"Stop it, he's watching us again," Tom hissed under his breath, trying to wriggle away from Greg's wandering hands. It was an impossible task, though, since he was half-way up a tree and only Greg's hands on his butt were keeping him from tumbling back to the ground. 

"So?" Greg purred as his fingers kneaded the firm buttocks again, making Tom squirm so much that he had to abandon his efforts to reach the fruit he was trying to gather and instead cling desperately to the tree's lower branches.

"So, he *hates* me, Greg."

"No he doesn't," Greg replied, giving Tom's ass a helpful shove upwards so that Tom could reach the fruit again. "He hasn't hated you for years and now *we're* back together he doesn't even have to pretend any more."

Tom froze and twisted his head so he could look down into Greg's laughing eyes.

"Pretend?"

"Oh shit, Tom. You know how he is. He thinks of me like I'm his little brother or something. When you and I broke up, he *knew* it was my fault but he blamed *you* anyway, because as far as he's concerned I can't do any wrong."

Tom twisted his body around and slid down the tree until he was standing in Greg's arms, their groins pressed tightly against each other.

"He was right," he whispered. "It was *my* fault. I over-reacted and by the time I realized what a fool I'd been to leave you, I was caught and imprisoned. I never got the chance to apologize."

"I should have told you myself. It's no wonder you took off like a scalded cat."

"I should have *listened* to you, instead of flying away in a temper."

"And if you hadn't been so upset, that patrol wouldn't have caught you," Greg replied. "You ended up in prison because I didn't have the courage to tell you straight off that I was married. I don't even know why I didn't. Celina and I had been separated for years. The only reason we never got around to getting divorced was because of the boys."

"I know," Tom whispered, kissing Greg's forehead softly.

"And I'll never forgive myself for thinking the worst of you, Tom. When Seska said you'd been a plant all along and that you'd deliberately flown into that patrol, I believed her. I should have listened to my heart. I should have come after you. Instead, I listened to that Bitch and by the time we heard you'd been put in Auckland it was too late."

"It's old history, Greg. Raking over it won't change what happened," Tom replied. "Besides, you couldn't have rescued me even if you'd wanted to. Chakotay would hardly have risked the ship to come after me."

"That's where you're wrong, Tom," Greg admitted. "He *did* want to come charging after you like some white-knight. Not that we would have stood a chance against a Sovereign Class cruiser. We'd have *all* ended up in Auckland."

"So why didn't he?" Tom asked suspiciously.

"Because although he wouldn't believe Seska's claims that you were a spy, he *did* believe me when I told him you'd threatened to "make me pay" for 'using' you."

"I never meant that, Greg. I was just spouting off," Tom replied. "I never would have hurt you."

"Oh God, Tom. I know that now. I knew that when you got sentenced and I realized you'd never been a spy after all. Only...well, when I saw you on Voyager's bridge I thought...."

"You thought I'd finally decided to make you pay after all," Tom said sadly.

"I didn't even blame you," Greg confessed. "I'd lied to you about my wife, I'd let you be captured and jailed without even trying to save you. I figured I deserved your hate. I couldn't face you. I was too damned ashamed of myself to even try and win your love back."

"And I thought you were avoiding me because you hated me," Tom replied, with a sad laugh. "How many years did we waste, huh?"

"Too many years," Greg agreed, squeezing Tom tightly in his arms.

"I love you," Tom whispered, sagging into the protective embrace with a deep sigh of contentment. "I always have. Even when I hated you."

"I know," Greg whispered back, then dropped his face to nuzzle against the still-vivid bruise on Tom's neck, "and I swear I'll never let that love cause you any more pain, Tom."

A loud clearing of someone's throat suddenly jerked them out of each other's arms to guiltily stand at attention in front of a glowering Chakotay.

"Unless you two 'gentlemen' want to spend the next two weeks scrubbing Jeffries Tubes with your toothbrushes, I suggest you stop acting like a pair of love-sick teenagers and get on with gathering fruit."

"Yes, Sir," Tom gulped.

"Sorry, Sir," Greg croaked, his face flaming.

They watched Chakotay storm away, his back stiff, and then Tom turned a furious face towards his lover.

"I *told* you he hated me," he hissed.

"Nah," Greg laughed, hooking Tom by the hips and boosting him back into the tree. "He's just jealous."

"Jealous?" Tom squeaked.

"Yeah, but it's too bad 'cos *this*," and he slapped Tom's ass pointedly, "is *mine* and I'm never going to be stupid enough to let it go again."

~#~#~#~

"Sheesh, Tom, I'm so stiff I don't think I'm ever going to walk properly again. I'm going to spend the rest of my life hobbling with my spine folded in two," Harry groaned.

"If you're looking for sympathy, you're wasting your time," Tom laughed. "At least you don't have to go down again."

"Yeah, that sucks," Harry agreed. The rotation of away teams had fallen in such a way that there was still time for one last gathering session before the cattle reached the end of their migratory path and so Tom, and the other members of the first away team, were all scheduled to go down for a second time. "Still, at least you were gathering fruit last time. I spent today crawling on the floor, digging roots out of the ground. My back is *killing* me."

"Well, I'm sure that eight hours from now I'm going to know *exactly* how you feel," Tom pointed out.

"Yeah," Harry grinned, "but at least you'll have someone to give you a back-rub."

"I...um...meant to talk to you about that," Tom mumbled.

"What? You and Greg?" Harry enquired, his ears perking up as he wondered whether Tom was 'back on the market', thus ensuring his own return to fun.

"Yeah, we're...well, we've decided to go public. So you don't have to cover for me any more."

"Public? As in steady? As in a 'couple'?" Harry demanded.

"Yeah," Tom replied quietly, flushing slightly.

Harry gave a whoop of joy, attempted to jump up to hug his friend, then groaned and collapsed back on his bed deciding that moving was a seriously bad idea. 

"I'm really happy for you, Tom," he said sincerely. Sure he'd have been selfishly pleased if Tom and Greg had split up, but this gave Harry the same personal result and, less selfishly, was seriously good news for the pilot.  Although Tom had never said much about it, Harry had always known that a large proportion of Tom's 'flyboy' persona had been hiding a world of hurt over his abortive relationship with Ayala when they'd both been in the Maquis.  

"Yeah," Tom murmured. "He's even said that in view of how long we've been missing, he's going to ask the Captain to register his legal divorce from Celina."

"But what about his kids?"

"Well, even if we get home, the chances are that she's moved on with her life too. Besides, he says their split was amicable so he can't see her refusing visitation rights," Tom explained.

Harry took a deep breath.

"Are you saying?"

"Yeah," Tom admitted, no longer able to conceal his ecstatic grin. "He wants to marry me."

~#~#~#~

For a long moment, Katherine sat in stunned silence. Not even her years of training and experience as a Starfleet Captain could overcome the sick sense of hopeless dread that swamped her with Tuvok's announcement. She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her strength, forcing her brain to re-engage, and then her voice emerged in a furious bark.

"Check your readings again. I want a full scans of the planet. FIND THEM."  She turned to Harry, forcing herself to ignore his white-faced misery, "Mr. Kim, initiate a full spectral analysis of all space in a 200,000km radius of the planet." She slapped her communicator, "Seven, I want a report on all L or M-class planets in this region of space. Send probes to any that are capable of supporting life." Then she turned to her second-officer, "Tuvok, my ready room, now."

The door had barely closed behind him before she turned on him in a fury.

"Talk to me, Tuvok. Give me a theory," she demanded.

"Clearly the indigenous life on the planet has not truly 'vanished'. They have been moved 'elsewhere'. Our away team has presumably been inadvertently taken with them."

"What manner of transporter device could possibly remove tens of thousands of cattle off the planet simultaneously, and why?"

"It was clear to us that there was a seeming anomaly about the migration pattern of the animals. We assumed that they were possibly amphibious in nature since it made no sense that they could have evolved to behave in an ultimately self-destroying manner. By grazing so thoroughly to the edge of the continent, they were inevitably going to starve if they turned around. However, the most likely explanation is that the cattle are not native to this planet at all."

"You're suggesting that they were placed here? By whom?"

"If we assume that they are indeed the 'cattle' of an alien race, then this world may simply be one 'pasture' that the aliens place them on to graze. They have been moved to a new grazing site and will be returned here when the vegetation has recovered."

"You're suggesting 'strip-farming' at a planetary level?"

"It's the most logical conclusion," Tuvok confirmed. 

"What form of technology are we talking about though? It must have taken a vast amount of energy, but our sensors picked up nothing unusual from the planet surface. They just 'vanished'."

"I could only speculate at this stage," Tuvok replied. "I believe, however, that our away team was not deliberately included in the transportation. The process is possibly even completely automated."

"So, if we find the next 'pasture', we'll find our crew?"

"It seems the most logical explanation," Tuvok agreed.

~#~#~#~

"There's no response," Chakotay said calmly. "We're presumably out of Voyager's range here."

"But where exactly is *here*?" Marla Gilmore asked, her own voice wavering, "and how are they going to find us?"

"The same way they *always* find us," Chakotay replied. "I suggest, in the meantime, we get off this plateau and find some shelter before that herd decides to graze in this direction. I want everyone to move in a slow, steady pace towards those rocks to the east. Make no sudden movements and keep your voices down, because we don't to risk spooking the animals into a stampede.  Collect any edible foodstuff you can find as you walk, any fallen or low hanging fruit, any plants or roots you can pull without stopping. Whatever food you *do* collect, get it into your packs immediately. Don't visibly carry anything that might attract the animals' attention."

He waited until he was sure everyone was safely walking in the direction of the distant outcrop of rocks that seemed the safest place to avoid the large herd-beasts, then he called Greg and Tom to walk next to him.

Speaking in a low voice, he addressed Greg first.

"What are you reading on your tricorder?"

"Same as you, Cap'n. We haven't been moved back to the other side of the continent as we first hoped. We're definitely on a different planet. The question is, like Gilmore said, where the hell this planet is."

"Any ideas, Tom?" Chakotay asked.

"We're definitely in the same solar system," Tom replied with confidence.

"Why do you say that?" 

"Because although their relative positions to us have reversed, making them *seem* different, those are still the same twin suns," Tom stated, pointing up to the two red-hued suns overhead.

"I agree," Chakotay said, so easily that Tom was sure he'd already reached the same conclusion. "And from their reversed positions, I'd say it'll take Voyager at least two days to reach us, even if they know where we are."

"Chances are they'll start investigating the planets nearest to where we were transported from though," Greg pointed out. "It could take them days before they even start looking on *this* side of the suns."

"Again I agree," Chakotay replied. "So our priority at the moment is keeping the away team safe. We have no supplies except those we were carrying at the time the transporter-wave caught us and anything we can collect on the way. Looking at the way those creatures are moving, they'll strip all the vegetation for miles within a day."

"We should be safe when we reach those rocks," Tom replied. "There's nothing to graze on them and the creatures don't look capable of climbing."

"There must be a good level of precipitation here for the vegetation to be so lush, so we shouldn't have a problem with water," Chakotay pointed out. "We're going to be in real trouble if those rocks don't have any natural shelter though."

Greg looked at Chakotay in surprise.

"It's really hot, Sir. Almost uncomfortably so. Even if we get wet we'll be okay as long as it stays warm."

"It won't," Tom answered miserably. "Since the vegetation here is almost identical to that on the planet we were on previously, it's going to have a similar climate."

"Well, I know it got cold there at night," Greg agreed, "but not *that* cold."

"Tom's right," Chakotay interrupted. "This kind of climate has a pendulum effect. As much hotter as it is here during the day, it will be equally colder at night. Maybe not *that* cold, but throw in wet clothes and wind factor and there's a real danger of exposure."

"Looks like we're going to have to share body heat, big guy," Tom muttered in Greg's ear.

"I heard that," Chakotay snapped. "It might come to *all* of us sharing body heat, Mr. Paris."

Seeing Tom's horrified expression, he grinned.

"Look, I haven't had the chance to mention it before but I heard the good news about you two and I want to offer my congratulations."

"You do?" Tom yelped in disbelief.

Greg snorted and threw his arm around Tom's waist to give him a half-hug.

"I do," Chakotay agreed, although his smile was a little rueful as he witnessed the easy affection between the two men. "And I fully intend to make sure you both live long enough to make honest men of each other."

"Got a spare millennium or two?" Tom quipped.

Chakotay acknowledged his joke with a small smile, but then his expression became more formal.

"That having been said, we three are the only officers on this away team. It's up to us to look after the others and to lead by example. So I don't want to witness any gratuitous pda's until Voyager has rescued us."

"Yes, Sir," Greg agreed.

"Tom?" Chakotay queried, when the pilot didn't acknowledge his order.

"Just need you to clarify a point, Sir."

"What point?"

"Are you saying gratuitous pda's are okay *after* Voyager rescues us?" Tom asked, with an innocent smile.

Greg snorted and choked then, seeing the thunderous expression on Chakotay's face, he quickly stepped between the two men.

"Sorry, Cap'n," he said. "I know he's a brat but rest assured I'll severely spank his ass for saying that to you," and he gave Chakotay a lewd wink, totally ignoring the pain of Tom angrily smacking him in the middle of his back.

Chakotay's face split into an evil smile.

"I *knew* you were the right man to keep Tom in line, Greg," he purred.

They both watched in amusement as Tom stalked off in a temper.

"Are you *really* happy, Greg?" Chakotay asked quietly.

"I love him, Chak," Greg replied, equally quietly.

"You're going to have your work cut out, you know?" Chakotay asked, as Tom made a deliberate point of wiggling his ass in Greg's direction as he bent over to help Crewman Dell collect berries off a low bush.

"He's worth it," Greg grinned.

Chakotay nodded, slapped Greg on the shoulder affectionately, and forced himself to swallow his own feelings of regret.

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