Title: All Aboard for the Delta Quadrant Author: rita (mommacita1@juno.com) Rating: NC-17 Pairing: P/K, P/other Sequel/Series: Sequel to "Ride's Over" Archive: Yes Warnings: For indentured sexual servitude, references to non-consensual m/m sex. Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I just like to play with 'em. Summary: Can Tom be with Harry on Voyager? And how would the rest of the Voyagers react to Tom, Harry's slave? "Actually, Captain, I believe there is a way." Tuvok surprised even himself, or would have if a Vulcan were capable of admitting surprise, by contradicting his Captain. "What is it?" Harry blurted out, belatedly adding, "Sir." He had been about to turn away in defeat. He knew Captain Janeway was sympathetic, but she had turned down his request to bring Tom aboard Voyager with him. The Vulcan nodded his acceptance of the belated honorific. "Captain," he continued, turning towards Janeway, who nodded at him in turn, indicating he should continue, "You may recall that we are now a generation ship." "Yes, of course, Tuvok. We've been chartered to further explore the Delta Quadrant - the hard way. I thought about that." She turned to Harry. "Had you come to me earlier, I would have suggested you free Tom then marry him. That would make him immediate family and, unless Starfleet forbade it, you could bring him on board." Harry nodded. "I thought of that. But Tom's sure his father would arrange for a preemptory prohibition." Janeway nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, judging by how he's responded to Tom until now, he's probably right." She became brisk. "I take it that wasn't what you had in mind, Commander?" "No." Tuvok confirmed. "Crew on a generation ship are allowed to bring personal belongings, including pets, on board, provided the pets are not contraband or otherwise prohibited by Starfleet or United Federation of Planets regulations. If I recall correctly ..." "Which I'm sure you do," Janeway put in wryly, a smile quirking her lips upward. "If I recall correctly, indentured humans have been classified as pets for purposes of taxation and census." Tuvok let the statement hang. "And pets aren't listed individually on the ship's roster, only by number and special needs. So Starfleet doesn't get a veto." "Precisely." Tuvok steepled his hands and looked pleased with himself, or would have if a Vulcan allowed himself such an expression. *** "Are you sure this is necessary, Doctor?" Harry asked, while Tom sat passively on the biobed. For some reason Tom didn't want to be examined, so Harry felt, well, obligated to object. "Quite sure, Commander," the Doctor replied crisply. "But he's not ..." "Classified as either crew or passenger? Yes, I'm quite aware of that little subterfuge. And they say Vulcan's can't lie. Humph!" The holographic doctor was at his most pedantic. "I have to examine the dogs, cats, parrots, iguanas, and everything else classified as biological - including the plants and fungi - so I most certainly *do* have to examine Mr. Paris. "It's not 'Mr.' anymore, Doc," Tom corrected quietly, without bitterness. "It is to me," the Doctor replied acerbically. "As I understand it, you have no say in how you're addressed, any more than the Carey boys' mini-bison does. Of all things to bring onto a starship ..." He harrumphed again and returned to his point. "You have always been 'Mr. Paris' to me, and so you shall remain. "Thanks, Doc," Tom murmured, appreciative of the consideration. He lay down obediently at the Doctor's gesture. "I saved you for last so that I could access your Starfleet medical records without risking detection. Although I don't really understand why Starfleet discharged you in the first ... what is this?" the Doctor looked from tricorder to biobed display then from Harry to Tom and back, with a frown. "Lieutenant Commander Kim, how do you explain this reading?" "What reading?" Harry was completely mystified. "Abuse is not acceptable on this starship. I will report it as animal abuse if the Captain and Commander Tuvok will not accept it as sexual molestation." "Doc, you know Tom and I are ... that is, we were and now ..." Harry stammered. "I don't think that's what the Doctor's talking about, Har ... sir," Tom interrupted, sitting up. "Doc, the Lieutenant Commander didn't do it. He's not that rough, usually ... and when he is, he always repairs any ... damage." "Then who *did* cause these injuries, Mr. Paris?" "It ... happened ... in the holding area. Where the visual inspections of non-sentient biologicals take place." "You are not non-sentient, Mr. Paris." Tom shrugged. "Neither are the porpoises Vorick brought on board, but we were all there anyway. The, ahh, damage occurred during the inspection." "The inspectors found it necessary to visually examine you with their penises? Repeatedly?" "Tom!" Harry burst out. "Why didn't you tell me?" Tom shrugged again. "Tell you what? That your property was mishandled in transit? All you could do is file a claim. And then I would have been held as evidence. By the time they got around to adjudicating, the damage would have been gone anyway." He looked down at his hands. "I wanted to come with you. It didn't matter what they did as long as they let me on board," he said in a small, pleading voice. "Shit," Harry whispered, looking away. He knew Tom was right. "Is this sort of abuse rampant, Mr. Paris?" the Doctor inquired. "Not quite this deliberately, no. They knew what I was, if not who. But, frankly, they didn't take any care in their inspections of any of the animals." "I'll report the general tendency along with this specific incident. Commander Tuvok can handle it as he sees fit." He sighed. "Other than that," he paused as his subprograms compared the tricorder and display readings with Tom's medical history, "you appear in adequate health. I'll just heal the tears." "It's not necessary, Doctor." "One of the dogs had a burn on his muzzle. I healed that. I must presume it came from the same type of callous handling. I can certainly do no less for Commander Kim's property." *** "Hi, Joe, come on in," Harry said to the Lieutenant hesitating in the doorway. "Hi, Harry, Tom. I hope I'm not interrupting anything." "No, not at all. Tom and I were just settling in." "Great, great. Ah, glad you're back, Tom." "Thanks, Lieutenant. Me, too." Harry filled the awkward silence. "I heard you brought your sons with you. I bet they were glad to be able to go with their Dad." Joe smiled. "Yeah, they were. And their mother, she was really good about it. She's been really good about everything." He paused. "Actually, I'm here about the boys." He paused again. "Shit. I don't know how to ask. I'd like your help, Tom." Tom shook his head gently and suggested, "You need to ask my mas ... the Lieutenant Commander." "Yeah, like I said, I don't know how to, well, approach things." "You're probably not the only one," Tom replied softly, then realized he was speaking without permission. He turned to Harry, who smiled reassuringly. Tom continued, "Maybe you could just pass the word. Anything having to do with me - anything at all, even just talking to me, really - goes through Lieutenant Commander Kim." He used the Doctor's analogy. "You wouldn't pet a dog without asking the owner first, right? It's the same idea." He smiled, resignation damping it. "I think I need to give you blanket permission for things like talking to people, Tom," Harry put in. He turned to Joe. "But I am responsible for Tom and for anything he does. So if you need something from him, he's right, you should ask me." "Look, I know the situation. My ex-mother-in-law took a slave to cook and clean for her. Treats her well, I guess, but not even like she'd treat a paid housekeeper. It's a difference in attitude. But, Harry, really, how can you treat Tom as less than, less than ..." "Human?" Tom asked. "Because I *chose* to be less than human. I sold myself, Lieutenant. I gave up my rights, *all* my rights when I did that." "What Tom's trying to say is that legally he's my property, even if I don't think about him that way. He won't refuse anyone anything on his own account - he, he can't anymore. All he can do is turn to me. But I can refuse others." Harry flushed. "Sorry. That didn't come out right either. Anyway, what did you want Tom's help with?" Joe looked down and shuffled his feet. "Well, my boys chose Klingon as their foreign language and, well, they're having a bit of a problem with the compu-prof. I looked at the stuff; it's kind of dry. I know Tom speaks Klingon, so I wondered if he could maybe tutor them." "I know your accent's atrocious, Joe," Tom quipped, forgetting himself for the moment. "And besides, the Klingon you know probably isn't in the curriculum. But wouldn't B'Elanna be a better choice?" Joe grinned at the jibe, feeling more at ease. "Yes, she would, but, see, that's the problem. The boys are trying to learn Klingon to surprise B'Elanna." "Neat idea," Tom said, grinning. "Should I teach them to duck heavy, flying objects, too?" He stopped short and continued in a voice that strained itself to keep from cracking with tension. "I mean, I, I wouldn't mind ... that is, if you'd let me?" He turned to Harry. "I think that would be great. I was wondering what you were going to do while I was on duty, Tom." "I'd pay you, of course," Joe put in. Tom shook his head and reddened. The more details there were to explain, the harder it became to keep the shame from showing. Harry jumped in quickly. "You can't pay in credits or replicator credits, Joe. Tom doesn't exist as far as the computer is concerned. But maybe," he looked at Tom, "Maybe you could somehow arrange some holodeck time for him?" "I can give him his own holodeck access code and put time segments in as payment. Sure, that's easy." Tom looked up, not daring to think about this unexpected pleasure. "No, don't. You'll get in trouble." "Tom?" Harry looked at his friend, only rarely did he find himself thinking of Tom as his slave, but Tom rarely forgot. "What do you mean?" "Would you give a dog a holodeck account? Or free run of the ship?" Tom shook his head. "Don't get me wrong, I'd love it ... but it's not realistic, not for a slave." He turned to Carey. "I don't need payment. Since it's okay with Lieutenant Commander Kim, I'd be happy to tutor your kids." *** "Mr. Paris?" "Commander!" Tom scrambled to his feet in momentary panic. When Harry wasn't there, was he supposed to be restrained somehow? How should he respond to an officer when he was alone - kneel? He settled for coming to a close approximation of field attention. "Lieutenant Commander Kim is on duty, sir." "At ease, Mr. Paris," Tuvok replied. "I am aware of Commander Kim's status. Captain Janeway requests your presence in her Ready Room." "In her ..." It took Tom a second to digest this. There was no question of what he had to do. In Harry's absence, he obeyed any other non-slave. "Yes, sir. May I, may I put shoes on, please, sir?" "Of course," Tuvok replied. "Take your time." As they exited, Tuvok spoke quietly, "We might attract less attention if you walked beside me instead of behind, Mr. Paris." Tom caught up obediently, with a murmured, "Sorry, sir." Tuvok mentally wondered how the interview with the Captain was going to go. As they crossed the bridge to the Ready Room, Tom kept his head down, but Tuvok caught a distressed Harry Kim's eye and motioned him to follow. "Mr. Paris, come in please. Have a seat." "Thank you, Captain." Tom crossed the room to sit in the chair across from Janeway. Janeway's glare kept both Tuvok and Harry from coming further into the room than the entryway. "I wanted to set up some guidelines for both you and the crew. It's a ... new situation, having you aboard in this ... capacity." "I understand, Captain. But there's no need to make any special arrangements. I know my position. I'll remain in Lieutenant Commander Kim's quarters at all times unless he directs me otherwise. Or someone else does in his absence." Tom sounded like he was reciting a memorized set of instructions, which in fact he was. Instructions he had committed to memory as part of his indoctrination into indentured servitude. "That may have worked on Earth, Tom, but it's not sufficient on Voyager." Tom flinched as Janeway leaned forward to emphasize her words. Harry took a half step into the room, only to be restrained by Tuvok's hand on his arm. "We are a military vessel in unknown, potentially - sometimes already proven - hostile territory. Every person on board this ship," she waved away his protest before it left his lips, "every person, no matter what their legal status, must be available to contribute. Such contributions may not be required of everyone, but everyone must be prepared. For example, Lieutenant Vorick's dolphin pair. Should we need them, say, to aid in exploration of a water world, they have agreed to accept field commissions in Starfleet. Your capability as a pilot is far more likely to be required, especially when added to your knowledge of the Delta Quadrant. I need to know that I can count on you." Tom drew himself up almost proudly. "Captain, you can always count on me to serve Voyager to the best of my ability should the need arise, despite my standing as a ... non-person. I can't imagine a circumstance where you would need me and my ... the Lieutenant Commander would not grant permission for me to serve you. But I cannot accept a field commission. I'm not free to do so. The dolphins aren't indentured; I am. I'll give my life for Voyager and her crew, I think you know that. I don't need to be part of Starfleet to be there if you need me." Harry thought he might burst into tears at Tom's speech. Tuvok looked distinctly impressed. Janeway had to clear her throat before she continued. "I accept your terms - or lack of them - for now. However, in order for anyone to make use of your skills, we need to be able to reach you. And here I think I will insist that the dolphin analogy does apply." She held out a comm badge. "The dolphins have been fitted with implanted universal translator/comm units." "I can't accept that, Captain," Tom replied in a choked whisper. "My master determines ..." Harry rushed forward before Tom could continue, knowing how much it hurt him to explain his humiliating position in the world. "Tom, it's all right. I want you do abide by whatever the Captain feels is appropriate. While we're on Voyager, you should treat her orders as though they came from me." Slowly Tom's hand reached out and took the comm badge. With shaking fingers and tear-blurred eyes, he pinned it in place. "Captain, there is nothing in this universe that would make me happier than to be able to serve aboard Voyager again." *** "Good evening, Mr. Paris. Enjoying the view?" Tuvok's voice startled Tom from his reverie and he turned his gaze from the green and yellow planet filling the mess hall viewport to see Voyager's two full Commanders standing beside him. "Commanders!" He jumped up instantly. "I ... I know I'm not supposed to be out of quarters alone, but almost everyone's down on the planet, so I thought I'd save Neelix a trip. I just came to get my rations." He grabbed his tray. "I'll return to quarters now." 'Please don't punish me,' he prayed silently. "Easy, Tom," Chakotay soothed. "We came over to ask if we could join you, that's all. You don't have to go back to your quarters if you don't want to." "Oh. I ... umm, please," he set his tray down and gestured at the chairs around the table, "Please join me. Ahh, thank you, sirs. I *was* enjoying the view. It looks like a beautiful place." He waited until the senior officers had seated themselves, then sat down again. The three men sat in silence, gazing at the planet hanging in space before them for several minutes. Chakotay finished his meal before he realized Tom hadn't eaten any of his. "I hope we didn't spoil your appetite, Tom," he said, smiling to soften his words. Tom flushed. "No, sir. I just wasn't sure I should eat while you were. Not all, that is, not everyone approves of that." "I assure you, Mr. Paris," Tuvok said, neatly patting invisible food particles from his mouth with his napkin, "that I disapprove much more of wasted food and malnutrition." Tom flinched at the words, and Tuvok sighed inwardly. He had meant them lightly, but humans seemed to find his tones judgmental even when he didn't mean them to be. "Please eat," he encouraged. Tom complied, forcing the first bites down through a closed throat. Chakotay tried to distract him. "The planet is beautiful. I'm afraid we're going to have trouble getting all of the crew and their families back on the ship." Tom nodded around a mouthful of food. "I guess that's why Commander Kim's staying down there. To keep track of where everyone is." "I'm a little surprised he left you alone overnight." "Well, I was supposed to watch Chell's little ones, so I wouldn't have been alone. But then his mate came up and said the weather was so mild and the environment so benign that they'd decided to take them planetside." He turned back to the viewport, longing evident on his face. "Yes, it's quite something, isn't it, Tuvok?" Chakotay agreed. "Indeed." Tom turned to face them. "You've both been down there?" The two men nodded. "What's it like?" "The planet's atmosphere is absorptive in the blue end of the spectrum, hence the yellow hue as opposed to Earth's blue. The atmosphere is slightly richer in oxygen than Earth's due to the overall milder climate resulting in more dense photosynthesis." Tom tried earnestly to pay attention, while Chakotay concentrated on smothering his laughter. "So," Tom tried a translation, "the weather's beautiful year-round, the air's breathable, although looking up would make an Earth-born being squint, and the vegetation is bright green." "I believe that is what I said," agreed the Vulcan. "But what is it *like*?" Tom asked again. "I have just told you." "I could find that out from the computer. I can't go down there -can't ever go down *any* there! Please, could you just describe ..." Tom pulled himself up short. He was *way* out of line. "I'm sorry, Commander. I have no right ... Thank you for sharing that with me, it was very kind of you." He stood. "I'd better get back to quarters. I shouldn't be here." He turned to go, but Chakotay caught his arm. Chakotay exchanged a glance with Tuvok, then stood and turned Tom to face the viewport again, his hands on the younger man's biceps. He spoke softly, almost in Tom's ear. "There's a spot down there, see where the two continental horns almost meet?" "Yes," Tom breathed, focusing his eyes there. "That would be an arctic region on Earth." "But on this planet, it's as mild as, oh, the Mediterranean coast," Chakotay continued, loosening his grip on Tom as he wove a story-teller's spell. Tuvok leaned back, arms folded casually across each other as he, too, listened. "There's a fern forest down there. I was there in high afternoon, when you'd expect the sun to be beating down, the humidity and insects to be unbearable." Tom nodded, visualizing it. "But it looked like early morning in a forest glade, with the yellow light filtering down. Because it's coastal, there's a cool breeze blowing one way or the other almost all the time. It makes the fronds rustle and it keeps the air from getting stagnant. The ground is springy with moss-like covering. When you sit on it, it's soft, no twigs to poke or scratch you. And when you do sit, crushing the seed pods, they burst with a soft whisper of fragrance, tangy, not sweet; I'd almost say salty or spicy. Then they turn from green to burnt orange, and suddenly the ground looks like autumn in northeastern America. I wanted to sit there forever." He paused, eyes unfocused as he remembered. Coming back to himself, Chakotay glanced at Tuvok, who nodded for him to look at Tom. Tom's eyes were closed, his lips moving as he silently repeated Chakotay's words. As if he realized he was being watched, Tom shook himself and opened his eyes, blinking a few times to focus. "What happened then?" he asked, childlike. Chakotay laughed. "The Captain commed me and rather petulantly asked whether I intended to use up *her* shore-leave time along with my own." Tom joined in Chakotay's chuckle. Suddenly Tom whirled to face Tuvok. "Commander, may I use the holodeck? Please, sir? Harry ... Lieutenant Commander Kim transferred some holodeck time to my account before he left. I know I'm not supposed to without his permission, but I promise - I swear - I won't do anything ..." The words came out in a pleading rush. Tuvok raised a hand to stop the verbal flood. "I can see no reason to refuse your request. Let me know if you need more time; I believe I have a larger allotment in my account than I am likely to use." "Thank you, Commander! I promise I'll only do what the Captain's allowed. I'll try to stay within my allotment, but thank you for offering. I ... thank you." He almost ran out of the mess hall, as though afraid Tuvok would change his mind if he didn't hurry. *** "Tom, it's breathtaking." Harry Kim turned in a small circle looking at the re-creation of a glade on the planet they had just left. "Did I get it right?" Tom asked. "Did you ... ?" Harry looked again, at the details now. The seed pods turning orange where he had stepped, the yellow light alternating with green shadow as a mild breeze moved the fern fronds to and fro. "Yes, you did. It's perfect," he said, amazed. He turned to Tom. "Where did you see this?" Tom stepped back, suddenly terrified. "I didn't, I swear. I couldn't get down there if I tried, master. And I didn't try." He fell to his knees, shaking. Harry was beside him instantly. "Tom, Tom, I wasn't accusing you of anything. I know you don't break the rules - even when I wish you would." He stroked the blond head of his slave - how he hated that word and all it stood for - until he calmed down. Softly, he tried again. "I just wondered how you got it all so perfectly." "I did break the rules," Tom whispered. "I left your quarters alone, without asking anyone, while you were down on the planet. I went to the mess hall. The Commanders found me there." He paused to wipe his cheeks and look up at his master. "But they weren't angry. I ... I ate with them - they asked me to. And then, then I forgot myself. I asked them - I know I shouldn't have - I asked them what the planet was like. And they told me. Tuvok gave me the details that I programmed in so it's right physically, but Chakotay, Chakotay told me what it *felt* like. And then," Tom's face filled with wonder, even remembering what happened next. "Then I asked to use the holodeck by myself - I know I shouldn't have, they should have punished me, at least locked me up until you got back. But they didn't. They didn't. Tuvok gave me permission and, and he even transferred some of his holodeck time to my account. He told me to ask if I needed more, but I wasn't going to, I couldn't, it's not right. A slave doesn't do that. But he didn't wait for me to ask. He just transferred time. I think he must have been checking my balance; it seems like there was always a little bit left when I thought I'd run out." Tom took a deep breath. "So I got to finish this." He shrugged. "It's all I have to give you that you don't already own. Happy birthday ... Harry." Tom had purposely called him "Harry". He hadn't used his name since they'd been on board, except accidentally and quickly corrected. Harry stretched out on the soft ground and reached for Tom. "Make love to me," he whispered, pulling Tom to him. Tom immediately fell to his knees, smiling, and began to strip. "No," Harry stopped him, grabbing his hands. "Not like a slave. That's sex, not love. Make love to me. Make love *with* me. Like we used to. Like lovers." Tom made a very small sound and tears began to fall freely down his face. For a moment Harry thought he'd demanded something Tom could no longer give. Then Tom stretched himself along Harry's body. Harry watched the bright eyes behind the falling tears. Tom's smile reached all the way to his eyes. Then Tom was too close to watch, as he closed in for a tender kiss, enveloping Harry with his longer body, entwining arms and legs around him, merging them into one. Sometime later, Harry realized he was naked, they both were, and Tom was rolling him over in the fragrant ground cover. Cool oil had appeared from somewhere and Tom was preparing Harry with his fingers even as his mouth brought Harry to the edge of oblivion. Finally, Tom lifted his head, imparting one last, soft kiss to the tip of Harry's shaft before looking up into his eyes. He stilled his fingers without removing them. "Harry?" Tom's serious tone brought Harry back into focus. Harry looked into eyes so dilated there was only a thread of blue encircling the huge black centers. "What is it, love?" "You're sure? "I don't understand. What are you asking?" Harry tried valiantly to regain his ability to follow a train of thought. "You're sure you want this? Want me to be your lover tonight, not your slave?" "This is what I want." Tom studied Harry for a moment longer, then nodded and removed his fingers. He moved behind Harry, spooning up, and aligning his rigid cock with Harry's well-oiled hole. Slowly, he pushed in, rocking gently each time a little further in, until he could go no further. Flush against his lover's back, he murmured, "Ready?" At Harry's moan of agreement, he began thrusting in earnest. Although Harry almost always granted him release, it had literally been years since he had set the pace, years since he had been allowed to think of his own pleasure along with that of his partner. He tried to make it last, but his need and Harry's were too great. Too soon for something Tom wanted to cherish and remember, for who knew when - if ever - it might happen again. Too soon and he burst inside Harry, carrying him over the edge into shared chaos. As soon as he could, Tom slid out and over his master. With careful thoroughness, he began to lick him clean. But Harry stopped him forcefully. "No, Tom. Be my lover." Tom froze at Harry's first words, then slowly nodded. He rose and led Harry to a waterfall, thoughtfully calling out to the computer to raise the water temperature before they stepped under it to wash each other clean. *** Sex had been rough that morning, with no release for Tom and no permission given for him to relieve himself before Harry left for the bridge. Tom pulled the soiled sheets from the bed and tossed them in the refresher as he went towards the shower. First a sonic shower to clean himself, then a cold water shower to calm his body. Next he made the bed with fresh sheets and straightened the quarters. No permission had been given to heal the torn tissue or the bruises. There was no time either, before he was due to take Katie and Naomi to the mess hall for lunch. Tom dressed quickly but neatly, and picked up the girls from their quarters. "Good afternoon, ladies," Neelix greeted them. He smiled at them, then turned the smile towards Tom. "Happy birthday, Tom!" "It's your birthday?" Naomi asked before Tom could say anything. "It's the day I was born, yes," Tom replied, trying to sound light-hearted. "When's the party?" Katie asked. Tom bent to be at Katie's eye level. "Slaves don't have parties," he responded simply. Neelix gasped. "Why not?" both girls asked. Tom put a hand on each of their shoulders. "Remember we talked about different kinds of people? How, Naomi, you have bumps, while Lieutenant Commander Torres has ridges, Neelix has spots, Seven has implants, and Commander Chakotay has a tattoo, but the Captain has a smooth forehead?" The girls nodded. "And we talked about Chell's blue skin," Naomi rejoined. "And Commander Tuvok's pointy ears?" Katie asked. "Yes," Tom agreed. "Well, remember what I said about those kinds of differences?" "Beauty is only skin deep," Katie quoted proudly. "And that means ..." Tom coached. "What a person looks like doesn't matter. Infinite diversity in infinite combinations is good." Naomi said. "Right. And we also talked about differences among adults that do matter. "Like rank?" Katie asked. "Like rank. A person with a higher rank isn't necessarily a *better* person than someone with a lower rank or no rank at all," began Tom. "Like Neelix," Naomi put in. "Or you?" Katie asked. "No, not like Tom," Naomi corrected the younger girl. "Tom used to have a rank. A couple of ranks. He was Lieutenant Paris, then Ensign Paris, then Tom." "That's right," Tom agreed, but his voice didn't sound quite as firm as it had. "Okay. So rank matters in how you treat a person, but it doesn't make that person better or worse. Do you understand?" The girls nodded. "What does that have to do with your birthday party?" Katie asked. "Well, there's another difference among adults. It's called 'freedom'. Free people have certain rights; they can make decisions and do things as long as they don't break the rules or hurt anyone. I'm not free. I'm a slave. I told you this before. I can't make decisions about what I want. There are things that slaves don't get that other people do, even children. Birthday parties are one of those things." "Is shore-leave another?" Naomi asked. "Yes." Tom faltered. Neelix stepped in, uncharacteristically brusque. "I don't think we have to try to list them right now. Your lunches are getting cold." He ushered the girls to a table, then turned back when he realized Tom wasn't following. "Tom?" Tom was still crouched at the serving counter, but now he was bent almost double, his head buried in his hands. He raised a hand to the counter and levered himself upright, turned away from the tables. "Neelix?" "Right here, Tom." Tom didn't turn around. "I know I don't have the right to ask anyone to do anything for me ..." He choked and bowed to rest his forehead on the counter. "It's all right, Tom, you can ask me anything, anytime," Neelix reassured him. "Tom nodded his gratitude. "I'm ... not feeling very well ... right now. Could you watch the girls for a little while? They have holodeck time for a Flotter story." "Of course, Tom, no problem. Do you want me to have someone help you to sickbay?" Tom shook his head. "No. No, thank you. I just want to go ... I just need to clear my head for a few minutes. I'll meet you in the holodeck." "Don't worry, you don't have to meet me. Dinner's all taken care of. I can spend the afternoon with the girls." "Yes. Yes, of course you can." Tom smiled sadly. "It's all just a setup to make me feel useful, isn't it? Took me long enough to see through it, huh? Thanks, Neelix. I'll just go to my master's quarters until he needs me." Abruptly, Tom straightened and almost ran out. "No, Tom, that isn't what I ... meant," Neelix called after him, but he was talking to the air. "Neelix?" came a small voice. "Why can't Tom have a birthday party? I don't understand." "Neither do I, sweet'ums, neither do I." *** "Let me make sure I understand this, Starfleet," B'Elanna snarled. "For your birthday, Tom, who has nothing, made you a magnificent holoprogram. And you, Lieutenant Commander, for Tom's birthday, raped him and walked out." "Umm, yeah. Basically. But I mean, I don't always treat him like that, not even often. And I didn't realize it was his birthday." "And that makes it okay?" B'Elanna's hands curled into fists and she stalked towards Harry. Harry didn't retreat. He deserved the beating he hoped she would give him. "B'Elanna! That's enough!" Janeway's voice cut through Harry's self-pity. "This won't solve anything. Where is Tom now?" "In our quarters. Probably kneeling on the floor like he was when I got off duty." Harry's tears fell. "He, he thanked me for what I tried to do - his words, B'Elanna! He said he appreciated it, but it wasn't necessary. He had chosen to sell himself and he would live with the consequences. Then he said he thought maybe Captain Janeway meant it when she said his services as a pilot might be needed in an emergency. He asked me whether I thought he was just deluding himself again. I told him he wasn't, that you were sincere. Then he said that, if it was still all right with me, he would continue to wear the comm badge as you had requested. I guess I didn't answer quickly enough, because he took off the comm badge and held it out to me, telling me it was all right, he understood. He really appreciated everything everyone tried to do for him, but it was just too hard to remember he was a slave. He said this morning I treated him appropriately and he resented it. He said he'd gotten it all backwards and he deserved to be punished for forgetting what he was." Harry slapped at the tears on his face. "The worst of it is, he sounded *dead*. He sounded like he did the night I first found him." "Enough self-flagellation, Harry. Tom's rubbing off on you. The question is, what can we do now?" Neelix spoke into the silence. "The children want to give Tom a birthday party." All eyes turned to him. Then Janeway spoke. "And I believe I have the perfect present. Mr. Neelix, as my favorite Admiral would say: make it so." *** Tom obediently followed Harry. He expected to be taken to the holodeck, where Harry would take him. He hoped Harry wouldn't ask him to act like a lover, but he could do it, would do it, if that was the order. This time, though, he would remember he was just acting. He was surprised when Harry led him into sickbay. "Your wrists, Mr. Paris," the Doctor held out his hands expectantly. Tom looked back at Harry, who nodded, then held out his arms. With a quick, sure motion, the Doctor ran a magnetite decoder over both bracelets and let them clatter to the floor. Tom stood stunned. Eventually, Harry walked up and turned him around. On and around the biobeds and equipment stood everyone who lived on Voyager except those few manning vital stations. Katie and Naomi came forward, followed by the Carey boys wheeling a covered crash cart. "You said you couldn't have a birthday party 'cause you're a slave," Katie explained. "So we made it so you're not a slave anymore and now you can have your birthday party." Tom turned to Harry in horror. "Please, no, I can't ... I can't." "Shh, wait. Hear them out," Harry tried to calm his lover and, failing that, put his arm around the trembling man's shoulders to hold him upright. Naomi waited patiently for Tom's attention to return to her small group. "We didn't have a lot of time to get things together, but we wanted to give you some presents." Behind him, the Doctor spoke. "I gave you your first present, removal of the symbols that mark you as a slave." Next to him, Harry said, "My present is next: I free you from any debt owed me." Naomi nodded at the Carey brothers and they pushed the cart forward and took the cover off. A full Starfleet uniform lay on the cart. "This is from me and mom and Flotter and Trevis. It's a symbol of your freedom and the choice you made to serve Voyager." The Careys and B'Elanna came around the cart and Joe put a holodisk atop the uniform. "Another symbol of freedom for you. The freedom of flight. The complete pilot recertification sim. Batehart's at the helm, but his part of the gift is to run you through them as soon as he's off-shift. Katie held up her small, tightly closed hand and Harry nudged Tom forward. Reflexively he went down on one knee to her level. Sighing, Chell, handed one of his babies to his mate, who now juggled three, and went to help Katie by pulling Tom's hand out and uncurling the fingers. Katie dropped an Ensign's pip into the hand and Chell helped her curl Tom's fingers around it. "This is from me and Aunt Katherine and all the baby Chells and, oh yeah, their mommy and daddy, too." Tuvok stepped forward and Tom looked up at the motion. "We received a final message burst from Starfleet just as we left the Alpha Quadrant." He read from a padd. "'This acknowledges that the USS Voyager, upon leaving Starfleet space, is granted full independence in interpretation and redefinition of Starfleet regulations and United Federation of Planets treaties, laws, and judgments as appropriate to its permanent mission of exploration and potential settlement of the Delta Quadrant.' It is signed by Admiral Jean Luc Picard, presiding Admiral, Starfleet Command. An addendum notes with regret the retirement of Admiral Owen Paris from Starfleet Command." Tuvok paused before adding dryly, "We of course hope the retired Admiral will live long and prosper. In the Alpha Quadrant." Chakotay came up to stand next to Tuvok and Tom transferred his bewildered gaze to the First Officer. "As the first independent act of the Voyager Senior Council, it is my pleasure to announce the reinstatement of Thomas Eugene Paris as Starfleet Ensign in the Command Chain of the USS Voyager." Captain Janeway stepped next to her niece, directly in front of Tom. "Do you accept the rights and responsibilities incumbent upon a Starfleet officer aboard the USS Voyager with full knowledge of what these entail?" Sickbay was silent. All eyes turned to Tom, still kneeling in front of Katie, supported by Harry and Chell. Now he blinked and shook off their support, standing up with the graceful fluid motion that was his trademark. He came to parade attention in front of Janeway. Saluting her smartly, he replied, "I accept with full knowledge, ma'am." "Then it is my pleasure as Captain of the USS Voyager, and with the powers vested in me by Starfleet Command and the USS Voyager Senior Council, to confirm you in the rank of Ensign," she took the pip from his hand and pinned it to his collar, "And to welcome you back to Starfleet and service aboard Voyager." Tom took one step backwards and saluted again, then turned slightly to salute the Commanders. Finally, he held out his arms for Katie and Naomi, who ran into them. Cheers broke out among the crowd in sickbacy, followed by cries of, "Toast! Toast!" The drinks were poured and Janeway raised her glass: "Here's to the best damned pilot in the Delta Quadrant!" "Hear, hear!" "And he'd better recertify in a hurry. I need that pilot at the helm!" With that, she kissed him on the cheek, nodded to the Commanders, Harry, Chell, and the Doctor, and left. Sam Wildman favored Tom with another kiss as she claimed Naomi and Katie for a quick trip to the bridge for a bedtime story from Aunt Katherine and then bedtime itself. Chell shook Tom's hand as he took a baby from his mate and they departed. Slowly, the rest of the crew and their families drifted out, wishing Tom a happy birthday and many more in freedom. Finally Tuvok took his leave. "Mr. Paris, on Vulcan we do not celebrate birthdays. However, we do celebrate what might be termed 'rites of passage'. I congratulate you on achieving your latest rite of passage." He raised his hand in the traditional Vulcan greeting: "Live long and prosper, Ensign Paris." Standing straight with head held high, Tom Paris returned the gesture with the traditional reply: "Peace and long life, Commander Tuvok." Chakotay shook hands as he left, leaning in to whisper, "I understand you owe me a visit to the holodeck. I intend to see what you did with my little description." He turned towards the door, where Tuvok waited for him patiently. Finally, the Doctor, too, took his leave, turning himself off after fervently hoping the "new" Ensign Paris was less accident-prone than his previous incarnation. Tom fingered his pip then gathered up the items on the crash cart. He straightened and looked around uncertainly for a moment. Then he turned around. Harry Kim waited. There was nothing else he could do. He'd done too much harm to make any move at all. If Tom walked out the door, he deserved it. If Tom turned to him, gave him another chance ... Gods, he didn't deserve it, but he would certainly take it. "Harry?" "Yes, Tom?" "Umm, should I ask Chakotay to assign me new quarters?" "If that's what you want." Harry kept his voice neutral with effort. "I don't know. I don't know what you expect now. You freed me, but ..." Tom took a deep breath. "Does that mean you're letting me go?" "If that's what you want," Harry repeated. "Harry," Tom's voice cracked. "I don't know what I want. To fly, yes. To be part of Starfleet and Voyager again, yes. But, personally? Harry, it's been almost three years. Am I really on my own - alone?" Harry was silent, knowing his voice would betray him. "Okay," Tom nodded. "I understand. You don't need someone who can only take, someone with nothing to give. I'd better go catch Chakotay." He walked out the door. *** Epilogue - Two months later Harry Kim couldn't even get drunk. Alone in Sandrine's night after night, he cried too hard to swallow. Finally, he gave up and made his way back to his quarters. 'Why should this night be any different than the 59 before it?' he wondered. 'Or the 59 that will follow?' he continued, wallowing. He was mumbling aloud as he entered the room. 'The empty room,' he amended. He didn't bother with the lights, merely stripped and threw his clothes in the general direction of the refresher. Why bother with nightclothes he would only soil and have to change. Besides, who was there to see him? He threw himself onto the bed, imagining Tom's body on the other half. Imagining. No, his imagination just wasn't that vivid. He sat up to call for lights after all. He could still feel the heat radiating off ... whatever was on the other side of his bed. He could hear the soft, even breathing. Maybe he really was drunk. He decided not to call for lights. Why spoil the illusion? And if it was an alien instead of an illusion, maybe it would eat him and put him out of his misery. Thinking cheerful thoughts like that, Harry fell asleep. He woke to the smell of coffee and clean laundry. The smell of his mother's house. With a masculine overlay. The smell of Tom Paris in his mother's house. He opened his eyes and looked at the other side of the bed. The indentation of a longer, more slender body than his remained. He heard breathing from his other side. He rolled and looked over the side of the bed. Wary blue eyes in a pale face met his. Tom Paris sat naked on the floor next to his bed folding laundry. A cup of coffee rested just within reach. "What are you doing here?" Harry could hardly believe he got a whole, coherent sentence out. Tom silently offered him the coffee. He took it and sipped, feeling more awake. Then he looked over the rim of the cup and waited. Tom put down the towel he was folding. "You said I had to decide. I did. I'd rather be a slave in your quarters than free without you in mine." "I don't want a slave. I want a lover. One who comes to me of his own free will." "I'm here of my own free will. I'm just willing to give up my freedom if that's what it takes to be with you." "Can you be my lover again?" Harry marveled at his own calmness. How could he be discussing this rationally, when he wanted to grab the man and shackle him to the bed? Tom cocked his head as if he could read Harry's thoughts. "I don't know," he answered finally. "Maybe it's been too long. But I'll try. If you'll help me, I'll try." Harry put the coffee down. "Come back to bed." Tom was beside him in an instant. Neither man was aroused, all they did was hold each other, stroking and reassuring themselves that they were really together. Sleepily, Harry asked, "How did you get in anyway?" Tom blew out an irritated breath. "*Harry!* I haven't forgotten *everything* I ever knew. Some things are like riding a bike, you never forget them." "Breaking into people's rooms is like riding a bike?" "Harry!" "See? You're remembering already. I may be sorry I didn't keep you as a slave." "Maybe," Tom agreed, smiling slightly. "Harry? Maybe I could be both." End.