Title: Many Marys

Author: Britta

Series: VOY

Codes: C/P

Rating: R

Archive: Fine with me, just tell me where.

Disclaimer: Someone else owns these folks. I just let them do whatever they want. Money being made? You have got to be kidding. It's a labor of love--theirs. May contain m/m sex, if you don't
like, take a hike.

Many Marys
by Britta
~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tom Paris stepped out of the shower and dried himself. Donning his robe, he entered the bedroom where his lover lay quietly, thoroughly absorbed in whatever it was he was reading. Tom frowned and wondered if flashing Chakotay could break his concentration.

Tom slid the robe seductively from his shoulders as he moved toward the viewport. He waited there impatiently for almost sixty seconds before he realized that Chakotay wasn't paying attention to him at all. Damn. Stifling a huge sigh of exasperation, he wondered sadly if he'd lost his touch. Was the older man bored with him now that he'd sworn to give up sex in public? But that was what Chakotay wanted, wasn't it?

Confused, horny, and beginning to get depressed, Tom didn't notice the dark gaze that followed him as he moved to put on a pair of shorts. He felt he had to wear something to bed, even if only to hide his erection. Chakotay was being far too quiet for his liking.

Tom wondered what had Chakotay so enthralled that he didn't merit even a glance as he settled under the covers. He waited a few moments hoping a hand would reach out to touch him, but nothing happened. The frown threatened to reappear as he thought of various modes of attack. He decided he would not be ignored, no matter what, and sidled closer to his target.

He slid a foot up Chakotay's leg and grinned when that got a shiver in reaction. Letting out an audible breath on Chakotay's shoulder while he tried to read what was on the padd in his lover's hand got even more of a reaction, but it wasn't one he was expecting.

Abruptly, Chakotay sat up straight, looked once more at the padd, then at Tom, and stated, "I think perhaps we should go back to celebrating your religious holidays. I've found some interesting statistics for this time of year."

"What sort of statistics?" Tom asked warily.

"Half of the male saints your religion recognizes with the name of Mary, have their days in this month," his pagan lover explained patiently.

"Give me that!" Tom snatched the padd from Chakotay and read quickly hoping that Chakotay wouldn't think about it too much and start prying into things best left buried in the Church's records. He saw:

5 July--St. Anthony Mary Zaccaria
4 August--St. John Mary Vianny
14 August--St. Maximillian Mary Kolbe
24 October--St. Anthony Mary Claret

Red-faced but relieved, and knowing that his lover didn't have an encyclopedic knowledge of fermented beverages, Tom figured he could bluff. "Ha! Chakotay, this data has been corrupted. What you've got here is a bunch of wines mixed up with a few old Roman Catholic saints."

"Is that so?" Chakotay asked in a seemingly clueless fashion.

"Yeah. There's probably a few other corruptions of the data as well," Tom replied with confidence.

"Like what?" Chakotay stared at Tom, as if mentally daring him to find a way out of explaining his earlier blush. "Tell me why this bothers you so much."

"It doesn't bother me." Tom tried to resume his mantle of calm, but failed, and instead went on the offensive. "Why are you so interested anyway?"

Chakotay leaned over for a kiss, and said, "I like to know things. I enjoy learning about new and old customs. I just hoped you'd share your personal knowledge with me."

Tom wondered why he had the feeling he was being set up. Chakotay seemed sincere, but then he always did. Should he give in and risk being laughed at or not? He set aside the padd, and called the lights down to half. "What do you want to know?"

Warm hands finally touched him and a low voice inquired, "What's with the fixation on the name of Mary?"

"It's kind of a hard-core Catholic thing. It has to do with the name of the mother of god. I'm pretty sure it gives you protection for eternity." Tom snuggled into Chakotay's arms and got comfortable.

As he closed his eyes, Tom heard a mumbled, "It's certainly worked for you, hasn't it?"

Tom's eyes flew open and he sat up. "Huh?"

Chakotay answered, "Don't you know I had you checked out down to your toenails when you joined the Maquis?"

Tom swallowed hard. "What do you mean, exactly?"

Chakotay smiled at his tremulous voice and answered calmly. "Nothing bad. It's just that we had a lot of clerics on our side, Thomas Eugene Mary Paris."

Shocked blue eyes glared as Tom demanded, "You knew all along?"

Chuckling, Chakotay replied, "Of course. But, I didn't understand what it meant until now. So come here, my saint, and let's celebrate your namesakes' days properly."

Tom slid back into Chakotay's embrace, turned to kiss his lover's ear, and whispered, "Be grateful I never chose to emulate the saints who gave up the appetites of the flesh," then he reached down to fondle that part of his lover which grew in pleasure at his touch.

Chakotay gasped, "I am! Oh gods, Tom, I am."

Smiling with satisfaction, Tom decided to find out just how grateful Chakotay could be.

THE END