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PART 2

Harry stood very still as he watched Tom take his shot. The ball ricocheted twice, then slid past the 8-ball to fall with a thunk. He grinned, then moved to take a sip of his drink, water. Watching Tom pace around the table, he slipped on a polite expression. Absently he played with his pool cue.

He didn’t want to be there. Tom had drug him out of his darkened quarters. One more attempt to get him to talk. In the days since he’d realized his feelings for his dream lover, a deep depression had settled over him. The flood of people “willing to listen if you want to talk” was both heartening and annoying.

He sighed again. He didn’t want to talk about it. Not yet anyway. He needed to think. The only way he could do that was if people left him alone. It did help knowing they cared but this was something he had to face alone. He most certainly wasn’t going to tell Tom he’d fallen for another unattainable.

That was the problem. Harry wasn’t so sure the dream wasn’t more than just that. It had not returned since the morning in the shower and he had tried to unravel everything he could about it in that time. He ‘d been so focused about the man that he’d barely noticed the where of the dreams. He had been to the room in his dream many times. As a child he’d played there with animated toy soldiers and stuffed tigers. As a teenager, he’d solved tough problems and made the most important decisions of his life there. That was all from before he was fourteen, before he’d set his sights on Star Fleet.

When it had returned, it was the dreams of an adult. He’d never made the connection to the warm comforting dream he’d had so long before. It had been pure chance that he’d put two and two together. The only person he’d ever told about it was Libby.

Harry had been thinking a lot about his past relationships. He’d always known the truth about Libby. She had never loved him. She loved his family’s place in Hong Kong society and the wealth that came with his name. The fact that he’d gone into Star Fleet was just another selling point. He’d known and ignored it.

He had loved her but had been just as calculating as she. He hadn’t consciously decided to use her but he had. He made her his confidant, knowing that she’d never betray him for fear that he’d leave her in a lurch. He still, foolishly, had stacks of letters that they’d written back and forth. He’d gone through them and found Libby’s comments on his dreams. Something had clicked.

That had been not half an hour before Tom appeared at his door. Somehow, he’d managed to be talked into a night at Sandrine’s when all he wanted to do was think about what that revelation meant. Instead, he was listening to Tom’s idle chatter and being badly beaten at pool.

“Harry, your shot.”

He glance up startled. He ignored that concerned look on his friend’s face, and lined up a shot. It was too easy; Tom had to have felt sorry for him. Sighing, he took his shot. As he watched the balls roll across the table something became very clear to him.

He and the dream belonged together.