Title: What Goes Around
Author: Dusk (dusk@goldserve.net)
Pairing: Tu/K
Rating: PG
Archive: InfiniteDiversity, VSPS
Series: Yes, I named it. It's a proper series now [shiver] This is the fourth story in the 'Mutual Vengeance' series, and therefore a sequel to 'Sharing the Misery', 'The Rewards of Revenge' and 'Sweet Retaliation'. This one's just as odd.
Disclaimer: These boys are unlawfully borrowed from their true masters, TPTB at Paramount. I make no profit off of this minor infraction.
Summary: Tuvok gets inventive, but not in the way Harry expects.
Notes: To Jena, beta-goddess. You *rock*, love.


Tuvok sat on the couch, working. Harry sat on the floor, against the wall, and watched him.

He envied the single-mindedness. Somehow, the Vulcan managed to be totally focused on whatever he was doing, utterly ignoring the rest of the world. Which was bad, when Harry was bored and Tuvok had work to do, which was often. Of course, at other times, this character trait ended up being a very *good* thing for Harry. Such as when he managed to lure Tuvok away from his padd and into the bedroom. Or the bathroom. Or sometimes - quite often in fact - on the couch, the floor or up against the wall. Or the window.

He imagined that the stars and any passing spaceships must get a fairly good view of things when they did that.

But right now, Tuvok was focusing his attention completely on his work. And Harry was very, very bored. Chiefs of Security got far too much off-duty work, where as mere ensigns, even bridge officers, got very little. Some would say not enough, although he wasn't one of them.

Harry was forming a plan. If things went well, Tuvok's work would be forgotten and he would remember that he had a very lonely - and horny - mate who was patiently waiting for him to finish. Okay, not patiently. Extremely *im*patiently. But at least he, Harry, was being quiet, as requested.

Harry stood and wandered over to the window. And then, after a few moments, wandered equally casually over to the couch. He stood behind it, behind Tuvok, and thoughtfully began giving him a shoulder massage, which Tuvok either totally ignored, or pretended to ignore. Harry couldn't tell which.

Either way, it was *un*acceptable.

He continued his massage with one hand and moved the other up to tickle the sensitive spot behind Tuvok's ear.

Tuvok slapped his hand away without looking up.

Harry's hand meandered down and into Tuvok's shirt, where it was slapped with rather more force this time.

Harry decided that since subtle wasn't working, a more direct approach was called for. He climbed over the back of the couch and sat next to Tuvok. Or rather, half on Tuvok and half on the couch.

Tuvok looked up from his work for the first time.

"Harry, not now."

"Why not?"

"It is a bad time. Please, go and occupy yourself elsewhere."

"But now is a particularly *good* time." He smiled charmingly and inched his way further into Tuvok's lap. Tuvok attempted to push him off, but Harry refused to let go even as he fell, which led to both of them tumbling to the floor. The padd flew out of Tuvok's hand and landed some distance away.

Harry looked up into Tuvok's eyes, currently less than 10 centimetres from his own, and grinned. Him on the floor, Tuvok on top of him and that padd nowhere in sight. This was almost exactly what he'd been hoping for, although the bruise where he'd rebounded off the coffee table hadn't been part of his original plan. But still, close enough.

Tuvok's eyes remained carefully expressionless for a moment, then he bent his head and nuzzled Harry's neck. Harry gave himself a mental high five.

"Wait here," Tuvok whispered in his ear and stood up. He walked towards the bedroom.

Harry half sat up and watched him leave. Okay, this wasn't what he'd expected, but he could work with it. Tuvok was probably going to get lube, or something.

Tuvok returned, carrying something that was definitely not lube. Something shiny... something metallic. Something Harry recognised, in fact.

He sat up. "Hey, those are Tom's handcuffs! How did you get them?"

Tuvok stopped, one eyebrow raised. "Perhaps you'd care to explain how you recognise them?"

Harry bit his lip. "Don't look at me like that. He saw them in one of his old movies, I helped him program the pattern into the replicator. That's *all*," he added quickly.


"So why do you have them?"

Tuvok knelt by Harry's side. "I found the pattern in the replicator. It seems Mr. Paris left it there... for the benefit of the crew. I thought they might be... useful."

"Oh, yeah?"

Tuvok kissed him gently, and Harry forgot for a moment about the cuffs. Until he felt the cold metal click shut around his wrist, and the other end fasten around something that proved, when he broke away from Tuvok and opened his eyes, to be the crossbar on the coffeetable.

"Uh... what are you doing, Tuvok?"

Tuvok touched Harry's cheek, then stood. Harry watched him retrieve the padd and sit back down on the couch, carefully just out of reach.

"You twisted bastard." He scowled and pulled half-heartedly at the restraints, stopping when it was apparent they weren't going to just fall open.

"You were preventing me from working. Those... handcuffs, did you call them?... are already proving very useful indeed."

"You could have just *said*, you know."

"I did say. You ignored me."

"So whatever it is you're working on is more important than me, is that what you're saying?" Harry contrived to look wounded.

"It is the security roster and really does need to be finished by tomorrow. So for the next half an hour, yes, it is."

"I'll get you for this."

Tuvok failed to look even slightly threatened by this. "Not for the next half an hour you won't."

Harry sat up awkwardly, shooting death-glares in Tuvok's direction, and drew his knees up to his chest. "I'm withholding sexual favours until further notice."

"Fine. We'll see who lasts the longest." Tuvok sounded unbearably smug.

"Darn Vulcan self-control," Harry muttered, knowing full well who'd win that particular battle. He settled for a running monologue, barely audible, on his plans to avenge this indignity.

Tuvok outwardly ignored him and continued working on the roster, occasionally making mental notes of some of Harry's more inventive solutions.

Five minutes later, Harry's monologue wound down as his imagination gave out, and he returned to simply looking really, really pissed off.

Which was nothing to how he looked when the doorchime went.

"No way. No *way*! Let me out of these things, now, Tuvok!"

Tuvok looked thoughtful. "Computer, identify the person outside my quarters."

*Captain Janeway.*

Tuvok put his padd to one side and stood up, disregarding Harry's protests.

"You are *so* dead," Harry grumbled as the door opened.

The Captain strode in. "Tuvok, have you finished the..." she trailed off in surprise. "Harry?"

Harry smiled weakly. "Hello, Captain."

Janeway looked at Tuvok, who shrugged.

"Yes. Well, the roster, Tuvok?"

"I was just completing it now. Would you care for refreshments?"

"Coffee. I was thinking about Ensign Chavez, and whether perhaps we should..."

Harry blocked it out, at least until he heard the Captain mention Chakotay.

"... had some ideas about rearranging beta shift. I'll call him up."

She commed the First Officer, who said he'd be along shortly. Harry groaned.

"You're calling *Chakotay* here too?"

Janeway looked over. "Do you have a problem with that, Ensign?" Ice vied with amusement in her voice. Harry looked suitably chastened.

"No, Ma'am," he said, resignedly.

She looked at Tuvok. "At least get him some coffee, Tuvok?"

Tuvok went to the replicator, ordering Harry's favourite blend. He took it over to Harry, who accepted it with a snarl.

"I'm very upset with you, you know."

Tuvok kissed his forehead. "You will get over it." He returned to the table where Captain Janeway sat.

The doorchime rang again, and Chakotay walked in.

"Hi, Chakotay," Harry said calmly from his seat on the floor. Chakotay glanced quickly at Captain Janeway for clues on how to react, but she apparently thought that Harry being chained to a table and drinking coffee was nothing unusual.

"Harry. This is, uh, unexpected." He grinned widely.

"How unfortunate it is that you have an appointment with the Captain and can't stay and discuss my amusing predicament," Harry said sourly.

"Point made. I take it this shouldn't be mentioned outside of these quarters?"

"It shouldn't even be mentioned *in* this quarters, Commander."

Chakotay grinned again, nodded and joined the captain and Tuvok at the table.

Three-quarters of an hour later, the roster was completed to everyone's satisfaction, and Janeway and Chakotay made their excuses and left. The door closed behind them, and Janeway held a hand up for Chakotay to stop. He did so, looking questioningly at her. She pointed behind them.

"You shit! You absolute, total *SHIT*!" Harry's raised voice came clearly from within Tuvok's quarters. There was a brief silence, then, at more normal volume, "You're scum of the lowest order. I am never, *ever*... mmm... oh, god, yes... just there...."

Janeway suppressed a smile.

"We probably don't need to hear that," Chakotay agreed, grinning, and they walked away.

"We could do something about repairing the soundproofing, too," Janeway commented.

"Innovative solution, though, didn't you think?"

"Yes. Maybe I should implement it on the Bridge...."

Back in Tuvok's quarters, Tuvok was apologising to Harry the best way he knew how. Harry was still chained to the table, but he didn't care, because any situation that involved them both being naked was fine with him. Although next time handcuffs were involved, it sure as hell wasn't going to be *him* that was chained to things. He made a mental note to thank Tom.

Tuvok noticed Harry's attention wandering and redoubled his efforts, which was exactly the effect Harry has been hoping for. He wondered exactly how long he'd be able to draw this particular apology out.

He screamed. Apologising was something Tuvok *definitely* had a talent for.


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