GRAVITAS

Title: Gravitas, 25/26
Author: Jaye (Copyright June 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-FIVE

B'Elanna and Tuvok sat by the stream's edge, listening to the fast-flowing 
water. They'd met at the door to the warehouse in the early afternoon, and by 
silent agreement made their way to this spot.

"It's strange, isn't it?" B'Elanna suddenly spoke into the quiet.

Tuvok raised an inquiring brow. "What phenomena has led you to make this 
observation?"

"Six months ago I was fighting for my life in the arena. No real future beyond 
the next bout---since each one could very well be my last. No home, no one who 
cared about me..." her voice trailed off as her fingers wandered among the 
blades of grass. "If you had told me then that things would be so different now, 
I'd have laughed in your face."

"Given your predilection for...more physical responses, I highly doubt that 
laughing is all you would have done." Tuvok inhaled, his nostrils flaring 
slightly at the scents of earth and water and flowers in the air. He mused 
reflectively, "But I must agree the likelihood of events progressing as they 
have were marginal at best."

"Yeah." B'Elanna grinned. "Who'd have guessed that when I took a whack at some 
big silent lug in Sisko's practice ring that he'd turn out to be the Admiral of 
the Imperial Fleet?"

"Or a guiding force behind the reinstatement of the Federation," Tuvok noted.

B'Elanna regarded her companion out of the corner of her eye. She said casually, 
"Harry and I are going to start spending time at Sisko's base. Now that Chakotay 
is almost recovered, Harry's beginning the transition to his placement at the 
compound. There's even talk of using it for refresher courses for Fleet 
personnel---help keep them in fighting trim."

Tuvok replied dryly, "Has anyone been made aware that when you 'whip people into 
shape' you sometimes forget the expression is intended to be metaphorical?"

B'Elanna laughed at the subtle reminder of Tuvok's sessions under her tutelage. 
"Hey, you thanked me at the time---despite learning that Vulcans *do* bruise 
easily---at least when fighting with Klingons."

"Or, more precisely, skilled half-Klingons," Tuvok conceded with a slight bow. 
"And I believe that your students will be fortunate indeed to have such a fine 
teacher, both on the practice field and in their engineering classrooms."

Embarrassment flushed B'Elanna's cheeks as she ducked her head shyly. "Thank 
you, Tuvok," she said softly. "It means a lot to me. I want...I want to 
be...worthy."

"Of that, you should have no doubts," Tuvok gently assured her.

They sat in silence a moment, until B'Elanna gathered the courage to broach the 
subject that had been burning in her mind since they reached this secluded 
haven.

"So you're going back to Vulcan?" It wasn't really a question.

"Yes. We will depart immediately after the ceremony for Admiral Riker and 
Counselor Troi. It is illogical for T'Pel and myself to be parted longer from 
our children."

"Have you decided what you'll be doing once you get home?" B'Elanna asked in 
genuine curiosity. She couldn't really picture Tuvok without a sense of purpose, 
or even something as mundane as a job. She knew spending all this time with no 
real occupation would have driven her mad.

"No, nor even if we will stay there. Chakotay mentioned several possible 
scenarios for us both in Trebus, if his plans are brought to fruition." Tuvok 
paused. "They were...intriguing. But we are uncertain if we could settle our 
family here. Vulcan is very different." If he were human, he would have 
shrugged.

"And so are Vulcans," B'Elanna noted. The sharp sense of impending loss made her 
close her eyes. "You'll be missed," she said softly.

"A family created by choice can be as real as one crafted by nature's caprice of 
birth." The statement was not necessarily logical, but true nonetheless. Tuvok 
glanced at B'Elanna, such a complex mix of brash warrior and brilliant woman, 
fierce adult and fearful child. "Distance stretches the bond, but sometimes not 
even death is powerful enough to break it." He reached out and lightly rested 
one hand on her sleeve.

B'Elanna opened her eyes, and stared a moment into the wise gaze of a man more 
than a century her senior. From another world, an alien culture, possessing a 
perspective she could never attempt to understand.

Yet he was kin. Like Chakotay, and Tom, Harry and his parents, even Sisko. 
Family.

She smiled at Tuvok, and he released her with a nod. It was indeed a strange and 
wonderful turn of events that had brought them here.

They sat beside the water for a while longer, the silence comfortable between 
them.

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

Chakotay stood and swayed a moment, finding his footing after sitting in one 
place so long. He gripped the cane in his hand more tightly and felt Tom's 
fingers close lightly around his upper arm. Ready to offer support, but not 
forcing it upon him.

He found his balance and reassured his lover with a small smile. A small squeeze 
sent a silent message of encouragement, then Tom's hand dropped away to let 
Chakotay stand on his own.

Step by careful step, he crossed the wooden floor of the council chamber at 
Solon. The structure mirrored a Habak: conical roof, a fire pit in the center. 
But this building had dozens of small windows marking the top of the circular 
wall, and banks of wooden benches for observers. The room was packed, 
representatives from every tribe and village on Dorvan waiting to hear 
Chakotay's plans for Trebus.

He made his way to the spot traditionally taken by a supplicant to the council. 
A long semi-circular table spread from the point directly across from Chakotay. 
Anthwara held the center chair as head of the ruling body of the planet. There 
was a governmental structure in place for day-to-day operations, but *this* was 
the place major decisions were made.

The old man's eyes told him nothing. Chakotay swallowed and glanced at the rest 
of the tribal leaders, seeing some friendly faces, like Rosera's and Lakanta's. 
Most were neutral, one or two openly hostile.

Chakotay took a deep breath, rested both hands upon the head of his cane, and 
began to speak. "I stand here today as a symbol of many things. A child of 
Dorvan, raised in the ways of our people. A man of space, content to dwell among 
the stars. A one-time leader of the Fleet. A former servant of the Empire. A 
citizen of the New Federation." His gaze touched each councilor in turn. "A 
warrior of the tribes, sworn to defend and protect."

He swallowed, voice roughening. "A flawed man who failed in that most solemn 
duty." His throat closed a moment as he struggled for breath. Eventually 
Chakotay regained his calm and lifted his head once more. "I am also a survivor. 
Of tyranny. Of bloodshed. Of grief and loss. And it is as a survivor that I ask 
you to consider my plans for Trebus."

Some councilors leaned forward, betraying their curiosity. Others narrowed their 
eyes, wary of what Chakotay had in store.

Tom kept his focus on his beloved, willing him support and strength.

Chakotay again looked at each man and woman behind the table, almost uniform in 
the shades of their skin and hair and eyes. "The Trebus we knew is dust and ash 
and blackened bones. Nothing I do, nothing you decide here will change that." He 
lifted one hand, palm up. "We could rebuild Trebus as just another Dorvan 
village, or divide its land among the tribes, or let the wilderness reclaim it. 
But I don't think that's what our loved ones, our lost ones, would have wanted."

The murmurs that stirred to life behind Chakotay abruptly ceased at Anthwara's 
glare. When those dark eyes shifted to make Chakotay their target, he knew at 
least one vote might already be cast against him. Still, he soldiered on. 
"Trebus was unique on Dorvan in its population. Not only did members of the 
tribes dwell there, but also small numbers of Bajorans, Betazoids, and humans 
from throughout the colony worlds."

"A *very* small number," one old woman noted dryly as she adjust her sleeves.

"Granted, but they were there just the same." Chakotay returned both hands to 
his cane, the wood solid and comforting beneath his palm, his braid resting 
lightly against his wrist. "I request that you allow Trebus to continue in that 
tradition---even to expand upon it. To let that ruined village become not a 
painful reminder of Imperial treachery, but a beacon of hope for the people of 
the Federation, especially the frontier. I ask that you allow a university town 
to be built there."

The room erupted. Even several Council members leapt to their feet in surprise.

The voices were so loud and jumbled Tom couldn't tell whether they were for the 
idea or against it. But he was shocked to see Anthwara stand and slam the table, 
the sharp crack of sound cutting through the din and shocking silence over the 
room.

"Enough!" Anthwara yelled, his eyes again flashing with ire. "We will hear from 
the duly elected representatives *when it is time*. Until then, we are 
interested only in the words of the caretaker of Trebus." He sat, his grudging 
gesture returning the floor to Chakotay.

Chakotay spoke not just to the Council now, though he didn't turn to face the 
rest of the room. "I know that Dorvan has maintained its isolation for decades. 
But I also know that more and more of our young people leave each year because 
they yearn to know more than the village they were born into."

His obvious earnestness calmed the spectators even more, as they were persuaded 
to actually *listen* rather than automatically conjure impediments to the plan.

Tom remembered some ancient proverb about prophets and their hometowns and hoped 
it was wrong. He thought it might be in this case, as he let the melodic rise 
and fall of Chakotay's voice soothe his own anxiety. He didn't need to pay 
attention to the details. He already knew them, as Chakotay had asked for Tom's 
help and opinion in crafting this plan. A university that blended the ancient 
and modern, built to last by a unique group of artisans---former slaves 
apprenticed to the craftsmen and women of Dorvan in the hope they would gain 
skills to help other war-ravaged worlds. A university espousing the ideas and 
materials of the past, but also incorporating the cutting-edge of thought and 
technology that was the future. Tom just hoped that the people of Dorvan would 
come to share Chakotay's vision.

But Tom knew that even if they didn't, he and Chakotay would find a way to honor 
the memories of the people of Trebus, whatever form that tribute took.

They deserved no less.

Tom tuned in again as he sensed Chakotay nearing the end of his presentation.

"The Empire destroyed a vast number of lives, broke many families, stole the 
homes and hopes and dreams of countless people. Slavery and strife and death 
have touched every planet on the frontier. I ask that here, on Dorvan, in 
Trebus, we offer a place for new dreams, new lives to begin." Chakotay sighed to 
himself as he regarded the once-again neutral countenances of the council.

He'd done his best. Now it was out of his hands.

Chakotay turned and made his way back to Tom, his steps echoing in the silence. 
Tom stood and together they walked outside to let the people to have their say 
and leave the council to their deliberations.

Tom slid an arm around his lover's waist as they stepped into the orange light 
of late afternoon. They leisurely walked to a borrowed hover car. It was a 
convertible-style that currently had the top down. "We're really going to have 
to get one of these," Tom remarked as he ushered Chakotay into the passenger 
seat with a flourish.

Chakotay grinned and shot Tom a sidelong glance as the younger man circled the 
vehicle and settled behind the controls with unabashed glee. "You're just 
disappointed you can't put this loaner through its paces."

"Damn straight," Tom agreed with a chuckle as he started the engine. "Just 
listen to that purr. This baby is raring to go."

"Hmph. Just remember: You start hot-rodding and *Tem* will be driving once the 
kids are aboard. And since he was planning to stay put and wait for Lakanta, 
he'll be one PO'd Bajoran."

"Prophets forbid." Tom set the vehicle's nose toward Lakanta's farm. He kept the 
pace reasonable, reminding himself that unlike a shuttle, a ground car was more 
vulnerable to the unexpected. But oh, what a joy to be able to pilot himself. He 
was definitely volunteering for the role of family chauffeur.

He put a shuttle at the top of the list of purchases for their new home. And 
definitely a hover car too, as he glanced over to see Chakotay's eyes closed, 
his face tilted into the breeze stirred up by their travel.

Chakotay looked...at peace, the tension of the last few days falling away.

He also looked gorgeous, smiling ever so slightly, eminently kissable. On 
impulse, Tom put the vehicle in neutral, leaning across the seats to plant his 
lips on the full ones that beckoned him irresistibly. One hand slid into soft 
black hair while the other fumbled to find purchase on Chakotay's shoulder. Tom 
sighed his approval as his lover's mouth opened beneath his, granting him access 
to the sweet secrets it contained.

Chakotay smiled into the kiss at the sound of contentment. He shifted, turning 
more fully into the embrace. He began to stroke the long lean back under his 
hands, relearning the angle of shoulder blades, the curve of ribs.

The two men simply sat, necking, enjoying their closeness. Eventually they drew 
apart, panting slightly. Chakotay reached up a thumb to wipe the shine off Tom's 
lips. "What was that for?" he asked with a smile.

"Just because." Tom shrugged, then grasped Chakotay's wrist and snuggled his 
cheek into the older man's palm. He searched softly glowing dark eyes as he 
asked quietly, "What do you think they're going to do?"

"I don't know." Chakotay sighed and lightly pressed his fingertips into the 
corner of Tom's jaw. "I don't know how the other villages reacted to the 
massacre. If they use the incident to paint offworlders as evil, then there's no 
chance at all. If they acknowledge that Julian's power play could have happened 
to any planet, then at least they'll give the university serious consideration."

Tom lowered Chakotay's hand to his lap, entwining their fingers. "I know you 
mentioned it when we started planning, but have so many people really left 
Dorvan?"

"Yes." Chakotay sighed. "Mostly teenagers, like I was. They want to know about 
the cultures they've only heard vague stories about. Some come back to find 
spouses and raise children, but a lot of them feel like they can't live on such 
an isolated planet after being part of the wider universe. I think if they can 
have that access through the university, they'll *choose* to stay and make their 
homes here." He shrugged. "As you said, it's a beautiful place."

"Full of beautiful people," Tom concurred, using his grip on Chakotay's hand to 
pull him forward again. He was surprised when Chakotay pressed his other hand to 
Tom's chest, stopping their lips a few centimeters from each other.

"You said 'full of *interesting* people and ideas', as I recall it. Not 
beautiful," Chakotay teased.

Tom darted his face forward, nipping Chakotay's lower lip. "Then let me amend my 
statement to 'full of interesting ideas and at least one *very* interesting, 
*extremely* handsome, *unbelievably* beautiful, *incredibly* sexy person." The 
tip of his tongue laved the spot he'd abused.

Chakotay chuckled and rubbed noses with his impudent companion. "We've imported 
one of those from Earth too, and he's a saucy thing to boot." With a regretful 
sigh he shifted back to his own side of the car. "We'd better pick up the kids. 
If we leave them at Lakanta's too long they'll figure out a way to smuggle that 
dog *and* all of her puppies to the warehouse."

Tom groaned in agreement and started them moving again. "That's just too likely 
a possibility to ignore. We'll have to pick up this meeting of our private 
mutual admiration society again later."

"Count on it," Chakotay agreed, letting one hand drift over to squeeze Tom's 
thigh. He left it rest there and once more closed his eyes, enjoying the breeze 
and the company, the sense of movement and thoughts of the coming night.

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

Rosera ran her hand behind her neck as she exited a changing hut near the Habak, 
lifting the sweaty strands clinging to her nape. "I'm going to go right from 
here into a cool bath and not get out for *hours*."

Lakanta grinned at her. "Is that a simple statement of intent or a veiled 
request for company?"

The woman's eyes narrowed playfully. "Considering how tightly you're wrapped 
around a certain Bajoran's slender finger, I don't think it's fair for you to 
tease me."

His jaw dropped a moment as he stopped in shock. When he snapped out of it he 
hurried to catch up to Rosera. "What exactly did you mean by that?" he demanded.

Rosera glanced over her shoulder, saw Lakanta's half-angry expression and 
paused. She turned back to face him. "Simply that there is no deception in the 
vision quest. It was easy to sense your heart's yearning for its mate, even 
though the fate of Trebus was this session's purpose." When the tension didn't 
leave the warrior's frame, Rosera tilted her head in confusion. "Aren't you 
pleased the spirits approve of your choice?"

"It's just...I'm just---" Lakanta's frustration puffed out in a sharp breath. 
"I'm starting to think the whole thing is a bad idea. When I'm with him I don't 
feel like myself."

Rosera was grateful for her self-control as she barely suppressed a smile. "Oh? 
And who do you feel like?"

"I don't know---someone less...certain of things. I mean, here I am, one of the 
people who should be dead set against this plan of Chakotay's. But do I do my 
usual spouting about tradition and culture and Dorvan custom? No, I'm too busy 
panting after the first offworlder who comes along."

"Not quite the first, Lakanta." Rosera cupped the younger man's chin, tugging 
his head down so she could meet his confused gaze. "You and I both know that 
this squawking is nothing more than a simple case of cold feet. I don't think 
you've ever been in love quite like this before." She stopped his instinctive 
withdrawal. "Yes---*love*. It makes you vulnerable---so it's natural to be 
scared."

She smiled knowingly. "And it's not that you've lost your conviction, my friend, 
just your anger. That can happen when your perspective broadens, changes. Love 
does *that*, too. But I don't doubt that you are still looking out for Dorvan's 
best interests."

Lakanta succeeding in pulling away this time. "Of course, but---"

"No," Rosera interrupted him firmly. "I'm not going to stand here and listen 
while you talk yourself out of the best thing that's ever happened to you. Go 
home, kiss Tem, look into his eyes and understand that it's true: you're *not* 
quite yourself anymore. Part of you---your heart---belongs to him. And rejoice 
in that." She turned back toward home, ignoring Lakanta as he stood in the path, 
still staring.

After a moment Lakanta shook himself free of his reverie. Reflecting on Rosera's 
words made him shake his head in bemusement. "Some warrior you are, scared of 
love." He chuckled at the absurd turns the mind could take, and set off with a 
quick stride toward home.

To find Tem and fulfill Rosera's orders.

After all, she was a very wise woman.

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

Anthwara sighed as he sank back into his favorite chair, a glass of iced herbal 
tea transferring its coolness to his palms. He sipped the minty brew, letting 
its strong flavor cleanse his palate.

Of what, he wasn't sure. The tang of shock? Bitterness? Disappointment? Fear?

Any one of those emotions, he supposed, perhaps all of them and more.

The spirits had sided with Chakotay.

Preposterous! The very idea of allowing aliens to swarm over this world, 
spreading their beliefs and ideas, bringing foreign flavors and scents and 
sights to what Dorvan had always been.

But the spirits had been clear. And their approval had been echoed by the 
representatives of the people, and most of the Council members.

Change was coming to Dorvan. Whether Anthwara liked it or not.

Yet the elder was not as upset as he had expected to be. Perhaps because the 
aliens who fought so hard for Chakotay had shown themselves willing to live by 
Dorvan law and traditions.

And also because Anthwara trusted that Chakotay would always do what was right. 
For his family, his people, for Dorvan.

Of course, Anthwara would never actually admit that. In fact, tomorrow was soon 
enough to let Chakotay know that Trebus was in hands. And he would also tell 
Chakotay that he would be keeping a close eye on Chakotay's every decision, 
every move, every step of the way.

With that final thought he rose to clean up and make his way to bed.

Satisfied, if not content.

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

"So that's the foreword, Harry---at least the first draft. I'd like for us to 
come up with outlines independently, and see how closely they match." Chakotay 
laid down the old-fashioned journal he'd been reading aloud from and looked 
across the desk at the young officer.

"It's going to be strange not having you on Dorvan all the time." Chakotay said 
with a wistful smile. "But it's for the best. I don't suppose there could be 
much call for a Fleet liaison here. 'Spotty' is probably the best word to 
describe our space traffic."

"That's true, sir," Harry sighed. "Plus I understand the importance of the Fleet 
not unduly influencing the development of Trebus. You're not trying to create a 
frontier version of the Academy."

"No, I'll leave that to you and Sisko," Chakotay conceded, eyes twinkling. "I 
suspect that's our wily friend's long-term goal, but I think he has his work cut 
out for him. He'll have to reshape the entire planetoid."

"I think he's already working on it. It should be an interesting process, but 
one Sisko will manage to bring off." Harry continued with a shrug, "I'm just not 
sure I should know all the details."

"Harry, your wisdom increases every day," Chakotay complimented. He leaned 
forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the desk. "Are you sure it won't be 
a problem to help me with this research? Your plate sounds pretty full---and you 
*are* a newlywed."

"Definitely." Harry's agreement came in the form of an emphatic nod. "I'm 
looking forward to reading this."

Chakotay gave him a small grin. "Well, don't get your hopes up. I'm an ex-
soldier, not a writer."

"But you *are* a storyteller, sir," Harry countered. "And this is definitely a 
story that needs to be told."

"Yes." Chakotay might have said more, but they were interrupted when Tom poked 
his head around the half-open door.

"Hey Cha, the kids are finally asleep. We had a meeting scheduled, remember? 
Bedroom. Now." Tom indicated Harry with a tilt of head. "And I think our friend 
here should report to his lady's chambers ASAP as well." With a flash of red-
gold hair he was gone.

The two men still in the room shared amused looks, complete with matching sets 
of raised eyebrows.

"Well, it sounds like we've been given our marching orders, Harry." Chakotay 
closed the book on his desk, grabbed his cane and stood, making his way with the 
younger man to the door.

He paused just before the exit, laying a hand on Harry's shoulder. He smiled, 
thinking of how a green ensign became such a fine officer. "I know you won't be 
leaving immediately or going very far, but I wanted to thank you, Harry, for 
sticking around all this time. And for everything you did to help, before and 
now. It's been a privilege to know you."

Harry straightened, feeling a flush of pride and embarrassment heat his cheeks. 
He knew he'd never forget the lessons he'd learned from Chakotay, and never be 
able to express how grateful he was simply to have met the man, to have been 
fortunate enough to be mentored by him. He wondered if this was the way Chakotay 
had felt about Jean-Luc Picard. "Thank you, sir. It's been an honor to serve 
with you as well."

"And when you're officially transferred, you'll have to get into the habit of 
calling me Chakotay," Chakotay said as they walked into the hall to rendezvous 
with their beloveds. "That's an order---even if I'm no longer an admiral."

Neither man noticed two omnipotent beings winking into existence in the 
abandoned study.

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

"Did you see him, actually using pen and paper? Veritable antiques in this day 
and age." The female Q flopped herself into the chair Harry had vacated, tossing 
her long red hair over her shoulder and propping her stilettoed feet on the 
desk. "I didn't even think these creatures knew how to make paper anymore."

"This planet isn't all that modern, my dear. You have to take into account their 
penchant for rustic living." Q glanced at his mate as he settled into Chakotay's 
seat and fiddled with the cloth-bound journal. "Besides, I believe Chuckles 
thinks of it as a kind of tribute to Jean-Luc."

Ms. Q waved her hand in a queenly manner. "Well, let's hear what words of wisdom 
he has to offer the masses."

Q opened the book, cleared his throat and began, "I have heard that people see 
me as the instrument of change, akin to the knife that ended Julian Bashir 
Picard's reign by spilling his life's blood on the Colosseum floor. That I am 
the 'liberator of the quadrant', the 'creator of the new Federation'. Nothing 
could be farther from the truth. I am no more than the tip of the blade, the 
merest point on its edge. I would have achieved nothing without a greater force 
of will behind me. The impetus, the momentum, the weight provided by all who 
supported my efforts. People who worked behind the scenes for years, who defied 
the status quo to invoke our better natures and the memories of nobler days. 
Others who suffered and died in the battle to end the corruption of the Empire 
and restore justice, equality, and freedom for all citizens of our commonwealth 
of worlds. *They* are the ones you should thank, and esteem, and mourn. Many of 
them will remain nameless, faceless, their sacrifices lost in time. But in these 
pages I share with you the names I know, of individuals and groups whose actions 
redeemed our past and preserved our future. These are the stories of those who 
strived---whether to victory or death---with strength and honor."

As Q lowered the book he raised his brows and asked, "Do you think we should pop 
over and tell Chuckles that he's completely wrong?"

"I don't think he'd appreciate your interrupting him right now," Ms. Q remarked 
dryly was she regarded Q over the tips of her thigh-high boots. "But he would 
probably appreciate the irony if he knew that he really *was* the lynchpin of 
the entire new Federation. That none of this would have happened if he wasn't at 
the right place at the right time. And hadn't taken just the right actions."

"True, things did turn out rather badly in all of the Imperial universes without 
him," Q said reflectively. "And even here, the price for the creation of this 
new Federation was a costly one."

Ms. Q caught his change of mood. "Yes, a lot has happened to Chakotay in the 
course of fulfilling his destiny." She looked at Q, her expression bordering on 
concern. "Chakotay will be allowed his happiness, won't he?" she asked 
wistfully. It was strange to worry over one particular mortal bipedal male, but 
this universe's Chakotay had grown on her as she watched him struggle under the 
burdens of duty and grief.

Q's forehead furrowed as he considered. "I *think* so. But there will always be 
a touch of bitterness with the sweet. What might have been."

"There always is," the female Q noted. Then she swept her legs off the desk, 
propping her elbows on it and putting her chin in her hands. "But Chakotay seems 
to have made his peace---at least in this universe."

"And without one bit of omnipotent help," Q concurred, half-grumbling. It had 
surprised him that he never saw a need to step in and nudge things in the right 
direction. Chakotay had managed to save these worlds all by himself, whether the 
man thought so or not.

After a moment Q seemed to flick away his momentary melancholy mood, mirroring 
his mate's position on the desk and wrinkling his nose teasingly at her. "But it 
*was* fun to watch, wasn't it?"

"Mmm...yes. Chakotay certainly knows how to handle his sword," Ms. Q purred, her 
eyes closing to sultry slits. "*And* he was so sexy in his little tunic outfit."

"No argument here. He certainly had the legs for it." Q agreed, leering at the 
memory. The two Qs shared a lascivious grin.

"Wanna go see what he and Blondie are up to?" Q asked, waggling his brows.

"No..." Ms Q drawled, then suddenly lunged across the desk, pushing Q back into 
the chair and straddling him. "I want to see what *you* look like, all sweaty 
and chained. Let's go back to Sisko's compound on Earth and find out."

The two beings vanished in a wisp of steam.

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

"I hereby declare this meeting of the Chakotay/Paris Mutual Appreciation Society 
in session," Tom said as he slid naked between the sheets, settling next to his 
equally unclothed partner. The two men solemnly kissed.

When they parted, Chakotay asked, "Is there an agenda for this session?" He 
settled on his side, stroking one hand along Tom's torso, contrasting the warmth 
of skin against his palm with the coolness of the topsheet his knuckles brushed 
against.

"The first order of business is deciding if all our meetings should take place 
in the nude as a matter of protocol." Tom felt the day's tension ebbing from his 
body under Chakotay's soothing touch. "Shall we open the subject for 
discussion?" he asked, sinking deeper into the mattress.

"Hmm...I'll have to cast my vote against that suggestion," Chakotay said 
gravely. "Such a bylaw would preclude impromptu gatherings of the society such 
as this afternoon's. But I'll offer a countermeasure. How about we make the 
meetings clothing-optional?"

"I can definitely be persuaded to get behind such a wise compromise," Tom said 
as he slid an arm around Chakotay's hip, palming one rounded cheek. "Especially 
if it leaves open the opportunity to get behind this behind."

Tom gave the muscles beneath his fingers two pinches. "That's two votes for the 
Chakotay Clothing Resolution. Motion carried unanimously." After they kissed 
again to celebrate, Tom's mood quieted along with his voice. "Now to the main 
item slated for this evening: the deflowering of a certain virgin." Tom felt 
Chakotay's hand stop moving and looked up into startled brown eyes. "That is, 
Cha, if you're feeling up to it."

Sable brows drew together in concern as Chakotay also abandoned his playful 
tone. "Just last night you seemed a little unsure about the pace of our 
relationship, Tom. Isn't this going from 'baby steps' to 'leaping tall buildings 
in a single bound'?"

"Not really." Tom shrugged. "I'll admit I'm a little fuzzy on the details, but I 
meant what I said this morning. I'm yours, Chakotay. And I want to *be* yours. 
That's something I have no doubts about whatsoever." He met Chakotay's wary gaze 
steadily. "I want you. I want to know what it's like to be part of you, to have 
you be a part of me."

Chakotay smiled and cupped Tom's cheek. "The feeling's mutual, Tom. I want to 
share that experience---and so many more---with you as well." He looked away, 
then shyly glanced at his lover. "Actually, there's something I wanted to ask 
you first---the top item on *my* personal agenda."

A deep breath was drawn for courage, then Chakotay said in a rush, "I was 
wondering if you would do me the honor of participating in a private bonding 
ceremony in a few weeks, after I'm finally discharged from the Doc's care."

His fingers slid lower, catching the pulse suddenly beating wildly in Tom's 
throat, noting the startled look in the blue eyes so close to his. Chakotay 
explained, "It's way too soon for me to marry again, Tom, but I've been thinking 
about what you said this morning. About us, and accepting that this is real."

Chakotay shifted closer, trying to read Tom's expression. "It won't be the big 
fancy celebration you deserve, but it would be a true commitment between us. For 
life. To our life together." He anxiously waited for response, hoping that Tom 
wouldn't see this proposal as a knee-jerk reaction to this morning, or Tom's 
offering of himself just now.

It wasn't. Chakotay had come to understand that he would always have doubts, 
always second-guess himself. He realized that was acceptable when it came to 
Trebus, but not when it came to Tom. Chakotay had loved the man for too long to 
let nebulous fears keep him from declaring that love. He just hoped Tom was 
aware that if Chakotay gave his word---whether before one person or a million---
he would keep it.

Tom was stunned silent. He knew Chakotay, and had learned enough about Dorvan 
tribal customs to know the private bonding as good as a marriage ceremony, even 
if the spirits would be the only witnesses.

Ironically, in that instant he felt a flood of sheer panic. The kind that comes 
when you realize all your dreams really *were* coming true, and you had to live 
with the consequences.

It was one thing to *think* that they were together for the rest of their lives. 
It was quite another to actually say it out loud---to make the vows. Tom 
wondered wildly if Chakotay had been right this morning and last night when he 
suggested Tom might not be ready for such a permanent arrangement. His mind 
began jabbering all the reasons they should hold off on a commitment.

Commitment.

That single word was enough to expel Tom's unexpected doubts in a sigh. His life 
flashed before his eyes, and with the images came the feelings that had grown 
between them over the years. He suddenly remembered that he was an adult 
choosing to make a life with the man he loved.

He wasn't going anywhere, so formalizing---finalizing---his place at Chakotay's 
side was a cause for rejoicing.

Tom felt a rush of exhilaration start at his toes and slide up his body to 
stretch his lips in the widest smile he could imagine. "Yes," was all he said.

Tenderness tempered his joy at the mix of love and relief on Chakotay's face. 
Tom's own emotions were a jumble of pride, and satisfaction, and wonder, knowing 
that Chakotay really, truly was his. For life.

They stared at each other, foolish grins on their faces, neither moving. Afraid 
to break the spell.

Tom knew he wanted to mark this moment, this decision. He had just the thing. 
"And in honor of this occasion," he announced, "let the deflowering commence."

Chakotay laughed, as he suspected Tom meant him to. "Far be it from me to delay 
such a delightful---and momentous---society function." He studied Tom's face, 
his expression softening at the blend of anticipation and uncertainty in the 
blue eyes. He promised himself that Tom's expression would soon change to one of 
sheer bliss. "Did you replicate some lube?"

Tom reached one hand under his pillow and pulled out a small container. He 
handed it over without a word.

Chakotay wrapped his arms around Tom and pulled the taller man with him as he 
rolled. When Chakotay was on his back, he urged Tom to rest on hands and knees, 
so the lean body was tented above him, long legs spread on either side of 
Chakotay's hips. "We'll do most of the prep like this, if it's okay with you." 
he said.

"Okay," Tom answered, pleased that he hadn't been reduced to monosyllables. Not 
quite, at least. He actually was pretty comfortable this way, though he became 
acutely aware of the way his ass was jutting up when Chakotay pushed the sheet 
down to their knees.

Chakotay started with a kiss, letting Tom take the lead in the fencing match 
their tongues began. He sighed in pleasure as Tom shifted down to rest on his 
elbows and dextrous fingers found their way into Chakotay's hair.

His own eager hands set aside the lube to explore Tom's body, running along 
shoulders and back, arms and legs. Scritching through the hair on Tom's chest to 
tease and tweak nipples to hard peaks, smiling into the kiss as he swallowed 
Tom's moans. He moved lower, to hips and belly and groin, careful not to tickle 
Tom.

Eventually, Chakotay wrapped one hand around Tom's cock, fisting the aroused 
length, swiping his thumb across the head at the apex of each stroke. He used 
his other hand to fondle the globes of Tom's ass, pinching and kneading, moving 
into the crack to tease the tiny hairs there.

Tom almost bucked when he felt a finger rimming his opening. His skin felt 
sensitized, every millimeter alive and aware and desperate for the next touch. 
He shifted his hands to the broad shoulders beneath him, afraid he'd start 
pulling Chakotay's hair in his pleasurable torment. He broke the kiss to groan. 
"Come on, Cha, do it already."

Chakotay's hands left him a moment to fumble for the lube and open it. Tom kept 
his eyes locked with Chakotay's as those fingers returned, this time with a 
purpose. One hand spread his buttocks as the other, slick and warm, paused 
against his anus.

Tom tried to relax for this strange yet welcome invasion. One finger slipped 
into him. He was a little surprised at how easily it breached him.

"How do you feel?" Chakotay asked as Tom's focus turned inward.

"Weird, like I should do something, get rid of you." He wriggled back, seating 
Chakotay's finger more deeply. "But also---I don't know---connected."

When Chakotay smiled up at him with a murmured "Good," Tom leaned forward again, 
claiming his lover's lips. The brush of Chakotay's tongue inside his mouth 
mimicked the slide of fingers in his passage. The sense of fullness was 
satisfying in a way Tom hadn't expected.

He really was a virgin in this; Annika and he had never been very adventurous in 
bed. Tom's thoughts were yanked back to the present when Chakotay hit some 
switch inside him that jolted old-fashioned electricity along his nerves. Tom 
would swear his hair was standing on end. "Shit!" he gasped as he shot up.

Chakotay pressed the same spot again, watching Tom's eyes practically roll into 
the back of his head. This was very promising. He surreptitiously added a fourth 
finger, finishing the stretching. Tom looked like a thoroughbred before a race, 
panting, sweating, wiry muscles quivering.

Distracted. Chakotay took advantage. He pulled out his fingers and rolled them 
again, capturing Tom's startled "Oof" with his mouth. After a moment he freed 
Tom to let him speak, deciding his own lips and tongue would be better employed 
mapping Tom's throat and chest.

Tom almost forgot his question when his nerves started jumping at the wet and 
soft---and occasionally teeth-stingingly sharp---sensations began flooding his 
brain. He threw back his head with a breathy groan, his nostrils flaring at the 
scents of sweat and musk rising from their bodies.

When Chakotay kept sliding down, Tom grabbed desperately at his shoulders. "What 
are you doing?" he asked breathlessly.

"Relaxing you," Chakotay replied before swiping his tongue along Tom's belly, 
then nipping him. "So lay back and enjoy." Then in a sudden move he shifted back 
and swallowed Tom's dick.

"Oh *Fuck*!" Tom gasped as his cock was plunged into wet heat. He felt the 
return of Chakotay's fingers as well as the older man's still-slick hand slid 
underneath and into Tom's body.

The combination of Chakotay swallowing around his cock and those devilish 
fingers deliberately hitting his hot spot sent Tom shouting over the edge, 
shuddering as his lover continued to swallow until Tom was sucked dry.

Chakotay released Tom's cock and ass, moving his hands to bend the long pale 
legs and press them up and back. His own body, too long neglected, seem to throb 
with each beat of the blood in his engorged sex. He barely retained enough 
control to search Tom's dazed face, asking hoarsely, "Ready?"

"Uhmh," Tom replied, shaking off the haze of orgasm. He looked up to see a 
bronze warrior looming above him, broad shoulders blocking the light, implacable 
hands holding Tom spread. He could feel the tip of Chakotay's penis like a brand 
against him.

A sudden memory of Chakotay in the arena blazed in Tom's mind. Chakotay looked 
as fierce and primal now, ready to strike---to claim, to take.

And Tom wanted to be taken. "Yes," he said, lifting his hips to meet the 
downward stroke. If he had felt connected before, it was nothing compared to 
this rod of flesh parting him, filling him, sliding on and on until he felt 
Chakotay's pelvis meet his ass.

Chakotay held motionless, breaths short, body trembling, as he waited for Tom to 
adjust. He released one of Tom's legs, letting it slip to his waist as he used 
his free hand to tease behind Tom's balls, his fingertips brushing the place 
they were joined. Tom made a sound in his throat and shifted, pushing upward 
again.

The clench of muscles around Chakotay's cock eased ever so slightly. He began to 
thrust, long smooth strokes, adjusting his angle, throwing his head back with a 
groan of pleasure. It had been so long. Too long. His balls tightened almost 
painfully, ready for the climax of this mating. His hand shifted to Tom's 
reawakening cock, palming it.

Tom reached out, running his fingers along Chakotay's sweat-slick skin, feeling 
the hard muscles underneath bunch and flex with every stroke into his ass. He 
sensed the pressure build again behind his eyes and in his balls. His body moved 
on automatic, caught up in the rhythm. Suddenly his back bent in a sharp curve 
as he shouted again, hot semen spattering his belly as his world blurred into 
ecstasy.

The liquid pulse against Chakotay's hand was matched by his own release. Cum 
shot from him as he growled low in his throat, spending himself in a flurry of 
sharp thrusts into the heated flesh sheathing him, the roar of blood in his ears 
drowning out the slap of flesh and heaving breaths.

The men held poised a moment at the apex of their movement, then sank back onto 
the mattress. Chakotay shifted his body to land beside Tom instead of on top of 
him.

Tom made a low sound of disappointment as he felt Chakotay's penis slide free. 
He lay sprawled, idly noting the wet spot under his ass and the fact that the 
sheet was *way down there* at the end of the bed. Much too far to reach. Much, 
much too far, as he had not one erg of energy left. It had all been spent in 
pleasure.

Chakotay roused himself after what felt like an eternity. He rolled to his side 
and flung one hand out, managing to clutch Tom's hip. He gave a slight squeeze. 
"You okay?"

"Oh yeah, sure, or I will be as soon as I remember how to make my limbs move." 
Tom turned his head to regard his companion. "I think we'll have to adjourn our 
meeting due to exhaustion, but I must say you certainly did the society proud 
today."

Chakotay grinned fondly and replied, "It was a joint effort, and all members 
should share in any accolades."

Tom's own grin turned into a speculative leer. "So when do I get to do the 
honors?"

Chakotay shifted his arm, running his hand up Tom's torso. "I was thinking, if 
you don't mind waiting a little, the night of our bonding." Chakotay let his 
fingers trace random paths through the hairs on Tom's chest.

Tom was struck by the appropriateness of the gesture. That joining too could 
mark the next step in their life together. He realized he could move after all, 
as he let one hand rest atop the strong bronze one over his heart. "That sounds 
perfect."

TBC