Disclaimer: Children, what are you doing in here? Get out of here! It features angst, violence with toys, traumatic childhood recollections, two men in bed together without any platonic intent, and more angst. And, it’s science fiction. If you don’t like this sort of thing, what are you doing here? Oh, and I don’t own any of these characters. I’m just borrowing them for a little storytelling. They are all owned by Paramount, and they wouldn’t have anything to do with this sort of thing if I paid them. And I don’t have any money. I do, however, have an overactive sexual imagination and a good grasp of how to drive a plot home. Oh, dear, that didn’t come out quite right . . . oh, well.
I thrive on feedback, preferably sent to the address above, rather than you just sitting at your computer going, “Wow.” And the lyrics are from “Can’t Take Your Memory,” from the album “Heartbeat,” by Don Johnson.
It’s that annoying hour, just before the alarm goes off and you absolutely have to wake up, and yet you can’t sleep. Or, in this case, you just don’t want to. You want to lie awake, wrapped around a new lover, and tell yourself over and over again that you’re not dreaming.
I’m lying in bed with Chakotay, and I almost can’t believe it. But I know it’s real. He’s real, and he’s holding my hand in his sleep. He’s snoring lightly (something I did not expect), and I can feel every beat of his proud, strong heart. I can see the poetic contrast between my chalky pale skin and his dark, tawny skin.
I wish that the universe could just stop here, that everything would end right now, because this is the most perfect moment of my life. In the back of my head, there is a tiny voice crying out that it could get better, and it’s at war with the other one, warning me that it could get worse - much worse.
take the photos off the wall
leave empty echoes in the hall
but i still see your face
when i look around
i see your lips move
there’s no sound
you can throw away reminders of you and me
but you can’t take your memory
I grew up on a huge rambling estate, covered with trees that provided vital oxygen and removed harmful carbon dioxide from Terra’s atmosphere. We were wealthy, and my father was a powerful and respected Starfleet officer.
There was a greenhouse on our estate, and inside it, there was a huge playroom. When I was a little boy, I had more dolls in there than there are citizens of Terra, and a toy army that was larger than the standing army of the Klingon Empire. But my favorites were a pair of dolls, a prince and a princess, that any fool could see were meant to be my maman and my father.
From the time I learned to talk, those two dolls acted out every fairy tale my maman told me, with a generous helping of my father’s starship combats thrown in. And until I was about eight, every story ended with the beautiful princess and her handsome prince living happily ever after. By the time I was eight, the cracks in my parents’ marriage began to show, and so it happened that one day my maman walked into my playroom to overhear me preparing my army of toys to attack the evil prince.
I hadn’t heard her walk in, but I heard her gasp of horror, and I turned around to see a look of utter fury on her face. She grabbed me by the arm, and pulled me to my feet, and snatched away the prince doll. “Don’t you ever say that about your father! Ever!” She shook me fiercely, like a mother cat punishing a kitten, and yelled at me to go outside and play. I ran, out to the garden, and climbed an ancient maple tree, to hide in the thick leaves.
After a few minutes, she came outside, looking for me. There was a definite edge of panic in her voice, and when I didn’t respond, she started crying. I climbed back down, and let her find me. She pulled me close, and only then did I notice that my nose was bleeding. She dabbed at my nose with her dress, and picked me up, and held me close, crying that she loved me, that she was sorry for yelling at me. We went back to the house, and she patched me up, and made me take a short nap.
After lunch, we went back to the playroom. Both the prince and princess dolls were missing. I asked where they were, and my maman laughed her prettiest laugh, and told me I was too old to play with dolls. I didn’t want to upset her again, so I simply shrugged and skipped the story part of my game, and went straight to the battle scenes.
I was running at full speed around the room, holding some toy ships, when my father walked in. Naturally, I ran right into him. Just as I expected, he was annoyed, and demanded to know what I was doing.
“The Romulans are trying to catch the Esperanza before she reaches Federation space,” I pointed to a chair on the other side of the door that marked the boundary, “but they don’t know about the fortifications at Malonna IV.”
My father picked me up from the floor where I had fallen, and carried me over to look behind the chair. A large fleet was waiting there, neatly arranged, just like they had been in one of his most celebrated victories. He smiled, and hugged me. “Go get those Romulans,” he commanded, and put me down. Still smiling, he took my maman’s hand, and led her away, leaving me to annihilate the unprepared warbird.
it’s no good to dwell upon it they say
i’ve found a thousand ways to make it through each day
then the sun goes down and the shadows grow tall
and my mind goes to you like it’s nothing at all
cause you’re still in my heart
I didn’t find out what happened to my dolls until I was leaving for the Academy. My father had left his gloves in his bedroom closet, and sent me to go get them. I’d never been in his closet before; I hadn’t even been in his room since he remarried.
I walked into the closet, and found the gloves lying neatly on a shelf, right in front of a carefully kept display case, with the prince and princess of my childhood inside it. They were standing side by side, holding hands. She was wearing her golden ballgown; he was in his dress uniform. Like all dolls, they were smiling.
I heard my father call for me, and barely remembered to grab his gloves before running back downstairs as if I’d seen a ghost. He didn’t say a word, and I understood that he’d done it on purpose.
He couldn’t mention her, but I suppose that he wanted me to think about her today, that maybe she was proud of me for making it this far. I guess it thought it would help. He was right, damn him.
you can take my heart
tear it apart
but you’ll never never take your memory
cause you’re still in my heart
Chakotay growls in his sleep, and pulls me closer, so that he can use my arm as a pillow. “Go t’sleep,” he urges fuzzily, and reaches up to stroke my hair. “C’mon, Tom, sleep. How can you be so annoying even in bed? Sleep.”
I can’t help it; I smile and snuggle closer. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if he knew who he was with. “Sorry,” I whisper. “I was just enjoying the moment.”
He smiles, and turns to kiss me fiercely on the lips. “I promise, there will be more moments just like this one, and some even better. But first, you have to get some sleep.”
His kisses leave me breathless, and after I restore myself to what little equilibrium I possess, I lay down next to him, and close my eyes. “I’m keeping you to that promise, Commander.”
He kisses me again before he lies down too, holding me close but not too tightly. “I intend to keep it, Tom.”
Next Episode: Redeeming Paris