Series: VOY
Title:  It Won't Be The Last 1/1
Author:  Joanne Collins (library5@well-com.net.au)
Rating: [R]  
Romance Codes:  P/K, P/7
Warning: CE

Disclaimer:  Tom, Harry and Seven, as well as anything else mentioned 
that pertains to Star Trek or Voyager belong to Paramount.  But seeing 
that they seem to refuse to see what's in front of them, we have to fill 
in the blanks <g>.  The song, It Won't Be The Last, belongs to Billy Ray 
Cyrus.  The story is mine, copyright November 1997.

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SUMMARY:  An anniversary brings past memories to the surface for Tom.
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I've had this idea for a while, but I needed to find the right person 
for the m/f relationship.  For various reasons the pre-existing 
possibilities on Voyager didn't fit my vision of the story, but I 
decided that as she is such a new character (I haven't actually *seen* 
her yet), Seven would be the best fit for the scenario in this story.  

M/m, m/f, but nothing graphic, lots of snugglebunnies.  Still, due to 
sensitive subject matter, I'm rating the story R.

This story takes place about ten years from now in Voyager's timeline, 
and is an A/U of my American Pie series.

Archiving: ASC archive, R'Rain's slash archive.

Lists: BLTS, PKSP.

No other distribution without my express permission, but you may pass 
this story on to friends.

For everyone who's nagged me to write more P/K.  Be careful what you 
wish for....

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IT WON'T BE THE LAST (VOY, P/K, P/7, R, 1/1)
By Joanne Collins

It's the first time that you broke my heart,
It won't be the last.
Billy Ray Cyrus, 
It Won't Be The Last.

Strong, gentle hands, smooth warm lips, warm embrace, all combined to 
overwhelm Tom's senses.  He looked at his lover, and felt regret that he 
couldn't answer the real love shining in the eyes that looked at him.

"Shhh, it's okay," whispered Seven, "I know that today is difficult for 
you.  I loved him too, Tom."

Tom knew that Seven spoke the truth.  They had both loved Harry, even in 
the same ways, and felt similar pain at his loss.  But he knew that his 
pain was greater, and always would be, because he had been the one left 
behind, Seven's relationship with Harry had never been what Tom's 
relationship with him had been, and it was probably that fact that 
enabled Seven to be in this relationship with Tom now.  But Seven had, 
without intending to, fallen deeply in love with Tom, a man whose 
ability to love deeply had died with his first true love.  Tom did care 
for Seven, even loved her in a way, but it wasn't with the deep abiding 
passion he had felt for Harry, and he had tried to tell Seven to find 
someone who could love her like that, because he wanted her to have the 
chance to be loved in the way that he would only ever be able to love 
Harry.  But Seven insisted on staying in this relationship with him, 
because she could accept his feelings not being as deep as hers, and Tom 
wasn't strong enough to continue pushing her away when he needed her 
support and love, and he tried to give her back as much as he could.  
He'd married her, wanting her to have his name, even if he couldn't give 
her his heart, he wanted her to have everything he was capable of giving 
her.  So now she was known as Seven Paris, not having wanted to take her 
original name back, and Tom liked calling her Seven, it strangely suited 
her.  Tom began to respond to the kisses and caresses Seven was 
lavishing on him, pulling her tightly to him, and burying his face in 
the blonde hair she had let grow in recent years, moving in the 
familiar, yet still exciting patterns of lovemaking they had found in 
themselves over the years they had been married.  They kissed deeply, 
and Tom found himself growing harder.  He made slow, tender love to his 
wife, and held her gently after the ending.

"Tom?"

"Yes?"

"When are you going to the holodeck?"

"Soon."

"Please, if you need to go now, go.  I don't want to stop you from doing 
what you need to do."

Tom felt again that surge of feeling for Seven that he'd never been able 
to put a name to.  It wasn't what he'd felt for Harry, but it was 
something wonderful.  He didn't want to analyse it yet, he wasn't ready 
for that.

"After you go on duty.  I want to hold you for a while longer."

Seven smiled, and nestled closer into her husband's arms.

Tom kissed the top of her head, and remembered their first awkward 
encounters, back when he'd been too much in love with Harry to think of 
anyone, or, at times, anything else.  Those early days of his and 
Harry's relationship, after the ordeal they'd been through on Akritiria, 
the reactions of the crew to the relationship, the flashbacks he'd 
experienced about prison, that amazing, single kiss with Chakotay that 
he'd never forgotten and never would, there would always be a sense of 
regret there, that they had never had a chance to see what they could be 
to each other, although Tom knew that it could never have come close to 
what he had had with Harry, the proposal he'd made, fully expecting a 
marriage to take place, the endless, frustrating delays that had led to 
his and Harry's deciding that they didn't need a legal ceremony to be 
together forever, so they just moved in together.  They had been 
blissfully happy for months, and had finally started talking about 
marriage again, when Voyager had engaged the Borg seriously for the 
first time.   That was when Seven had come aboard, and Chakotay had 
assigned Harry to help her "adjust" to being human again, which had led 
to some awkward, embarrassing encounters that Tom still smiled to think 
of.  But, as every memory of Harry washed over him, he felt his heart 
breaking again, as it did every time he thought of Harry.  He tried not 
to think of it, but he couldn't help thinking of Harry's death.  It had 
been during the Year Of Hell, that year that had never happened in 
reality.  If only Harry's death had been one of the things that had only 
happened in the alternate timeline....like it had been once before.

Tom began trembling in Seven's embrace, and she tightened her arms 
around him, knowing what Tom was remembering.  She knew it would have 
come this day, and she was relieved that she was here for him, that it 
hadn't happened later, while she was on duty.  

Tom began crying, knowing that these tears would not be the last he shed 
today.  The anniversary of Harry's death was always the hardest day of 
the year for him to get through, and the passing of the years didn't 
seem to diminish the grief, although they didn't seem to increase it, 
either, which he supposed he should be grateful for.

Seven soothed Tom's tears, wanting to do more for her lover, but knowing 
that this was his cross to bear, and that nothing she could do or say 
could help him.  She wanted to tell him what she suspected, but knew she 
couldn't yet.  Maybe tonight....the chronometer beeped.

"The time is 0700 hours."

"I have to go, Tom.  Will you be all right?"

"You know I will, Seven.  Meet me at Sandrine's before dinner?"

"Yes, all right.  I'll be a little late, though, I have something to do 
after my shift."

"Sure," Tom said, wondering what it was, but presuming his wife would 
tell him later.

Seven slipped into her uniform, and Tom suddenly flashed back to the 
outfit she'd first worn when she'd come onto Voyager.  Unable to 
suppress it, he chuckled softly, remembering Harry's reaction as well as 
his own.

"What?"

"Just remembering that silver outfit you wore when you first came 
aboard.  How *did* you stand it?"

"It was...comfortable.  It was similar enough to my Borg self to be 
comfortable at first.  But later," she smiled, "It seemed to get more 
attention than I wanted, and I had to rethink it."

"Well, you know I think you're beautiful, whatever you wear, don't you?"

"Flattery will get you everywhere, but not till after my shift," she 
smiled.

"Sandrine's...ever done it on a pool table?"

"Not since the last time we were alone in Sandrine's," she replied, and 
the look of sadness crossed Tom's face again.

"What?" 

"I always intended to do that with....but we never got around to it.  
There always seemed to be a tomorrow, and there was, until tomorrow 
didn't come."

"Well, Tom, as one of your favourite movies says, every day we have is 
one more than we deserve."

"True.  See you tonight," Tom said, blowing her a kiss as she headed out 
the door.

Tom slowly got out of bed, slipping on his robe and heading for the 
shower.  The water was warm, and Tom soaped his body slowly, remembering 
the first time he and Harry had made love in the shower.  He hadn't let 
himself think of that since it had happened, wanting to save memories 
like this for the days like this, they helped him get through the worst 
of it.  Not this shower of course, the one in his old quarters which 
were now occupied by B'Elanna and Jerron, who had moved in there after 
he and Harry had decided to live in Harry's quarters.  He remembered 
stepping into the shower one morning, thinking Harry was still asleep, 
closing his eyes in the sensual pleasure of the water coursing over him, 
and the shock of coolness when the door of the shower opened, the 
feeling of Harry's hands on him, Harry's soft lips on the back of his 
neck, the hands moving down to stroke his rising erection, his hands 
moving to find his lover's hardness, then the climax, quick, but 
satisfying.

"Wow," Tom had said, adding a teasing remark about Harry getting more 
daring every day.

"You inspire me, love," had been Harry's reply, "It won't be the last," 
he added, as he had begun saying about so many things lately.

"I hope not," Tom had teased back, kissing Harry again before stepping 
away to remove the evidence of their recent activity with the still-warm 
water, Harry joining him and almost making him consider being late for 
duty, but Harry wouldn't let him.

Later that night, he and Harry were in bed, snuggling after making love.

"Tom," Harry said, "I want you to promise me something."

"What?"  Tom had asked, too satiated to think very clearly.

"If anything ever happens to me, which, let's face it, is a distinct 
possibility out here, I want you to go on.  Tom, I want you to find 
someone to love again.  You have so much love to give.  I don't want 
this to be the last for you."

"Harry, nothing's going to happen to you!"

"Not if I can help it, but you never know, Tom.  I mean, *you* could die 
too.  I would hope you would want the same for me."

"Of course I would.  But you wouldn't be alone for long.  Seven or 
Wildman would snap you up the minute you finished mourning me."

"Tom I would *always* mourn you.  Always.  But the feelings I would have 
for Seven or Wildman would be *different*.  I believe that it's possible 
to love people in different ways in your life.  You know that there will 
always be a part of me that loves Libby, just as there will always be a 
part of you that loves James.  But you were able to move on, and love 
me.  I just want you to be able to do the same if anything happens to 
me."

Tom realised suddenly that the water had become too cool to be 
comfortable, and he rinsed himself off quickly, shocked that he'd 
forgotten that conversation.  Now that he'd allowed himself to remember 
it, he recalled that whole night.  It was like Harry had had some kind 
of premonition, that he knew that Tom would have to face living without 
him, and had done his best to prepare him.  And he had done a good job 
of it too, not, Tom smiled, that Harry would or could do *any* job 
badly.

Tom dressed in casual clothes, ate a simple breakfast, and headed for 
the holodeck.   

After several hours of fine-tuning some of his favourite programs, then 
a punishing physical workout, Tom ordered a shower, not letting memories 
overwhelm him this time, then slipped back into his clothes, ordering 
the computer to run Sandrine's without patrons, noticing that it was 
only a few minutes until Seven was due to meet him.   He wondered again 
what the delay was, but knew that she would probably tell him when she 
arrived, his wife was incapable of keeping a secret from him for longer 
than ten minutes, as he often teased her.  He knew now what that feeling 
was that he had for her, knew he'd been denying it for too long to both 
of them.  Without intending to, he'd managed to fall in love with his 
wife.  It wasn't the blazing passion he'd felt for Harry, or even the 
intensity of first love that he'd felt for James, but it was more than 
he'd ever expected to feel again.

"Thank you, Harry," he whispered, "I know now that you weren't the last, 
just maybe the best," knowing that his love had prepared him for this, 
and he sat down at the piano, playing scales softly first, then starting 
a song:

First time I laid eyes on you,
I knew it must be love,
From the moment you first spoke to me,
You were all I could think of,
The first time we were together,
Oh, the time just went so fast,
I recall when you first kissed me,
And said it won't be the last.

(Now) it's the first time that I call our home,
To find out it's not mine,
It's the first time I reach out for you,
But you're not there to find,
It's the first time that I call your name,
To realise it was the past,
It's the first time that you broke my heart,
It won't be the last.

I think back on yesterday,
Being in your loving arms,
Not like the dreams that we let slip away,
The memories live on,
'Cause I pray to God for answers,
To all the questions that I asked,
Another night of missing you, 
It won't be the last.

('Cause) it's the first time that I call our home,
To find out it's not mine,
It's the first time I reach out for you,
But you're not there to find,
It's the first time that I call your name,
To realise it was the past,
It's the first time that you broke my heart,
It won't be the last.

It's the first time that you broke my heart,
But it won't be the last.

Tom heard the doors of the holodeck open just as he finished playing the 
song, and was oddly relieved that Seven hadn't heard him, it had been a 
goodbye of sorts to what he'd had with Harry, and he'd needed to do that 
alone, but he also wanted to see her now.  Now that he'd realised...

"Seven?" Tom asked, just in case it was someone else.

"Expecting someone else?" 

"No, not really, but I thought Chakotay might come and talk to 
me...guess he realised what I needed most was to be alone."

"Or maybe someone kept him so busy with administrivia that he didn't 
have time to wonder," his wife smiled evilly at him.

"Remind me to always stay on your good side," Tom mock-cringed.

"I only have a good side where you're concerned Tom."

Tom moved over to take his wife into his arms, liking the feel of her 
full breasts against him.

"Seven, there's something I need to tell you.  I realised it today...no, 
I realised it a long time ago, I just admitted it today.  I love you.  
It's not what I had with Harry, but it is love.  I don't know why I 
denied it for so long."

"Oh, Tom, then...that makes what I have to tell you even more 
wonderful."

"What is it?"

"Tom, the reason I was late is because I had to see The Doctor.  
Remember those new treatments we tried for fertility?"

"Of course, the treatment for the scarring the Borg implants 
caused...they didn't work either?  Never mind, The Doctor will think of 
some way for us to have a child.  Hell, if necessary, *I'll* carry it!"

Seven laughed, "I don't think that will be necessary Tom.  I'm pregnant.  
Three weeks."

"You're..." Tom looked stunned, then an expression of happiness so pure 
crossed his face that Seven almost had to look away, it was so beautiful 
to see.

"And it's a boy," she added quietly.

"A boy?"

"And I want to name him Harry.  If you want to, of course."

Tom's eyes filled with tears.  

"I can't think of anything I want more."

THE END
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The movie that the quote "Every day we have is one more than we 
deserve," comes from is Up Close And Personal.