Lost (VOY-SENTINEL E/K, P/K, E/S NC-17)
Author: A. Kite, Akite68163@aol.com
Codes: Jim Ellison/Harry Kim, Tom Paris/Harry Kim, and Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg
Series: The Sentinel and Star Trek: Voyager, a crossover
Warning: This is an NC-17 story. It contains explicit descriptions of m/m sex. If you might be offended or under the age of 18 years, please read no further.
Summary: Harry Kim is lost in time, and an encounter with Jim Ellison has a profound effect on both their lives.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Pet Fly Productions, Paramount and UPN, but you knew that already, huh? No copyright infringement was intended.

Feedback, comments and constructive criticism are always welcome, either to the group or to the addy above. I must acknowledge my wonderful beta reader and my PacKage listsibs. I could not have written this story without them.

Lost
A. Kite (1999)

Ellison entered the building and headed for the elevators. After double checking the room number at the nurse's station, he headed down the hall to Room 347. Jim had been barely civil to the pretty blonde nurse when she offered to show him the way. He knew his way around this hospital way too well. Thinking of all the times that either he, himself had been a patient here or someone he cared about was.

The doctor was just finishing an examination when Ellison opened the door. "Detective Ellison, Cascade P.D., " he identified himself. The doctor stepped back from the bed and Jim got his first look at the patient. The young Asian man lying there had eyes filled with fear and confusion. Soft, gentle brown eyes that spoke of a cheerful disposition in other circumstances.

Jim's heart went out to the young man when he looked up hopefully at his approach and asked, "Do you know me? Can you tell me who I am?"

"No, I'm sorry. I'm with the police. We're going to find out who you are and where you belong," Jim promised without a thought to how he was going to accomplish it. He ran a soothing hand over the man's head and whisked his dark hair off his forehead. The gesture seemed to reassure the man and his eyes drifted closed.

Ellison turned back to the doctor. "What can you tell me?"

The doctor jerked his head toward the door. "Come on, let's talk outside." Jim followed the doctor out. "That's the first time that he's relaxed enough to sleep since he was brought in late last night. There's not much I can tell you. Medically, he's got a pretty nasty concussion, but that seems to be coming along nicely except for his memory. Memory loss is fairly common with injuries of this type, but total amnesia... I've never dealt with a case this severe."

As the doctor talked they moved down the hall the to visitor's lounge. "The trooper that brought him in is waiting to brief you. I need to finish my rounds. I'll stop back by before I leave the floor."

Ellison nodded and went into the lounge. The state trooper tossed aside the magazine he had been skimming and rose to greet his fellow officer. "Sgt. Sam Jackson, Washington State Patrol," he said as he shook Ellison's hand. "You're Ellison?"

"Yes, Jim Ellison, Cascade P.D. What's the scoop on our John Doe?"

"I found him wandering along Highway 36 about ten miles outside of town. He was disoriented and confused. At first I thought the guy was drunk or stoned. He was wearing a strange looking outfit and had some devices on him."

"Devices?"

"Yeah," the trooper answered. Jackson bend down and retrieved a bag. Jim looked inside. They looked experimental. Now there was an angle. Maybe young Doe worked for one of the high tech outfits in town. When he voiced that idea the trooper said, "We checked and none of the high technology firms have reported any stolen equipment or missing employees."

Ellison nodded. "Yeah, but a case of corporate espionage, they may not report."

"You're right. I wish sometimes that I'd gone your route, detective. I'm just a simple patrolman, and I'll leave this in your hands. If that's all, I'd like to cut out of here now. I need some sleep before my shift tonight."

"Oh yeah, sure Jackson, we're done," Jim responded to the subtle prodding. "Thanks for sticking around to talk to me in person." Jim sighed and sat down to wait for the doctor. [Now I know why Major Crimes is involved, but why didn't Simon say anything about this stuff found on the guy?]

He opened the bag and looked again. There was a rectangular device that flipped open like a cell phone with touch pads and a display screen. A gold pin that looked like a piece of jewelry, but who knew? And what could only be a weapon of some sort, Jim examined all but the last item. He didn't handle it at all. It was a pistol-like device, but there was no obvious place that he could see to insert ammo without picking it up.

The doctor came into the lounge, and Jim brought his mind back to the person rather than the equipment. "We're going to keep him under observation for at least another 24 hours before releasing him," the doctor was saying.

"I should know enough by then to either take him into custody or not."

"Hopefully, some of his memory will have come back before you have to take him in," the doctor responded with a slight look of distaste. "I'd hate to see the young man have to deal with jail on top of amnesia."

Ellison stood up and took the bag. "I'm going to follow up on what few leads there are. I'll be back later to check on our John Doe." The doctor and the detective shook hands, and Jim headed to the station.

Hours later he was back at the hospital. None of the leads had gone anywhere. There were still no reports of a theft, and no missing persons reports matched the description of the man he watched sleeping in the hospital bed. The man stirred and seconds later jolted up with his wide with panic. "Easy, easy now," Jim said as he took the other's shoulder and steered him to lie back down.

"Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital, in Cascade, Washington. Do you remember now?"

The young man sagged down further into the pillow. "Sorry, I panicked there for a minute. I remember that much at least. I remember you too. You were here before, weren't you?"

"Yes, I'm Jim Ellison with the police department. I'm working on your case."

"Oh. Have I done something wrong? Committed a crime?" the young man asked apprehensively.

Ellison sighed, "Look, I wish I could tell you no, but we just don't know yet."

The Asian whispered as his eyes started to drift shut, "Just don't send me back to that prison. It was horrible."

[Prison?] Jim left the room thoroughly puzzled by the revelation. He caught the doctor as he came onto the floor. They went into the small office behind the nurse's station to talk. Ellison started, "How's the kid doing?"

"Better, he slept most of the day. Your visit this morning was a Godsend. Like I told you then, before you calmed him down, he wouldn't sleep. I'd set him up for release tomorrow, but where would he go?"

"I've got an idea about that," Jim answered. "Why don't you plan on releasing him tomorrow?"

"Uh, Detective, I don't want to tell you how to do your job, but I won't release him to be sent to jail. If it comes to that, we'll just keep him here."

"Don't worry, until we get some answers, he won't be in jail."

"All right, if you say so," the doctor said in relief. He would have hated to throw his weight around, but would do it for a patient. This one needed a champion.

The doctor and Ellison went their separate ways. Jim went down to his truck and placed a call to his captain, Simon Banks. Jim set up things to take the John Doe into protective custody. He discussed the idea he had when the Asian had mentioned prison. Maybe he was one of those Chinese student dissidents. It would be hard to verify if the man had come into the country illegally, but Jim wanted to cover all the bases. Simon was also going to check recent releases from the state's prison system. There was nothing else to be done, so Ellison headed home.

Jim arrived home to the empty loft and made himself a quick meal. He tried to watch a basketball game on TV, but couldn't concentrate. His mind kept going back to the young man in the hospital. He hoped by morning that someone would have filed a missing persons report on him. A good-looking kid like that, someone should be missing him.

Jim went to bed but had trouble falling asleep. There were none of the comforting sounds he had grown used to. No clicking of a keyboard, no soft breathing or heartbeat to ease him into sleep. Damn, he missed Sandburg, but it was a good think he was gone for a few days. This way John Doe could have Blair's bed and not have to camp out on the couch.

Jim woke up the next morning and grabbed a quick shower. God, the bathroom was a mess, but there wasn't time to clean it up. He was going to have to have another talk with Sandburg about cleaning up after himself. He hoped Blair's room wasn't too much of a pigsty as he headed out the door.

Ellison went in to the station. Nothing much had changed overnight. No one meeting the man's description had been released from any of the state's prisons in the last three months. No word from INS had come either. He logged in the things that had been found in John Doe's possession as evidence, and when the time came he drove over to the hospital.

The doctor met him at the elevators as soon as he got to the third floor. "Ummm... there's a slight problem with the release, the doctor told Jim.

"A problem?"

"Our patient doesn't have anything to wear."

"What happened to the clothes we was wearing when he was brought in?"

"They were a mess. The folks down in ER threw them away."

"Let's see... could you lend him a set of scrubs?" Jim suggested.

Relieved, the doctor agreed and had an orderly go fetch them. Ellison went to explain to the John Doe what was going on.

The young man seemed glad to see him and had no problem with being in protective custody. He wasn't enthusiastic about having to be wheelchaired out to the curb, and he looked dubiously at Jim's truck before allowing Ellison to help him into it. Jim got behind the wheel and reached over to buckle his passenger's seatbelt.

"If you feel up to it, I'm going to take the scenic route to my apartment. Let me know if you see anything familiar," Jim said as he put the truck in gear and pulled away from the hospital. It was out of the way, but he wanted to drive out to the industrial park.

Ellison drove around the hi-tech firms in Cascade's industrial park slowly. He looked over at his passenger frequently to check if he recognized anything. The kid just shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I don't know this place." Then closed his eyes and rested his head back.

"It's okay. Let's head back to my place. You look like you need a rest."

They arrived at the loft, and Jim led his charge inside. John Doe looked skeptically at the primitive looking elevator, but didn't say anything on the ride up. Jim showed him the way to Blair's room and was pleased to see that it was fairly tidy for once.

"Here you can rest in here."

"Thank you, uh... Mr. Ellison," the young man said politely, not sure how to address him. "Do you think I could take a shower first?"

"Sure the bathroom's over here, and call me Jim." Jim opened the bathroom door and winced. He had forgotten about the mess. "You'll have to excuse the mess. My roommate gets his hair all over." John Doe jerked to a stop. "What is it?" Jim asked in concern.

"Hair," he said quietly, his brow wrinkled in concentration. "I think my name has something to do with hair."

"Harry?"

The kid's face lit up like Christmas. "Yes, I'm sure. My name is Harry. Or at least part of it is." He was grinning widely. "Thanks Jim."

"I didn't do anything. You're the one who remembered," Jim said modestly smiling as he backed out of the bathroom. "Clean towels are in the cupboard there." Jim closed the door and headed to the kitchen. He was rummaging around in the refrigerator when Harry stuck his head out called for him.

"I'm feeling really stupid here, but you're going to have to show me how to turn this thing on." Harry's face was flushed with embarrassment.

Jim came into the bathroom. [That's weird, most amnesia victims usually remember how to do the everyday stuff.] His brain stopped, frozen in mid-thought when he saw Harry. The younger man had shed the surgical scrubs and was spectacularly nude. Jim couldn't help looking at him. Harry's body was perfection. Wide shoulders, smooth hairless chest, Jim slip his eyes lower.

"Jim," Harry said and Ellison pulled his gaze back to Harry's face. It was even redder than before. "The shower, you were going to show me how to use the shower," Harry reminded him.

Flustered, Ellison turned quickly and fumbled back the shower curtain. "This handle's for hot water, the other for cold. Turn them to the right for on and back to the left to turn them off." He pointed and mimed as he spoke then turned to leave, resolutely averting his eyes.

Harry called a thanks as Jim closed the door behind him. He heard the water turned on as leaned against the wall. He took a deep steadying breath and started chastising himself. [What's gotten into you, Ellison? That kid's not here for you to take advantage of. He's scared and lost and...] A picture of Harry standing naked under the flow of water invaded his mind. [And absolutely gorgeous.] Jim groaned as heat filled his groin. He fought the feeling as he had all his life. He pushed it down and went up to his bedroom to see if he could round up something for Harry to wear.

Jim opened the closet and assessed his clothing. Shirts should be no problem. He and Harry were of a size through the chest though the neck and arms might be a little big. He refused to think about the vast expanse of smooth skin, and the well defined pecs he had been ogling just moments ago. [Pants, what are we going to do about pants?] Ellison sublimated like hell. Harry was shorter than he, but Jim remembered a pair of jeans that he had shrunk in the wash. In the days after his ex-wife, Carolyn had left and before Blair moved in he had botched a good pair of jeans.

Jim rummaged around in a drawer and picked out a few pairs of little worn socks. After a couple of minutes of rationalization, he opened his underwear drawer and got out a never opened package of bikini type jockey shorts. He was a boxer man himself, but had received them as a gag gift on his last birthday. At least, he thought Sandburg gave them to him as a gag.

After gathering the clothes in a bundle, Jim carried them downstairs and set them on the bed in Blair's room. As he was exiting, Harry appeared in the doorway. Jim had to step back into the room to let him enter. He felt the attraction he had for the young man pull at him again.

Harry was carrying the scrubs and his boots and a towel was secured around his waist. The smells of clean skin and freshly shampooed hair tickled at Jim's sensitive nose. Underneath that was the unique odor of the man himself. The arousal that came with the scent was ruthlessly pushed down. Jim wet his lips and managed to say, "I scrounged up some things for you to wear."

"Thanks, Jim. I appreciate it. I guess I can use the scrubs for pajamas."

"Uhh... sure whatever you're comfortable with Harry. Let me get this stuff out of your way. You need to rest now." Jim refused to let himself think of the alternative of nothing at all. He moved the clothes to the dresser and got out of the room as fast as he politely could.

Hours later, Ellison was pulled abruptly from a sound sleep. His enhanced senses reached out to determine the threat. There it was. A whimper that would have been soft if not for his Sentinel abilities. Downstairs! Someone was hurting his guide! The Sentinel was going on pure instinct. He was down the stairs, ready to take on anything but what he found.

The realization that it wasn't Blair in his guide's bed, and the threat was nothing he could battle physically slammed into Jim. Harry was in the grip of a powerful nightmare, fiercely fighting something.

Jim gingerly sat on the edge of the futon and caught the young man's flailing arms. "Harry! Wake up, Harry. You're dreaming."

Harry whimpered one last time. A name, "Tom," and stopped struggling. He was trembling violently all over, and Jim offered the only comfort he could. He gathered Harry into his arms and held him as the young man wept against his chest.

Presently, Harry lifted his head. What happened next Ellison was helpless to stop. Harry was kissing him, and he was kissing back, forcefully, passionately. Jim bore them both back to lie on the bed. He took Harry's face into his hands and licked the salty tears from it. The voice calling him, telling Jim that this was wrong, that this man was a suspect in his custody was drowned out by the rush of blood from his head to his groin as Harry moved his growing hardness against the detective's belly.

Any resolve left in Jim's mind fled immediately when Harry looked up at him so sweet and trustingly. Then Harry whispered, "Make love with me, Jim. Please."

Jim Ellison did just that. He made love with the young man who seemed to need it as much as he needed air to breathe. Ellison didn't try to deceive himself either. He knew he needed it at least that badly.

Jim let that part of himself that he had always suppressed out to do the things he had only dreamed of. The things that only one man can do to another man. Things that he had denied himself all of his life because it wasn't acceptable in his career. Neither the military nor the police department had room in the ranks for one attracted to his own sex.

His own natural aggressiveness was in full play. So, he was surprised when suddenly Harry took the lead by striping the boxer shorts he had worn to bed off. Harry had obviously changed his mind about wearing the scrubs as pajamas. The young man was using his hands and mouth to tease Ellison nearly into incoherence. Jim had never known that his chest and nipples, in particular, were so sensitive. Harry's mouth worked on his chest as his hands worked lower. Rolling his balls, using his fingertips to tease the tender skin behind his testicles with feather-like touches, Jim couldn't stop the moan that rose in his throat from deep in his soul.

Lovemaking with a man was a whole different dynamic. Ellison had always been the aggressor, the leader. He had worked to bring as much pleasure to his partner as he could before taking his own. Now, he was lying back being the one that was pleasured. It was a heady experience.

Harry's mouth and hands were everywhere. Touching, licking, teeth lightly nipping at his neck. It all felt so good that Jim barely noticed that the fingers that had been at his balls had slipped further between his legs. He just opened them wider as he had opened himself, willing to accept anything that Harry chose to give.

Jim started paying attention when the young man's mouth moved to his cock. Then one finger circled his anus. Harry's tongue licked up the length of his cock, and Jim couldn't help the pleading sound he made. He wasn't sure which he was pleading for, the mouth or the fingers, only wanting more. Harry obliged with both.

Suddenly the sensations stopped. Jim opened his eyes to see Harry looking around the room almost frantically. [What's he looking for?] Jim thought. Then it dawned on him. Lube. Jim spotted a jar of aloe vera cream on the table by the bed and reached out to nab it. The younger man took it from him and opened the jar.

Expecting slick fingers to return to his ass, Jim was surprised when Harry instead used the cream on Jim's own cock. The surprise was even greater when Harry rose to his knees and straddled his body. Harry dipped into the jar once again and anointed his asshole with a generous portion.

Harry moved his feet underneath himself to get the proper angle for penetration and eased down onto Jim's straining erection. To gain control of himself, Jim reached over his head and grasped the edge of the shelf above the bed. He had to keep from grabbing Harry's hips and pushing inside.

To keep his balance, the younger man gripped the bulging muscles of Jim's upper arms. He used his powerful legs to move. To fuck himself on Jim's cock. Jim thought the top of his head was going to blow right off. He gritted his teeth and tried his best to hang on and not cum too quickly. It was difficult. Oh god, it was difficult. It was the hottest thing Jim had ever experienced in his sexual life. Until Harry let go with one hand and brought it to his own hard, weeping cock.

They came within seconds of one another. Jim first from the double stimulation of Harry's tight, hot channel and watching him jack himself off. Then Harry erupted with a yell, spattering Jim's upper chest and chin with semen.

Without even the strength to think of cleaning up. Jim rolled the slumped body over and carefully pulled from his body. He held Harry tight, and they drifted off to sleep without a word.

Continued in part 2Lost, part 2

See part 1 for disclaimer and explanations.

Millions of miles and hundreds of years away, a very agitated Tom Paris paced the shuttlebay. He was impatiently waiting for the engineering team to finish the modifications on the shuttle. Modifications that would hopefully allow him safe passage through the spatial rift that had swallowed the shuttle that his best friend, Harry Kim, had been aboard.

Kim had taken the shuttle out to get closer scans of the anomaly, and now he and the shuttle were missing. It had taken all of Tom's hard won control not to castigate the captain for her decision to send Harry out alone. Tom suppressed the impulse to chase the engineers out of the shuttle and just take off. He wanted to scream, to rail, to do anything but wait.

Tom felt a hand on his shoulder as he was turning to pace the other direction. It was Chakotay. "Tom, come along with me," the Commander requested. "You need to take a break and get something to eat."

"Oh, no thanks, Commander. I'm not hungry."

"Lieutenant, we are going to the mess hall, don't make me make it an order."

Tom shrugged and followed Chakotay into the turbolift. As they started moving, Tom looked at his superior and asked, "So, Commander, what's this all about? And please don't tell me it's about me missing a meal."

Chakotay sighed, "Well, I tried for subtle. B'Elanna called up to the bridge. It seems your presence in the shuttlebay is hindering her crew's efforts."

Tom had the good grace to look abashed. The lift stopped, and they went into the mostly deserted mess hall. The men filled their plates and took seats across from one another. Chakotay let Tom eat for a few minutes before trying to get to the bottom of his almost manic behavior. The lieutenant had been almost out of control since Harry disappeared.

In his best counselor's voice, Chakotay asked, "You want to talk about it? I think it may help."

Tom sighed. "I guess until I do, you're not going to let me go after him, are you?"

Chakotay smiled. Not much got past Tom Paris, but the same could be said for himself too. "Tom, I went to bat for you against the captain and Tuvok. They were dead set against sending anyone else through that anomaly. I got them to listen to your idea. I think I deserve to hear you say it."

"Say what?" Tom tried to evade, but Chakotay wasn't buying it. "Okay, you want to hear me admit it? I will. I'm in love with the guy."

"Does Harry know?"

Tom shook his head. "No, I never told him. The time was never right, and now. Now it may be too late. I have to try to find him, Commander," Tom desperately pleaded.

"Whoa, whoa Tom. You've already convinced me, remember?"

Sheepishly, Tom replied, "Oh yeah. Thanks for standing up for me."

"We all want Harry back. Just remember, we want you both back in one piece, okay? Be careful."

"I will."

The men stood up, cleared their table and headed back to the shuttlebay. Tom was a lot calmer than he had been after his talk with Chakotay. He allowed the engineers to finish their job without further interruption.

Tom got busy with the computer and determined just where in time he had ended up. He made a quick retreat to the far side of the moon to do further scans. Tapping into the computer network of the era was a breeze. Shit, late twentieth century again, and only a couple of years beyond the last time they went back in time. There was no mention of a Harry Kim being in custody or hospitalized.

He concentrated his efforts on having the computer search records from the area close to the shuttle crash. Tom leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a few minutes. He tried not to think of what he'd do if he found out that Harry was dead. There was no time for that now.

The computer beeped at him, and Tom brought himself upright again. [Hmmm... yes, this guy certainly met Harry's description. Uh oh, amnesia... Damn!] There it was on the screen. Pictures of a standard Starfleet combadge, tricorder and phaser. [What the hell had Harry been thinking by taking that stuff off the shuttle? Oh yeah, amnesia, Tommy.]

Well, that certainly complicated things for Tom. Now he had to think of a plan not only to retrieve Harry, but also the equipment that had ended up in the Cascade Police Department's possession. A few more minutes of reading, and Tom also found that Harry was in protective custody, whatever that meant. More research was in order. After a couple of hours replicator and computer work, he was ready.

It was a good plan, Tom thought as he surveyed himself in the small mirror of the shuttle's fresher. He had everything in place. Go in, claim federal jurisdiction in the matter, get the equipment, get Harry and go home. Easy.

The black suit and white shirt weren't bad, but Tom didn't care for the length of silk tied around his neck. It was much too noose-like for his sensibilities, but it was what the well dressed FBI agent had to wear.

The badge had been easy to replicate. The paper, jeez he couldn't believe he had actually had to make paper, was more difficult. An inefficient way to work, he thought. Tom stepped from the fresher and set the transporter to put him down in a deserted area of the parking garage of the Cascade Police Department Central Precinct.

Tom did everything by the book. First to the main desk on the first floor where he showed his computer generated credentials. Then he was escorted up to Captain Bank's office on the sixth floor.

The answering machine picked up the call, and Jim heard Simon's voice. "Jim, I need you and the John Doe down at the station, ASAP. There's a federal agent here. He's asking to see our boy."

Jim scrambled out of the bed and grabbed the receiver. "I'm here, Simon. We'll be there as soon as we can."

"Try to make it quick. This guy's real antsy."

"Okay. Bye." Jim hung up the phone and sat down on the arm of the couch. [Oh shit, what have I done? That was real smart, Ellison. Unprotected sex with a suspect. That ought to win me some awards.]

Then Harry came out of the bedroom, all sleepy-eyed and tousled. The way Jim's body reacted to the sight was justification for his actions, in his opinion anyway. Harry smiled and asked, "What's going on?"

Jim had to look away to keep from pouncing on the man. "It was Captain Banks. We need to hurry up and get down to the station. The Feds are involved now, and one is waiting to see you," Jim answered.

"The Feds?"

"Federal agent. It looks like thing just got a whole lot more complicated. If they weren't already."

Harry was silent for a minute. "I guess what happened last night, us. That really complicates things, huh?" Jim nodded, and Harry continued, "I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. I could blame it on my amnesia or something else, but I can't. I wanted it, wanted you."

Jim stood up and went over to Harry. He reached out and ran his fingers along the young man's jaw. "No, it wasn't your fault. It was me. I, I..." Jim trailed off. What the hell were they doing? Why were they apologizing to one another? He held out his hand, "Come on, let's take a shower and get down to the station before Simon calls again."

What was supposed to be a quick shower turned into a little more than either man expected. Neither could keep his hands to himself. Jim's hands had a sensory field day as they worked lather into Harry's hair. Both sets. Of course while working on the lower hair, Jim couldn't help but to touch the flesh that had come alive under his ministrations.

Harry reciprocated. Soon the two men were moving together in an age-old dance. Bodies slick with the water that rained down on them. Hands slick with soap pumping hard, straining cocks, the air thick with steam and the muffled groans of passion. Muffled, due to mouths that worked one on the other, until they were wrenched away for the final the sharp cries that signaled culmination.

Slumping against the wall on weakened legs, they let the water wash the thick creamy juices from their bodies. They left the shower. As Harry toweled his thick, black hair, Jim felt a stab of guilt for the emotions this young man brought out in him.

Those feelings came again minutes later as Harry came out of Blair's room dressed in the clothes that Jim had lent him. The denim fit like a glove, molding Harry's muscular ass perfectly. The cream-colored shirt accentuated the golden tone of his skin and the rich brown eyes. Jim had to turn away to keep from taking the young man back into the bedroom.

In a voice that shook slightly he asked, "You ready?"

"Not really, but I guess we'd better go anyway," Harry answered with resignation.

After a quick run through the drive-thru at McDonald's, Jim and Harry arrived at the station. Jim left Harry in the interrogation room while he went to the captain's office. Jim tapped on the door.

"About time," Simon Banks said as Jim entered. Jim eyed the tall blond wondering just what the Fed's interest was in Harry. Simon made the introductions, "Agent Paris, Detective Jim Ellison. He's been keeping an eye on our mystery man."

Jim put out his hand, but the Tom never noticed. Abruptly, he asked, "Where's Harry?" as he tried to see past Jim into the bullpen.

"Harry's just fine for the moment," Jim assured the man. He looked over at Simon and got a shrug and the word "antsy" mouthed at him. Jim noticed the things on the captain's desk. All the equipment that they had found on Harry when he was picked up. Was Simon crazy?

Simon read Jim's expression and immediately let Jim know that it was all right. "Agent Paris has orders, Jim, to take custody of Mr. Kim. That's his name, by the way, Harry Kim. And this equipment. He has jurisdiction."

That didn't settle well with the detective at all. This wasn't the first time that Feds had come in and whisked a case of his away. He looked hard at Paris and barked at him, "You know Harry? Personally?"

Simon moved between the two men as unobtrusively as possible. Jim had taken this case to heart. Of course, the captain didn't know that literally it was true, but he had never seen Jim act this protectively of a suspect. In fact, the only person Simon had seen Jim protect in such a way was Sandburg. He certainly wished the man was there now. He'd know just what to do to dispel the air of hostility in the room.

He needn't have worried. Paris spoke up, and the concern in his voice allied both the other men's fears. "Yes, I know Harry. We've been worried sick about him. Please can I see him now?"

Jim put a hand on Paris' shoulder and answered, "Sure he's just down the hall. Simon?"

Tom picked up the briefcase he had brought with him and looked to Banks in anticipation. He nodded and said, "You two go ahead. I'll get the paperwork started for the transfer of custody and join you in a bit."

The smile Jim got when he opened the door of the interrogation room was rife with relief. Though, short-lived when Harry saw that Jim had someone with him. Tom almost pushed Jim out of the way to get into the room. He rushed over to the table that where Harry was sitting but stopped short when he saw the look of fear and confusion on his friend's face. "Harry, are you all right?"

"No, I'm not all right. Do I know you?" Harry questioned back with hostility.

"Oh Harry. You'll be fine. Once we get back to Voyager the Doc will fix you up, and you'll be just fine," Tom said in an effort to reassure his friend.

"Voyager?" Jim interjected as he moved closer from where he had been leaning against the door.

"Sorry Detective, that's classified. National Security, you understand don't you?" Tom said quickly to cover his mistake.

Jim ignored the comment and looked to Harry. "You're not getting anything back yet? You don't remember this guy or any Voyager Project?"

Harry just shook his head "no". To Tom, Jim continued, "Just where is this Voyager Project? I don't think Harry's up to any long trips right now. Paris, I'm not stupid, I'm a detective. If Harry's working on some secret government project and you know him, it's not likely that you're really FBI. Who are you really? CIA, NSA?" Jim asked as he moved nearer and nearer in a menacing fashion.

Before Tom could think of a sufficient lie, one of the other policemen came to the door and requested Jim's presence back in Captain Banks' office. Jim didn't like leaving Paris alone with Harry, but reluctantly did so. Hopefully, it would only be a minute. Just in case, he decided to dial up his hearing to monitor the room.

As soon as the door shut behind Ellison, Tom set the briefcase on the table and popped it open. He retrieve the medkit from inside and got out the medical tricorder. Harry moved back in suspicion. "It's okay. This won't hurt you. I promise. I'm just going to scan you and see if there's something I can give you for your head. Wow! That's some goose egg you got there. No wonder your memory took a holiday." Tom smiled at Harry as he carefully felt the big bump on the back of his head.

Tom reached back in the medkit to get a hypospray. He had the instrument at Harry's neck when Jim burst back into the room."What the hell?! What did you give him?" Jim was across the room in two strides wresting the hypospray from Tom's hand.

The big detective had Paris pinned against the wall and his hands at his throat when he felt the tugging at his shoulder. It was Harry. He was saying, "Stop it, Jim. I'm okay. Stop it!"

Jim let his arms drop, and Tom eased away from the wall and away from Ellison. Harry was pulling the man around to face him. What was this? Harry was stroking the other man's cheek and talking to him lowly as Tom looked on in disbelief. He was saying, "It's okay. Tom wouldn't hurt me."

"Harry?" Tom queried as he finally got his breath back.

The younger man turned to look at his friend and answered, "Yes, Tom, I'm back now. Thanks."

Captain Banks entered the room and announced. "Mr. Paris, I have papers for you to sign."

They left, and Jim was glad to have one last chance to talk to Harry alone. "You really have your memory back?" he asked, dialing up his hearing again to listen for Harry's heartbeat and respiration. At the younger man's nod, he needed to know, "Are you sure you want to go with him? I remember that nightmare you had. You were really fighting with this Tom."

"No, Jim, fighting for Tom. I was fighting for Tom, and yes, I want to go with him. I have to go back."

"Where, Harry? Where are you going?"

Harry snorted and answered, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. And I can't. That would really screw things up."

"I don't think I really want to know either. Harry, whatever it was that this Paris guy gave you, I've never seen anything work that quickly. I know we haven't got medicine that works that fast, not yet."

Scared that Jim had figured it out, Harry held up a hand to forestall anymore questions. "Let's just say that we're not from around here and leave it at that."

Knowing that any minute Tom would be coming for him, Harry stepped closer to Jim and opened his arms for a hug. He got his hug and a lingering kiss before they pulled away from one another to say their last good-byes. Harry thanked Jim for everything and was winking at him to break the solemnity of the moment when Tom reappeared. Jim shook Tom's hand when it was offered this time and cautioned him to take better care of Harry.

The three walked to the elevators. Tom and Harry entered the compartment, but by the time it reach the parking garage they had called for transport and disappeared. Jim was turning away to go back to his desk when the second elevator deposited an escorting uniformed cop and two people to the sixth floor. Sergeant Phillips called out to him, "Detective Ellison, could you take these two to Captain Banks? Can you believe it? More FBI, Agents Mulder and Scully came about the John Doe too."

[Oh, shit!]

Continued in part 3Lost, part 3

See Part 1 for disclaimer and explanations

As soon as Tom and Harry materialized on the shuttle, Tom strapped Harry into a seat, telling him that it just wouldn't do to have him get injured again on the trip back to the ship. Bringing them close to Earth one last time, he disintegrated Harry's wrecked shuttle.

"Hold on, Harry. This is the rough part," Tom said as he set course for the anomaly.

"Don't I know it. At least you don't have to face the captain with another wrecked shuttle on your record."

Tom didn't answer as he strapped himself in. They were going into the anomaly.

After a short, wild ride they came through the anomaly with Chakotay hailing them. "Paris here. Mission accomplished, Commander, but please inform the captain that regretfully, I had to destroy the other shuttle. It was too badly damaged." Tom flashed Harry a smile, knowing that he just took some of the heat off his friend by making himself responsible for the shuttle's fate. The captain tended to rant at lost shuttles.

Harry smiled back in acknowledgement. The moment was broken when the com demanded their attention again. Chakotay was asking about Harry. "I'm fine, Commander."

"I'll be taking Harry straight to sickbay when we get in. Then I'll make my report."

Back on Voyager, Chakotay almost laughed at the two. It certainly sounded as if they were fine. He stifled his mirth and ended the transmission with, "That will be fine, lieutenant. Report to me as soon as you're finished in sickbay. Voyager out."

Tom left his friend in sickbay and went to the bridge. He gave Chakotay his report and was released from duty.

Tom got back to Sickbay just as the Doctor was finishing up with Harry. He even got a compliment from the Doctor on his quick use and correct diagnosis of what medication to give. The Doc spoiled it all by saying he would talk to the captain about getting Tom to spend more time training as a medic.

Tom pushed aside his annoyance and went over to talk to Harry. "How about getting something to eat?"

"Sure!" Harry answered, "The last meal I had was four hundred years ago. I'm starved. Got any rations?"

More than anything hearing Harry joke made Tom believe his friend was alright. Harry had been so serious even after his memory had come back. Tom smiled. "Do I have rations? Harry, my boy, I always have rations. Let's go."

Later, after a leisurely meal in Tom's quarters, Tom sat down beside Harry on the couch. It was time to ask about what his curiosity had been burning to find out. "Harry? Uhhh...I want to ask you something, but I'm not sure how."

Harry just looked at him strangely, "Go ahead, Tom. You can ask me anything. You know that."

"It's about Ellison. Did you and he...I mean...," Tom stammered.

"Oh!" Harry blushed as he realized what Tom was trying to ask him.

"It's just that he seemed awfully protective of you, and when I came back into the room from signing those papers. Harry, your face was all flushed, and your lips were swollen."

Harry had been hoping that Tom hadn't noticed in the rush to leave. Since his memory had returned, he felt that he'd somehow betrayed Tom with that last kiss, but that was crazy, wasn't it?

In exasperation, Harry blurted out, "What does it matter now, Tom? Jim Ellison is four hundred years in the past. What does it matter that we had sex? Yes, so he kissed me goodbye, what's the big deal about that?"

With Harry's confession, Tom let the jealousy he had been feeling burn over. "What's the big deal? I tell you what the big deal is! I want to be the one makes your face flush! I want to be the one kissing you! I want to be..." Tom ran down and in a quieter voice said, "I'm sorry I yelled, Harry, but I want you. I love you, Harry." Harry stared at him for a minute, taking in this new revelation. "You love me?"

"Yes, Harry. That's why I fought so hard to get permission to go after you, and I got it with Chakotay's help."

"I don't want to talk about that right now." Harry moved closer and lowered his voice. Almost seductively, he said, "I want to talk about us."

"Us?" Tom gulped.

"You said you wanted me. I heard that right, didn't I?"

Tom turned a little so he that could look directly into Harry's eyes. "You're not mad at me?" Tom asked tentatively.

"Tom, do I look mad?" Tom shook his head 'no'. "Then why don't you show me that you meant it?"

"Harry, these clothes are too tight. What do you say to losing them?"

"Sure, as long as I can find them again. I already lost one uniform. I can't afford to replicate two."

Offering his hand to Harry, Tom lead him into the sleeping area. They quickly undressed. Tom took Harry's uniform and put it where he could easily find it again. He turned back almost shyly and took his best friend into his arms. "Let me show you now, Harry," he whispered into Harry's ear as flicked the lobe.

Harry moaned in agreement and the sensation of Tom's tongue on his ear, his neck, and finally his mouth again. Tom maneuvered them over to the bed and laid Harry on it. With a promptness that belied his earlier bit of shyness, Tom crawled into the bed and on top of Harry.

Tom had a powerful need to feel Harry. To feel him skin to skin as close as he could get and assure himself that Harry was really here. Kisses lead to more kisses. Slow movements demanded harder friction. Tom adjusted his now throbbing cock to lie along side Harry's. They moved together rocking, feeling the slide of flesh against flesh.

It was over far too soon. Harry's hands clutched at Tom's backside as he went over the edge. Tom followed just seconds later, moaning Harry's name over and over. It was enough for now. Later, later they would join bodies and take one another. Tom was sure of it when he raised his head to look into his lover's eyes. He could see the love shining out of them. It was more than enough for him.

Blair Sandburg let himself into the apartment trying to be as quiet as possible not wanting to wake Jim. So far, so good. Blair made it to his room with no sound from above. He flicked on the overhead light. [What the hell! Someone's been sleeping in my bed.] Then he almost laughed out loud at his three bears' reaction. Blair knew he had made the bed before he left.

Dropping his duffel by the door, he stepped closer to the futon. There was a hair on the pillow. A black hair, three to four inches long and definitely not his or Jim's. Blair picked the hair from his pillow to deposit it in the wastebasket, and he saw the stains on his sheets. There was only one thing left to dry on sheets that looked like that. [I thought there was a rule here. No sex in the apartment.]

Blair sat down on the edge of the bed and looked closely again at the dried semen. Two distinct sets of it. Way too much for just one person to make. Two people, no scratch that, two men had had sex in his bed. There was no way one of them wasn't Jim. Blair looked around his room again. The small shelf above the bed was almost pulled off the wall, there was a set of surgical scrubs over the back of the chair and one last piece of damning evidence peeking out from under the edge of his bed. Blair bent and picked up a pair of Jim's boxer shorts.

Blair sat there shaking his bent head. He couldn't fucking believe it. Jim Ellison, Mr. Straight, had sex with another man in his bed. After watching the older man ignore his signals for months, Blair was getting angry. He had done everything he could think of without blatantly crawling in bed with the man to let him know that he wanted to take their friendship a step further. But no, Jim had resisted. So Blair hadn't pushed, and now someone else had gotten past that barrier.

Was this guy with Jim right now? Was he upstairs sleeping with him? The hurt and anger made Blair move without thinking. With the shorts still clutched in his hand, he flung the bedroom door open and marched up the stairs to confront them.

Blair was surprised to see only one shape in Jim's big bed, but in the dim light he couldn't be sure. He reached over and turned on the light. "Ellison, wake up, damn you!"

"Harry?" Jim asked hoarsely, blinking his eyes open at the bright light.

"Is that his name?"

"Sandburg, what the hell are you doing? It's the middle of the night..." Jim trailed off his tirade as his eyes focused, and he took in the fact that his partner was standing by his bed looking angrier than he had ever seen him.

"Why Jim? Why him and not me?"

Shit, it was his shorts in Blair's hand. Double shit, he had left Blair's room in a mess. With all that had happened, it had slipped his mind to change and remake the bed. "Oh God, oh God Chief, I'm sorry. He needed me."

"Well, where is he now? If he needed you so damn bad, why isn't he here?"

Jim rolled away from the hurt and confusion in Blair's eyes. He managed to croak past his own remorse, "Home. Harry went home where he belongs."

All the fight went out of Blair when he heard the pain in Jim's voice. He dropped the shorts and climbed onto the bed and over to his friend. His own hurt forgotten in his need to comfort Jim. Blair knelt next to Jim and touched his shoulder. "I need you."

Jim snorted in disbelief, "You've never needed anyone. You've never needed me as much as I need you."

Blair put his fingers over Jim's mouth to silence him. "You just don't get it, do you?"

"What?"

Blair leaned over and pressed his lips to Jim's gently then pulled back. "I love you, big guy. I couldn't stay here if I didn't. Even when you wouldn't let me in. Wouldn't let me be your lover. I still loved you. I knew you were afraid of the whole gay thing. So I waited." Blair paused and took a deep breath. "How'd he do it?"

Jim looked at him in confusion. Surely Blair wasn't asking what he appeared to be asking. "Do what?" He had to know.

"Not that." Blair had the good grace to blush a bit at the notion that Jim thought he wanted the details on what kind of sex that he and this Harry person had engaged in. "I meant, how did he get you to unbend enough to even consider having sex?"

"Jeez, you come up with the impossible questions. I don't know, Chief. It just happened. He was lost and scared and so alone. It just happened." Jim shook his head unable to articulate the feelings that led to what he had done. He thought a moment and continued, "I think that I've been in denial for so long about who I am and what I want that it all hit me at once."

"And this Harry, he was lucky enough to be here when it did?" Blair asked. He was a little shocked that Jim was admitting these things. To him. Out loud. But not shocked enough not to take advantage of it. "How about you letting me get lucky?" Sandburg leaned it and kissed his Sentinel on the lips.

Jim didn't push him away or react at first. Then Jim's mouth opened, and his tongue came out beg entrance to Blair's mouth. It was like a light had been switched on. He pulled at Blair's clothes almost ripping them to get to bare skin. Blair would have been frightened if he hadn't known his Sentinel so well. This single-mindedness was classic Jim Ellison; the way he went at almost everything in life. Blair was glad to be on the receiving end of it at last and decided to lay back and enjoy the ride.

Enjoy was not the proper term for what he was feeling. Blair tried thinking of superlatives as Jim worked his hands and mouth on his body. He tried thinking of anything at all to keep grounded. Oh god! Jim was sniffing at him now. He had his nose buried in Blair's hair at first, then moving downward. Smelling and tasting as he went. It was so primal. Jim was making guttural noises of approval. Not using actual words at all.

Blair could only lie there. Every time he moved to try and touch Jim, he got a growl of disapproval. He made noises of his own. Deep groans when Jim's lips fastened to his nipples. Whimpers of need as he got closer and closer to Blair's cock. Blair damn near screamed when after thorough smell of his pubic area, Jim slid his mouth over the wet end of his cock. The automatic bucking of his hips was met with another growl that sent vibrations through his cock and into his soul.

Blair was headed for one of the most explosive orgasms of his life when Jim pulled back and said the first intelligible words he had uttered since he had gotten Blair naked, "Fuck me. I need to feel you inside me."

Another surprise in a night of surprises, Blair could only nod in agreement. Jim lay down on his stomach, and Blair only got a glimpse of a large angry-looking erection. Then good sense took over. They needed things, lubricant, a condom. Blair loathed to think of leaving the bed to go find them when Jim's voice, hoarse with need, ground out, "In the nightstand."

Blair opened the drawer and found what he needed. The tube was brand-new, never opened. His fingers fumbled with the cap. He felt all thumbs, but managed somehow. Blair brought his fingers up to Jim's opening. He concentrated on the outside first before slipping the tip of his index finger inside. It was tight, but not impossibly so. Did he? Blair wondered.

He must have spoken out loud because Jim answered his question. "No, Harry didn't. You'll be the first. Hurry, Chief. I need you."

Blair was feeling an urgency himself, but he forced himself to go slow. He didn't want there to be any pain involved. Blair used his fingers to stretch the muscle until Jim was rocking back into the strokes, using his body to beg for what he wanted.

Blair backed his fingers from Jim's ass and rolled the condom on. He found the lube again and greased his cock. He eased inside, just the head at first. Then Jim made another one of his animal-like growls and pushed back forcefully. It was a wild, hard mating. Groans, growls and the smack of thighs and belly into hard muscle punctuated the night.

It was a mating in Blair's mind. There was love there, but not the sweet, gentle emotion. This was primitive. The claiming of one's true mate. Blair found himself echoing the sounds that Jim was making until the primal scream he made when he came.

Still energized, he moved out of Jim's body and rolled him over to pounce on the hardness he knew was waiting. There was no teasing. Blair swallowed as much of Jim's big cock as he could fit in his mouth and sucked passionately. He allowed Jim to fuck his mouth until at last he grabbed Blair's head and thrust in deep enough to gag the unprepared. Blair had been prepared for just this moment, and rode out Jim's climax taking all that his Sentinel could give him.

Raising up to share the bounty, Blair kissed the limp, panting man. Jim took the semen back from Blair's mouth with no protest, even taking time to lick a strand that he'd lost off Blair's chin. He pulled his Guide close and in a voice that was a purr now, he said, "Mine."

Blair nuzzled in closer and with a sigh agreed, "All mine."

The End