation to travel with 
them to Dorvan."

"Yeah, not many people would open up their honeymoon cruise to other 
passengers," Mort chimed in. "Of course, it's not like Voyager doesn't have a 
few extra cabins."

"True," Billy said as he leaned on his elbows. "And I guess it's logical to have 
a Federation ship somewhat close to Bajor for *their* elections." He turned to 
Tal. "Do you know who you're voting for yet?"

Tal's forehead crinkled like her nose as she considered. "Not really. There are 
too many rumors floating around. I think I have to get there and listen to the 
candidates in person, or find out what people really think of them outside sound 
bytes and news vids." She glanced at Jake. "By the way, thanks for arranging so 
we could get paid to go on this jaunt as part of your group."

Jake turned back from accepting their usual pitcher of beer and quintet of 
frosted mugs from the waitress. He shrugged and began pouring. "No problem. It 
made sense to put an FNN team out there for the vote, since the referendum for 
Bajor's entry into the Federation is so soon after." He grinned. "I just hope 
Will doesn't mind the exclusive on his wedding."

"I think he'll be okay with it, as long as there's no visual feed." Billy 
shifted a sly look around the table. "So, folks, who's going to wear traditional 
Betazoid garb?"

"I don't know, what is it?" Tal was surprised to see color mounting in Mort's 
cheeks.

"Uh, um, your birthday suit." Mort took a hasty sip of his beer.

Noah chuckled at Tal's confused look. "The one you were wearing the second you 
were born."

The Bajoran's mouth formed a perfect little o of surprise. Then she shook her 
head vigorously. "Not even on a bet. No way."

Jake waved his hand, dispelling her fears. "Don't worry. The guests don't have 
to be naked. I already checked."

"That's a relief." Mort's tone turned casual. "So, Jake, is FNN going to break 
the news of Admiral Chakotay's whereabouts?"

"What? No, of course not." Jake glanced at his friend. "What makes you think 
they would even know where he is?"

"Well, you're a researcher only recently bumped up to reporter. Yet you're the 
correspondent they send to cover the wedding of the Admiral of the Fleet, *and* 
you get your pick of crew to head out with you to the frontier." Mort lifted his 
eyebrows. "It's not hard to connect the dots and come up with a picture of what 
you maybe gave the brass to close the deal."

Jake snorted. "I didn't give them anything other than what I told you: coverage 
of the wedding and Bajor's elections." At the others' disbelieving stares, his 
eyes dropped. "And maybe a piece on the people behind the hunt for that assassin 
they still haven't found---what's her name, Wynn."

Noah's brows drew together. "Is she that great a threat?"

"She may be," Billy replied quietly. "There are rumors she's been spotted near 
each of the candidates."

Tal looked worried. "That poison she has could do a lot of damage. Jake, you're 
not going to get involved in the investigation, are you?"

Another shrug. "Nah, I'll probably just do the regular one-on-ones with the cops 
and tap my dad for the names of some of his shadier contacts to get the inside 
scoop. But FNN *does* want something big for all the expense they're going to." 
Jake's eyes betrayed his own concern. "I just hope I can deliver."

Mort gave Jake's back a reassuring thump. "Don't worry about it. With this team, 
I'm sure we'll be able to wrap up the case on our own in no time. And then you 
can interview Wynn herself."

"It's in the bag," Noah seconded.

They all raised their mugs, clinked them for good luck, and got down to the 
serious business of deciding what to eat.

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

Garak carefully carried the glasses brimming with canard over to the sofa.

Ziyal reached up to accept one, smiling at her husband. He was practically 
crackling with energy and excitement. "You seem...pleased," she said slyly.

The Legate of Cardassia shot his mate a look of fond exasperation. "Pleased? Are 
you sure you're not overstating things a bit?" He sat down beside her and 
wrapped his arm around her slender shoulders.

Ziyal swung her feet up and to the side to lie along the couch, snuggling down 
against Garak's chest. "No, I don't think so. Kathryn and Geordi kept their 
promise to aid Cardassia. And they were much more generous than expected." She 
sipped her drink, savoring its unique flavor a moment. "Now if we can just put 
the materials and monies to good use, our people will be well on their way to 
recovery."

"Not only us," Garak noted as his fingers slid into his wife's thick hair. "All 
of the rebel worlds will receive some sort of assistance. I think there is a 
Terran precedent, something called a 'Marshall Plan'. I'll admit I really don't 
care what the name is, as long as we can continue to rebuild."

"Still, it took a lot of courage for our friends to be so blunt about their 
intentions before the Federation elections." Ziyal leaned up to look into 
Garak's face. "When you heard their speeches outlining the plan to revamp all 
the formerly second-class worlds of the Federation *and* to aid their beaten 
enemies, did you think they had any chance at all of winning?"

Garak smiled and brushed noses with Ziyal. "Not even an infinitesimal one, my 
dear, as you are well aware. I was already drawing up the bill for Dorvan and 
Bajor, since their people had sworn unconditionally to help us."

Ziyal chuckled. "I figured as much. Still, it's better for everyone if burdens 
are spread among many. Whether you're talking about people or planets."

"I wouldn't have agreed with you, once upon a time." Garak's eyes unfocused as 
he looked into the past. "So many of us were raised with the belief that there 
is always someone beneath you whom you can force to fill your needs. And, as an 
elite member of the state, you have every right to abuse them."

"I know, but things are different now. You're a different person." A gentle 
squeeze of her husband's thigh reinforced Ziyal's words. "And we have a chance 
to make Cardassia a better place. To show our people they don't have to live 
that way."

"Maybe," Garak said. "But it will be a hard journey, and a long one."

"But we've already taken the first steps, Elim, and every small advance brings 
us closer to our goal. We *can* do this. We will. I'm sure of it." Ziyal sat up 
and raised her canard in a toast. "To new beginnings," she said.

"To new beginnings," Garak echoed, and replenished his store of faith and hope 
once again by gazing into the shining eyes of his beloved wife.

They clinked glasses. Then they kissed.

TBC