A/N: This story makes some references to an earlier story of mine, Further Up and Further In, which details why Tom and B'Elanna left Starfleet three years after getting back to the Alpha Quadrant. Reading that story is not necessary to understand or enjoy this one, but if you're curious about what happened, that's where to find it! Please see acknowledgements in the author's note of the first story in the series, Fresh Start.

Harry had thought this weekend was going to be relaxing. Dinner with his two closest friends and their kids, then an early start the next day for a camping trip with Tom and Miral in Alaska. It was supposed to be both a physical and mental getaway - a little head-clearing space to confirm, he hoped, that he was doing the right thing. Instead, he'd walked into a warzone.

"What did you do with Joe?" eleven-year-old Miral demanded from her perch on the highest level of the wooden play structure.

"I ate him!" Tom hollered back at his daughter. "I'm a demon! I eat children and I hadn't had my supper yet!" The recently ingested child in question was giggling into folded hands from his spot tucked under his father's arm.

After getting no answer at the front door, Harry had followed the sounds of laughter and screaming to the backyard of the Torres-Paris home. He'd no sooner passed through the gate before he was instructed via frantic whispers and gestures to take cover. He ducked behind the upturned picnic table where Tom and his five-year old son were already hiding. A foam dart flew just over his head.

"If you're going to hide with that coward, Uncle Harry," Miral shouted, "then you better understand I show no mercy! No mercy!"

"What is going on?" Harry asked his friend. He didn't remember his childhood games ever being quite this cutthroat. Then again, he'd never had two quarter-Klingon playmates.

"Battle to the death, Har," Tom panted, clutching a garishly colored gun to his chest. "It was the kids against me, but I won Joe over with the promise that I'd let him use the Doom Cannon." He crouched down to whisper into his son's ear. "OK, Jojo, it's time. You remember where it is?"

The little boy nodded, his eyes wide and serious.

"I'll cover you." Tom grabbed the back of Joe's shirt and pushed him out from behind the picnic table. Joe sprinted across the grass as Tom rose from behind the picnic table, firing his gun towards the swingset that dominated the northwest corner of the yard. "Got ya!" he cried as a dart hit his daughter square in the chest.

The victory was short lived, however. As Tom raised his arms in triumph, he was pelted with a flurry of darts from what Harry could only assume was the famed Doom Cannon. "I got you, Daddy!" Joe yelled from his position next to the shed. "I'm a double crosser!"

Tom cried out in mock agony as he pinwheeled his arms and fell towards the ground. "Oh, the shame!" As he lay on his back in the grass behind the table, he looked up at his friend. "So, how's it going, Har?"

"Not too bad." Harry offered his friend a hand to help him rise. Together they surveyed the yard, which was littered with dozens of neon blue and purple darts. Both kids were now sing-screaming some sort of victory song, and Miral was dancing on the top rail of the swing set. "I see you've been working hard," Harry remarked.

Tom's face was stern. "Miral! Get down from there! It's not the holodeck — you could fall and hurt yourself!" He turned to grin at Harry. "These two are slave drivers, for sure."

The gate to the yard creaked open again and they heard B'Elanna's voice call out. "What are you guys up to? Is Harry here yet?"

A mass of brown fur barreled into the yard and Tom's eyes widened in panic. "No, B'Elanna! There are darts everywhere!"

B'Elanna's "Oh, shit." blended in with the frantic cries of the children. Within seconds, three-quarters of the family were running around the yard, picking up darts, while Tom chased after a dog that probably weighed nearly as much as B'Elanna. Harry just watched, bemused by the frenzy, until Tom finally tackled the animal and the two lay tangled together in the grass, the dog still struggling to break free.

"What's this all about?" he asked, walking towards his grass-stained friend. He wasn't sure if Tom or the dog was panting more.

"Falstaff likes to eat the darts," Tom gasped. "Help pick them up, would ya? I won't be able to hold him for long. He's nearly fifty kilos."

The darts were safely stowed, a trip to the vet was averted, and it was time to start making dinner. The kids and Falstaff were still in the yard, engaged in a game that involved a lot of yelling and barking, and Tom was chopping vegetables to go with the pasta. B'Elanna handed Harry a glass of wine and sat across from him at the wood-planked kitchen table. "So how are you, Starfleet? Still liking my old department on Mars? Tom and I have been making bets on how much longer you'll be able to stand being planetside."

"I love it!" Harry blurted out. He took a calming sip from his glass when he saw the look B'Elanna was giving him. "No really, it's great. The work is good, I've got a great team, although it would be better if you were on it." For almost a year now, he'd been stationed at Utopia Planitia, running the tactical division of the R and D department. Everyone said it was the perfect job for him. And it was – the science was challenging, and he liked having a leadership role. His parents in particular were happy – they finally had him within shuttle distance of their home in North Carolina after his years on Voyager and a series of off-world assignments. He'd even met someone.

"You and Teru still going strong?" Tom asked as he minced the garlic. At Harry's nod, he gave his friend a smirk. "I'm impressed, Har. What's it been? Seven, eight months now? This might be the best relationship you've had since Libby. She's not a hologram, or dead, or a recently liberated drone. You're not lusting after her twin sister. At least not that you've told me."

"Shut up, Paris." But Harry couldn't stop himself from chuckling. Certainly one of his favorite things about being back in the Sol system was being a regular part of his friends' lives again. For nearly a decade after Voyager's return, their relationship had been reduced to nothing but letters and the occasional in-person meetup when they all happened to be in the same sector.

Back when they'd first gotten home, Harry had entertained the idea that the three of them – him, Tom, and B'Elanna – would remain thick as thieves, maybe even trade in on their Delta Quadrant celebrity status to get a posting together. But both Tom and B'Elanna wanted something planetside. They'd said Miral needed a house and a yard, parents that were able to come home every night. And after Tom had been captured and nearly killed by anti-Federation terrorists when Miral was three, both had resigned their commissions.

"This is crazy talk!" Harry had said when they'd broken the news. "Think of what you're giving up!"

"Nothing that important to us, Harry," B'Elanna had told him through the comm monitor, while a strangely quiet Tom had done nothing but shrug in agreement. "Starfleet isn't everything, you know."

Harry had let it go at the time but privately disagreed. He'd been convinced for years that his friends' talents were going to waste. But since Harry had been at UP and started spending more time with them again, he couldn't argue with what he saw — Voyager-era B'Elanna had never laughed and smiled as much as she did now, Tom no longer hid himself away in a holodeck for hours. They both doted on their two kids. And it had felt nice, when Miral had wrapped her arms around her Uncle Harry and Joe had shyly presented him with a picture he'd drawn in school. It's not like the dog's mandatory, he thought, brushing a clump of brown fur off his pant leg.

It seemed like a compromise that had worked for his friends — that scaling back on their professional ambitions in favor of making a home for themselves and the kids was the right call. And if it worked for Tom and B'Elanna, then it could work for Harry Kim. Maybe B'Elanna was right. Maybe Starfleet wasn't everything.

/=\

"Come on, Harry!" Tom called from downstairs. "Alaska and Miral wait for no one!"

"Yeah, Uncle Harry! Come on!"

"Two minutes!" Harry yelled before turning back to his comm device and the dark-haired woman that filled its viewer. "Sorry about that. I really should go, though."

Teru smiled back at him. "I know, Harry. It's fine. But before you go, tell me quick: how did Admiral Janeway take the news? Was she very upset? I know you've been worried."

Harry grimaced and his gaze shifted from the monitor. "Um… I haven't actually told her yet."

"What?" Teru's amber eyes widened. "But Harry. The mission leaves in a month, doesn't it? They'll have to find a new first officer, and I can't imagine that's easy to do. You need to tell her."

"I realize that," he said, biting back a flash of irritation. Now was not the time to start a fight — they really needed to get on the road. "But I know the Admiral's going to be disappointed and I just… didn't want to start the weekend that way. I'll tell her on Monday."

Last week, Janeway had shown up in his office on Mars for a surprise visit. Over lunch she shared her news: the 'Fleet had been impressed with the work he'd been doing on UP and had a position they thought he'd be perfect for — the first officer of a deep space exploration vessel. It would be the first ship to use the new transwarp drive, tracing some of Voyager's path through the Delta Quadrant. The job also came with a promotion to full commander. The moment the Admiral had given him the details, he'd felt a spark of excitement that even his best days at UP didn't give him.

But Harry wasn't going to take it.

The mission came with a five-year itinerary. And even though it was a peaceful mission, and it was a family ship, and the first officer could certainly count a long term partner as 'family' — Teru wasn't interested in coming along.

"Harry," she'd said to him when he finished telling her about the offered promotion. The second his name left her lips he'd known he wasn't going to like what she had to say. "I'm very happy for you, but I'm sorry. I'm never going to live aboard a starship again. I've made that clear from the beginning."

And she had, to be fair. On their very first date — coffee and dessert at Mars' most popular café — she'd told him that she'd lived in space with her uncle for several months as a teenager, and she'd hated every second of it. "I generally stay very far away from Starfleet officers," she'd told him in her lilting Eritrean accent, a sly smile lighting up her golden brown features. "I've only made an exception for you because you are very cute."

Harry had just hoped that seven months in —with their shared love of music, the great sex, having their families meet, and had he mentioned the great sex? — that the pull of their relationship would be stronger than any aversion to living in space. How could she give up everything they had with each other just to stay planetside?

Without much more than a second thought, apparently. It was one of the things that had drawn him to Teru in the first place — her self-assuredness, her absolute confidence in her decisions and opinions. He'd just always had it work in his favor before.

So Harry wasn't going to go back to the Delta Quadrant. He couldn't give Teru up — the first person he'd seen a future with in years. Plus it would break his parents' hearts to have him leave the system again, off in space for five years or more. And Tom and B'Elanna were here — it had been great to see them so regularly, to feel like a part of their lives again after over nine years apart.

"Harry?" Teru said from the comm, and her eyes were worried. "You aren't having second thoughts, are you? About us? Is that why you haven't told the Admiral yet?"

"No!" Harry rushed to reassure her. "Teru, I love you and I am totally committed to our relationship. Tom knows Janeway as well as anybody — I just thought I'd get some advice on how to tell her. That's all. I promise."

Teru's smile was back. Harry loved that he was the one that had put it there. "I love you, too, Harry. I'm so glad you're staying, and I plan on showing you exactly how glad — the moment you're back on Mars. Give my love to Tom and B'Elanna and their family."

They said their good-byes and Harry stared at the now-dark screen in his hand. This was the right decision, he was sure of it. He had a great job at UP, and he and Teru would have a great life together.

"Uncle Harry! Will you get a move on?!" Miral was standing in the doorway to the guest room, hands on her hips and looking so much like an irritated B'Elanna in miniature, Harry almost laughed. When he and Teru had babies, would they have their mother's musical laugh? Would they have Harry's straight hair, or Teru's soft brown skin?

"Sorry, Miri," he said with a smile. "I'm coming." Yes, this weekend was exactly what he needed — some real fresh air, time with his best friend and his daughter. It would be like a glimpse into his own future — the one he was going to make with Teru. He shouldered his backpack and followed Miral out the door.

/=\

"Why can't we take the car?" Miral whined. "Please, Daddy? We can put the top down!"

"Miral," Tom said, his tone short. "For the last time, we're not taking the car. It would take us the entire three days just to get there. And that's if we don't stop to sleep. Or pee. Get in the cab!" He turned to Harry, his face relaxing into a smile. "Go ahead and get in the back, Har. I'm just going to give Joe one last hug and I'll jump in up front."

Harry eyed the backseat where both Miral and Falstaff were ensconced. "The dog's coming?"

"Of course the dog's coming," Tom said. "Taking them hiking is pretty much the whole point of dogs."

Harry got in the hover cab and tried to ignore the pungent breath Falstaff was infusing into the cramped space. He watched as Tom knelt down to hug and comfort a tearful Joe, then stood and gave B'Elanna a rather chaste peck on the mouth. Now that Harry thought about it, that was the most physical affection he'd seen between the two of them since he'd arrived. They'd barely touched each other at dinner, and B'Elanna had gone to bed hours before Tom had last night.

It was unsettling. His two best friends, the people who once couldn't keep their hands off each other, were now saying goodbye like they were distant relatives? Had something gone wrong between them? Harry began to worry his lower lip. Maybe that's why B'Elanna wasn't coming this weekend. Harry had suggested they all go when he'd first brought up the idea of camping in Alaska to Tom; even at that first conversation, Tom had claimed B'Elanna wouldn't want to join them.

But it was hard to chat while an overgrown chocolate labrador was trying to wash your face, so Harry didn't get to start his interrogation until they got to the shuttle hangar. When Miral insisted on dragging her father's backpack to the cargo hold by herself, Harry pulled Tom aside. "I want to talk to you for a minute. Everything's OK with you and B'Elanna, right?"

Tom tilted his head to the side and frowned. "Yeah. We're good. Why?"

Harry scratched his head. "Well, the B'Elanna I know wouldn't be content to sit at home with a five-year-old while her husband has all the fun."

Tom just shrugged and started to move towards the shuttle. "Joe's at this weird age where he's too little to keep up but he's too big to stay in the backpack. It made more sense for him to stay home."

"But couldn't he have stayed with your parents? Or B'Elanna's dad? She could have come with us!"

"He's going through a thing at night," Tom explained with a shake of his head, grabbing the remaining bags that needed stowing. "None of the grandparents would survive two bedtimes in a row with him. Plus, B'Elanna and camping don't really mix. She's more than happy not to come along."

"But that kiss!" Harry persisted as he followed in Tom's wake.

Tom stopped and frowned. "What kiss?"

"Exactly! You're not going to see each other for three days, and you barely touched each other!"

Tom only laughed. "Were we supposed to make out on the sidewalk? We've been married almost eleven years. We see each other all day, every day. We're fine, and you worry too much."

Harry didn't know how to explain his unease. He was glad to hear that Tom and B'Elanna were OK, but… Was this what married life was like? Did all the passion and excitement fade away until you were little more than roommates? Was that what he had to look forward to?

Clearly Harry's expression was still troubled because Tom continued. "B'Elanna and I know how we feel about each other. We don't always have to show it physically." He glanced towards the front of the shuttle to make sure Miral was out of earshot. "Marriage can't be just about sex, Harry. It's not sustainable. And it's definitely not enough when you've got two kids in the house. If we didn't have something more than a physical connection, we'd be long divorced." He gave Harry a wink and closed the door on the cargo hold. "You'll see what I mean in a few years. Assuming you don't mess things up with Teru."

Harry nodded, because what else was there to say? Of course Tom was right — as good as things were with Teru in that department, sexual chemistry wasn't enough to build a whole life on. And just like Tom and B'Elanna, he and Teru had more than that. They could spend hours talking together, especially back when they'd first started dating. They supported each other, too. Well, as long as Harry was willing to stay on Mars, they supported each other. But in every relationship there were sacrifices to be made, and this one was paltry, really. Harry had been content at UP for months now, and there was no reason that was going to change.

He picked up his pack and followed Tom and Falstaff onto the shuttle.

/=\

Tom was the only one still singing by the time the song got to the end. Miral had clamped her hands over her ears and had been pleading with her father to stop for several verses now.

"The last one fell! What the hell! No more bottles of beer on the wall!" Tom sang out with gusto.

Miral's mouth twitched. Harry smiled at her effort to maintain an air of sardonic detachment at Tom's lyrics' change, but her father saw the crack in her armor and pounced, tickling her relentlessly until they both fell off the log in a breathless, giggling heap. Falstaff, not one to be left out, also piled on, licking any body part he could reach.

"Harry!" Tom cried, laughing and gasping for air. "A little help?"

As the fire crackled cheerfully, the three of them made s'mores, told scary stories, and Harry and Miral did their best to keep Tom from singing again. Before too long, Miral was curled up against her father's side, eyes half-shut.

"Come on, kitten," Tom murmured as he helped his daughter to her feet. "Let's get you in your sleeping bag."

Before Tom reclaimed his spot reclining against the log, he fired up the portable replicator and produced a beer for each of them. "Gorgeous night," he said, tilting his head back and directing his gaze upwards. "I hope those clouds stay away. There's nothing like a sky full of stars, is there?"

"You could see them all the time if you came back to the 'Fleet," Harry remarked as he cracked open his can. "No atmosphere, nothing to obscure the view."

Tom shook his head. "Harry, Harry, Harry. When are you going to let this go? It's been seven years. We're not going back." He took a sip of the malty, dark brew. "Besides, seeing them all the time, streaking by at warp — the stars just become so much visual background noise. Here," he gestured broadly above them. "Hiking all day, picking the perfect spot amongst the trees, having even the weather be on your side — it makes them special. Like we earned it."

They sat in silence for a long while, even the irrepressible Falstaff finally exhausted. Harry watched Tom as Tom watched the sky. He was almost unrecognizable from the cynical, acid-tongued man that had saved him from the Ferengi on Deep Space Nine, and Harry didn't mean the missing hair or the extra twenty kilos. "Are you happy, Tom?"

Tom stared at him, his brow creased. "Sure. I mean, nobody's life is perfect, but… Yeah. Of course I'm happy. Why wouldn't I be?" He straightened and leaned closer towards Harry. "What is it? Are you OK? Kidding aside, Harry, if things aren't going well with Teru, or work, or anything — you know you can talk to me, right?"

Harry waved him off. "Yeah, I know that. I'm fine. Teru and I are fine." He grinned at his friend. "You worry too much." Both men leaned back against the log, but Tom was still eyeing him with concern. This would be the perfect time, Harry knew: to tell Tom about Janeway's offer, to tell him he was turning it down to stay with Teru. But somehow, he couldn't make himself form the words. Harry took a sip of his beer and leaned back to watch the clouds move in from the west.

/=\

"Miral, slow down! Wait for us!" Tom called after his daughter as she and Falstaff disappeared around the bend of the next switchback. "It kills me. She can run all day when we're outdoors, but ask her to walk around a museum for an hour and it's all, 'My feet hurt, Daddy! I'm so tired!'"

Harry smiled. It was funny for him, to see Tom being the responsible one — the one that told the kids to get down because it wasn't safe, that they should slow down, or stop whining. Fifteen years ago, he would have laughed out loud if anyone had told him that one day, Tom Paris would be a grown-up.

But clearly having a family and a stable home life agreed with him — and B'Elanna. Harry would be lucky to have what they did. He laughed at himself and his hesitation in telling Janeway he didn't want the first officer job. It was just cold feet. Everyone got them sometimes, right? This was a major decision — one that would change the entire trajectory of his career. Of course he'd needed to put some thought into it. But this weekend settled it — first thing Monday morning he was going to comm the Admiral and tell her the news. He was going to stay in his position at UP.

And if he could make that decision for his professional life, Harry considered, maybe it was time he made a personal one as well. The image of an elegant platinum ring he'd seen at a jewelry store near his parents' home in Asheville popped into his head. Like he told Teru — he was fully committed to their relationship. What better way to show it than a proposal?

"Can I ask you something, Har?" Tom asked, interrupting Harry's internal musings on the perfect music and flowers and venue for popping a certain question.

"Would it stop you if I said no?" Harry retorted with a grin, pausing to take a swig from his water bottle.

"Good point. Let me rephrase: I'm going to ask you something. It's the same thing you asked me last night." Tom studied his face for a moment, his piercing blue eyes suddenly making Harry want to squirm. Harry focused on his water bottle and took another big swallow.

"Are you happy?"

Harry began to hack and cough, the traitorous water having gone down his trachea instead of his esophagus. Tom hit him soundly on the back. "Sheesh, Harry, I didn't meet to get you this upset."

"No," he choked out when he could finally breathe again. "It's fine. It just went down the wrong way." He stood up, wiping tears from his eyes. "I'm fine. And I'm happy. Of course, I'm happy."

"Not that I don't believe you," Tom said as they started back up the trail. "But… I just never saw you being content with a desk job for this long. I know your parents are getting older, and you worry about them, but even when we first got back to Earth, you went back on duty a month before the rest of us. You've always looked for the next big thing: a better mission, a better ship, a promotion. Do you really like your job at UP that much?"

Harry started to walk faster. Why did Tom always have to do this? Act like he knew better than everyone else? "What's the matter, Paris?" he said, forcing his tone to stay light. "Getting sick of having me around?"

Tom had to jog to catch up with him. He's really let himself go, Harry thought uncharitably.

"You know that's not it," Tom panted, as his feet slipped a little on the steep and gravelly trail. "But B'Elanna and I were talking the other night and… We just want to make sure you're staying on Mars for the right reasons, that's all."

Harry stopped again, blocking the trail so that Tom could go no further. Harry knew what the score was. He'd seen it enough times. Tom was bored. He was finally tired of being stuck on Earth, watching the kids, barely piloting anymore, and now he was projecting all his bullshit onto Harry. "And what exactly are the 'right reasons' according to Tom Paris? I'm not the same green ensign getting conned by a Ferengi on DS9, you know."

"I'm realize that. I'm not— "

"Where do you get off, Paris?" Harry snapped. "You think you know what I want from my life better than I do? Just because you couldn't hack it in Starfleet doesn't mean the rest of us don't know what we're doing."

"Come on, Harry. That's kind of—"

"No." Harry started back up the trail. He'd put a lot of thought into this — his career, his relationship. He knew what he wanted, and he wasn't letting Tom Paris tell him otherwise. "I'm done with this conversation. I know what I'm doing and I don't need you to plan my life for me. For once, you need to mind your own—"

Harry's rant was interrupted by a high-pitched scream and frantic barking.

"Miral," Tom whispered. He shed his pack and started pounding up the trail towards the switchback. "Miral!"

Tom's running speed now would have put even B'Elanna to shame, and Harry made it around the turn several strides behind his friend. Falstaff was pacing back and forth, panting and whining; Tom was flat on his stomach, his arms hanging over the edge of the trail that fell away in a steep drop off. Shit. Harry slowed, his heart in his throat, not wanting to slip himself and also afraid of what he might see.

As he leaned over the edge, he let out a shuddering breath when he saw Miral, terrified but alert, wedged against a scrubby little pine at least five meters below them. Harry could see where she must have slid off, a wide swath of disturbed gravel and dirt marking a path to where she stopped. Tom called down to her. "It's OK, kitten. You're going to be fine. Can you climb up at all?"

Miral shook her head and Harry could see the tears streaming down her face. "I can't!" Her voice was shaking. "I hurt my ankle!" The ground dropped away even steeper below the tree she'd grabbed onto, and the vegetation between Miral and trail edge was sparse. Even if she hadn't hurt her ankle, Harry wasn't convinced it was safe for her to move.

"It's OK," Tom said, his voice still steady but Harry saw how his friend's hands trembled. "I'll come down to you. Just hang on."

Harry grabbed Tom's shoulder as he started to swing his legs over the side. "That's crazy. You can't go down there. You'll fall — and that tree's not strong enough to hold you both."

"Let go of me!" Tom barked. "I have to get to her. I'm not going to leave her down there!" Harry had never seen Tom like this — naked terror in his eyes, his voice angry and panicked. Harry didn't let go and instead gripped Tom's other arm.

"Tom," Harry kept his voice calm. "Listen to me. We are not going to leave Miral anywhere. But you going down to her is only going to make things worse. Let me call for an emergency transport."

He took his handheld comm out of his pack and contacted the ranger station. The news wasn't good. "Tom," he said as he kneeled next to his friend. He kept his voice low so Miral couldn't hear. "They've been having issues with the transporters glitching up here all day. I've already contacted HQ and they're on it, but they don't know how long it will be before they can beam her out."

Tom tried again to start the climb down to his daughter. "Then I'm going— Let go of me, Harry!"

"Hey," Harry said, forcing Tom to look at him. "I'm not in the mood to have to save both your necks. We're going to get her, but we're going to do it safely. I've got climbing gear in my pack. It's OK, Tom. I've got this."

Tom nodded, his breath coming out in hitched gasps, but he seemed to finally be able to process what Harry was saying. He dropped onto his stomach and called down to Miral. "It's OK, Miri! We're going to get you out of there! Just hang on!"

"Good thing I was a Boy Scout, right?" Harry said as he secured the safety rope around the closest sturdy tree, trying to keep his friend calm and preferably away from the trail edge. He wished the damn dog would stop whining, it wasn't helping his nerves and it certainly couldn't be doing anything for Tom's. "Check my knots, will ya?"

Tom complied, but he kept glancing over his shoulder, nearly bolting back to the trail edge when he heard his daughter make a frightened sob. "It's all right, buddy," Harry said as he secured the free end of the rope around his body. "I'm going to get her right now."

"I should go," Tom said. "I'm her father, I'm—"

"Tom. Look at yourself. Your hands haven't stopped shaking. It's better if I go and you know it. Besides," Harry added, grinning and directing a pointed look at Tom's gut. "The tree gets a vote, too. And it definitely chooses me."

Tom let out a small laugh and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Just… bring her back safe, OK?"

As Harry slowly made his way down the steep and unstable terrain, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief that he'd been able to stop Tom from coming down unaided. He wasn't even sure how Miral had had the strength or agility to grab onto the tree when she fell. Thank God for those Klingon genes. This trip could have had a much different ending.

But they still weren't out of the woods yet, in any sense of the words. "I'm good, Tom!" he called out. "Just keep the rope taut!" He reached one arm towards Miral. "Come on, sweetheart. Just let go of the tree and grab onto my arm."

She only grabbed the little pine tighter. "I can't," she whimpered, her face streaked with dirt and tears.

"Sure you can," he said. He inched over towards the tree to make it easier for her. "It's not far at all. Just focus on my arm." When she shook her head no, Harry just smiled even as his heart felt like it was pounding out of his chest. "Trust me, Miral. I won't let you fall. I promise."

Miral nodded and took a shaky breath. One hand at a time, she released the tree and grabbed Harry's outstretched forearm. Harry immediately swept the wiry little girl to his chest and closed his eyes for a beat. "You just hang on," he said. "I"m going to the wrap the end of the rope around both of us, and we'll get you out of here."

The trip back up didn't seem to take nearly as long as the one down. Within a few minutes Harry was back sitting on the trail, gulping water from his bottle, and Tom had his arms clasped tight around his sobbing child.

As Harry's heart rate dropped back to normal and his lungs loosened and filled with air, he found he couldn't stop smiling. Another successful mission, Commander Kim. A long absent feeling of exhilaration filled him. Could it just be from the physical exertion? Harry didn't think so. No workout had ever made him feel like this.

No, Harry knew what it was. He'd always known. It was the same thing that had gotten him through seven years stranded in the Delta Quadrant. The same thing that made him jump from ship to ship, one mission to the next, once they'd gotten home. The same thing that was making it so hard for him to call Admiral Janeway and tell her that he was staying on Mars.

It was knowing, with absolute certainty, that you had helped someone that no one else could have helped. Or that you were exploring places no one had ever been, or making discoveries no one else had ever made.

And it was something he hadn't felt even once during his year at Utopia Planitia.

"Starfleet Headquarters to Lieutenant Commander Kim."

Harry pulled his handheld out of his pocket and thumbed it on. "Go ahead, HQ."

"This is Lieutenant Capelli at Transporter Control. We're back online in Denali now, Commander. You still need that beam out?"

Harry glanced over at Tom, who had now released Miral from his arms and was gently removing the boot from her severely swollen ankle. He gave Harry a worried nod.

"That's a yes, Lieutenant. Straight to Starfleet Medical, if you don't mind."

"Won't be a problem, sir. That's two humans and a human-Klingon child, correct?"

Harry felt a nudge against his shin and gave a little sigh. Falstaff, apparently deciding the humans finally had the situation under control, had found a meter-long branch and dropped it at Harry's feet, his tail wagging in anticipation. "And one dog, Lieutenant. Thanks."

/=\

"Commander," the Doctor said, giving Harry a meaningful look from behind Tom's back. "Perhaps you could take Mr. Paris to get a cup of coffee? Or a sedative?"

Tom had clutched Miral in his arms for the transport and had insisted on carrying her to the treatment area himself. Meanwhile, Falstaff had bolted down the corridor after a nurse carrying a food tray, and it had taken Harry, two orderlies, and a paramedic to corral him. By the time the dog was secured in the EMH's office ("If he asks you," Harry told the Doc's admin, "Tom Paris left him here.") Miral's sprained ankle was being regenerated, her tears had been dried, and she was laughing at the Doc's retelling of Tom versus the fetid mud pits of Palomar.

"I should stay with her," Tom insisted. "At least until B'Elanna gets here."

"You should get out of my way," the Doctor said. "I'm perfectly capable of entertaining my goddaughter and fixing her ankle at the same time, assuming her father doesn't continue to be an utter nuisance. Go."

Miral asked Tom to get her ice cream, which was the only reason Harry was able to convince him to leave her side. Harry pushed Tom into a chair in the commissary and got them coffee from the replicator. "Decaf," Harry said, as he put the mug on the table. "I don't think you need any more stimulation today."

Tom's leg bounced and he ran his fingers through his hair. "Thanks, Harry. You're a lifesaver, and I mean that literally."

"It's just coffee, Tom," Harry replied with a grin, pulling out the chair next to him.

"You know that's not what I meant." Tom looked at him, his face pale and serious. "You have no idea what it would have done to me, if Miral hadn't been OK. I really don't know how to thank you."

"It wasn't a big deal—"

"It is to me, Harry." Tom let out a short breath and grimaced. "I guess I owe you an apology, too."

"For what?"

"For panicking and snapping at you, back on the trail." Tom gave him a rueful smile. "Not one of my finer moments. Now you know why I'm not in the 'Fleet anymore."

Harry snorted. "You were never like that on Voyager. You are, or were, a great officer. Confident, decisive. The 'Fleet would be lucky to get you back. It's just because it was Miral."

"That's my point, Harry." Tom took a sip from his mug, and Harry noted his hands were still unsteady. "Ever since Miral, and now Joe, it's different. I can't separate myself from it like I used to — the enormity of the decisions you have to make, the lives hanging in the balance. The fear that I might not make it home someday. I guess my dad could, and maybe you'll be able to, if you have kids someday. But not me. I can't be a father and a Starfleet officer. It was killing me. And it wasn't too good for my marriage, either."

Harry thought back to seven years ago, around the time Tom and B'Elanna had resigned their commissions. He'd known, of course, that Tom had had a hard time after he'd been captured. He'd dodged Harry's calls for weeks afterwards; when he did start taking them again, B'Elanna had always been there, too, and had been the one that did most of the talking. But Tom had always been Mr. Resilient. He'd gone through as much trauma as anyone had during their time in the DQ; he'd always shrugged it off and moved on. "Why dwell on it?" he'd said to Harry more than once on Voyager. "It's in the past. Can't do anything about it now."

The difference being, the two men no longer had the face time they'd had on their old ship. Harry had simply assumed Tom had moved on from his capture like he had from Akritiri or Alice or Banea. He'd never thought to ask Tom why he was leaving Starfleet. He'd just tried to convince him not to. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize," Harry said now, internally berating himself for being so oblivious. "I wouldn't have kept harping on it if I had— "

Tom put up his hand. "It's fine. It all worked out in the end, right? B'Elanna can still be a crack engineer, and test piloting gives me the adrenaline rush I need without the anxiety aftertaste." Tom swirled the coffee around in his mug. "The thing is — when I got captured, when things got really bad for me — it… crystallized everything. Afterwards, I was constantly angry and on edge. I pushed B'Elanna away, neglected Miral. And I couldn't see a way out. It felt like this unsolvable paradox — the 'Fleet made me a terrible husband and father, and my family made me a terrible officer. How could I save one without sacrificing the other? But there was this moment where I suddenly just knew. Walking away from Starfleet was never a sacrifice. Not for me. B'Elanna, the kids. I'd pick them every time."

Harry nodded again, outwardly smiling but inwardly pained at how true Tom's words felt. It wasn't so different really. Teru or Starfleet.

He knew she wasn't asking him to give up his career entirely, but turning down this promotion and this mission, basically tying himself to a desk for the rest of his life — that wasn't what Starfleet was to Harry Kim. Or not what he wanted it to be. All week he'd been giving himself pep talks, making justifications as to why he'd be fine staying on Mars. Why his relationship was more important than being first officer. But if staying at UP was the right thing to do, why did Harry still feel like he needed someone to talk him into it?

"Tom!"

Both men looked up to see B'Elanna striding towards them. Harry braced himself for the angry outburst he was sure was coming — B'Elanna was no doubt going to rip into her husband for his irresponsibility in allowing their daughter to get hurt. He snuck a peek at his friend's face, expecting to see apprehension. Instead, Tom immediately jumped to his feet, and his only expression was one of relief.

When they reached each other, B'Elanna immediately enveloped her husband in a tight hug, and Harry could just make out their murmured words.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's OK, Tom. It was an accident. It could have happened to either one of us. She's fine."

"But—"

"But nothing. I just talked to her. Miral knows she shouldn't have been running ahead and goofing around so close to the trail edge. This wasn't your fault. It's OK."

Harry smiled and sipped from his mug. They'd come a long way from Voyager, his two closest friends in the galaxy. What they had was real love. The kind that lasted. The kind that made sure you didn't forget to eat, or cheered you up when you were sad, or knew when what you needed most was a little reassurance and forgiveness.

Harry thought of Teru and how he loved her laugh and intelligence and her body. But was that really the same thing? Was it enough to carry them through eleven years or longer? He tried to imagine their lives beyond a picture-perfect wedding – doing the work it took to make a home together, to survive the drudgery of raising small children, to grow together instead of apart over a decades-long marriage.

Then Harry thought of the stars and how, even when he was on a starship and they flew by the windows all day and night, they were never 'background noise' to him. How they felt special every time.

"Thanks, Starfleet," B'Elanna said, and he looked up and smiled.

"What for?"

"For taking care of both of them for me."

He opened his mouth to reply when his comm device buzzed. "Ensign Nir to Lieutenant Commander Kim."

"The Doc's admin," Harry explained to his friends before hitting reply. "Go ahead, Ensign."

"Commander, I'm sorry, but things are going very poorly over here. Can you come get this dog? He just ate and threw up one of the Doctor's prized Vulcan orchids. At least, I think that's what this is."

Tom cringed, B'Elanna looked exasperated, but Harry just laughed. "On my way, Ensign. I'll take care of it."

/=\

"Well," Tom sighed. "I guess it's back to seeing you every few years and hoping to be graced with the occasional letter."

"You're worse than my mother." Harry grinned as he rolled his eyes. "I'll write, I promise."

The two of them were drinking wine at the picnic table on Tom and B'Elanna's back patio. It was late. The last guests from Harry's going away party had left over an hour ago, and B'Elanna had gone in to read after she and Tom got their exhausted children tucked in. Falstaff had been glued to Harry most of the night, and now he rested his heavy brown head on Harry's thigh.

"Man, that dog loves you," Tom said with a laugh. "He's going to miss you more than I will."

"I'll write him, too," Harry grumbled, but he gave Falstaff's ears a friendly scratch and couldn't help but smile at the tail thumping he got in response.

"I'm sorry things didn't work out with you and Teru."

"Just wasn't meant to be. It's for the best." After their camping trip had been cut short, he'd finally told Tom everything — about what Teru wanted and the promotion he'd have to give up to be with her. Given how happy Tom was with his family and work in San Diego, Harry had assumed his friend would push him to stay on Mars.

But Tom had surprised him. "Harry — if she doesn't love you for who you are, for who you want to be, there's no future in it. And you are a Starfleet officer. B'Elanna and I have loved having you around, but neither one of us ever thought it was going to be forever. There's compromise and there's changing who you are. You belong out in space, Harry. Not at a desk. If she doesn't see that, then she's not the one for you."

"I just wish I knew what I was going to do next," Harry said now, swirling the dark red cabernet around his glass.

Tom scratched his head and laughed. "Uh… Aren't you leaving for the Delta Quadrant in three days?"

"Yes," Harry said, throwing Tom a dark look. "But I mean… long term. Before Voyager, back when I was with Libby, I used to think it would only be a few years: a mission or two, or maybe after I made lieutenant. Then we'd marry and start a family. That plan got sidetracked for obvious reasons, and when we were on Voyager all I could really focus on was getting back to Earth. There was a lot I loved about that time, but it never felt permanent to me. Not like it did for you and B'Elanna." Harry thought of a long ago conversation on Voyager, when he'd made a risky proposal to get them back to the Alpha Quadrant. I am home, Tom had told him. "I thought once we were back, then that's what I'd want next. To find someone, settle down. But there's always another promotion to gun for, or another mission to take."

"And now eleven years have gone by," Tom said.

"And now eleven years have gone by. If I'm not ready now, when will I be?" He looked around the yard, with its swing set in the corner. He thought of the house he sat next to, littered with toys, crude artwork and trophies decorating every available surface, and the two sleeping children upstairs that brought his friends so much joy. "I always assumed one day I'd get married, give my parents a mess of grandkids, but now… I don't think it's what I want."

Tom shook his head and smiled. "I don't see what the problem is. If you want to be in space, if you aren't feeling a pull to be married or have kids – so what? You only get one life, Harry. Live the one you want, not the one you feel like you should want. Not everybody has to follow the same path."

Harry nodded and sighed. "I guess. But my parents are only getting older, and it's weird to think about, you know? That someday I won't have a family anymore or a home to come back to." He stroked Falstaff's velvety brown ear and tried not to feel too sorry for himself.

Then he got hit in the head with a balled-up napkin.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Tom asked him with a frown. "Are you serious? You'll always have a home to come back to, dumbass. Right here."

Someday, Harry thought, maybe he'd go back to Deep Space Nine. Try to find that damn Ferengi bartender and buy two trays of Lobi crystals off him, at full price. Just as a way of saying thanks. "I guess I do," he said, smiling.

"You know what your split with Teru means, though, don't you?" Tom remarked, tilting his wine glass towards Harry.

"No," Harry said, immediately on high alert.

"It means I have to add to the list." Tom put down his glass and started ticking off his fingers. "Hologram, Borg, the wrong twin, the dearly departed, a terror-, nope, make that two terrorists, and now…" He squinted at Harry for a moment. "I'm not sure I can think of a pithy name for this one."

"Well, if I ever needed more evidence that you've gone soft, Paris, you've given it to me." Harry raised his glass and the two men clinked their wine together. "To good friends."

"To good friends."

They drank and talked well into the night and another bottle of wine, both men knowing it would be a long time before they enjoyed the other's company again.

The End