by Merri Todd Webster

THE OVERTURE: We yield to Paramount hearty thanks for overlooking our little venial sins, such as writing smutty fiction about their characters. We also thank GW and RDMcN for being generally cute and inspiring.

This one is Anne the Hostess's fault. (Huh? says Anne.) On Saturday I re-read "With This Ring" and a little bell went off in my head. I thought, "One day I'll probably take a shot at a wedding story, but right now, I want to do a married story." Why? Because I like being married. So I have to thank not only Anne, Robbie, and Garrett, but my beloved spouse, John (who is a great cook, among other things), for inspiration.

This takes place quite a few years down the road from any episodes we've seen. It assumes the road home is long and the ship is getting tired, but Tom and Harry are happy together and they're not the only ones. It also is my first try at the dialogue form which Amirin, torch, and others have exploited so well in stories like "Screwed and Perfect" and "Fairness." The "R" rating is for implied but not explicit sex.

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"Whose turn is it to cook?"

"Mine. What do you want for dinner?"

"I don't know. What do you want to make?"

"I don't know. Let me check our supply vouchers." <pause> "Hmm. Well, I could make some Oriental-style chicken soup real quick."

"You know, Harry, you could have just lied and said it was my turn, and we could have used our replicator rations for dinner."

"I don't mind cooking. Don't you like my chicken soup any more?"

"I love your chicken soup."

"Besides, I'd rather save rep rations for more important things. Like sex toys." <grin>

"Hmph. That's true." <yawn> "Sorry, sweetheart. So how long is it till dinner?"

"I can get started now, if you want."

"Please--I'm starving."

<whoosh of door> <short interval> <whoosh> <faint snore>

"Tom--you fell asleep on the couch. Again."

"Sorry." <stretches>

"Keep me company while I cook?"

"Sure, sweetie. Did you get everything?"

"Yeah--here, could you take this?"

"Got it."

"Thanks."

<sounds of sizzling>

"Smells good. So have you talked to Tuvok about the naming ceremony, Har?"

"Yeah, over lunch today. He said he'd send me a file of the Vulcan text we have to memorize. He assured me it would be 'quite within your and your mate's memory capacities, which are above the human average'."

<groan> "Great, it's probably the length of 'The Highwayman'."

<brisk stirring> "The what?"

"Old poem. Made into a song in the late 20th century. Anyway, I visited B'Elanna and the baby at lunchtime. Gods, she is cute. The baby, I mean, of course B'Elanna's cute. Actually she's radiant. But I just can't pronounce the name B'Elanna gave her. And the Vulcan name Tuvok gives her will probably be worse."

"Funny how both cultures have a custom that the mother and the father each give the baby a name. The Klingon name isn't so bad, though. Just think cute thoughts and then pretend you're coughing up a rock. Works for me."

"You're pretty cute, too, you know."

"Hey, no fondling the cook unless you want to get burnt!"

"How about a kiss?"

"That I can spare." <quick kiss> <nibble> <smolder> <tongues> "Mmf--honey, I've got to add the stock now!"

"Spoilsport." <mock frown>

<grin> "You are so cute when you pout."

"You haven't gotten tired of me, Har?"

"Never, Tom." <safe kiss on cheek> "Feel like chopping vegetables?"

"Sure, why not. That's why you married me, right? It's not like I'm tired or anything."

"Oh, like I'm not? Just because I'm not the hotshot pilot--"

<firm kiss>

"I'm chopping, okay? Though I could think of better things to do with this-- whatever it is." <sounds of chopping>

"Rivolian carrot, and don't leer at it, just chop it--it tastes just like Earth carrot, only richer. You want a quickie while I'm busy, use the leola root instead."

<shudder> "That's about all it's good for. When I think we got that stuff, what, in our first or second year out here, and ten years later we still haven't run out?"

"Convincing Neelix not to make everything hot enough for a Thai prince only helped conserve it, you know."

"Yeah, well, I guess we have to take the sweet with the bitter." <pause> "You really want all these onions in this soup?"

"You liked it that way before, didn't you? Keep complaining and I'll feed it to Chakotay instead." <teasing grin>

"Yeah, right, like Kathryn will let you near him. He keeps complaining he's putting on weight from her cooking."

<renewed sizzling sounds> "Want something to drink? I'm buying."

"Just water, nice and cold."

<brief interval>

"Thanks." <thirsty slurping>

"Harry, do you still miss home?"

<slow exhale> "Yes and no. Yes, I still miss my family, my childhood friends, my old hangouts. And Libby. No, because home is here, on Voyager. With you."

"Voyager's a rusty old tub that might not go much further, and I'm a skinny guy with a receding hairline and too many memories."

<kiss> "You're my husband. My spouse. My mate. And I love you, so shut up." <brisk stirring> "Just a little while to simmer, now."

"I love you, too, Har. How long till the soup?"

"Oh, at least fifteen minutes."

"Would it taste better if it took longer?" <suggestive caress>

<pleased smile> "I thought you were starving?"

<leer> "I am, but not just for your chicken soup."

<sigh> "You always get horny when I cook."

"Call it a fetish, but--" <hug> <kiss> <soft moan>

"Believe me, I'm not complaining. Why do you-- oh, yeah--think I keep the-- um, the lube right here?"

"Here, lemme turn down the heat--"

"No, you're turning up the heat, beautiful-- oh my--" <groan>

"You're so bitable, Har."

"Thanks." <hiss of sharp inhalation> "Ooo. . ."

"And delicious, too. Ah--"

"You're not so bad yourself. No, here, let's get on the-- couch--"

"Who goes first?"

"Kiss the cook--hey, I didn't say--" <kiss> <slurp> <gasp> <panting> <strangled scream> <ragged breathing> Gods. Cheater."

<licks lips> "I thought I was the horny one. You probably just set a record for speed, lover."

<sigh> "I think your tongue set the record. Now what?"

"Turn over."

"Oh, good."

"Lube?"

"Here. Ah, yes..."

"You have the most gorgeous ass in the entire galaxy."

"You just say that because I let you--oh, more. Yes, like that."

<throaty moans>

<soft groan> "Gods, I love those noises you make. I'll never get tired of them. Ready?"

"Oh yeah." <inviting wiggle>

"Okay, love." <pause> <groan> "Holy gods-- oh, it feels so good."

<panting>

"Deeper--"

"There, like that?"

"Yes, please." <writhing> <panting> "Oh, yes, that's good. Now. Before the soup burns." <grunting> "Tom!"

"I've got you, Harry. Oh, yes--move like that--yeah--love it--"

<panting>

"Need you to--"

"Here?"

"Harder!"

"I've got you, I've got you--gods--" <gasp> <grunt> <indescribable noise>

"Yes, lover, yes, love, come, come--oh, I'm--" <writhing> <harsh scream>

<rapid heavy breathing> <kiss> <shift> "Whew."

"Yeah." <long pause> "I gotta check on the soup."

"Okay." <grunts> <groan> "Bring me a towel?"

"Sure." <stagger> <sniff> <stir> "Soup any time. Here's the towel."

"Thanks." <deep sigh> "Love you."

<smile> <sigh> "Love you, too. Would you set the table?"

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End