LEGACY

Title: Legacy, 4/4
Author: Jaye (Copyright April 2002)
Codes: VOY C/Weyoun NC-17

Note: Written for ChakotayFest

Disclaimer: Star Trek, Voyager, Deep Space Nine and all
related characters and concepts are the property of
Paramount. No infringement is intended or profit made. This
is NC-17 for m/m sex. If you aren't interested (or aren't
old enough), don't read it.

Archive: Drop me a line first so I know where it's going.
Please keep the text (especially the disclaimer) intact.

Feedback: Sure, but this is only my second attempt at fanfic
so be kind, or at least constructive. If I've mangled DS9
canon, my apologies. I'm using episode guides for my info.

***************

PART FOUR (CONCLUSION)

Caring. Tenderness. Love. Weyoun's nostrils filled with the
sweet-spice scent of his bedmate as his eyes opened to the
dimly lit room. He felt the arm snug around his torso, and
Chakotay's soft breaths against the back of his neck.

He smiled as he thought of yesterday. The men had awakened
barely in time for quick sonic showers and a hasty meal
before relieving Ayala and Geron. Weyoun blushed at the
memory of the speculative expressions in both sets of dark
eyes. The quartet had spent a pleasant hour on the bridge
together before Chakotay and he were left alone to monitor
the DreamCatcher's systems.

They'd taken advantage of the blanket and Geron's ingenuity
to spend their time sitting together, sharing stories of the
past. Weyoun had been hesitant to talk about his work for
the Dominion, but Chakotay's understanding expression had
given him the courage to be honest about what he---or, as
the older man insisted---what his other clones had done. In
truth, he had come to accept that distinction in his own
mind, since he felt no real ambitions for power or conquest.
He also never thought of the Ever-Changing---his gods, the
Founders---anymore. Now, the only image he got when he
thought of "serving" or "worshipping" was that of Chakotay
spread out like a banquet, garnished with chocolate and a
bit of whipped cream.

He felt his cock stir slightly at the image, and decided to
help it along by remembering their encounter in the bathroom
before bed. Though they'd been warned by their friends, both
Chakotay and Weyoun were surprised at how tired they were
after the quiet shift on the bridge. The tension and
constant checks for more unseen enemies had been draining.

When Geron and Ayala relieved them (sporting matching
secretive, yet satisfied smiles), Weyoun and Chakotay had
quickly devoured bowls of soup and stumbled off to bed.
They'd just finished brushing their teeth side by side at
the double sink when Chakotay pulled Weyoun into a deep, hot
kiss. It had awakened both their libidos as erections ground
against each other through layers of cloth. Without breaking
the kiss, the two men had quickly undressed each other. When
the final garments dropped free, Chakotay dragged them both
into the shower stall. They were soon surrounded by a rush
of warm water.

When Weyoun opened his mouth to ask what they were doing
Chakotay silenced him with another soul-searing kiss. He
thrust against his slender lover, who gasped at the slick
friction as their cocks finally met. Weyoun soon caught
Chakotay's rhythm and the two men moved together, mouths
still locked and hands roaming over wet skin. They climaxed
as one and let the water wash away the evidence.

Weyoun's eyes grew dreamy as he remembered a gentle rubdown
at Chakotay's hands before they settled into bed in their
usual position: Weyoun on his side and Chakotay spooned
behind him, a protective arm about his middle.

The position they were in now, in fact. Weyoun slowly turned
to face his companion, trying not to jar the other man from
his sleep. The Vorta looked at the strong face, then ever so
lightly ran a finger down the aquiline nose, grazing the
lips on its way to the slight cleft in the chin. The same
gentle brush brought him up over a cheekbone to that
fascinating tattoo. Weyoun couldn't resist; he began tracing
the blue lines, occasionally brushing aside strands of
mussed raven hair.

Chakotay woke halfway through the pattern but lay quiet,
staring at the beloved face shining moon-white in the
dimness. In a few hours they would be on Bajor. If Ro Laren
could clear up the mystery of Weyoun's existence, there
would be nothing left to hold the Vorta at Chakotay's side.
The older man knew that Weyoun needed to establish his own
life, become aware of all his potential, all of his options.
Even for love. A stab of grief shot through Chakotay, but he
breathed through it and vowed he would not be so greedy as
to lock this treasure away, no matter how much he wanted to.

Weyoun reached the end of the indigo lines and was a little
startled to see Chakotay's eyes open beneath them. He
promptly dove into those deep brown pools, letting the
feelings of love and desire flood him as they always did at
the sight of Chakotay. In his own mind, at least, his future
husband. But even if---when---he found his unknown enemy,
Weyoun didn't want to come to their relationship with
nothing. His lover had shared so much so freely, the Vorta
was desperate to show he could contribute something as well.
As soon as all the questions were settled he would begin a
job search, then look for a home base. When he could prove
himself an equal partner, he would marry Chakotay. Claim
him. That thought made his eyes grow smoky with desire as he
leaned forward to kiss the full lips beneath him.

Chakotay opened his mouth immediately, inviting Weyoun to
take what he wanted. The older man didn't know how he would
cope if his lover abandoned him on the way to a new life.
His soul ached at the thought of an empty ship, empty cabin,
empty bed, empty arms, empty heart. He reached up to wrap
his arms around the slender figure half on top of him. He
needed to be filled, to have a memory at least to hold on
to. He broke off their kiss to look into that desire-flushed
face. "I want you to take me, Weyoun," he said softly.

Weyoun reared back, surprised at the parallel tracks of
their thoughts. He stammered a little nervously. "I-I've
made love *one* time, Chakotay. You know that; you were
there. I can't---"

"Of course you can." Chakotay's voice was firm. "You do what
I did, and let instinct do the rest." His expression turned
shy. "The only question is if you want to."

"Oh, I want to," Weyoun breathed, descending again on those
soft lips. He sucked and nipped at them briefly, then sent
his mouth and hands exploring Chakotay's powerful form. He
covered every inch of the bronze throat and collarbone with
kisses, then small bites, all the while breathing in that
scent that was uniquely Chakotay. His hands shaped the
muscles of the smooth shoulders, and eventually he descended
to experiment on the small dark nipples, warmed by
Chakotay's sounds of pleasure and encouragement.

He threw back the sheets to see all of that smooth satiny
skin. His hands ran over the meaty thighs and calves while
his tongue dipped into an adorable little belly button and
drew wet circles around the navel. Weyoun felt blood pooling
in his own groin as he moved to the rosy aroused cock that
seemed to beg for his attention. His tongue lapped a little
bit of moisture from the flared head, and he paused to savor
the salty taste. Before he could explore further, he felt
Chakotay's hands grip his shoulders to haul him back up to
the older man's level.

Chakotay sensed Weyoun's readiness to go down on him, but he
was yearning to connect in a different way. He wasn't sure
how much time they had. He reached over to the bedside
table, then handed Weyoun the bottle of oil. "Ready?" He
delighted in Weyoun's quick nod. "Then just take your time."
He disentangled their limbs, then flipped over onto his
stomach, tucking a pillow beneath his pelvis and spreading
his legs around Weyoun's unmoving form. He glanced over his
shoulder. "This should be a bit easier---for both of us."

Weyoun swallowed as he slowly ran his eyes down the wide
back, over those extravagant globes and along the strong
legs. He leaned up to place a kiss on Chakotay's nape,
pleased to feel the body beneath him quiver.

He set aside the oil and placed his hands on each shoulder
blade, then ran them down the smooth expanse of skin, thumbs
brushing against the spine and nails lightly scraping. When
he reached that magnificent ass he felt his erection twitch,
as if yearning toward its destination. He squeezed two
handfuls of the rounded muscles, then traced the crease at
the beginning of each thigh. Chakotay moaned and shuddered
under his ministrations. Weyoun let his hands wander
underneath to gently comb through soft pubic hair and brush
the prone man's perineum.

"Do it Weyoun," Chakotay breathed, no power behind the
words. He was tantalized and tormented by those stroking
digits. He definitely wanted to feel them inside his body.
He lifted and moved his hips slightly, reminding the younger
man where his focus should be.

Weyoun opened the oil, and with trembling hands lubricated
his almost painfully erect shaft. He hissed at the touch of
the thick fluid against its heated length. He coated his
fingers, then slowly breached Chakotay's anus. The feeling
of muscle clamping around him caused his cock to twitch in
anticipation once more.

Chakotay was awash in the pleasure. One delicate hand
stroked two, then three fingers in and out of his body,
rhythmically grazing his prostate. The other roamed at will
over his skin, walking up and down his spine, tracing the
flair of his hip, caressing his ass. Chakotay couldn't
figure out when he was inhaling, but he knew he must be
because he was sending out one long continuous moan.

Weyoun edged forward on his knees, carefully lining up his
erection with the gleaming entrance to his lover's body. He
remembered Chakotay's careful, gradual claiming, but he
wasn't sure his control would be that good. He gripped the
bronze ass with both hands, using his thumbs to pull the
twin orbs apart to expose the loosened portal even more. He
wanted to watch his cock disappear into his lover's depths.
He felt resistance as the head of his penis made its way
past the ring of muscle. He pushed forward only a little,
unwilling to cause the man beneath him any pain.

Chakotay felt Weyoun's uncertainty and knew he had to act.
He raised himself onto elbows and knees and moved back in
one long smooth motion, taking Weyoun's full length inside
his body. He gave a satisfied sigh, then paused, waiting for
the younger man to take control once more.

Weyoun was lost in the moment. He'd been a little shocked
when Chakotay impaled himself, but also relieved. Now he was
in heaven, feeling the small contractions of Chakotay's
channel as it tried to close around him. As though the
bronze body wanted to keep Weyoun bound to it, their flesh
forever joined. He broke the moment with a full-body shudder
of pleasure, then began to slowly thrust.

Chakotay began moaning again as Weyoun gained confidence
with every stroke, moving harder and deeper each time. Their
flesh slapped together in an erotic drumbeat each time
Weyoun's forward motion met Chakotay's counterthrust as they
drove in tandem. Weyoun let one hand grip hard at Chakotay's
hip. He leaned forward to cover the body surging back to
meet him, licking at the salty sweat on the strong shoulders
and back. His other hand moved underneath to tweak
Chakotay's nipples, then slowly drift down to grasp his
dripping cock.

Chakotay almost lost the rhythm when he felt a hand close
around his straining shaft. His moans turned to incoherent
pleas that Weyoun immediately answered. Weyoun pistoned even
faster into Chakotay's ass, the force driving the bronze
man's erection into the blessed friction of Weyoun's fist.

Chakotay felt himself reaching the edge, then sailing over
it in a screaming, writhing climax. Even in the haze of
release he felt the splash of Weyoun's cum coating his
bowels as the younger man emptied himself in a flurry of
frantic thrusts. Chakotay clenched his internal muscles,
keeping Weyoun's shaft buried as he let his body collapse,
bringing both men down to the mattress with a last sigh.

Weyoun still heard the blood pounding through his ear
hollows as he limply lay, arms and legs encasing the sated
form beneath him. He was still shaking from those last
moments, as Chakotay climaxed into his hand and then all
around him. His penis was squeezed in its muscular sheath,
driving Weyoun to shoot his semen as deeply as possible into
his lover's body. He pressed kisses into the damp skin under
his lips, then languidly lapped more of the sweat glistening
on the broad shoulders.

Chakotay lifted himself slightly, then twisted his torso and
sank a hand into Weyoun's hair, touching the pale forehead
to his own. "Thank you," he said, then drew back and lost
himself in the depths of those sea-bright eyes. Anything
else either man might have revealed at that moment was
forgotten as the comm system beeped. Chakotay felt Weyoun's
cock slip from his body as the men slowly disengaged and
struggled to control their breathing. "Chakotay here."

Ayala responded, "Sorry to wake you early, Chakotay, but the
DreamCatcher made better time than expected. We'll be in
orbit around Bajor in a little more than half an hour. Ayala
out."

Both men sighed into the renewed stillness. There was no
more time. For words, or decisions, or anything except
preparations for the meeting that could forever change their
lives.

************************************************************

Ro Laren had lost none of her whipcord strength or
sharp-edged beauty. Her no-nonsense verbal style had also
remained intact through the years. The chains of the
Bajoran's earring jangled with its owner's agitation as she
paced. "I can't believe they kept this from me," she growled
once more as she turned the corner of the dining-room table.

Chakotay watched Ro gracefully weaving around furniture as
anger drove her through the arch to the living room. A fire
burned there in a simple stone hearth, adding to the
welcoming atmosphere the ex-Maquis had created in her first
real home. He smiled to himself as he contrasted all the
warm colors and throw pillows with the steely aura his old
friend still tried to project. He sobered as his wandering
eyes fell upon the padd on the table in front of him. He
pulled it forward, even as he tried to soothe Ro's fury.
"You've been raging about this off and on for an hour. It's
in the past, Ro. They probably didn't tell you because they
knew you wouldn't approve."

"I would have done more than disapprove, Chakotay. What they
did was like abducting a child. By the Prophets, they stole
him while he was still being *grown.* They planned to
brainwash Weyoun, and dozens like him, to make him think
that Michael was that, that---what they called the
Founders---Ever-Changing? A god. He would have worshipped
Michael Eddington like he was a god. Done anything for him.
Died for him. That's worse than slavery, Chakotay."

Ro's path brought her back to Chakotay's side, her rage
finally spent. She sounded bitter and defeated as she sank
into the chair next to him. "I couldn't believe it when
Rebecca told me. It's no different than the Cardassians with
their twisted mind games. Or the Dominion, breeding servants
with no will of their own." He could see the sheen of tears
in her dark eyes. "The Maquis were better than this. *We*
were better than this."

Chakotay covered her clenched fists with one hand. He
swallowed his own grief and disappointment to offer what
comfort he could. "Ro---*Laren*, it's all right. Michael
never got to carry out his plan. They used so many resources
stealing Weyoun and the technology they didn't have enough
left to maintain more than the one chamber." He looked down
a moment, then made a decision and met Ro's eyes. "I think
he changed his mind at the end, Ro. He kept the activation
sequence to himself, even after he was captured. He didn't
even tell Rebecca. And he stayed behind at Altos IV. Maybe
he wanted to try and free Weyoun, but died before he got the
chance."

He cleared his throat and chuckled nervously. "Rebecca
looked at me like I was crazy when I told her this, but here
goes." He took a deep breath. "Michael...contacted me. In a
dream. That's how I knew to go to the planet. And *he* gave
me the activation code---in a vision." He spread his hands.
"No one imprinted Weyoun during the process, so he awakened
without any outside influence. Michael wanted to set things
right, Ro. He made me promise to take care of Weyoun."

Ro's eyes revived with a faint twinkle. "And you decided to
care for him, all on your own?" She gave her former comrade
a knowing grin.

Chakotay felt his whole face heat with a blush. "Am I that
obvious?"

She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder as her face softened.
"I remember how you were with Kurt. So, yeah, it's pretty
obvious to me." She dipped her head a little to catch his
embarrassed brown eyes. "Why haven't you told Weyoun?"

"I can't, Ro. You're right, I do love him, but he has to
make his own decisions. And to do that he needs time, and
space." Chakotay sighed. "And no 'outside influence'. If he
wants to go his own way, I'll let him."

Ro gave her friend a squeeze and a small smile. "No matter
how much it hurts. No wonder Michael chose you. You're too
damn noble for your own good."

Chakotay shrugged. "I think it's more likely I'm the only
one who wouldn't automatically freak out, seeing a ghost."

"Well, for what it's worth, I think Weyoun couldn't be in
better hands. And if he's smart, he'll stay in them." She
grinned again. "Of course, if you're lucky, Rebecca's
figured it out as well and is grilling Weyoun along with the
vegetables." She took the padd from Chakotay, filled with
new determination. "But with or without you, he needs to be
safe. Let's look at Rebecca's data again. Maybe this time
we'll figure out who set Federation assassins on your tail."

Chakotay nodded grimly. "And why."

************************************************************

Weyoun angrily shoved clothing into the large duffel bag
he'd found in the other room, fiercely blinking back tears.
He had originally decided not to come back at all, to just
walk away from Ro Laren's house and find a hole to crawl
into. But with his mind locked in an endless loop of
betrayal and despair, his feet had chosen their own course.
The echo from the metal floor had jolted him from his mental
fog to discover he had arrived in the DreamCatcher's cargo
bay.

The day had started out so promisingly. After splitting from
Ayala and Geron, who were off on some mysterious errand of
their own, Chakotay and he had walked to Ro Laren's charming
cottage on the outskirts of town. He'd been introduced to
the blunt ex-Maquis and her more subdued guest, Rebecca
Eddington.

The widow had apparently received but not answered
Chakotay's original message. The sad-eyed woman said she had
thought it would be better to speak face-to-face and made
her way secretly to Bajor. The dark-haired traveler figured
that even if Chakotay and Ro didn't know any of the secrets
surrounding Altos IV, they'd start digging with
characteristic tenacity until they exposed everything.
Rebecca had decided to simply hand over the information and
save everyone from interrogation at the ex-Maquis' hands.

Rebecca had outlined a crazy, ambitious plan by a group of
desperate people. Weyoun hadn't known how to react to the
knowledge that the supposedly noble freedom fighters had
kidnapped him, and had planned to create a whole army of
Maquis-worshipping Vorta clones. He'd been grateful to feel
the comforting squeeze of Chakotay's hand on his own under
the table, and the ready sympathy in the dark eyes.

The trouble had started when Ro jumped up to rave and pace,
going ballistic as the realization of what her comrades had
done suddenly sunk in. Weyoun and Rebecca decided to escape
to the kitchen to prepare lunch, leaving Chakotay to calm
down Ro. Weyoun had gone ahead while the older man grabbed a
quick word with Rebecca, but she soon arrived to join in
chopping a pile of produce.

The conversation began innocently enough on the topic of
food. Apparently people really did remember Chakotay's pali
nabotash with great fondness. After a discussion of the
complex Bajoran dish, they'd shared a comfortable silence
until Rebecca broke the quiet with, "Don't worry."

"About what?" Weyoun asked, confused.

"About anything, really. I'm sure we'll figure out who's
after you, and even if we don't, Chakotay will make sure
nothing happens to you." She confided, "He takes his
promises very seriously."

"He hasn't promised me anything," Weyoun said a little
wistfully, thinking about his own hopes and plans.

"Well, I'm sure he will soon enough. After all, he's already
made the commitment." She slowly shook her head. "That man
really is much too noble for his own good."

"*What* are you talking about?" Weyoun spun to face Rebecca,
feeling the sick swirl of tension in his stomach.

"Chakotay considers his word his bond. He'll do everything
and *anything* he must to keep it, even if he made the
promise to a dead man."

"Huh? Who?"

"Michael, of course. Chakotay had a 'vision' that told him
where to find you. In it he swore to my husband he would
take care of you." She turned back to the vegetables,
unaware of Weyoun's hitching breath and clenched hands. "My
advice is to just relax and let Chakotay handle things. He's
probably got everything planned, even a way to keep you safe
under his wing. I'm told he can be...very persuasive. Like I
said, you have nothing to worry about."

Weyoun's world crashed as he substituted "under his wing"
with "in his bed". He staggered under the weight of knowing
all that *loving* concern and tender care had just been part
of some grand scheme to keep him at Chakotay's side.
Weyoun's lips twisted as he realized the lengths the older
man had felt driven to just to keep his word. The walls
started closing in. He had to get out of there---now. He
mumbled some excuse to Rebecca and fled.

Now, Weyoun was barely in control as he hurriedly packed in
the cabin where he thought he'd found happiness,
fulfillment, love. He felt a jolt as his hands unconsciously
closed on the robe laying under the edge of the bag. He
lifted it, fingering the soft cloth. He brought it to his
nose, inhaling, but the older man's scent had long been
superseded by his own.

It hit Weyoun then: he'd never wake again surrounded by
those strong arms, that wonderfully warm body or sweet-spice
scent. Burying his face in the robe, Weyoun sank down on the
bed and succumbed to his tears.

************************************************************

Ro and Chakotay wandered into the kitchen, taking a break
from their fruitless speculations. He stopped in shock at
the sight of the lone figure brushing oil over vegetables.
"Where's Weyoun?"

Rebecca looked up from her task. "He said something about
hearing so many people mention pali nabotash he wanted to
try the dish himself. He went to the market, um, fifteen
minutes ago."

"You let him leave *alone*?" Chakotay whirled to face a
startled Ro. "Where would he go to get it?"

The Bajoran's brow furrowed in concentration. "There are
three farmers' markets around here. Not to mention more than
half a dozen shops that carry it. We'd better split up."

Rebecca piped up, "You really think he's in danger?"

Chakotay answered, "We haven't been able to figure out what
anyone would gain from hurting Weyoun. Whoever it is could
be stalking him right now." He fought down his fear and
started issuing orders. "Ro, you know the territory better
than us. I know of three shops and a market west of here.
I'll cover them. You handle the others. Rebecca---"

"I think I should stay here, in case Weyoun comes back. And
I can try contacting Greg and Tem, maybe get them to help
with the search."

Ro ducked into the living room and returned to hand Chakotay
a phaser. "Sounds like a plan. Let's get moving."

Chakotay nodded worriedly and followed her out the back
door, leaving Rebecca in the now silent kitchen.

************************************************************

Weyoun hadn't cried long but his throat and eyes were sore.
He got up and stumbled to the bathroom, washing his face and
taking a long drink of water. He stared at his reflection a
moment, then gathered some toiletries and headed back toward
the bed. The items dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers
as he saw who awaited him.

"What the *hell* do you think you're doing?" Chakotay
growled, his relief quickly overwhelmed by anger and hidden
panic. He still hadn't shaken the sense of impending doom
that stopped him in his tracks halfway to the first shop.
Obeying his instincts, he'd headed for the DreamCatcher at a
run. Only to find Weyoun safe and sound and apparently
preparing to leave him. He pulled the phaser from his belt
and tossed it on the bed. "Well?" he demanded, hands on
hips.

Weyoun swallowed. He'd hoped to never see Chakotay again. He
could feel a self-defensive sneer form. "What does it look
like? Getting out." He swooped down to pick up his things
and dumped them in the bag. "You don't have to pretend any
more. I release you from all promises." His voice was
deliberately cutting. "You really should consider switching
from writing to acting, Chakotay. Your performance was
absolutely flawless." He fell silent as hurt closed his
throat.

"What?" Chakotay was bewildered. "Pretending? Promises? What
are you babbling about?" Getting nothing in reply, he moved
to the younger man and grabbed him in frustration. "Talk to
me!"

The touch of those powerful hands broke Weyoun's silence. He
pulled free, moving away with a snarl. "Rebecca explained it
to me, Chakotay. How you consider yourself responsible for
me because of some crazy dream. That you would do *anything*
to make sure I was safe---that I stayed with you."

He stalked back, practically spitting in Chakotay's stunned
face. "What a pity you thought you had to stoop to sleeping
with me. It was so totally unnecessary. Fool that I am, I
would have been happy just to share your bed for as long as
you'd have me. No pity fucks required!"

Chakotay felt something snap at Weyoun's statement. His
fingers again bit into the Vorta's biceps as he punctuated
each shout with a shake. "I have *never* pretended with you.
You think all our time together was some plan to become your
bodyguard?" His anger ratcheted higher. "Is that really why
you think I made love with you? *Gave myself to you?* It was
just part of the service?" He flung the slender form away.

He didn't see the shock in Weyoun's eyes as he dejectedly
slumped on the bed, anger spent. "In a way you're right; I
did feel responsible at first. Until you showed me you
didn't need a guardian. Then I realized I had to let you go
to find your own path." His voice faded to a whisper as he
stared into space. "Even after I fell in love with you."

Chakotay took a deep breath and faced the dumbstruck Vorta.
"It's obvious you no longer trust me. And I did make a
promise that you would be safe. Please, stay aboard the
DreamCatcher." He stood. "I'll give you the ship. Greg and
Tem can help you until you find your own crew. Head through
the wormhole, make a home in the Federation, or just keep
traveling." He looked away. "Whatever you want to do."

Weyoun felt queasy from the rollercoaster of emotions he'd
been riding since waking up that morning. He stared at
Chakotay, pained by his lover's defeated air. He shook his
head, trying to make sense of things.

He'd been so hurt when he thought Chakotay was just
pretending. All of his hopes and dreams were wrapped up in
the bronze man now avoiding his gaze. Weyoun frowned. Maybe
he *did* need to go it alone. He could prove he was able to
protect himself, make his own friends, decide his own
future.

But...Chakotay loved him. Apparently enough to let him go.
And, in the strictest sense, enough to break the promise
he'd made. Knowing how important the former Maquis' word was
to him, Weyoun almost didn't believe it.

The younger man looked again at the grief etched on the
beloved face. He moved forward and watched as Chakotay
braced himself, then turned to meet Weyoun's eyes. The pain
dulling the deep brown was too great not to be real. The
Vorta felt his spirits lift, soaring higher than he'd ever
dreamed. He smiled. "What if what I want to do...is spend my
life with you?"

There had been no tension as Chakotay awaited Weyoun's
decision. Grief numbed the anxiety as he realized his
treasure was lost. He stoically watched the younger man
approach him, then felt confusion rise when he met aqua eyes
as dazzling as a sunlit sea. He couldn't believe what Weyoun
had said. "What?"

Weyoun took Chakotay's hand, laying it over his own heart.
"I said, 'What if I want to spend my life with you'. You are
more important to me than anyone I've ever known. Even the
Founders. I trust you, Chakotay. I love you." He clutched
the hand laying on his chest. "Can we forget this and start
again?"

"No." Weyoun felt his heart seize. Then Chakotay's smile
beamed forth. "I want to remember every moment with you."

Both men turned as the bedroom door opened, startled by the
sight of Rebecca Eddington pointing an old-fashioned phaser.
She stopped, frowning. "You're not supposed to be here,
Chakotay. Now step away from the clone."

Chakotay eyed the hopeless distance to his own weapon. He
didn't move. "How did you get aboard?" he asked quietly.

The dark-haired woman snorted. "I contacted Ayala and
suggested he give me a passcode." Her voice turned mocking.
"To check if our little lost lamb had found his way home."

Weyoun watched the weapon steadily pointed at them. "No
wonder Ro and Chakotay couldn't figure out who betrayed us.
You would hardly give them incriminating data." He met
Rebecca's eyes and flinched at the hint of madness in them.
"You contacted Section 31. They fired on your friends
because I was aboard. *Why*?"

Rebecca paced around the two men, irritated when Chakotay
kept blocking her shots. Her voice was reflective. "I always
knew I came second with Michael. That our cause was first in
his mind." She faltered. "In his heart." She continued, "I
could accept being second best, but then *it* came into the
picture." She stopped.

Her eyes sliced through Weyoun. "The clone became his
obsession. Michael talked about his plans all the time. How
it would be our salvation." She gestured. "I wasn't even
second anymore. Maybe fourth. After you, and the plot to get
you."

She shifted her grip as the phaser wavered, then firmed.
"And when we finally sacrificed so much to get it, what did
Michael do? Nothing!" Her face twisted with anger. "He
couldn't 'take advantage of an innocent'. Wouldn't let
anyone else imprint it. Sealed it away in a stasis chamber.
And never mentioned it again."

Chakotay made sure Weyoun was fully hidden behind him. He'd
been watching for an opening, but it seemed Rebecca had also
retained her Maquis training. He tried to distract the
distraught woman. "It's been a long time, Rebecca. Why now?
You could have gone back to Altos IV any day since you left
prison."

Her eyes unfocused. "Because being locked away was as good
as dead. I wouldn't have to do anything, and when the power
finally failed it would just...fade away. I was moving on
with my life. Then I hear from you, and it all came back. I
knew you'd manage to master the activation sequence,
Chakotay. So now this *thing* is alive and Michael's dead.
Because he stayed behind---to save it."

She breathed and relaxed into a smug pose. "I had it all
planned. Untraceable hints dropped to Section 31. They'd do
the job for me. I'll admit I was surprised to learn you'd
survived when Ro commed me with word of your meeting. But it
gave me the time to come up with a backup plan."
Her lip curled. "I could see the puppy dog already panting
after you, Chakotay. *So* devoted. And then you shared your
comforting story. That made things easy. Drop a hint here
and a suggestion there, and the betrayed little thing turned
tail and ran." Her eyes turned cold. "I didn't think you'd
be smart enough to follow, though. Pity. I always liked you,
Chakotay." She raised the phaser and aimed. "But since you
refuse to get out of my way, I'll have to go through you."

Weyoun screamed "No!" and pushed Chakotay hard. Their legs
entangled. He could hear phaser fire as both men fell. Then
silence.

************************************************************

Chill. Loneliness. Fear. Chakotay bolted upright, wildly
searching. "Weyoun!" he shouted.

A hand gripped his shoulder. Chakotay turned slightly to
meet relieved blue-green eyes, then felt himself gathered
into a desperate embrace. "You're all right," he breathed as
he reached up to caress springy black curls.

Weyoun pressed closer, burying his face in the older man's
neck. "I was so afraid I'd lost you, Chakotay." He
shuddered.

After some time quietly absorbing each other, Chakotay
pushed back and framed the pale face, stroking Weyoun's
ridges as he searched for any sign of distress. "Were you
hurt? What happened?"

"I think we'd better answer that." Both men jumped slightly
at the brisk voice. Ro Laren strode into the room, followed
closely by Ayala and Geron. They smiled at the sight of a
robed Weyoun half-sprawled on Chakotay's naked chest.

"You should make up your mind, Weyoun, on or off," Geron
teased.

"On," the Vorta retorted, lifting Chakotay's blanket and
nudging the older man aside. He then graced his audience
with an exaggerated stretch and satisfied sigh. They all
noticed how serious his eyes were, however, as he gently ran
his hands over the bronze skin, reassuring himself that it
was whole again.

"Now if you're settled, *children*, I'll start your bedtime
story." Ro sobered, approached the pair and laid a gentle
hand on Chakotay's shoulder. "Rebecca's dead."

Chakotay stared at her. "How? She was the only one with a
phaser."

Geron spoke up, his eyes serious. "Greg and I came back. We
thought we'd take the ship up and use the sensors to track
down Weyoun. When we realized security and communications
were down, we secured the bridge, then started searching
cabins. Yours was first in line."

Ayala picked up the story. "I walked in just as she fired. I
saw the two of you go down and tackled Rebecca. She was
still pushing the fire button when she landed on the
phaser." He looked down. "She didn't make it." The tall man
leaned into his lover's comforting hug.

Chakotay swallowed and reached for Weyoun's hand. "How badly
were we hurt?"

Ro shrugged. "Thanks to this Sickbay, we got to you pretty
quickly. Weyoun had a few burns, and you took a serious hit
to the chest and shoulder. We kept you under until now to
let everything heal."

The older man offered a grateful smile, then sobered. "The
authorities?"

"Been and gone. Apparently someone in the Federation had
filed a report on your troubles even before you arrived." Ro
paused. "They took the body. If no one claims it, we'll have
the funeral on Bajor."

Everyone nodded and spent a moment remembering a woman whose
life ended so tragically. Then Weyoun perked up a little and
looked at the standing men. "Maybe it's time for some good
news."

"Oh, yeah, now I remember." Ayala snapped his fingers. "Tem
and I got married."

"*What*?" Chakotay was stunned. "Just like that?"

Geron smiled. "Yep, just like that. The old man finally came
up with a convincing argument." He shared a sizzling look
with his new husband. "Very convincing."

"I *don't* want to know." Chakotay said. He looked at
Weyoun. "So what do you say, should we offer them the
DreamCatcher shuttle service for their honeymoon?" His
expression grew uncertain. "Unless you have other plans?"

"Why are you even bothering to ask? It's not like he has any
say in the matter." Geron grinned at four pairs of puzzled
eyes. "Now that I've heard the whole story, I'm afraid
Weyoun simply *has* to stay with Chakotay. 'Finders,
Keepers' after all."

"What do you mean?" Weyoun demanded.

Chakotay gazed at his love. "It's an old saying. It means
you don't get a choice. I found you, so I keep you.
Forever."

Weyoun pondered that a moment, then gasped in mock horror.
"Doesn't that make me a kept man?" His laughing eyes
narrowed as he threatened, "You'd better be planning to make
me an honest one, Mister."

"We're going to wait a year. Yes, a year," Chakotay held off
the younger man's protest. Then his face softened. "Please,
Weyoun. This is so important. Let's take our time."

Weyoun smiled and stroked a bronze cheek. "As long as it's
an engagement, not an estrangement, I think I'll be okay."
He laid back with a casual air, "Besides, we can spend that
time looking for a planetside home base. We'll have to do a
lot of research: population, technology, climate, culture,
taxes, medical facilities, schools, playgrounds..."

"Whoa, wait a minute. Playgrounds? What are you talking
about?"

Weyoun leaned in to whisper in Chakotay's ear, "Though we
haven't used the equipment in centuries, the Vorta are just
a little bit different from humans." He settled back with a
grin. "I checked. When we're both ready, it'll take just a
quick trip to the doctor's. But I insist, *after* the
wedding."

Chakotay laughed and hugged the slender body. "Are you
always going to be so full of surprises, my treasure? I'm
not sure I'm going to be able to hold out for the full 12
months."

Weyoun sighed. "It's going to be a wonderful year."

"A wonderful life," Chakotay answered.

They sealed the promise with a kiss.

The End