Title: To See Through The Image
Author: Ainzfern
Series: DS9-M/U
Code: Tuvok/MU Bashir
Rating: NC-17 (M/M - VIOLENCE[implied] - NON CONS[implied]

Disclaimer: Paramount owns STAR TREK ... etc and so on and so forth! My only pay here is personal joy

Summary: Lieutenant Commander Tuvok finds himself locked in a race against time to find a safe way to return to the Gamma Quadrant, at the same time, having to deal with an unwelcome fascination by the brash young rebel pilot, Captain Bashir.

Archiving:  Certainly- if you want to- please let me know.

Feedback: Yes please! All comments welcome

Author's Note: HUGE thanks to Cait for doing the BETA for me!! I'd also like to thank Janet, Julie, Salatrel & T'Lin for the additional info on Vulcans.(I hope I haven't missed anyone...)

= = = = = = = = = =

To See Through The Image
 

"Huh...will ya look at that!"

"Oh yeah, hey get Tuvok up here! He's GOT to see this!"

Voices, muffled and distant, pierced his throbbing head. Lieutenant Commander Tuvok slowly opened his eyes and attempted to focus on the blurred face in front of him.

As he did, memories, sharp and disjointed came back to him.

He had been on Voyager...something about a wormhole. Another wormhole. They had been sent through by Janeway. No, not sent. He had volunteered, him and Ensign Bakett, one of Torres' engineers. But something had gone wrong. There had been a horrific sound, a sudden violent lurch. They had lost contact with Voyager, their shuttle damaged. Explosions, sparks, searing smoke and pain. They had ended up...

Where?

Slowly, he pushed himself into a sitting position. He cleared his swollen throat and addressed the human who was crouched down in front of him.

"I am Lieutenant Commander Tuvok of the Federation Starship Voyager," he identified himself.

The human in front of him looked startled. He had an open friendly face, square-jawed and ruddy. His blond hair was tousled and his blue eyes, while somewhat wary, seemed kind.

Before he could reply, a sharp voice behind him spoke up, "The Federation? Oh God, not another moralist from beyond the void!"

The human in front of Tuvok turned to the speaker with a look of annoyance. "Julian!" he said in a softly accented burr, "Shut your yap! I'll handle this."

"Oh of course, Great Leader!" came the sarcastic reply, "I'll just stand over here and look pretty, that OK with you?"

Tuvok shifted his bleary eyes across to the young human standing near them. He was tall and slender, with dark hair falling in thick unkempt waves across his shoulders. His chin was darkly stubbled with several days' worth of beard, and his large, dark eyes were hard and unfriendly.

"My name's Miles," the human in front of him introduced himself. "I s'pose you could say I'm in charge around here."

"I see." Tuvok replied.

"The Federation, you say?" Miles continued. "You came from a ship? Not another station?"

"That is correct. My crewmate and I originate from a Federation vessel," Tuvok confirmed. "Might I ask...where is my crewmate?"

Miles sighed perfunctorily. "He's dead...and by rights, you should be too. It was pure luck we managed to pick you up before that deathtrap you were in completely fell apart!"

Tuvok closed his eyes briefly. Although outwardly he showed no distress, he was deeply sorry that Bakett had not survived. Too many of his crewmates had been lost since Voyager set out all the years ago.

"Were you able to salvage my shuttle?" he asked.

"What you left of it, you mean!" Julian interjected.

Miles glared at Julian briefly. "We salvage everything, Mr Tuvok." he told the Vulcan, omitting his title. Obviously, his rank meant very little here.

Miles stood and held a hand down to Tuvok, pulling him to his feet. The Vulcan's head swam dangerously for a moment, but he maintained his balance...just.

"C'mon," Miles said, gripping him firmly by the upper arm, "We'll get you to our sickbay. I don't think I care to just leave you lying on the transporter pad."

As they moved through the dim corridors, Tuvok looked around. "May I ask where I am, exactly?"

"Oh, listen to that man talk!" Julian remarked from behind them. "So polite...I mean it's fucking poetry!"

Miles looked at Tuvok apologetically. "You get used to him after a while," he said. "Our Julian doesn't much care for Federation visitors."

Julian strode past them. "Only because they have a habit of punching me in the face!" he snarled.

Miles watched the slender man stalk around the corner, then he shrugged.

"In answer to your question, you're on Terok Nor, a space station formerly operated by the Alliance, and located near the Alliance planet of Bajor. The station is now under the control of a band of Terran Rebels."

"Rebels?" Tuvok quirked a delicate eyebrow.

Miles gave a short laugh. "Yeah...us!" Grinning at the Vulcan's perplexed expression, Miles continued, "I hate to be the one to tell you, Mr Tuvok, but you've tripped out of your own universe and into a war zone!"

*****

Tuvok was growing increasingly frustrated. Pushing away from the computer console that Commander O'Brien had grudgingly allowed him access to, he closed his eyes and attempted a brief meditative exercise. Breathing slowly and deeply, he centered himself again, concentrating on clearing his mind of all distractions, bringing himself back to focus on the task at hand.

The computer system from his shuttle had been rescued along with him, but it had also been extensively damaged. It was Tuvok's hope that he might be able to salvage the information from the flight recordings. If he could do that, he could program a series of simulations that may piece together exactly how he had come to enter this universe. >From there, he also might find the key to returning, to getting back to Voyager.

The odds were not good. So far, all his careful coaxing of the jumbled memory banks had revealed only a few scraps of information. He had to get more than this, or face the fact that he was stranded in this dark and unfamiliar place forever.

For the most part, Tuvok was left alone. After the first day or so, the rebels began to regard him as just another nuisance. He was apparently not there to assist them in their fight for freedom against the Alliance, and so was not considered one of them.

His single meeting with his counterpart had been similarly brief. The mirror Tuvok had regarded him with flat unfriendly eyes, making no attempt to hide his discomfort at being introduced to him. He even went so far as to make a point of letting Tuvok know that he "didn't much like the look of him."

Captain Bashir, who witnessed the exchange, had found that remark exceedingly amusing.

In fact, outside of the occasional greeting from the rebel Commander, O'Brien, the hotheaded young pilot was the only person who did regularly speak to the lost Vulcan.

Tuvok sincerely wished that he wouldn't.

The young human was becoming a constant source of vexation for the normally stoic Vulcan. Tuvok had made a point of explaining that his kind were not like the Vulcans of this universe. He did not appreciate overt touches or casual innuendo. He found such things most disconcerting.

That had proven to be a tactical error.

Bashir now delighted in taking every opportunity to do the exact opposite of Tuvok's wishes. He stood too close. He reached out and touched him whenever he could. He flirted outrageously, and the more stiff and uncomfortable Tuvok became, the more he did it.

Even a plea to the young pilot from O'Brien to leave Tuvok in peace, only seemed to make the situation worse. After all, Bashir was known for his disobedience.

Captain Janeway had once remarked, "Sooner or later, we all have a cross to bear."

It would appear that Captain Bashir was his.

The situation made Tuvok more committed than ever to getting back to his own universe. He knew time was against him. Voyager would only be able to stay for so long in the region of space near the wormhole that had sent him here. Once their scans and probes indicated that he was truly gone, they would have no choice but to move on.

"Well, hello there, Lieutenant Commander," Bashir's low voice came from behind him.

Tuvok stifled a sigh. It was getting to the point where very soon, he might have to resort to physical violence in order to discourage the young man's attentions. He did not want for this to happen. He abhorred such actions and besides, with his superior Vulcan strength, there was always the risk that he might injure Bashir. Irritating as the slender human was, Tuvok had no desire to actually hurt him.

"Captain Bashir, I am exceedingly busy. If you would excuse me?" He turned back to the console.

Moments later, he felt the human's hands slide over his shoulders, massaging the lean, tense muscles. "You need to relax, Tuvok. I've got lots of ways I could help you. Some of them, you might even like..."

Tuvok jerked his shoulders out from under Bashir's hands and stood. Turning on the human, his dark, flashing eyes met large, hazel ones that twinkled with amusement.

He felt his frustration rising again. What was it about this young man that bothered him so? Even Neelix, with all his overly good-natured attempts at friendship hadn't been quite this distressing.

"Captain Bashir," he said evenly, "I have told you before. I do not wish for you to `pet' me."

"You don't mean it," Bashir purred at him, his delight at how quickly he was able to get a response quite evident.

"I can assure you that I do. I am not interested in your overtures. I do not require a sexual coupling."

Bashir smirked. Far an instant, Tuvok's fist actually twitched, then once again, he composed himself.

"Tuvok," Bashir began, his voice low and husky, "I'm just trying to be friendly...make you feel welcome."

"There is no need, Captain Bashir," Tuvok said stiffly, "and might I add, that a genuine effort to welcome a visitor does NOT include these kinds of aggressive sexual demands."

Bashir blinked. For a moment, he simply stared at the Vulcan while a myriad of expressions flashed across his beautiful face. Then suddenly, he threw back his head and laughed. He laughed until tears were rolling down his cheeks, until he was gasping for breath and leaning over Tuvok's computer console.

"You..." he spluttered, "you think that's what I'm doing? That I'm building up to pouncing on you?" He wiped the tears from his eyes. "Oh Tuvok! That's just TOO rich!" He started laughing again, but quickly controlled himself. The he moved closer, once again invading the Vulcan's space. Finding his legs pressed back against his chair, Tuvok had only two choices. He could stand still or he could sit down... and he really didn't care for the second option.

"You've got it all wrong, Tuvok," Bashir whispered, his large eyes growing heated and dark. "I don't want to fuck you."

He moved closer, pressing himself against the unyielding body of the Vulcan. "I want you to fuck me."

Tuvok broke. With both hands, he gave the young man a sharp shove, propelling him backwards across the room. Bashir stumbled but managed to retain his balance. For an instant, Tuvok saw real rage in the human's face. Then, just as quickly, it was gone. Captain Bashir was once again appraising him with sultry curiosity.

His full mouth curled into a seductive smile and he nodded knowingly.

"You'll come around," he told him softly. "They always do."

Then, with a final heated look, he left.

Slowly, Tuvok expelled a shuddering breath. Once again, he closed his eyes and concentrated on calming himself, suppressing his feelings of anger. Trying to regain his sense of mental and emotional balance.

It was a very long time before he sat down to work again.

*****

Tuvok looked up sharply from his computer console as he heard a conversation drifting in from the corridor outside his small workstation.

It had been nearly two days since his last encounter with Captain Bashir. He had even dared to hope that the young human had finally decided to look elsewhere for a diversion.

He had learned from Commander O'Brien, however, that Bashir's absence had nothing to do with him, or his lack of interest. The human had volunteered to lead a dangerous mission to Bajor.

"Those Alliance bastards have mined our supply routes," O'Brien had told him disgustedly. "Not all of `em mind... just enough to make running our ships in and out of Terok Nor space too damn dangerous to attempt! We don't even know exactly where they've set the nets up. We only found out about it because we lost two transports!"

Curious, Tuvok had asked, "And Captain Bashir's mission to Bajor?"

"Our own contacts have discovered which branch of the Bajoran Military has done this. Bashir and his team are going to attempt to find the location charts of the mine nets. If we can find `em, we can clear `em."

Tuvok's eyebrow had risen. "A formidable task."

O'Brien had laughed. "You're not kidding! And the worse they are, the keener he is to lead `em. I tell you, that boy's got a death wish, make no mistake!"

Tuvok had been somewhat surprised at just how concerned he had been about the human. He was troublesome, arrogant and he pestered Tuvok endlessly, and yet... he found that he truly did not wish for any harm to come to him. Perhaps it was just that he was coming to know that face as familiar, or perhaps it was that behind the brash façade, Tuvok sensed a glimmer of real intelligence and depth.

Now, as he heard the voices raised in the corridor, he rose from his workstation and followed the sound.

"Whadaya mean?" he heard one of the rebels exclaim. "Is Bashir back or what?"

As Tuvok fell in behind the group, one of the Terran's companions replied, "Oh yeah, he's back... or what's left of him. O'Brien's got him in Sickbay now."

With a sense of foreboding, Tuvok branched off and headed along a separate corridor, towards the station's medical facilities.

He did in fact, have a question for O'Brien, that much was true. But he was also concerned for Bashir's welfare. The snippet of conversation he had overhead from the two rebels had not been encouraging.

As he rounded the next corner, he heard O'Brien's voice raised in anger.

"Go-on! Get out of here!" he was shouting. "You've all got jobs to do, so DO `em. We don't need a bloody audience!"

Sullenly, the small group gathered around the entrance to Sickbay dispersed. As they cleared, Tuvok approached the doorway.

What he saw lying on the bed inside, shocked and appalled his Vulcan sensibilities. Silently, he stared in disbelief.

Captain Bashir was lying semi-conscious on the bed while a middle aged Terran medic carefully attended him. He was filthy, covered in dirt and excrement. He was naked, and Tuvok could see the multitude of bruises, burns and lacerations that covered his shaking body. He had obviously been extensively tortured. As he looked closer, Tuvok could also see, under the fresh wounds, far older scars lacing the lean chest.

Suppressing a shudder, the Vulcan began to understand this human's odd nature. From the looks of it, Captain Bashir had been cruelly mistreated for most of his young life.

Tuvok had been on the receiving end of torture himself. He could only guess at the depth of damage that sort of consistent brutality had caused the young man's psyche.

"Commander O'Brien," he said softly.

"I thought I said... Oh it's you, Mr Tuvok." O'Brien's blue eyes were hard. "I'm a bit busy right now. Do you want something?"

"I am sure it can wait till a more suitable time."

O'Brien laughed mirthlessly. "No time is suitable in this place, man! What do you want?"

Tuvok drew in a breath, but instead of addressing his own request, he asked, "Was he successful in his mission?" His dark eyes flicked to the injured man.

O'Brien sighed. "Yes and no."

Tuvok looked at him.

"From what he's been able to tell me, he DID locate the charts we needed. But he was caught. His team is dead and he was scheduled for execution � after a period of `chastisement' o'course!" His mouth twisted. "Our people barely got him out in time."

"You said he saw the charts," Tuvok noted.

"Oh yeah... But they gave him a memory inhibitor. It's a little toy the Bajorans like to use. He can recall seeing the chart right enough, but he can't remember what was on it. He probably never will." The rebel Commander looked down at the brutalized human and sighed. "They've let him remember the torture though. I'm sure he's got full and lovin' recall of that!"

Tuvok looked back and forth between O'Brien and the young Captain. An idea had come to him. A dangerous one to be sure, but possibly the only leverage he might have here. It was just as imperative to Tuvok that the mines around Terok Nor be cleared. He was out of time. If his next set of simulations worked, he would need to leave immediately.

Bracing himself, he spoke. "Commander, I may be able to help."

O'Brien glanced at him.

"There is a technique used by Vulcans in my universe," Tuvok explained. "A mind-meld. It is entirely possible that I may be able to retrieve the information from Captain Bashir's memories."

O'Brien's eyes widened. "You mean you can read his mind?"

Tuvok nodded slowly. "In a manner of speaking. I can create a link to his thoughts."

O'Brien's eyes narrowed. "And what do you want in exchange, Mr Tuvok?"

"A ship. If my calculations for returning to the Gamma quadrant prove correct, I will need access to a shuttle."

O'Brien thought about it. "Well, I suppose one shuttle is fair payment if you can save our whole fleet. What do you need to perform this `meld' of yours?"

"Privacy... quiet. That is all."

"If you don't mind, I'll stay. Julian's been through enough already. Forgive me, but I need to be sure you don't hurt him."

Tuvok nodded. "This is acceptable."

O'Brien turned to the medic. "Are you done?"

The Terran nodded. "For now... I'll be in the back if you need me." With a brief look at Tuvok, he left.

O'Brien sighed again as the Vulcan approached the bed. "Good luck to you, Mr Tuvok. You'll need it. I shouldn't think you'll like much of what you find in there."

Taking a deep breath, Tuvok reached out and laid his fingers gently on the human's pale, sweaty face.

*****

//...thoughts to my thoughts.//  Eyes closed, body perfectly still, gentle fingertips resting on Bashir's face, Tuvok carefully sought to gain a connection to the young man's clamoring thoughts.

The first thing that assailed him was the incredible sense of anguish in Bashir's mind. The human was in agony. Full of fear, hatred, and self-loathing. A continual mental wail echoed endlessly through his thoughts.

//It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!//

Slowly, Tuvok attempted to soothe him, projecting a feeling of calm and compassion to him through the newly formed link between them. He sensed that Bashir knew he was there. The young human's awareness acknowledged him, clung to him.

//Help me! Please, help me!//  The silent mental scream rattled Tuvok's teeth.

//You must allow me... I will not force you.// Tuvok sent his own thoughts back.

Painstakingly, as he felt Bashir relax a little, Tuvok moved forward, searching carefully. The most recent experiences were easy to find. The searing echoes of fresh pain and humiliation lead him straight there.

He could sense the memory inhibitor, tightly closed around a small section of Bashir's awareness. It seemed formidable, like a vast, black impenetrable wall. But Tuvok's mind was very strong and well trained in overcoming such obstacles. With delicate precision, he released it slowly, feeling the human's astonishment as the memory suddenly became clear.

There... the task was completed. His promise to O'Brien had been kept. He knew he should now gather his own awareness inward and withdraw, severing the fledging bond between their two minds.

But...

There was so much pain here. So much horror. Tuvok was a Vulcan to his fingertips, but this did not mean that he lacked compassion, that he was not capable of caring.

He could feel Bashir's agony slicing at him through his defenses. He simply could not remove his consciousness without at least trying to help.

He worded the silent question, asking permission to see. //Show me...//

He was totally unprepared for the violence of Bashir's response, for the intensity of his memories. He nearly swooned as image after image was thrown up in front of him.

Bashir, barely an adolescent, forced into the foulest form of slavery. Passed from Master to Master to be used as they saw fit. He was a thing, an object. Dragged from his bed in the middle of the night to be thrown down in front of visiting dignitaries as an amusing way of closing a deal. Offered up for their entertainment. Savagely beaten if he made so much as a sound as he was repeatedly violated.

Then, as he grew older and the scars of his mistreatment began to lower his value, he was passed from degenerate Master to degenerate Master. Cruel and brutal men who got their pleasure out of causing him pain.

Finally the mines, the processing plants. The beatings and casual rapes by Bajoran and Cardassian overseers alike. His body scarred and malnourished, but his face still pretty enough to warrant attention.

As his life continued, Bashir's mind had grown darker and darker. Bitterness and hatred his only constant companions. His nightmares so familiar that they were almost comforting.

And deep inside of him, within that tiny quiet place in his mind, the human longed for salvation. He longed for gentleness and love. All those years of horror and pain and still this tiny hope persisted.

Tuvok would not take the memories away. He would never do that.

But what he could do was help Bashir to take control of them. He could show him how to distance himself from them. To view them from the perspective of remoteness, relegating them to their proper place as past experiences, rather than the all-consuming black curtain that so shrouded his life now.

His decision irrevocably made, Tuvok opened his own mind to the suffering human, projecting a sense of calm and security, encouraging the young man to trust him.

//I will show YOU...//

*****

Miles watched in silence, the hair on the back of his neck beginning to rise as he realized that Tuvok was actually communicating with the young Captain.

As the moments passed, he observed them closely. He saw the initial confusion on Bashir's face, followed by an agonized grimace from the Vulcan.

//Well, I DID warn him.// Miles thought.

Tears from the human. A sudden, intense look of resolution from Tuvok.

They both froze. It was eerie sitting here next to them, Miles decided. He got the strong impression that somehow he was intruding on something very private, even intimate. Still, he was not about to leave. He'd made a promise to watch over the young man, and Miles always kept his word to his men. It was one of the reasons he was still their leader.

He stiffened to attention as he heard both men exhale slowly. Tuvok was straightening, pulling his hands away from Bashir's face.

Their eyes opened. Totally oblivious to him, they simply stared at each other.

Then, to Miles' astonishment, Captain Bashir smiled.

= = = = = = = = = = =

While he ran his final simulations, Tuvok, as usual, pushed away from his console and used the time to perform a series of meditative exercises. The calming familiarity of this routine was more welcome than ever. Tuvok had much on his mind, much to distract him.

Of course, it was his own fault. He could not deny that. He had allowed himself to be distracted by Bashir's suffering, and as a result, he had gone too deep during the mind meld with him. That was always an ever-present risk during the procedure, but nevertheless, Tuvok was a mature Vulcan who had been well trained. He had many years of experience to draw upon. It should not have happened.

He had realized the situation even as he left Sickbay. He could still feel the echoes of Bashir's awareness within his own mind. He had failed to completely sever the link between them. The bond was not yet permanent, but it was there.

It was more important than ever that Tuvok leave Terok Nor. The longer he stayed, the harder it would be to break the connection between him and the human. The fledgling link between them would fade with time, but only if they remained far enough away from each other.

On Terok Nor this was not possible.

"Tuvok?" Captain Bashir's voice came from behind him. The tone was hesitant. The arrogant note that usually colored his conversations with him was conspicuously absent.

Tuvok opened his eyes. "Captain Bashir. How may I assist you?"

The human moved a little further into the room, stopping before he invaded the Vulcan's space.

"I wanted to say thank you, Tuvok," Bashir told him. "You left Sickbay before I got the chance."

Tuvok nodded, acknowledging the human's gratitude. "How are you recovering?" he inquired.

Bashir smiled. "Surprisingly well, all things considered." The smile faded then and he looked at Tuvok with serious eyes. "What you did for me," he said, shaking his head in wonder, "I can't describe how this feels! I just... for the first time, I feel as though I'M in control, you know?"

He spread his hands helplessly. "I just wanted you to know."

Tuvok nodded at him again. "I am pleased I was able to help you." He stood then, facing the human somberly. "I have much to do, Captain Bashir. If you would excuse me?"

The young man nodded, his face slightly disappointed. "Oh yeah, sure. Sorry to disturb you." He shifted his weight, as if preparing to turn and leave.

Tuvok actually felt him change his mind.

He braced himself as the human landed against his chest, wrapping those long arms around his shoulders. As Tuvok went to voice his protest, Bashir glued his lips to the Vulcan's, his tongue plunging into his mouth.

With a groan, Tuvok grabbed great handfuls of Bashir's long, soft hair, intending to pull him away. But the human misinterpreted the gesture and instantly responded as if Tuvok were encouraging him. He tightened his hold, pressing his hips against the Vulcan's, sinuously rubbing himself against the older man.

Tuvok gasped as he felt his body responding to the contact between them. Was it his heart he heard racing, or Bashir's? The sound of blood pulsing through their veins, the rising heat of physical desire. He should pull away, break the contact. He could not let this continue.

Almost of their own accord, his arms slid down around the human's slender waist. Bashir moaned, clutching at him. Tuvok's own sex began to harden. He could feel his shaft rising from the protective abdominal sheath that housed his penis, seeking stimulation. His breath came faster as they plundered each other's mouths. Their tongues dancing, their lips bruising against teeth, their hips grinding together.

Primal, driving lust rose in Tuvok's body. Oh, this WAS good. It felt incredible! He hadn't experienced sensations like this since...

//T'Pel! My T'hy'la!//

Shame swamped him. Anguish dampened his arousal. With a savage growl, he tore his mouth away from Bashir and pushed him back, holding him by the upper arms in a painful grip.

"Stop!" he rasped, eyes blazing.

"Tuvok!" Bashir stared at him, his face nakedly confused. "I thought..."

Tuvok shook him sharply. "You thought nothing!" He hissed. "I do not require this manner of thanks from you!"

Bashir's face blanched. He looked shocked, appalled, as if Tuvok had slapped him.

"You think this is gratitude?" he said hoarsely. "You think I'm doing this to REPAY you?"

The young man wrenched himself out of Tuvok's hands. "FUCK YOU!" he shouted. "You're just like all the rest! You show me something good... you let me have a taste of something sweet and then you just snatch it away!"

Instantly, Tuvok was sorry. He could FEEL how much his words had hurt the human. He opened his mouth to speak.

"NO!" Bashir cut him off, pain and bitterness twisting his beautiful face. "No, you can't take it back! I've seen it now, you're the same." He shook his head helplessly. "You're just the same! Once they realize that I'm nothing but a WHORE, they can't get away fast enough!"

"Captain Bashir... Julian."

Bashir reeled away from him, tears welling up in his large eyes. "Don't use my name! Don't even talk to me anymore!"

With one final, shattered look, he turned and fled.

*****

In his small quarters, in the dark, Tuvok focused on the single small candle he had replicated.

There was no Hall of Ancient Thoughts, no bright crystal orb in which to place his beloved's Katra. No family, blood nor bond, to stand at his shoulder and lift their voices with his in his grief. There was no traditional verse for the dead, no words of comfort for the living... nevertheless, a mourning ceremony was in progress.

And in this dark, bleak place that he must now call his own, even a single tiny flame burned brightly enough.

It was time to accept the truth of the matter. Tuvok was staying on Terok Nor. The final simulations had revealed nothing. Even Tuvok's vast intelligence could not hope to divine the large amounts of data that had been lost when his shuttle came through the rift. There were just too many variables.

Commander O'Brien had been just as glad to know he was staying. He was no fool. He knew the type of training and skills Tuvok would have acquired in his many years with the Federation. A man like Tuvok would be a welcome addition.

It was from the rebel Commander that Tuvok had learned of another possible way back to his own universe. Through the wormhole to the Federation Station, Deep Space Nine. However, O'Brien had made it very clear that at best, traversing that rift was a hit and miss affair. He could just as easily end up dead as back where he belonged. In addition, with the Alliance constantly watching that area, attempting to cross into the wormhole was tantamount to suicide.

Such an attempt, in Tuvok's opinion, was illogical. He dismissed the notion.

So now, resigned to his fate, Tuvok had to make his peace. He had to find some way to say goodbye to his previous life.

Under the circumstances, Tuvok thought that a mourning ceremony was most appropriate.

Closing his eyes, he thought about T'Pel. Her brilliant mind, her subtle wit, her elegant grace and beauty. The feel of her skin and the smell of her hair. As he filled his mind with the image of her, his throat tightened. His breath caught on an unborn cry of pain.

//T'Pel. My one. My T'hy'la.//  Tuvok cast his thought out into the vast void of space. Whether she could hear him was irrelevant. This was the best and only thing he could do.

//You must be as the dead are for me, T'Pel. I free you. Mate again. Bond our family with the new and raise our children. I know that they will make me proud. I have always loved you, my T'hy'la, and I always will. I was honored to be your mate.//

Slowly, he leaned forward and snuffed out the candle. In the sudden dark, Tuvok bowed his head and removed the restraints of his training and control.

His chest ached. His breath became harsh and ragged. Quietly, but with all the intensity of a broken heart, he surrendered to his grief. To his loss and his pain. In this brief moment of mourning, appropriate to the circumstances, Tuvok allowed himself the luxury of tears.

*****

Standing in the corridor outside Captain Bashir's quarters, Tuvok spent some time debating with himself over the logic of his decision.

It did make sense,(as much as anything in this bleak place did). Tuvok would be remaining here, and sooner or later, he would need a mate. Of course he could, as he had planned on Voyager, shut himself away and ease the pain of his future Ponn Far with meditations and rigorous mental and physical exercises. But then again, thinking logically, why do so if he did not have to?

Bashir was youthful and strong. He was also, Tuvok hoped, still amenable to the notion. He knew that the mind meld between them had softened much of the young human's residual fury at the universe. But he also knew that Bashir was very, very angry at Tuvok's continued rejection of him.

It was Tuvok's hope that Bashir would not be so enraged as to refuse his explanation. The situation had changed. Now it was his turn to appeal to the human.

Squaring his shoulders, he pressed the chime.

"Yeah?" came the muffled reply.

Assuming that was an invitation, Tuvok entered the human's quarters.

It took a moment for the Vulcan's eyes to adjust to the dim light within. Once they did, he could see Captain Bashir seated on his bunk, leaning back against the wall. He was undressed, save for a pair of loose fitting black fatigues, the waistband of which sat low on his slim hips.

He was staring out the view port, not acknowledging the Vulcan's presence. Even in the low light, Tuvok could clearly see the gruesome scars that laced the sleekly muscled chest, mute evidence of the dreadful acts of cruelty that had been perpetrated upon him for most of his young life.

Even so... even with the scars, Tuvok had to admit that aesthetically, Bashir was most pleasing. His limbs were lean and attractive, the color of his skin a warm and enticing golden hue. He could see why his previous Masters had so coveted him.

"So you're staying, huh?" Bashir said suddenly, still not looking at him.

"Yes."

"So. What's it got to do with me?"

Tuvok thought carefully before he spoke. He knew how highly strung this man was. How easily he could interpret the simplest remark as an insult. Under normal circumstances, the cool, remote Vulcan would never choose such a volatile paramour. But these were not ordinary times, and the bond between them pulled at him.

"Captain," he began carefully, "two nights ago you came to me and I rejected your advances."

"Again. I DO remember, Tuvok. I was there." Bashir turned his face towards him. He was angry, Tuvok could see that. But he was hurt too... confused. The bond pulled at him as well.

"I said certain things to you. Things that I...regret."

"Sorrow, Tuvok? From you? I'm touched. I didn't think that Vulcans from your side had feelings." Bashir's tone was reproachful.

"On the contrary, we do. But it is considered appropriate to control them."

"Deny them, you mean."

Tuvok ignored that last remark and continued. "You know only that I rejected you, but you do not truly know why."

Bashir simply looked at him.

"I have... I HAD a mate in the other universe. We had been bonded for many years. Even two nights ago, I still held some hope that I would return to her. Believing that as I did, I simply could not accept your advances."

"OK, you've explained. I appreciate it. Now, get out."

Tuvok sighed. This was proving to be more stressful that he cared to admit. He would have to approach Bashir on a more emotional level. An uncomfortable idea, but one the human might understand.

"She must be considered dead to me now, Julian," he said softly. "I must accept the fact that I will never see her again."

Bashir looked startled. Whether at the words, or at the use of his first name, Tuvok could not tell.

"I did not push you away because I did not want you," he continued. "I pushed you away because I wanted you too much. I felt as though..."

"You were betraying her," Bashir finished softly for him. The human's expression was a strange mix of injury and compassion. He scooted forward off the bunk and approached Tuvok hesitantly.

"I guess we've both had to accept losing someone we love," Bashir said. "I DID have love once, you know. She was a good friend to me, but she was killed. There are nights that I still cry for her. I'd give anything to have her back." He shrugged. "So I can understand how you felt. You should have said something."

"Would you have ceased if I had?" Tuvok countered.

Bashir smiled slightly. "Probably not."

Tuvok noticed that the human's confidence seemed to be returning and with it, his brashness. Pressing up against him, Bashir slid his arms around the Vulcan's waist and angled his hips firmly against his groin, blatantly rubbing his hardening erection against him.

Swallowing, Tuvok forced himself not to follow his natural instinct to pull away. While his mind was having a difficult time adjusting to such overt physical contact, his body seemed to be enjoying the stimulation very much. At the feel of Bashir's slender body pressed against him, Tuvok felt the stirring of sexual desire. Certainly not as strong as those experienced during his Ponn Far, but powerful nevertheless. It had after all, been a very long time.

"Remember what I told you when you first came here?" the human asked him softly. He was moving his mouth close to Tuvok's face, not quite kissing him, but just grazing his jaw line with those soft lips.

"You said many things. To which are you referring?"

Bashir purred a little chuckle. "I told you I wanted you to fuck me, Tuvok. Do you remember?"

"I remember." Tuvok's breath came a little faster. His hands, almost of their own volition, gently took hold of Bashir's hips.

At the touch, the human sighed. "I still want it, Tuvok." His expression became self-mocking. "You hurt me... and I still want you. Isn't that crazy?"

Tuvok tightened his hold. "I will not hurt you so again."

Bashir rested his head against the Vulcan's shoulder, suddenly passive, suddenly vulnerable. Tuvok wondered at the change in him. Against his neck, he felt the human's breath as he spoke.

"Do you want me this time, Tuvok... really?"

The Vulcan drew in a deep breath. "Yes."

Bashir looked up at him, his eyes soft and dark with desire, his entire stance submissive. "Then call me Julian again, and come to bed," he whispered, pulling the Vulcan towards his bunk.

Sitting, then lying down, pulling Tuvok down with him, Bashir wriggled out of his heavy trousers. He was naked underneath and fully erect. Although Tuvok had never coupled with another male, he found the sight of him highly arousing.

Bashir's genitals were very like his own in shape and size, although the head of the human's shaft was less pointed than a Vulcan's. He felt a strong urge to touch him there, an urge he followed, reaching down between Bashir's legs with a dark, elegant hand.

He felt Bashir gasp and stiffen, and suddenly the human was sitting up, effectively denying the Vulcan's touch.

"Julian?" Tuvok's voice held the faintest touch of concern.

"No Tuvok... like this." Bashir was breathless, turning his attention to the fasteners of Tuvok's pants. He yanked them open and pushed the fabric down to reveal the hard length of Tuvok's erection, already fully exposed from its sheath within his body.

Briefly, Bashir leaned away from him to scrabble in his small bedside drawer, emerging with a simple lotion. Quickly he anointed Tuvok's member generously, drawing in his breath as he felt the heat of it between his hands.

Then, discarding the container, he lay back and pulled his knees up, exposing his body's opening.

"I've waited too long already, Tuvok," he told him, large eyes pleading. "Don't make me wait any longer." With persistent tugs of his hands on Tuvok's hips, he guided the Vulcan into his body.

As he slid into the human, Tuvok's breath hitched in. For a moment, he held completely still, fighting for some measure of control. He was not sure exactly what he had expected it to feel like, but it hadn't been this! Despite the coolness of his skin, the inside of Bashir's body was incredibly warm, and so tight around his engorged member, so snug and smooth!

Gulping in a deep breath, he began to move. Slowly at first, then with deepening thrusts, bracing himself over Bashir on outstretched arms.

Under him, Bashir began writhing and moaning. He clutched as Tuvok's hips, pulling him in deeper, using the leverage to rise up and meet him.

"Harder, Tuvok!" he grated.

Biting back a groan, Tuvok struggled to speak. "I will hurt you, Julian!"

"I don't care!" Bashir yelled, arching against him. "I need it! I want it! Do anything to me, it doesn't matter!"

//Do anything to me...// The words bulleted through the fire in Tuvok's brain. No... this was not right! He had not expected, nor did he want this level of submission. Grimacing, he slowed his movements and carefully withdrew.

"Nooo..." Bashir's whimper of negation was anguished. Tears welled in his eyes and flowed unchecked down his face. "Don't do this to me, Tuvok. Please... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... please don't pull away!"

Tuvok leaned down and lifted Bashir into his arms, propping him on his lap and cupping his chin, forcing him to look into his eyes. The wounded, haunted expression on the human's face touched him to the heart. He was angrier than he could ever remember being, but he clamped down hard on the feeling and spoke to Bashir in a soft, level tone.

"This is not acceptable, Julian," he said.

Bashir flinched, fresh tears spilling down.

"Is this what you expect of me?" Tuvok continued. "That I will just hold you down and take what I want from you? With no regard to your welfare... or your pleasure?"

Bashir hung his head. "My own pleasure isn't important, Tuvok. I can take care of that myself. I only need to please you."

"You cannot lie to me, Julian," Tuvok insisted. "I have seen your thoughts. Your own sensuality is still alive within you. You want such things but fear to ask. You fear retribution. You fear punishment."

Bashir's head snapped up. His eyes flashing with sudden betrayal. "That's not fair!" he hissed.

Tuvok arched an ironic brow. "And pursuing me against my wishes was?" he countered.

Pressing his lips together, Bashir looked away, sniffling slightly and hiccupping softy as he recovered from his bout of tears. To Tuvok, he looked very appealing, even with that sullen pout on his face.

Gently, he increased his hold. "That may have been the way your... Masters treated you," he said softly, "but it is not how you shall be treated by me."

Slowly, Bashir's eyes turned back to him, peering at him from under lowered lashes. For all his arrogance, his brashness, his hotheaded temper, this young human was so very vulnerable. Unbidden, a surge of protectiveness rose in the Vulcan.

"What do you want me to do?" Bashir's question was a barely audible breath of sound.

Slowly, Tuvok stood, pulling the young man up with him. He released his hands and removed the rest of his own clothing. Then, turning to face the human again, he said, "Come with me."

He led the young man into the small bathroom. Turing on the water shower, he adjusted the temperature somewhat lower than he himself preferred, in deference to the human's more sensitive skin. Then, stepping in, he turned and pulled Bashir in with him.

"Tuvok, what..?" Bashir looked perplexed.

"This will relax you," Tuvok told him, picking up the rough bar of soap. "Warm water is often used in stress therapy."

Bashir huffed a short laugh. "You sound like you're giving a lecture." He still looked very unsure.

"That was not my intention." Tuvok reached out and gently turned the young man to face away from him. Then, soaping up a lather in his hands, he began stroking him, massaging the tension out of the slim shoulders, running his hands down the long scarred back. He continued the soothing caresses until he felt Bashir relax and begin to move into his touches.

He slid one hand around his slender waist and, leaning back against the cubicle wall, pulled the human back against him.

He felt Bashir stiffen slightly, but he didn't release his hold. Instead, he ran his soapy hands over Bashir's chest and belly, keeping his touch gentle and his hold non-confining until he was satisfied that the skittish young man meant to stay.

"Julian," he murmured.

"Hmmm?" His voice sounded almost sleepy.

"Where would you have me touch you?"

Bashir's breath drew in sharply. "I don't know!" The words flew out in a breathless rush.

Tuvok moved his hands to Bashir's small nipples, skimming his fingertips over them repeatedly, occasionally tweaking the beaded nubs gently. He felt Bashir's chest heave as his breath came faster, felt the golden body under his hands begin to tremble.

"Does this please you?" Tuvok asked softly.

"Yesss." Bashir's head dropped back to rest on Tuvok's dark shoulder.

"Would you like me to touch your genitals, Julian?" Tuvok's hand was already sliding down Bashir's body.

"I...uh..." The full lower lip caught between his teeth, his head snapped up.

Tuvok's hand stilled.

Swallowing convulsively, Bashir nodded.

Gently, Tuvok wrapped his hand around Bashir's re-awakened erection, touching and teasing. He made repeated strokes along the shaft before smoothing his fingers under the rose-hued head in a circular motion. He assumed that the human would respond to similar touches that he himself enjoyed.

Judging from the heated moans that came from Bashir's throat, the way his head fell helplessly back onto his shoulder again, his assumption had been correct.

Increasing his grip slightly, Tuvok began slow, steady pumping motions up Bashir's member. The human's reactions deepened. His cries became more urgent and his hips began to rock in time with Tuvok's caresses.

"Oh God, Tuvok!" He gasped tightly.

"Does it please you?" Tuvok whispered into his ear.

"Yes!" Bashir shouted wildly, "Yes, it pleases me! Oh Tuvok... Oh God! Oh God, don't stop!"

Tuvok increased his speed slightly. "I will not stop, Julian. Please relax... allow it to happen."

The human's legs began to buckle as his orgasm grew imminent. Tuvok tightened his hold around the slender chest, keeping him on his feet, even as he continued to milk the quickening sex firmly.

He felt Bashir's member jerk and quiver suddenly as he arched backwards, hips bucking into the Vulcan's fist.

"Oh... Oh you're making me come! Oh God, Tuvok! I'm... I'm coming!" Finally driven to the peak, Bashir climaxed. A loud, raw wail burst from his throat as his hot seed spurted out of him in pulsing arcs.

As the shudders drained away, Bashir sighed deeply, now languidly resting against his Vulcan lover, allowing the stronger man to support him. Slowly, he came back to himself, straightened, and turned around in Tuvok's arms.

"Tuvok, do Vulcans in your universe really kiss? I mean, I know I forced it on you before, but do they like to?" he asked uncertainly, almost shyly meeting the Vulcan's dark gaze.

Tuvok nodded slowly. "Yes, they do."

"Would you kiss me?"

"Of course, Julian. If it is what you want." He slipped a hand around the back of the human's slender neck and pulled that soft mouth to his own.

This kiss was quite unlike that first explosive experience they had shared. This was a tender, sensual, almost lazy exploration of each other's tastes and textures. Tuvok realized just how sweet the human's mouth was as his tongue made repeated dips into the warm, wet depths.

The little moans of contentment Bashir made were incredibly arousing. His own unsatisfied member began sending him renewed signals, and he slipped his hands down to cup Bashir's smooth buttocks, pulling him against his groin.

The human gasped and smiled, breaking the kiss. Turing off the water, he took Tuvok's warm hand in his own and led him out of the bathroom.

Still dripping wet, they moved back to Bashir's bunk. The human reclined on the covers and held out his arms to Tuvok.

"Can we finish what we started here?" he asked softly. "I'd really like to."

Lowering himself fully onto the lean golden body, Tuvok kissed him again. "I would also like to continue, Julian. But please allow me to set the pace. I do not wish to harm you."

Smiling, Bashir nodded. "I understand."

This time, Tuvok prepared himself while the human waited, calmly watching him. The difference in the young man was profound and Tuvok found himself becoming more and more pleased with his choice. He looked forward to seeing how consistent care and nurturing would affect him in the future.

Gently, he parted Bashir's legs and lifted the slim hips slightly. Then slowly, he pressed himself into his body with a deep sigh. He began a slow, deep rocking movement, gripping the human's hips to keep him steady.

The feeling was exquisite. His lover's body was so tight, so warm. As he thrust in and out, Bashir picked up his rhythm and began to move sinuously against him, deep moans of pleasure coming from him.

"It's good Tuvok," he whispered delightedly. "It's so good!"

"Yes...yes it is." Tuvok's reply was breathless.

As the pleasure built inside his belly, Tuvok deepened his strokes. Bashir's cries were now welcome and exciting. He knew that his human lover truly was enjoying the penetration and that knowledge allowed him to relax, letting his own orgasm rise up inside him.

With a low, deep sigh, Tuvok closed his eyes and arched into Bashir one final time as his climax crested and flowed through him. He held the human's hips hard against himself as he came, reveling in the intensity of his peak, feeling his member pulsing and twitching, spilling his essence deep into the supple body under his hands.

As his own body calmed again, his eyes opened to find Bashir smiling tenderly at him. "You're beautiful when you come, Tuvok," the human told him gently.

Tuvok gently withdrew and lay down beside him, pulling the slender man into his arms. "So are you, Julian."

Bashir sighed softly. "Will you stay with me?"

Tuvok's arms tightened around him. "I will."

"Always?"

"Yes Julian, always."

//T'hy'la//
 

END

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