Summary:  C/P, A/K;  KT's CPSG "Halloween"  challenge.  Part Eleven:  Questions of faith.
Copyright November 2001 Cassatt

The sound of pounding on their doorway woke Chakotay, from such a deep sleep that he was momentarily confused. Had he really heard anything? Pulling himself closer, against Tom's back, feeling the man respond with a gentle push of his own, he let his eyes close again. Every morning. Each and every morning he could, he'd wake with the feel of this skin under his fingers. He heard voices and an actual knock this time. Then another loud knock in quick succession. His heart rate increased. The First Officer asserted himself.

Getting out of bed quickly, he looked on the floor for his pants, and as he pulled them on he heard the muffled sound of his combadge from inside the drawer of the night stand. Tom was stirring, mumbling something incoherent. He dashed to the door via the dresser and keyed it open with barely awake hands.

Greg and Harry were standing there, looking quite agitated. The hangers on the door fell to the floor in a heap. Tom called out from the bed. Chakotay tried to make words form.

"Chakotay," Greg said as Harry picked up the clothing, "Mr. Tuvok and Neelix are missing. We were going to find some breakfast, and saw fresh clothes still on their door. And you know, Tuvok gets up really early, so we knocked, but there wasn't any answer. Then I tried to hail and couldn't get either of them. So, well, we went into the room. It doesn't look like they've been there all night. The bed is still made. The lamps weren't lit. They're gone."

His racing heart stopped for a moment. Motioning them inside, he spun around. Tom was sitting up and their eyes locked. They both knew what they were each thinking. Medrich. But as he was letting that thought sift through the fog still in his mind, he finally noticed something through the window behind Tom's head. Dawn was breaking. Real dawn, with a real sun. Thank you, spirits.

"We'll look first in the library," he said to Greg and Harry. Tom was getting out of bed as quickly as he had, but didn't bother with pants. "That's the last place they were, that we know of, anyway. But we're going to look together. Just like yesterday. No splitting up."

Harry dropped their clean clothes on the bed. Tom had rummaged in the drawers and was approaching him with fresh underwear for them both, taking him by the hand.

"Come on," he said, pulling him toward the bathroom. He stopped it.

"We don't have time to take a bath, Tom," Chakotay said, feeling extremely guilty, and stressed. He should have made sure his crew was safe and sound in their rooms before holing up in bed with his lover.

Tom looked at their friends. "Would you excuse us for a minute?" They nodded. He again pulled Chakotay to the bathroom with a look that brooked no arguments. He allowed it this time, closing the door behind them. "Look," Tom said, "we can get clean in five minutes. Remember? I know how to make it to the bridge in record time. You do not want to be finding Tuvok, smelling like we had a riotous night of endless sex, do you? He'll never look at you the same way again. I know you, you'd be pissed off at yourself for days..."

Tom let go of his hand and stepped down into the tub, adjusting the water temperature. "Tom."

"Get those pants off and get your adorable ass down here, Commander. Don't worry, a sponge bath. Three minutes, one to brush your teeth, and one to shave..."

He gave in, and even smiled to himself as he did it. Spirits, he loved this man...

Harry and Greg spent the minutes doing a quick straighten of the bed and gathering up the dirty clothing from the floor. Harry just happened to be close enough to the bedside table to hear the hail coming from inside the drawer.

"Greg, it's the captain calling," he said, opening the drawer.

"Janeway to Paris. Tom..."

They looked at each other. The badge beeped the link closed.

"Don't look so relieved, Har," Greg said with a smile.

Harry blushed, but grinned back.

"Janeway to Kim."

"Damn," Harry muttered. Greg's eyes widened, and the other man just shrugged in response. He tapped his chest. "Kim here, Captain."

"Harry, thank God. Where is everyone? I've tried to call Lieutenant Tuvok, Commander Chakotay and Tom. Greg was next after you. What is going on down there?!"

As Harry was about to answer, the bathroom door opened. Two of the men in question appeared in their underwear.

"Was that the captain I heard?" Commander Chakotay walked directly to him.

"Chakotay? Where have you been? Where's Tuvok?"

"I've been in the bath," he lied. "And Tuvok, well, he might be in a part of this building that was causing interference in our combadges. We noticed it yesterday. We're on our way to go look for him now." Tom had pulled on his clothes and handed Chakotay his.

"Why didn't you report that the building had this problem when we spoke last night?"

Chakotay finished putting on his pants. "It didn't occur to me." He dragged the tunic over his head.

"Damn it," Tom said, standing in front of the dresser.

"What's wrong, Tom?" Greg said.

"Socks," he answered.

"Tom, I've got an extra pair," Harry called.

"What the HELL is going on down there?"

"Captain," Chakotay said soothingly, "we're just getting dressed. We have a sock shortage which I did forget to mention to you. Can you beam us down... just a minute. Greg - you need any?" Greg shook his head, but looked at Harry significantly. Chakotay watched the two of them. "Please beam us down two pairs of socks, one for me and one for Tom."

Now Tom darted a look from Harry to Greg and back again. He nodded to Chakotay.

"You are in need of socks? Tuvok is missing and you need SOCKS?"

Chakotay threw up his hands. "Yes, Captain. We need socks. I apologize, but we need socks. To complete the mission, Tom and I will have to take a walk outside today, and I'd prefer not to do it in bare feet."

They all heard her sigh loudly. "Fine. Replicated or from your quarters?"

Tom waved his hands in the air almost frantically, shaking his head.

"Replicated," Chakotay said, his eyes locking with Tom's. "General rations. Ours were used as medical supplies, to stop Greg's bleeding."

"Very well. Anything else? A cozy sweater perhaps?"

"No, thank you, Captain. Now, we really have to go and check on Tuvok. So if there's nothing else on your end?"

She snorted. "Call me when you find him. That's not a request."

"Understood. Chakotay out." He nodded to Harry, who tapped the link closed. "Okay, let's go. Tom, bare feet for now, I guess."

"Fine with me," Tom said, taking the medkit out of the drawer.

The four men left to find the other two.

Walking rapidly through the building, holding Chakotay's hand, Tom risked a glance behind him. Greg had his arm around Harry's shoulders and they were whispering together. He couldn't make out the words, but Harry was getting quite animated, for him. He faced front for another few steps then risked another look. They were smiling at each other and holding hands. Tom leaned closer to Chakotay.

"Hey," he whispered, "I think we've got someone to double date with now."

Chakotay smiled warmly but briefly. Tom saw the grim look of determination settle back on his features.

"We'll find them, Chak. They'll be fine."

"Oh, we'll find them all right. And if they're not fine, Medrich will answer for it. All bets are off, Tom. We're the ones in control now."

Tom knew again, at that moment, why he loved this man so. Oh Captain, my captain...

The star was rising, casting early morning sunshine over the landscape. It hit the round dome of a small building a kilometer away from where the Voyager men were searching for their missing comrades. The dome was tiled in a metal which had discolored from years of neglect. What was once a warm red was now shades of purple, white and yellow, giving it an almost garish look. Beneath the dome Medrich and Stygian were placing the last candles, completing the circle.

"The Link should arrive when the sand has fallen," Medrich said.

Stygian looked at the ornate hourglass. It was only one-quarter full.

They trotted the final few meters to Tuvok and Neelix, falling to their knees beside the two men. They could all see the mind meld in progress, but it was the quivering of their friends' bodies that sent a chill down everyone's spine. Chakotay called their names repeatedly to no avail. He shook Tuvok's shoulder, again, there was no response. Tom was quickly running the tricorder over them.

"Tuvok's vitals are off the scale for a Vulcan. His blood pressure is dangerously high. Neelix seems to be holding his own. We have to break the meld..."

"Harry, sit behind Neelix, Greg, behind Tuvok," Chakotay ordered. "Get ready to catch them if they fall. Tom, you take one hand and I'll take the other."

With Harry and Greg braced behind each, Tom squatted on Tuvok's left side and Chakotay got on his right. The commander nodded, and both tried to pry Tuvok's fingers off Neelix's face.

"Shit," Tom grunted, "I'm afraid I'm gonna break 'em..."

"Tuvok, let go," Chakotay ordered.

"Not working," Tom said.

Still pulling on his fingers, Chakotay put his mouth against Tuvok's ear and shouted, "Lieutenant Tuvok! Pull your hands back! This is your commanding officer!"

They both noticed a weakening in the pressure Tuvok was exerting. It was just enough. They pulled harder, and with a noise that was almost a 'pop', the mind meld was severed, Tuvok collapsed into Greg with a moan, and Neelix, crying, was caught by Harry.

"Teacher, the hourglass has emptied," Stygian said with trepidation. It had actually been empty for a number of minutes.

Medrich stopped his pacing. The look on his face was one his pupil hoped he'd never see directed at him. "Yes, it has," he said quietly. He pulled the cube out of the bag and placed it on the altar, said the chant of the holy ones and peered into it. Stygian watched nervously as the moments passed. "That woman," Medrich finally spat out.

"From the ship? What is she doing, if I may be so humble as to inquire?" He couldn't imagine what she could do, from her orbit around the planet.

"The Link is speaking with her again, when he should be here. They have found the two in the library and think they can attend to them. She has caused her final problem." He hefted up the grimoire and placed it next to the cube. Repeating the chant of the holy ones, he opened it up and began to rifle through the pages.

"I assure you, Captain, that Tuvok is fine. He just needs to rest. Tom is taking care of him and Neelix," Chakotay said from the other side of the library. He didn't tell her that her medic was actually scanning the two crew members and giving him a thumbs up sign.

"Why were they there all night?"

He could very clearly hear her distrust, but at the same time, could very clearly hear that she wanted this trade mission to complete successfully. Too much time had been invested already to lose the deuterium now. He had no intention of letting that happen. "They just got carried away. You should see this library, Kathryn," he said, trying to put her more at ease, "there's thousands of books. They were trying to find out something about the Umbrans."

"And did they? Anything that will help you?"

"No, I'm afraid not. But don't worry. We'll get the deuterium, and be home in time for supper."

"You don't think that calling me will anger Medrich enough to cancel?"

Chakotay almost laughed. "No. I'll fill you in on why not when I see you. Trust me." He waited to hear her reaction to that. He rarely used it, and they both knew that when he did, she could. After a minute, she answered.

"Very well. Would you like your socks now?"

"Yes, please. Don't know about Tom, but my feet are cold," he teased.

"Not to mention that it's against regulations to be in uniform like that."

He sighed quietly. Though he wanted to be home, the thought of having to tell her exactly how few regulations they'd actually followed on Umbra was not something he looked forward to.

"She, also, like the Holder of Logic, is not easy to read," Medrich said. "There are many obstacles present..."

Stygian waited patiently, glancing at the pages of the grimoire he could see from his vantage point.

"Ah..., I understand," Medrich said, more quietly this time.

Stygian felt the rush, the thrill, that in any other culture he could acknowledge he loved. He could hardly wait to witness another example of the powers of the book.

Neelix was inconsolable, and Tom was racking his brain to find a way to get through to him. They were sitting on the couch in the lounge, with Tuvok, uncharacteristically, on the low table in front of them, almost knee to knee with Neelix. As though the position the two of them spent the night locked in was now somehow permanent. Tom wondered how the Vulcan was coping. He seemed tightly controlled. Almost too tightly controlled. Then he wondered why he'd describe Tuvok like that. A tightly controlled Vulcan?

"Neelix, look, the sun is up, did you notice?" Tom tried.

Neelix's eyes strayed to the windows in the room, but only gave a dulled response.

Tom looked to Tuvok. "...The grimoire excels in the areas of the spirit where darkness sleeps ..... Talk to him..." Of course. "Mr. Tuvok, may I speak to you in private?" He stood and motioned with his head.

"Of course, Lieutenant. Mr. Neelix, I will return momentarily," he stated. Again, Neelix's eyes strayed, upward this time, but Tom could see the Talaxian's fear flash across his face. "I will return," Tuvok repeated. Neelix nodded.

They walked to the other side of the room. "Mr. Tuvok, can I be perfectly frank with you?"

"Of course."

"You know what happened to the two of you, don't you? I assume you've figured it out, since you haven't asked us any questions."

"You are speaking of the spell that Mr. Neelix was subjected to."

"Yes. How are you doing? Did you experience it as well?"

"I am coping. My experience was unlike anything I've known, since I was a small child. With some days of meditation and work, I will again have mastery. However...." Tuvok stopped, again, uncharacteristically for him.

"However," Tom tried to complete the sentence, "at the moment, you're still having some emotional responses, like Neelix."

"That is correct."

"Well, Mr. Tuvok, I think that's the key to helping Neelix out of this..." He proceeded to explain to Tuvok how he'd helped Harry, how he was able to break the hold of the spell, by getting Harry to listen to him, to accept reality for what it truly was, and not what his mind was showing him. "You're close to him, Tuvok, you can get him through this."

Tuvok did not hesitate. "And I will do so. What Mr. Neelix is experiencing I would not wish on even a Romulan."

Tom smiled. "Mr. Tuvok, I believe you just made a very small joke."

"Indeed."

Just then Chakotay returned to the lounge, announcing that he and Greg and Harry had scrounged up some breakfast for everyone and it was time for a small briefing as well. He went to the couch and sat next to Neelix, patting him on the shoulder, convincing him to come and eat something with his friends. Again, Neelix grabbed the commander with only his eyes, but stood, and followed. Tuvok went to his side and never left it again.

"Stygian, here is the list of things you must gather for me. In addition, bring the paenural, for I believe we are in need of its guidance."

He looked the list over. There was just one thing he was unsure of. "Is the loq'uivot in a bottle or a box?"

"A box. On the third shelf, near the back."

"Very good, sir. I will return as quickly as I can," Stygian said, bowing his head.

Medrich nodded. After the younger man left, he went to the center of the circle, sank to his knees, and dropped his head to his hands. Anger was giving way to despair. He vowed to hang on to the anger until he was finished.

"We were put under a spell?!" Greg said loudly. His eyes darted to the other three sitting around him. Neelix and Tuvok were already upstairs in their room, with orders from the medic to give Neelix a hot bath, then put him to bed and talk. Tuvok had been quietly briefed a few meters away from the subdued morale officer, though it didn't appear to anyone that Neelix cared what was being said. "Why the hell did they do that to us?"

"I can't answer that," Chakotay said. "I don't know."

"Well, I feel sorta relieved." Harry looked around the table, smiling slightly. "I thought maybe I was finally cracking up from being in the Delta Quadrant too long."

Tom's heart stopped, turning suddenly ice cold. He was surprised he hadn't even thought about it, had not even really considered it. Then again, with everything else that had happened to him during and after the vision quest he shouldn't be, he supposed. A spell. "... not you, Tom, everyone else..." Chakotay'd been under a spell when he walked into his bath. He got up from the table, not hearing any of the conversation around him. "...you hold my Son's heart..." Did he? Did he really? Fuck, no, don't GO there, Tommy. He walked to the sideboard and stared at some fruit. "I'll have to be frugal with my rations..." If he'd been forced to eat a piece of the fruit he saw, he wouldn't be able to swallow it past the lump in his throat. Fuck.

He closed his eyes and tried to envision the clearing, with the trees standing tall in the forest, his falcon, Kolopak. "...love, 'Otay, until the end... I will, I promise..." His grandfather had welcomed him. Had made Chakotay promise. Had made him? Unwillingly? Tom could feel his hands clench into fists and he forced them to relax. He opened his eyes, turned, and walked out of the room, not answering the calls from the man with the black hair and warm skin.

Tom went straight to the front door, opening it for the first time since they'd arrived, not caring if he had shoes, or socks or even a coat or cloak. The planks of the porch were cool, but the sun was just reaching the top of the steps. Though he'd planned on heading down them to who knew where, he found himself stopping and sitting on the very top one, perching on the edge of the porch, hugging his knees to his chest, looking out over the now sun-washed landscape.

He hadn't felt this confused in a really, really long time. The more he thought about it, the more he let himself feel it, he came to the conclusion that he'd never been this confused in his entire life. He heard the door open and wiped his cheeks brusquely.

Chakotay looked at the man he loved more than his own life and his heart clenched. Twisted a bit. He willed it to relax. How was he going to explain it to Tom? He knew precisely when the spell left and he knew what had been in his heart before the damned thing had been done, or cast, or whatever they called it. On the one hand, he wanted to kill Medrich, on the other, well, he knew he never would have climbed down into that incredible bath with Tom on his own. But now, the man was hurting. He approached, then sat on the sunny step next to him.

"Do you mind if I sit here with you?"

Blue eyes turned to him and once again, his heart twisted. Tom shook his head. He tried to show him as much reassurance as possible by meeting his eyes. He didn't want his lover to bolt. He reached out slowly and gently placed his arm around Tom's shoulders. To his great relief, he relaxed into the position, leaning into Chakotay's chest. They stayed like that. The sunshine enveloped them in a welcome warmth, and light.

"Chakotay," Tom said quietly.

"What?" He squeezed the strong biceps beneath his fingers.

"I've never even come close to doing what we did last night, you know, wanting to commit myself to anyone. I need to know...," he faltered. Chakotay waited. "I need to know that I'm really the man you see, when you look at me. I want to be that man... I need to be that man..."

"And what, you don't think I'm seeing the real Tom Paris?"

Tom shrugged.

"You think that the spell is making me see things that aren't there? Making me see a Tom that doesn't really exist, just so the prophecy will be fulfilled?" He wanted this out in the open. Cards on the table. In the light of day.

"I don't know. I don't want to think that, but... but at this point, I'm not sure I could take it, if it all just went away. Not sure I could survive that. I need to know, if you see me."

"I don't know that I could survive that either," he said quietly. He didn't like to contemplate that as even a possibility. He would not let that happen. "You do know that the spell was broken before we even kissed, don't you?"

Tom shrugged again. "Well, then, why did they cast it?"

"Do you think I would have gotten into that bathtub with you if they hadn't? No matter how much I was daydreaming of doing just that?" Chakotay smiled.

This time a soft smile was given back to him. "Did seem a bit out of character. I just wish," Tom said, "that we could know exactly what kind of spell it was."

"Like I said, Tom, we hold the cards. We'll add this question to my list. They will answer it, if they want their Chosen One."

"You can't really do that, Chak, this is your destiny, too..."

"Medrich doesn't know how much he can trust me, does he?" Again, he smiled at Tom.

Tom's eyes darted from his, out to the lawn. "Speak of the devils," he muttered.

Chakotay followed his line of sight. There was Stygian, head bowed, a basket hanging on his arm, heading away from the building. He assumed toward the Temple. "Stygian!" he called loudly, standing. This was an opportunity too good to pass up. Sure enough, the man looked quite shaken as he whipped his head toward them. "I'd like to talk to you for a moment!"

Picking up the last of the dishes, Greg followed Harry into the kitchen. "I don't care, I still want to kill them both," he said vehemently. He put his load in the sink.

"Hey, I understand, believe me..."

"I wish we'd never found this damned planet," Greg muttered. He glanced at Harry and felt a kick in his stomach. You and your big mouth, Greg... Taking Harry's arm he made the man look him in the eye. He could easily read the hurt there. Sometimes, Har, you are an open book. "Harry, I didn't mean it that way, you know that, don't you? Come on, don't think that. Not of me. Please. I'd rather kill myself than hurt you."

Harry folded his arms and sighed quietly. "I know. This is just, well... I'm not sure what's happened from being here, and what's not, and what's gonna happen when we get back to the ship, and... it's...," he petered out, shrugging his shoulders.

"Nothing's going to change once we get back to the ship. Other than a lot of women being disappointed that you're out of circulation," Greg said. "I don't plan on letting you go, Harry." He watched for a change in attitude and saw it, just the beginnings. "Maybe I need to prove that to you. Right here. Right now." Yes, he thought, a little proof, for the holder of information to digest. He advanced.

"This isn't the place to do that, Greg, what if someone walks in on us," Harry said, laughing lightly. No way was he going to do anything his superiors might see.

But Greg continued to advance. "We're off duty, for all intents and purposes. Besides, your commanding officer and your best friend were necking right in front of us yesterday. Won't hurt for them to see something, too..."

Harry's heart began to thud in his chest. He held up his hands in an effort to keep Greg at bay. "I don't think..."

Greg interrupted him. "Yes, you do, Har. Sometimes a bit too much..." He grinned and Harry's heart took another trip into his ribcage. Greg's eyes were sparkling in a way that Harry was beginning to recognize. Oh shit.

Greg took another couple of steps forward, and Harry moved back. He knew he would not be able to control himself if this incredibly handsome man did something... They continued this little dance until his back hit a wall with a soft whomp. Oh shit. Greg, however, kept moving and, in desperation, Harry put his palms firmly on his chest. But words would not form. His eyes were locked on his new lover's. Greg took the hands off his chest and pinned them to either side of Harry's shoulders, gently, firmly, against the wall. His body followed, pressing himself full-length against Harry. Nose to nose. Breath to breath. Except that Harry had stopped breathing, the sensations he was experiencing were so heady, he was beyond it. Fuck, just kiss me.

"Harry," Greg said softly. "You okay?" He gently rotated his pelvis.

Harry instantly hardened further and almost fainted. He nodded. He could feel Greg's erection forming against his own. Just kiss me... He wasn't sure why he was waiting, and not taking action, but it seemed right. And being pinned, by someone a bit stronger and larger, was amazingly erotic. He licked his lips. Greg was on them in a flash. Harry's stomach dipped. Their mouths opened and the kiss deepened quickly, with a moan from both, while their pelvises moved together almost of their own accord. Oh shit, this ... is ... wonderful...

Tuvok studied the man lying on the bed, curled once more into almost a fetal position. He settled next to him, resting against the headboard, close enough, he hoped, to give Neelix some comfort. He wasn't talking much. Tuvok was certain that Neelix was still suffering in the throes of the spell that the Umbrans had cast upon him, and by extension Tuvok himself. Though the commander had confirmed it, the why of the whole thing was unknown. He was also certain there was much more to what was happening than the ex-Maquis captain was telling him. He could accept the fact that the Umbrans were forcing the commander and Mr. Paris into the position of being the main negotiators. If it was a custom of their culture that whosoever was emotionally involved with the commander be at his side for the final work, he'd have to accept that. It just made so little logical sense to him. And, unfortunately, he didn't know what to do about that aspect of their situation. His commanding officer had directed him to keep certain experiences out of any reports made to the captain. For now. And knowing her as he did, he knew the captain wouldn't concern herself, as long as they all survived, the deuterium was obtained, and no major PD violations occurred. Well, surviving was not necessarily a good thing, in Mr. Neelix's case. And Neelix was his primary concern, his primary task. He would not let him down.

Chakotay looked at Medrich's assistant and could see that he very definitely would be able to get answers from him. "Stygian. You and Medrich put a spell on me the first afternoon we were here, didn't you?"

If an Umbran could have paled, he did. "Sir... I..." He stared, wringing his hands.

"There's no need to deny it. The Chosen One told me, told us. And if you want me to deliver him to you later, you will answer me. Now." Chakotay put his best command voice behind the request, making it sound like an order to an ensign j.g.

Stygian's eyes widened. "Deliver him later?"

"Yes, of course, we both know what is supposed to happen in a couple of hours. Now, answer me."

"Hours?" Stygian studied his hands. "Oh, cycles. But...," he muttered, then met Chakotay's eyes again. "What exactly did he say to you, if you would please be so kind as to tell me?"

Chakotay sighed. "I am to deliver him to Medrich at the ascent of the midday sun. Which I will do. If you answer my questions. It's up to you. I'm more than happy to return to my ship right now. We can find deuterium on the next planet...." He shrugged, feigning indifference.

The Umbran's eyes widened even further. "You mustn't do that. Sir. Midday sun? Midday...," he said, looking from Chakotay to Tom and back again. Something settled on his features. "Very well. I will answer your questions. Yes, a spell was cast upon your soul. You are the Link."

Chakotay reached back and grabbed Tom's hand, clutching it tightly. Tom came forward and stood with him. "What type of spell was it?" His heartbeat sped up, which surprised him. He was certain...

"A simple incantation."

He resisted the urge to slap the thin man. "What was the desired effect? And was it successful?"

"Oh, that is what you wish to know. It was simple - meaning not as long lasting as others. A simple spell of movement."

"Movement?" What the hell did that mean?

"Yes, sir. It was clear to me that you and the Guide here would not become joined without some help. I cast it," he said proudly. "A spell that told your soul to move your body. Just a small spell. We knew from the paenural that your mate was on the ship." He nodded in Tom's direction. "I thought you just needed a little push. That's all." He cocked his head. "It was successful, wouldn't you agree?"

He ignored the question. "So it didn't affect how I felt, or thought, or reacted, did it?"

"Oh, no, sir, I couldn't do that. You are the Link," he said simply.

Chakotay turned to Tom. He was smiling broadly. Their eyes locked. He felt a smile break across his face, and relaxed into it.

"You are the Link," Tom said, still smiling.

Chakotay pulled Tom into his arms. They embraced tightly, breathing deeply.

"Sir, if there's nothing else..." Stygian said quietly.

Chakotay lifted only his hand and waved the man off. "No, we'll see you in a little while..." He didn't bother to watch the man leave. He held Tom, and thanked his ancestors for all of the gifts in his life.

Harry was almost to the point of no return. He was trying his best to remain standing, though his knees were buckling and his legs were losing any sense of what they were designed for. One part of his mind reminded him that Greg wouldn't let him fall, but the rest of his gray matter was totally shut down.

He tried to wriggle his hands out of Greg's grasp, and vaguely noticed that the moment he did, Greg let go immediately. He managed to get his arms around the strong shoulders pressing into him. Which only fanned the flames. Greg ground his pelvis into Harry's. He groaned down Greg's throat. He felt the tingle of an impending orgasm begin in earnest.

"Excuse me for disturbing you two..." A voice. From somewhere.

Greg pulled back enough to turn his head. His eyes trailed after him. Oh. Fuck.

"Yes, sir?" Greg said lightly.

Harry couldn't move his eyes away. Commander Chakotay was smiling, and he couldn't detect any note of insincerity in his face. Still, he wanted to crawl into a hole. Right there.

"I apologize, Greg, Harry. But Tom and I are going to be leaving soon and won't be back for at least an hour, possibly more. When we return, all of us will be transporting back to Voyager. I'd like you to keep an eye on Mr. Tuvok and Neelix. Make sure they're okay, and don't need anything. I will be available by combadge, though while we're meeting with Medrich it may take me a minute or so to respond. Understood?"

"Understood, Commander," Greg said. He was smiling, however. Unconcerned.

"Very good. Carry on." The commander took a few steps to the door, but then turned back to them. "And Harry, don't worry, I trust that you'll handle yourself with all the professionalism I've come to expect once we return to the ship. But I understand Tom has some double dating plans in mind, so I'm sure I'll see you kissing Gregory here many more times. He's very persuasive when he wants to be. Okay?" Again the smile. Both dimples.

"Okay. Sir." It was all he could think to say.

"Well, then, carry on. Enjoy." He left.

Harry looked deeply into his lover's brown eyes. They were still sparkling, and all for him. He succumbed as Greg's mouth covered his.

Stygian walked into the Temple, taking the basket off his arm as he shut the door behind him. His teacher was sitting in the center of the circle of candles, his head bowed, murmuring indistinguishable words. He didn't hesitate, but walked directly into the circle and settled himself. "I have brought all that you need, Teacher," he said solemnly.

Medrich raised his head. He looked dangerous. Stygian's heart began to hum in anticipation. "And I have prepared everything else while you were gone. Come." Medrich stood up and went to the altar.

Emptying out the contents of the basket, Stygian ignored a moment of conscience that tried to get his attention. "I've been thinking, Sir, on the way back here. Perhaps there is one other person on the Voyager who is in need of some soul-searching. The woman, Torres. Who works on the engines."

Medrich looked at him. Stygian so enjoyed the thrill he felt right then, that he almost regretted what would happen when he told the truth. Almost. But the Chosen One had to be found, after all, or all of his studies would be for nought. So he would enjoy the work of the holy ones before telling Medrich. For he had hated the woman with the ridges on her forehead the moment he'd met her. She did not understand her place at all.
 
 

On to Part Twelve

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