Author: Jeanette Kofoed
Codes: CP, ?, VOY.
Series: Part 10 of the Thoughts series: "The Seduction of Paris", "Harry", "A Gift for a Soul Mate", "My Beauty", "Tom's Gift", "Chakotay's Gift", "Pain", "Bruises" and "Harry, Chakotay and Dimples"
Rating: NC-17
Archive: Paris Nights, Cha_Club. Anywhere else: Okay with me as long as you say where.
Dedicated: To Robin, who I am for ever grateful too, and to Mel and Elli.
Disclaimer: Characters wihtin this stories belongs to Paramount Pictures and CO. But the story and the plot belongs to me.

Feedback is welcomed at succubus@get2net.dk

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Thoughts 10: "He is mine..."

He looked down at his hands, remembering the feeling of connecting with flesh. He remembered the blood that had trickled down his arm as he hit hard at the collarbone of the man lying helplessly beneath him. It had felt wonderful, arousing even, and it had made him happy. He was in total control of everything and everyone. The others had simply been his helpers in the act he had conducted.

He smiled to himself, recalling how easy it had been to manipulate the fools into helping him punish Tom Paris. The slut, the prison whore, and the man who had taken his beloved away from him. The man who had the indecency to take Chakotay away from him, seducing the only man he could ever love.

He stopped smiling, thinking back to the night in the Maquis when he had been so close to having the Commander, his former Captain, but then the traitorous pilot had come onboard. No one else saw the attraction, but he knew, he knew what those gazes meant. Lust, passion. Damn that stupid blond anyway.

Nothing went as he had planned it, not even the death of his enemy, Thomas Eugene Paris. He hadn't meant to leave him only battered and bruised. Tom should have died, but that he did not had been his fault--his own fault. He clearly remembered standing over the beaten man, watching the others stopping once they believed that Tom had been punished sufficiently. All he had needed to do was to go back and finish the job once the others had left, and he had gone back, he had. But standing there, the feeling of touching the man, connecting with the soft and smooth skin had made him aroused, excited, awakening a strange sense of possessiveness, and he hadn't done what he should have.

He shuddered, trying to forget the feelings. It didn't matter anyway.

He hadn't completed his task, and Tom had survived. The man was badly injured, though. He had heard chances were that the terrific pilot would never fly Voyager again. He had no idea why he was feeling sorry. He kept trying to convince himself that it was Chakotay he was feeling sorry for.

His beloved had to take care of the invalid man. Chakotay was hindered by his own love, caught in the need to care for the man he had chosen to share the rest of his life with. He tried to convince himself that this was why he had this strong feeling of guilt, but he knew, deep down he knew, that there was more to it. He just didn't want to admit it.

He came back to himself, suddenly remembering that he was in the mess hall. Glancing up, he realized that no one was around any more. Last time he had looked the room had been packed. He guessed he missed them leaving. He picked up his tray, threw it in the recycler, and walked toward the door.

He felt himself connect with a broad chest and focused his mind on the man he had bumped into. Chakotay. Damn. Not now, not here, he thought, while giving a formal hello, "Good day, Commander."

Chakotay only nodded in response, picking up a tray and collecting the food he wanted. He stood quietly looking at the man. Chakotay looked beat, exhausted--angry. Yes he looked very angry, and it scared him. He hadn't wanted Chakotay to become angry with him; he had wanted him to love him. Maybe, just maybe he could show him what true love meant.

He left the mess hall, stepping out into the empty corridor. He had heard rumors of Tom's recent behavior. Some said that it was as if he was no longer Tom, the flippancy was gone. No one knew what had happened. Something had though. It was like the man had totally forgotten a part of himself.

He slapped himself mentally, he shouldn't be wondering about what was wrong; he shouldn't even care. The man was his enemy. He suppressed the new emotions that had arisen, and started making a new plan. After all, he couldn't let the slut hex him as he had Chakotay.

Yeah that was it, Tom had put as spell on him, just as he had Chakotay. He smiled a bright, menacing smile. He hadn't started having feelings toward the pilot at all. It was a hex, an art of seduction. This would make it all so much easier. Yes indeed it would.

Go on to the next part