by torch, March 1997

Disclaimer: The characters and the setting belong to Paramount. The story (what story?) is mine. This is a sequel to The wilder shores of love, The art of conversation, The name of the game, The declaration of independence and The reputation of a rake. By now I think it's rather difficult to step into the series without knowing what's gone before, but anyone who wants to is more than welcome to the madness. :-)

Dedicated to Taffy, who couldn't have known it would take me six installments before I could get anyone to tie anyone else up, and to an unknown gentleman who hopefully found the Asian badboy abuse he was looking for. Do not archive this story without permission.

The rewards of good behavior

"They'll be clear of the shield parameters in about—" Harry swallowed hard as the dot on the screen that was the shuttle Polyhymnia performed a corkscrew roll to avoid another torpedo. "—about eleven seconds, captain."

"Good." If her voice had been any crisper it would have started to curl up at the edges. "Ensign Bateheart, be prepared to take us out of here as soon as they're inside the shuttle bay."

"Yes, captain." Bateheart sounded nervous, too, and small wonder.

Digging his nails into the palm of his hand, Harry watched Polyhymnia dodge everything that was thrown at her as she made her way out of the defensive field around the planet. It took longer than the eleven seconds he'd estimated, as the shuttle had to backtrack a couple of times in order to stay safe — reasonably safe, he amended as the edge of a blast rocked the shining dot slightly off course. When she finally broke clear and headed straight for Voyager, Harry breathed for the first time in what felt like an hour.

The captain's spine became, impossibly, even straighter. "Mr. Tuvok, you have the bridge. Ensign Kim!" Harry nodded and went with her into the turbo lift, leaving Frazer to run Ops. When the doors closed, the captain gave him a sideways look but said nothing.

Harry was grateful that she'd allowed him to come along, but he wondered if she'd thought about what kind of an impression it would make on the rest of the crew — not what they'd think about him, but what they'd think about her. It would be easy enough to draw a parallel. He couldn't keep his mind on the subject, though, as they arrived in the shuttle bay.

Chakotay and Tom came tumbling out of the shuttle, grinning madly and thumping each other's backs. It was almost possible to smell the exhilaration on them now that they had flown themselves out of the jaws of death; they looked giddy, wild. Next to Harry, Janeway tensed. She didn't say a word, but Chakotay turned his head and their eyes met, and the temperature inside the shuttle bay went up by at least ten degrees. Harry felt the hairs at the back of his neck rise.

"Which one of you gentlemen," she asked, "was responsible for setting off this firework display?" Tom and Chakotay looked at each other, then faced the captain again, but before they could say anything she went on, "I'd have expected better of Academy cadets! It's sheer luck you're both back alive."

"Not just luck, captain," Chakotay said, clearing his throat. "I'd say Paris's flying skill had something to do with it, too. I'm sorry, we—"

"I thought you were going to die," she said softly, intensely. They were staring at each other. She took a step towards him, he took a step towards her, and then her hand gripped the back of his neck and his arm went around her waist, picking her up. Harry closed his eyes; he could hear the gentle crackling that spoke of a vast conflagration to come. Footsteps went past him. When he looked again, only Tom was there, staring at the door.

Harry looked at him for about three seconds. Then he pounced, slamming Tom back against the shuttle, pinning him there, kissing him. Tom pushed right back, struggling against Harry's grip but returning the kiss just as fiercely. When they broke apart they were both gasping for breath. "We're going to the holodeck," Harry said.

Tom stared at him. "The holodeck?" He was flushed from the dangerous flight as well as the kiss, and his eyes sparkled with excitement and adrenalin, but some remnant of common sense seemed to be in charge still. "It's the middle of your bridge shift. Oh God, don't do that," he added with a gasp as Harry curved a hand around his ass and pulled him in close.

"We could always fuck right here," Harry said, nibbling at Tom's ear. He ran his tongue around the delicate whorls, then bit at the sensitive skin just beneath the lobe. Tom growled and grabbed Harry's shoulders, turned them both around and pressed Harry against the shuttle instead, and kissed him so thoroughly Harry thought he was either going to die from lack of oxygen, or explode on the spot.

"Harry, your—" Tom moaned when Harry bit his neck, but tried again. "Your bridge shift—"

Harry broke free of Tom's tight embrace and started to drag him out of the shuttle bay. "The captain," he said, "just got carried out of here by Chakotay, and I bet they didn't go to the bridge. She knew what would happen when we went here. Deck six," he added for the benefit of the turbo lift.

Tom was almost bouncing off the lift walls. "I can't keep still," he said apologetically. "It was incredible, Harry, I haven't flown like that since, I don't know, and Chakotay—"

Harry took hold of him and kissed him again. "You scared the hell out of me," he said, biting at Tom's lips. "God, the way you look right now..." He was starting to wonder if they'd make it to the holodeck, even. His heart was pounding madly. Control, he needed control, or at least remember how to breathe.

The lift doors opened again and they straightened up and did their best to look respectable as they walked towards the holosuites. Fortunately they did not meet anyone, and as soon as they were inside a holosuite and the privacy lock had been engaged, they pressed together again, pushing hard, almost wrestling with each other for the privilege of giving pleasure, hands roaming everywhere.

After a few moments Tom stopped nibbling on Harry's neck long enough to say, "Are we supposed to run a program?"

"Oh. Yeah." Harry disengaged a little from Tom's embrace, to give himself a moment to think. "Computer, run program Kim lambda point five."

They were standing in a small, intimate room with dark walls and a polished hardwood floor. If there was a window, it was hidden behind thick velvet draperies. A lamp with a yellow shade provided soft light. The room was dominated by a huge, old-fashioned brass bed piled high with pillows and comforters.

Tom looked at it and smiled. "God, what a bed." He moved towards it and Harry followed, and they stood next to the bed kissing again and again until Harry started to take Tom's uniform off. He wanted to be slow and thorough, kissing every part of Tom's body as it was exposed, but Tom was all but fighting with him for the right to strip him, and they ended up just about tearing each other's clothes off.

"I love the way your skin feels against mine," Harry whispered, stroking Tom's shoulders, his back. "So soft, I want to touch you all over, every part of you, inside and out."

Tom sat down abruptly on the edge of the bed, panting for air. "Oh Harry, Harry, I want you, I want, oh—."

"What do you want?"

Tom looked up at him. "I don't know," he confessed. "So much, too much and I can't keep still, I want everything, I—" He reached up and took hold of Harry and pulled him down so they were both lying on the bed and they both moaned at the same time, pressing close, closer.

Then Harry drew a deep breath. Tom was almost frantic, pushing against him, wound tight and unable to surrender to his desire. "Do you trust me?" he asked quietly. "Do you trust me to give you what you need?"

He hadn't thought it was possible but the heat between them was turned up even more at those words. Tom swallowed, and nodded. "Yeah. You know I do, I just, I'm still flying, Harry."

Harry pushed Tom down again, and himself on top, kissing and licking and biting. "Don't worry about it," he said as he took Tom's wrists and dragged them over his head. "It'll be all right." He clicked the first wrist restraint shut and Tom stiffened under him. "Everything will be fine." The second one, and Tom made a small sound, scared and excited at the same time. "I love you, Tom."

Then he sat back and took a deep breath and looked at his lover, allowing himself the simple pleasure of enjoying Tom's beauty. Tom's eyes had gone wide and dark, and he was pulling on the restraints — not fighting them, really, just testing that they were for real, the soft leather cuffs that held him and the chains that were fastened to the headboard.

"Oh, Harry," he whispered. And he looked so wonderful, the tenderness Harry felt was almost painful, and he had to let it out somehow. Leaning in for a kiss, he found Tom's mouth surrendering sweetly to his own, and then Tom kissed him back with that edgy passion that drove him out of his mind.

Harry trailed his mouth along the side of Tom's neck, nibbling gently, using his teeth just enough to make Tom gasp, but not hard enough to actually hurt. The hollow above Tom's collarbone was irresistible, and he filled it with kisses. Tom made another sound, and there was something of impatience in it. Lifting his head, Harry caught Tom's eyes. "Too slow for you?" Tom nodded, and Harry smiled. "Too bad," he said and moved away, until their bodies weren't touching any more.

Tom drew a deep, agonized breath, but didn't say anything. He just looked at Harry, pleading with his eyes. Harry drew his fingertip from the hollow of Tom's throat down to the hollow in the center of his chest, where he traced a slow spiral pattern. Then he went on straight down, across the taut stomach, to the next hollow. As Harry's fingertip circled his navel, Tom whimpered. It was all Harry could do to keep his evil smile from showing as he teased this sensitive spot. He dipped his finger into it carefully, traced around the edge again, then let his fingertip slide softly in and out, no more than a few millimeters at a time.

"Harry, please." Muscles worked under pale skin, drawing everything tighter, tighter; Tom was still momentarily, as a coiled steel spring is still. Harry moved his fingertip again, down in a leisurely stroke, and then up along Tom's cock. Tom jerked, hips lifting off the bed, neck arching back. "Please, Harry, please, I need..."

His voice was so raw. Irresistible. Harry pounced on him, holding him tight, then gripping his arms as he licked at Tom's chest and bit at his nipples. He wanted to touch everything, everything. And Tom moved under him, working his hips, fighting so hard.

Mine, he thought, for once feeling no fear of the word. You're mine, Tom Paris. "And I'm going to fuck you," he added out loud, just to feel the shudder that went through Tom at those words. Harry ground himself against Tom one more time, then moved off him and stroked his chest gently. "Turn over." Tom rolled over, then pushed himself up as much as the restraints would let him.

Harry felt his heart beat faster. The sight of Tom on his elbows and knees, legs spread, was making him so hot he thought he'd come right there and then. He breathed deep, starting to count backwards from a hundred in French, and dug out the jar of lubricant that was hidden underneath one of the pillows. Then he leaned in while he unscrewed the lid to lick slowly at the tight bud of Tom's asshole. Tom moaned and his back dipped even more, hips pushing up, begging for Harry to enter him.

"In a minute, love," Harry said softly and pushed two greasy fingers into Tom, loosening him up. Tom squirmed with pleasure, twisting against Harry's deep, steady strokes. Dark fire flared up inside Harry, threatening to burn away the last remnants of his control.

"Go on," Tom panted. "Fuck me." Then he moaned as Harry rubbed across his prostate before drawing his fingers out. "Oh, Harry, I want it, God, I need it. Do it to me." Harry pressed the head of his cock against Tom's ass and Tom began to push himself back, struggling against the restraints, wanting it inside. "Do it!"

Harry gripped Tom's hips and thrust inside in one swift motion, and Tom let his head fall forward and gave a choked sound. Harry paused. "You okay?"

Tom's voice was ragged and unsteady. "Harry, fuck me, or I'm going to scream."

"You're going to scream anyway," Harry promised, and then he pulled back and drove himself into Tom's ass in another hard stroke. Tom bucked back against him, deliciously tight and hot and so desperately eager; the force of his desire alone was pushing Harry towards the edge way too fast. Harry was fighting his own wildness, and Tom was fighting the restraints, and it was such a wonderful struggle.

Arching his back, Tom sobbed aloud, crying out in mindless pleasure. Harry leaned forward over him, bit his neck. One with you, I want to be one with you, part of you part of me, inside and out, heart and soul, love and insanity. He dug his fingers into Tom's shoulders and tried to hold him as they strove together to share the same space. One heartbeat, one breath.

Harry wanted to slow down, but everything drew him faster. They burned together. Tom threw his head back and struggled to get the word out. "Flying," he panted, barely able to speak, "still flying."

And Harry almost laughed for sheer joy. He let go of Tom's shoulder and reached around to wrap his hand firmly around Tom's erection. And then Tom did scream, pushing himself backwards onto Harry's cock, and forward into Harry's hand, and exploding in long wrenching shudders that gripped Harry too. The light burned brighter, grew dim. They slumped in a heap, glued together by sweat and semen and love.

"Love," Harry whispered. "My love."

"Mm," Tom said, sounding warm and content, and Harry stroked his neck and his shoulders, kissed him, tasting sweat and satisfaction. He breathed slowly for a while before he reluctantly, carefully, separated their bodies. Rolling to the edge of the bed, he sat up and felt his head spin. Tom made another enquiring noise.

"I'll be right back," Harry said and got to his feet, walking over to a half-hidden door that led into a lavishly programmed bathroom. He washed quickly but thoroughly, soaked a washcloth and grabbed a dry towel before going back to rejoin Tom, who had turned over on his side and was looking at Harry with sleepy intensity.

"Why do I always end up in the wet spot?" he asked. Harry smiled, sitting down and starting to clean his lover's body. He stroked Tom's back with his free hand and felt the way the muscles shifted. Tom wasn't nearly as relaxed as he looked, and that glitter was back in his eyes again.

"Because you deserve it," Harry said calmly, bending down to place a kiss in the small of Tom's back before drying him off. "How do you feel?"

"Fine." Tom tugged at the cuffs. "Let me out of these? I have things to do, and so have you."

So, his work here wasn't done yet. Harry trailed a finger along Tom's spine, tickled the back of his neck, enjoying the soft hairs at the nape. "Yes, I have something to do," he agreed. Tom looked at him suspiciously. "Love, think about your situation for a moment. You're lying here in the middle of a pleasure program, naked and chained to a bed; you smell of sex and you look completely debauched. Your lips are swollen, your skin is still flushed. You look gorgeous. And you think I'm going to let you go?"

It worked. Tom blushed. At the same time his eyes darkened in response. Words had always served Harry well when it came to seducing Tom. Stretching out on the bed, he moved closer and brushed his lips across Tom's temple, his eyelid, his cheekbone, the corner of his mouth, the line of his jaw. Sometimes, making love to Tom, he had to close his eyes so he wouldn't be too distracted by the beauty he'd just described.

Harry ran a firm hand across Tom's shoulders and down his back, looking with his fingers for the tension that had not yet been dissipated. He squirmed down a little and kissed the hollow of Tom's breastbone, then started to tongue one of his nipples slowly. Despite the warning he'd been given, Tom gasped in something very like surprise. That made Harry smile. He ran his tongue in tiny circles around the erect nub and then sucked at it, letting his teeth play with the tender flesh. The surprise turned to a soft groan.

Switching from nipple to nipple, using teeth and tongue and fingertips, Harry kept on teasing until Tom was breathing hard and pushing forward, erect again and trying to rub his hard cock against Harry's body. Harry moved away. He stroked Tom's side, his hip, then lifted his hand away when Tom tried to turn under his touch. Tom muttered something under his breath. "Harry."

"You didn't think it was going to be easy, did you?" Harry said. "Get up again, on your knees and elbows like before." He trailed his fingers along Tom's spine again, stroked his ass, and was surprised enough at the idea that suddenly arrived in his head that he didn't give in to it. Not this time. Instead, he sat up and used the same hand to caress Tom's thighs and shift them further apart, while with the other one he searched for the jar of lubricant again.

Tom made another of those little sounds that Harry was learning to interpret. This one was slightly distressed, but in a good way. I'm pushing him, Harry thought. This slow, deliberate exposure, this vulnerability, was an integral part of what Tom wanted. And Harry would never abuse the privilege of being allowed to give it to him. He kissed the rounded bump of his lover's tailbone, then cupped his ass cheeks in both hands and pulled them slightly apart. Tom whimpered. "Fuck me again," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"No." Harry ran his tongue down the crack and licked at the sensitive opening, circling it, then flicking the tip of his tongue in slow deliberate motions, over and over. He could hear the exact moment of surrender, when Tom's harsh breaths turned into breathless moans, a ripple ran through him and his back dipped and he leaned forward, parting his legs even more, offering himself.

Harry was grateful he'd already come once, or he'd have abandoned his intentions and taken Tom right there and then. He went on teasing, knowing just what pleased Tom most, knowing just what drove him wild with need. The ring of muscle was still fairly relaxed and Harry probed at it with his tongue, while with one hand he grabbed hold of the lubricant and greased palm and fingers, then reached to stroke Tom's cock. The strong, confident touch produced another whimper, and when Harry stabbed at the opening with his tongue, pushing just inside again and again in tiny fucking motions, Tom wailed.

Yes, love, oh yes, Harry thought, his hand working Tom's hard shaft, slick with lube and precum. You're going to come for me, and you're going to come hard. He slowed down for a moment, listening to ragged breaths and barely-suppressed pleas, then speeded up again. Tom was shifting his hips helplessly, not knowing which way to move to increase the pleasure, his whole body screaming a silent pleasepleaseplease. When he finally came it seemed to happen in slow motion, a climax so thorough and relentless it left him lying in a limp heap, with barely enough energy left to remember to breathe.

Harry straightened up and rubbed at his neck. He looked at Tom, that lovely strong body sprawled in exhaustion, and smiled as he stretched out on the bed, too. That had been good. The idea of spanking Tom the next time returned, and with it awareness of his own unsatisfied desire. Since Tom was out for the count, Harry started to stroke himself, thinking about what it might be like to have Tom across his lap, to warm that sensitive skin with the palm of his hand.

"Don't." Tom's voice was rough, but he sounded alive at least. Looking up, Harry found Tom had turned his head and was watching him with a soft smile. "I want to play with that. Come up here where I can get at you."

Instead, Harry reached up and undid the restraints, setting Tom free. Tom rubbed at his wrists for a moment, then moved down in the bed, taking Harry's hand and pushing it away. Harry lay back on his elbows; Tom looked up at him and winked, then started to lick Harry's balls, bathing them slowly with his tongue. Harry sighed, and watched as Tom nibbled gently at his scrotum before shifting upwards and running his tongue along Harry's cock, ending with a leisurely turn around the head that made Harry push his hips up reflexively.

He pulled up some pillows and lay back against them, knowing he wouldn't be able to support himself on his elbows for long, not with Tom's wonderful mouth working on him and sending shockwave after shockwave through his body. One of his hands found one of Tom's and they linked their fingers together, Harry clutching hard as Tom flicked his tongue over a sensitive point.

When he looked down he saw Tom's mouth close around his cock and suck it in deep, and that particular sight never failed to drive him out of his mind and make his head spin with lust and passion in equal measure. The wetness and silky-smooth heat of Tom's mouth and throat became the entirety of his universe, and the overpowering sensations forced his eyes shut; he existed in darkness and shuddering ecstasy and love, love, my love, oh God how I love you. The darkness and his body were rent by silver lightning, love you, " you, I love you!"

The shudders passed and Tom was holding him, planting soft kisses all over his face. Harry wrapped his arms around his lover, and smiled. Some bridge shift.

* * *

They walked into the holodeck again, at the hour when everyone who felt like it went to hang out in the communal program, talk and relax. Tom looked around with a mischievous expression on his face, seeming to think back to a dark room and a huge bed. Watching him, Harry wondered if everyone else could read Tom's mind as easily as he could. "It was good, then?"

"Oh, yes." Tom turned his head. "It was more than just good, Harry. It was wonderful." He ran his fingers through his hair as if making sure he was tidied up now. "More than that, it was right. You know what I mean?"

Harry nodded. He moved closer and kissed Tom's cheek, a matter-of-fact caress; Tom looked at him, a little surprised, a little pleased.

The captain was leaning against the bar, arguing cheerfully with Neelix about whether a mix of Kthurian liqueur and pellati sauce, decorated with a single dorn berry on a toothpick, could reasonably be called a dry martini. "...much nicer and sweeter than that nasty stuff yet with the same fine taste, captain. Well, almost the same fine taste."

"Neelix, there is a reason why it's called a dry martini," the captain said throatily, but she didn't seem particularly annoyed.

Tom chuckled. "She looks pleased, doesn't she?" he said with a world of artificial innocence in his voice.

"Are you expecting a thank you?" Harry wondered.

"Maybe from Chakotay," Tom quipped. Then his eyes widened as the first officer came into view, chatting with Sam Wildman, who was carrying Washington on one hip. They came to join Tom and Harry. Tom and Chakotay looked at each other, then shared wide, wicked smiles; seeing that made Harry want to tap-dance on the ceiling.

Washington stretched both arms out to Tom and said something imperious, which made her mother laugh. As Tom gave in to the little girl's beguilements, Chakotay put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I'd like a word with you."

Harry nodded, and they strolled through the resort together, leaving Tom, Sam and Washington to play a noisy game involving the colorful paper umbrellas from Neelix's so-called vodka tonics. The light was changing again — Neelix must have asked Tom for that sunset subroutine. Sensible of him.

"I'm sorry I never had the time to get back to you," Harry said. "I know I promised."

"I think everyone would agree that exploring the planet was more important," Chakotay said with a soft chuckle, "even if it didn't quite go the way we'd hoped. I certainly wasn't expecting a subterranean defense system hiding under a cloaking device!"

They were at a distance from the other crewmembers now and not likely to be overheard. Chakotay stopped to admire a flowering plant and trace a delicate white petal with one fingertip. "I wish I'd noticed it earlier," Harry said, feeling guilty. Nothing had showed up on his scans until the moment the system was activated and trying to take the shuttle down. "I'm sorry, commander—"

"Harry, whoever lived on that planet once had better technology than we have. You're not to blame. And that wasn't what I wanted to talk about. Or not entirely." Chakotay straightened up and turned towards Harry. "Yesterday I was going to say a few things that I'm glad I never got around to saying." Harry only had time to tilt his head enquiringly before Chakotay went on, "I made a few faulty assumptions about your relationship with Tom, and I'd like to apologize."

Harry smiled. "Chakotay, you don't have to apologize for something you never even said."

The first officer smiled back, and shrugged. "No, but it will make me feel better. And I will tell Tom, too."

When Chakotay fell silent, Harry watched him for a moment before asking, "What made you change your mind?"

"When we were taking the shuttle out, I knew we could die at any moment. I was preparing myself for it. Not giving up, but accepting that it might happen. And I looked at Tom and he was smiling. He said, 'Don't worry, Chakotay, we'll get out of this alive.' It was infectious, that smile. He looked completely fearless. I asked him how he knew and he said it was simple — he couldn't die, he had to get back to you."

Chakotay's voice was still calm and even, but his eyes were darkly serious. Harry discovered a lump in his throat, and tried to swallow. "Oh," he said softly, and swallowed again. The world started to get a little fuzzy around the edges, and his eyes burned.

"It's all right," Chakotay said, more as a statement of fact than anything else. "He got back. And I realized that I had misjudged what this relationship meant to him. And to you...?"

"Yes," Harry said, "to me," and he brushed away a few stray tears with the back of his hand. "Thanks, Chakotay." He still felt like crying, but he was happier than he'd ever been. Without saying anything, they started to walk again, taking a slow turn around the open spaces before starting to head back to their friends.

Washington was sitting astride Tom's shoulders, tugging at his ears. Wildman had joined the captain at the bar, and together they were trying to explain to Neelix that when it came to Earth-style drinks, reproducing the actual taste was more important than just giving them the correct name. It didn't seem as though anything they said would make a permanent impression, although Neelix was nodding and even taking notes on a padd.

In the end they all got plain fruit juice and settled in a spot where they could soak up the last of the sunshine. A reluctant Washington was detached from Tom and eventually settled into sleep in her mother's arms. Harry sat watching Chakotay and the captain, who were being very proper. Well, they had to know everyone was watching them.

It was a pleasant evening, with quiet conversation about nothing in particular. When the sun set they sat watching the programmed stars, making up names for new constellations. Wildman was the first to leave, taking Washington off to bed. Without her soothing presence, there was a little too much awareness between the four of them of how much of their private lives they had exposed to each other. The captain in particular seemed a little uncomfortable, and Harry wasn't surprised when Tom turned idle talk into a smooth excuse to say good night.

Walking away from the captain and Chakotay, they strolled towards the exit, in no particular hurry to get there. Harry found another of the flowering bushes and paused to find out if the delicate flowers had a scent to match their looks. They did, of course; a subtle and pleasant perfume that made him wish he could have one of those plants in his quarters. Too bad it wasn't real.

"Harry," Tom said uncertainly, touching his arm to get his attention. "Harry, about this, today, and..."

"Yes?" Harry turned his head and found Tom looking very serious now. He seemed to be concentrating on choosing his words and getting them right, and Harry gave him time.

After a few moments, Tom got straight to the point. "I've never felt like this before," he said. "It's so strange. The more I trust you, the better it gets, I keep raising the stakes and I win every time. I've never felt so loved. Or so safe." He paused, but Harry stayed silent, sensing that Tom hadn't finished yet. "I want to do that for you," he said finally. "I want to make you feel that way."

"You do," Harry said softly. "You make me happy. And yes, you're right, the more you trust me, the better it gets. And it's so easy."

"But I've never said—" Tom looked embarrassed. "You know."

"Yes," Harry agreed, "I know." He smiled at his lover. "I know, Tom." He watched the look in Tom's eyes, the way Tom blushed, and everything was right, everything was perfectly all right, the stars all hung where they should and his heartbeat set the pace for the passing of time. And he felt loved. He took Tom's hand, and they left the holodeck together.

* * *

The marriage of true minds

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