Tucker sat in darkened quarters slumped and unmoving. Although the computer turned the lights on, he immediately switched them off, feeling that darkness suited his feelings more. He stared at stars swimming in white ribbons in the cold void outside. Some of them had died already, only their light flew through the space as the last reminder of their existence.
He put his cold hands to his hot cheeks.
Their hot energy accumulated in their last breath and then they froze forever.
Tucker closed his eyes and pressed his cold fists against them. Empty void – that didn't sound that bad now; he was already cold inside - he would fit in well. One difference still, he might be cold, but not empty yet.
Everywhere he looked there seemed to be reminders of an unfinished life just waiting to be continued, cut ends that needed to be picked up and bound. And then, then there was his life with Sorro. Two lifes, yet none he could return to. It seemed like the stars weren't the only ones hanging in an empty void. He, too, couldn't go home, because he had no home. Of course he had had one, with Sorro, but that was light-years away. And before Sorro, there was something before Sorro too, but the memory seemed even more distant.
All in the past, past and only past. But there wasn't anything left of him to build any future and every passing moment he felt something inside him dissolving with nothing to replace it. The man who isn't although he lived twice.
He gulped dryly; he needed a small sip of water to swallow the lump in his throat. He forced himself to stand up and stumbled into the bathroom where he switched on a small lamp. The small space immediately bathed in shadowy mellow light. Tucker leaned on cold basin edges, filled a small glass with water and gulped it down at once.
For the first time his eyes fell on his reflection and the glass fell from his numbed fingers. This was the first time he saw his face after a long time; actually, for the first time in his second life.
He was staring at himself wide-eyed, there was something disturbing in what he saw, but he couldn't define what. What was he even supposed to see? Expected to see? Something else, definitely; the man that was watching him back would be young if not for lines of stress around his mouth and pain in his eyes.
You're watching me and I am watching you; our gazes intertwine. I could get lost in the depth of your stare. Your eyes, they don't gleam, glitter or shine – nothing but two black holes that suck everything in, even light, or me. I could get lost in you.
Would I?
You're so full of a strange pain, and stranger's lust. You are less than mine shadow. And yet, you stand here gazing at me and your hollow greedily-sucking stare fills me with terrible fear. If you were I, would I hate you?
Repelling and compelling at the same time. What makes you hurt like that?
God help me if you are residing within me; then I can't live with me, nor leave.
Tucker stepped away from the mirror aghast. Broken shards under his feet scarped under his weight. The sound made his skin crawl. He slowly, thoughtfully dropped his gaze to look at them. He could make out their faintly glinting sharp edges; some bigger shards and many, many small glassy splinters glistening like irregular pearls. Just to lean down, one short slash and the man who wasn't will be quickly a man who wouldn't be.
Suddenly a hand landed on his shoulder and a breath ghosted over his ear. "Archer to Phlox, I found him in his quarters. He is fine."
Tucker flinched. He hadn't heard anyone entering. He looked away from his reflection to Archer's covered in shadows. The captain's face was strained, but he appeared…relieved.
Archer stepped closer cautiously, his hand not leaving Tucker's shoulder. "I thought Phlox told you not to leave Sickbay, Trip."
In a shocked trance Tucker mumbled faintly, "He did."
Archer gently prodded him. "Come back then."
Tucker obeyed dumbly following the captain out of the quarters where Reed was waiting in the hallway. The lieutenant stood seemingly at ease, but his hand hovered close to his phaser and his eyes very cautious. Tucker felt a short supporting squeeze where Archer's forgotten hand lay.
When they came to the Sickbay door, Tucker's steps were become sluggish and reluctant: He had attacked a Phlox, struck him into unconsciousness and every crime follows a punishment. When he mustered the nerve to enter Sickbay, he was welcomed by choking silence. With his eyes cast on the floor he didn't dare to look up at the Denobulan doctor awaiting him, rather staring on his boots instead. Neither Archer nor Reed in his tow spoke.
Slowly, he finally allowed his gaze to slide from the shoes to the doctor's face. To his surprise, Phlox was wearing a slightly crooked, yet reassuring small smile.
"Mister Tucker, I am glad you found your way back here," doctor's voice was toned and Tucker thankfully accepted that Phlox generously omitted the fact that he found his way to Sickbay only with Archer's and Reed's help.
Surprised and emotionally tired, he didn't manage more than a slow nod.
"Please, have a seat so we can take a look at what happened."
Before he could awake from his mental numbness or even move, Phlox was ushering him onto the nearest biobed and sliding around him with a tricoder.
Suddenly his hands folded in his lap began shaking slightly. Tucker watched them for a moment with genuine surprise and then firmly intertwined his fingers together to stop it. It didn't help; instead his whole body began shivering. Archer standing a few paces away inhaled sharply.
"No worries, gentlemen. It's only adrenaline wearing off. It should disappear in a moment," Phlox commented confidently still studying his tricoder intently.
"So what is the verdict?" the worried captain was getting impatient.
"I can give you only my opinion at the moment. We have nothing to go by, as you know."
Archer's eyebrows rose. Reed straightened, "You are the expert." His words were more clipped than usually, betraying his concern.
"Mister Tucker can you explain what you felt before you attacked me?"
Tucker's gaze fell, he replied reluctantly. "I felt like I needed to get out of here immediately. When you denied, I felt angry."
"Are you still angry?"
"No!" Tucker's vehement denial left no room for doubts about the earnestness of his words.
"And I believe you. Before you attacked me, your biobed recorded wild swing in your blood pressure, heart rate and I am sure we would also find changes in your chemical compositions. These...mood-swings are a result of your system adjusting to all changes."
"So they are only a symptom of getting better?" Archer inquired incredulously.
"As a matter of fact, I believe, they are," Phlox chirped. Reed only shook his head and sighed. "Should I post guards in case this repeats?"
Phlox tilted his head a moment, weighing his trust against his own security. "I don't think it's necessary. Now we know the warning signs and the chemistry is steadily improving. It's likely that mister Tucker'll be a little cranky at most, but not aggressive."
Archer took Phlox' decision with a dismayed frown and Tucker's doubtful stare didn't raise anyone's confidence much."It's all in your hands doctor, if anything happens, inform me."
Archer snorted when he realized just how disconcerted he was. He used to be quite temperamental, but he hoped that with experience his wild streak got a little milder. The recent occurrences however seemed to prove him wrong.
Archer snorted again and turned on his side in his bed. It was past twelve and in seven hours his shift was due. If he didn't fall asleep soon, he would be very cranky. He closed his eyes again and tried to relax his breathing into regular deep breaths, but it worked only rarely and he knew that this doomed night wasn't of the lucky ones.
After a few fake deep breathes, Archer threw away his cover resolutely and crawled out of the bed. Either he'd visit Phlox, ask for a shot and get as much sleep as possible, or someone would be chewed so thoroughly in the morning they'd wish they were never born.
Hopefully Phlox didn't give Trip a hard time with his examination. If his two gregarious friends something in common, it was their boundless fascination with new phenomena within their expertise. It wouldn't surprise him all too much if Phlox unwittingly held Tucker still up, with the thought getting up seemed more acceptable.
When Archer dragged into Sickbay, he was welcomed by a snort followed by a dry laugh.
"You look like a marine!"
"I look like a goat! I only wanted it a little shorter!"
With two long strides Archer got to a medical curtain and tore it open. The view that presented itself was funny, in a way: Tucker was sitting with a blanket tied around his neck. Over him was standing Reed with a pair of scissors and everywhere around them were small balls of blond hair. Both men flinched almost guiltily at Archer's harsh interruption.
"Ouch! Careful with the scissors, you grazed my ear!" Turning his head Tucker complained, ignoring furious Archer coldly.
"Lieutenant, what are you doing here?" Archer barked. Reed immediately stiffened into attention, scissors in his hand forgotten.
"I was cutting Commander Tucker's hair," he replied briskly.
"Mister Tucker has been temporarily stripped of his rank." That got Tucker's attention too, both men stiffened. Archer continued. "Were you stripped of it too, Lieutenant?"
"No, sir!" Reed pushed through his clenched teeth.
"Correct me if I am wrong, but you have a morning shift." It wasn't a question, yet an answer was expected, so Reed nodded mutely.
"We had Sulibans on an intercept course only a day ago. There is still a chance we'll meet them. If there is a collision, you'd better be well rested." Archer's words were laser sharp, just like his voice. From the corner of his eye Reed could see as Tucker huffed and breathed in deeply to retort something spicy, but before any arguments, insults or expletives could leave his mouth, Reed cut them off both. "Certainly, sir! I haven't expected to extend my visit for so long."
"Dismissed," Archer cocked his head and considered the response, then growled.
"Aye, sir." Reed was about to leave, when gaping Tucker finally exploded.
"Dismissed?" he bristled.
Reed, who was about to leave, quickly turned back, "Trip," he warned, but Tucker only shot him a warning look and concentrated his temper back on Archer. "I called Malcolm to help me and you come here and, and…! Who do you think you are?" Tucker jumped up striding past Archer to Malcolm at the door resolutely, when Phlox' carefully measured voice stopped him. "You shouldn't leave, Commander." They were all so engaged in their fight they didn't notice when the doctor, who had been alarmed by their raised voices, appeared.
Tucker stopped just short of Sickbay door, his face a hard mark of grim determination. However, Phlox' hard stare wouldn't yield either clearly saying he would use any means necessary to keep his patient here.
For a second Tucker's gaze flickered between Archer and Phlox, then finally landed on Reed, who ever so slightly shook his head. Frowning Tucker squared his shoulders defiantly and he briskly strode past Archer back to his biobed, landing on it heavily.
With his goal achieved, Phlox had no intentions to compete in the battle of wills any further and retreated into the back of Sickbay again.
Archer's eyes didn't leave Tucker, who returned the stare stonily. Finally, the captain gave up and gritted between his teeth, "Keep me posted, Doctor."
"Certainly." Phlox replied in a subdued tone.
Archer walked out of Sickbay purposefully, without his medication and with his night-sleep ultimately stolen. He couldn't imagine how his life could become even more complicated. Exploring deep space was often demanding enough, the last thing he needed were heated arguments with his chief engineer, former best friend, and his armory officer. How could he ever believe that after retrieving Tucker, a long medium-heated lecture about carefulness on strange planets would be enough to settle everything back to fine? Instead he found out that his best male friend was sleeping with an alien guy on a God forsaken planet, soon after the named best friend made a pass on him and after that his relatively organized life became such a rollercoaster, that his turbulent adolescent years appeared completely harmless.
Archer finally got into his quarters and gladly lay down, because even the ceiling was spinning. To say that he felt like someone had roughly pulled a rug from under his feet seemed like the understatement of the year.
With sick fascination he clinically examined his feelings. Angry? A lot! Frustrated? Like hell! Betrayed? Oh, yes.
The vehemence of Tucker's refusal of his presence was abashing; of course, minus the moment when he tried to seduce him to gain his trust and attempt an escape later.
It was hurtful how simply the ten years of their close friendship were forgotten, how easily Tucker turned to Malcolm Reed.
Archer frowned. Naturally that wasn't that new, he had noticed the growing closeness between the two officers for the first time after the Shuttlepod incident. There certainly transpired much more, than their reports said, but he had never found out what. Whatever it was, thanks to Tucker's outgoing character, Reed started melting a little towards the crew, so he let it slide, but now, now he wished he hadn't.
During their argument in Sickbay Reed kept a strictly professional facade, but when Tucker intercepted, he was surprised.
Archer sat up abruptly. Was it possible that Reed didn't expect the defense? The longer he rolled the incident around in his head, the more probable it seemed.
Archer clenched his fists; he messed up, badly. He behaved like an idiot because of a whim! He found the worst possible vent for his frustration, not only he angered Reed, but Tucker was downright furious.
You'd better swallow your pride or you're going to choke on it, Archer!
Right at breakfast he would apologize. He had to!
The plan was good, it had certain elegance and it failed before it even started. When Archer woke up in the morning with his eyes achy and sore, it was not to his alarm clock, but to his com.
"T'Pol to Captain Archer, please respond."
Archer flinched and tried to scramble out of his bed quickly. Too late did he realize his foot was caught in tangled sheets and soon he was flying off his bed nose first.
"T'Pol to Captain Archer, please respond."
Archer scrambled up painfully. "I am coming, I am coming," he grumbled.
He finally got to the com. "Archer here." He was amazed how much dignity he was able to squeeze into his voice.
If T'Pol's sensitive senses caught any of his distress, she didn't betray it. "Captain, you were due on you duty ten minutes ago, is there a problem?"
"No, no problems. I am at the bridge in a moment." He cut her off hastily before she could ask any more questions and quickly got dressed. So much for his planned apology.
When he entered the bridge, he felt all eyes on him. Luckily, T'Pol spared him of any questions since his tousled appearance probably said it all, so she merely stood up from the captain's chair.
"Hold it there for a moment longer, please," he halted her. Then he turned to Reed, who was watching him from his post with a carefully blank expression.
"May I have a word with you, Lieutenant?" Archer motioned towards the Ready room.
Reed shrugged slightly and Archer secretly hoped he was as apt at hiding his feelings as his officer, but probably not, because he felt stares following them until the doors swooshed closed behind them.
Once in, Reed remained standing stiffly at the table.
"Please, sit down," Archer offered nervously and moved to take the opposite chair. He hoped it would make them more relaxed, but even when Reed complied, his coldness remained firmly in place. Archer swallowed audibly.
"Lieutenant….Malcolm, I'd like to talk about yesterday."
Reed sagged a little and cut him off. "There's no need, sir. I understand you've been under considerable pressure."
Archer blinked in shock. "But, I wanted to…"
"As I said, I understand you completely."
It was almost not to stomach, court Malcolm Reed cut him off twice in one minute. "That is very considerate, Malcolm. I'd like you to accept my invitation to the movie night with dinner in my mess."
Archer felt air leaving his lungs; suddenly, the whole dinner idea seemed very lame. He breathed a sigh of relief, when Reed retorted hesitantly: "That is acceptable, but you should ask Trip as well. He was really upset after you left."
How did Reed gotten the privilege of calling Tucker by his nickname, especially now? "I don't think he would even let me ask."
"Ask him. Dinner in three, it's been a long time since we've had one." Reed even smiled a bit tightly, which was more than Archer was hoping for. What a victory! As if reading his mind once again, Reed suggested, "You could try asking him now, I am sure we can spare you another moment on the bridge."
"Oh, I think I have messed up enough for today. I'll go after the shift," he decided.
But the shift dragged long, long and much longer, Archer grumbled in his head anxiously. But it came to its end, finally and retreating Reed gave him an almost invisible encouraging smile.
"T'Pol, please. Where is Commander Tucker?"
The Vulcan raised her eyebrows, but called up the information on her monitor. "Mister Tucker is in Sickbay."
Archer ignored her forceful implication of Tucker's civilian status. He hoped that they could return to the rank addressing soon enough.
In Sickbay he was welcomed by Phlox and Tucker playing checkers with Tucker decidedly winning.
When Tucker didn't acknowledge him, Archer coughed politely.
"Please, Doctor, can I have a word with…" he loosely gestured towards the man, who was gazing at him coldly.
"Of course, Captain. Mister Tucker stripped me of all desserts anyway," Phlox joked and passing the captain, he whispered. "Please, no blood."
Archer patted him on the shoulder, but smiled uneasily. Facing open animosity glaring from Tucker's whole posture, suddenly apologizing didn't seem so easy at all.
Well, politeness could never damage anything. "May I sit?"
Tucker remained passive, just staring at him. "I spoke with Malcolm in the morning. I asked him if he felt like going to the movies."
Tucker cocked his head. "Is that your apology?" he snarled.
"Yes. And he accepted both my apology and my invitation." To his relief, Tucker nodded briefly and some of his tension eased, so Archer quickly continued before he chickened out. "I thought…I wondered if you'd come too. It's been a long time since we spent some quality time together."
"Malcolm's coming then?"
"Yes." Archer nodded vigorously; he felt he was getting somewhere.
"Ok. I'll come then. When do we meet?"
"Come around my quarters," Archer suggested before Tucker could change his mind. It didn't seem necessary though – after he straightened the matters between himself and Reed, Tucker seem willing to establish some balance between them again
Later, when Archer, still dazed and in awe how good everything had gone, returned to his quarters, he realized he didn't have nearly as much time as he'd wish. His quarters looked more or less presentable, because there was always the chance of someone coming around for captain's advice. He just collected a few datapads placed on all horizontal surfaces, expecting his attention, and stacked them into his drawer, so everything looked even better.
Tonight, he wanted everyone relaxed and so there couldn't be anything even remotely reminding of work.
A few shirts quickly followed by his uniform flew into the clothes disposer and he picked a few items of clean civilian clothing; he opted for jeans, a t-shirt and his favorite dark blue sweater – all well preserved. It was his favorite attire he used to wear to conquests at 602 – definitely comfortable and confidence lifting- he would need that.
With the stack of clothing prepared he walked into shower; after the sweat-breaking conversations, passing on it wasn't an option. Heavy thoughts were following him even there though. He shaved and after a short consideration even brushed his teeth, again.
He just finished dressing and wanted to dry his hair again properly when his doorbell chimed. Archer frowned and checked his chronometer; he only hoped it wasn't anyone in dire need of captain's advice. He threw the prepared sweater around his neck and hurried to open. To his surprise, the door revealed Tucker and Phlox.
Tucker was dressed in some simple clothes, not in Sickbay attire, what could only mean that Phlox allowed him to go into his quarters to get dressed, probably going with him the whole way to keep his patient from harm. The idea was slightly amusing and touching, but from Tucker's expression spoke more of harassment.
Tucker marched by Archer and then turned to Phlox. "See. I am here," he grumbled. "You can let me in captain's capable hands; I am not jumping out of the airlock."
Archer smirked, if Tucker called his hands capable, then Phlox must have driven him up the wall the whole day. The doctor smiled one of his incredibly wide smiles. "Very well, Captain, when you plan to return Mister Tucker back into my capable hands, please comm. me."
Archer nodded dumbly and Phlox satisfied left.
Once the doctor was gone, Tucker didn't appear so self-confident at all.
"You are a little early." To his defense, it was the first thing that came to Archer's blank mind, when Tucker grimaced briefly, he regretted the words instantly, so he quickly gestured towards a chair. "Malcolm isn't here yet, so we have a few moments together."
Tucker nodded shortly and settled into the chair tiredly. Archer quickly resumed drying his hair. "I wanted to give the Chef our wish list, but I wasn't sure if you aren't on a special diet or don't have a special wish."
It seemed his weight was a good topic, because Tucker breathed out briefly and it occurred to Archer that maybe Tucker was just as nervous to give them a good new start as he was.
"Phlox is trying to bring my weight up," Tucker waved dismissively with his hand, but Archer couldn't agree more with the doctor: Tucker really looked thinner, not in sickly or fragile way, but with his eating habits in crisis, they will have to keep an eye on him so the recuperation didn't get unnecessarily prolonged.
"Reed to Captain Archer," Reed's voice from the communicator interrupted them.
Tucker raised an eyebrow. "An emergency?"
"I don't think so." Archer stiffly walked over to the comm. "Archer here. What's going on Malcolm?"
A slightly raspy voice responded. "I am sorry, sir. I can't come to our dinner. I feel like I am going down with something. Please, dine without me."
Tucker stood up concerned.
"We can set up some other date, Malcolm."
"No, Captain. Not on my account, please. Greet Trip."
"I am here," Tucker interjected. "Do you need anything?"
A raspy laugh from the other end screeched in their ears. "I am fine, Trip. Nothing a tea and warm bed wouldn't cure. Have fun on the movies," They could almost hear the man smile, before he cut the communication. "Reed out."
The room silenced, Archer looked uncertainly at Tucker; he didn't want to make Tucker feel uncomfortable, but to his relief, Tucker casually sat down looking around.
Archer noticed, ho he shivered slightly. "Should I warm up a little?" It was a rhetorical question because he was already adjusting the temperature a few degrees.
"I will take a moment, so you better sit on the bed, it's more comfortable. The chair always gives me a crick in the neck."
Tucker noted how easily Archer said it, like it was a quite usual thing. But of course it was normal; he had sat there before, many times. Yet this time, it was different, they didn't want it to be different. Tucker hesitated for a moment and casually moved to sit on the bed.
"Be right back, then we better go and snatch us some good places." With the explanation Archer disappeared in the small bathroom.
Tucker smiled slightly at the enthusiasm emanating from Archer and relaxed a bit leaning at the headboard. The bed was soft and nice, the warm air from heaters was making him drowsy.
Tucker cracked his eyes open – when did they even close? He blinked sleepily, the captain was still in the bathroom…
When Archer emerged from the bathroom only a few moments after he disappeared in it, he found Tucker sliding against the headboard breathing softly and regularly. He must have been really tired to fall asleep the moment he left the room for a few seconds, Archer thought as he sat down to his computer. Tucker didn't even stir a bit. Daily reports were his program then. The stack was getting a little too high anyway.
Archer glanced at dozing Tucker and felt something in him go softer; it wasn't so long when Tucker wouldn't trust Archer enough to let him out of sight, let alone sleep in the same room.
Archer activated the first report- from Armory, gazed at it a second, then put it back to the stack and got up to cover Tucker with a blanket. He gently took the sleeping man by his shoulders and slowly lowered him into a more comfortable position, watching his face for any sign of discomfort, but it remained peaceful and without the lines of disdain that were etched into it in the last days. It was a miraculous change, Archer thought. After a moment or even a few minutes he straightened up, he didn't even realize he had leant so close to have a look. His neck cracked in protest and he suddenly felt tired and old. He sighed, old or not, the reports needed to be signed, so he got into work.
Around the midnight, Tucker for the first time as much as stirred. He lifted his head slightly and with bleary eyes and voice hoarse with sleep he asked, "Shouldn't we go to the movie already?"
Archer grinned good-naturedly at his sleepy friend. "Nah. Go to sleep." He thought that Tucker would gladly obey, but he sat up instead. "But you wanted to go so much," he drawled drowsily.
"You can sleep, the movie is already over," Archer soothed him pushing him gently back into sleeping position.
At that, Tucker relented back into the covers. With his face burrowed in the pillow, he mumbled, "I am sorry."
"No need to, we will download it later," Archer smiled, but Tucker probably hadn't even heard that, for he was asleep already.
When Tucker slowly surfaced back to full conscience, he was slightly disoriented and overwhelmed by unfamiliar sensations. His mind was slowly and lazily floating in peace as he registered small sensations: soft scent, warm air, silence. The scent was comforting and familiar. He opened his eyes and found himself gazing at grey-blue ceiling – Starfleet standard, he was on Enterprise. Still confused he let his feet off the bed, when he made a contact with something warm that grunted at the touch. Tucker peeked over the edge and immediately all sleep cleared away when he exclaimed. "Jon!"
"Trip, you are stepping on me!" The captain growled deeply.
Tucker lifted his feet jerkily. He watched with horror as Archer sat up and grumbled. "You shouldn't have woken me."
"Yes, but you should have woken me! What about the movie?"
"You woke once and were pretty out of it when I spoke to you."
"I don't remember it," Tucker admitted reluctantly.
Archer grinned and sat next to Tucker. "It's okay. If you want to see the movie so much, we can download it from the database and watch it here."
Archer was frankly surprised when Tucker's eyes lit up with a genuine smile.
"Name the time. I'll be there."
Archer didn't realize just how close they were until he felt the air of the last word brush his neck warmly. Before his brain could catch up with this realization, Tucker reached out and touched the bruise on his jaw. "This was me."
Archer froze suddenly unsure what to do; then he looked into Tucker's eyes and grasped: Trip Tucker was touching him, because he wanted to. The fingers slid a little awkwardly, brushing the bruise and Archer winced. Tucker's fascinated eyes narrowed in contemplative sympathy.
"It's okay…it doesn't hurt…anymore. At least…most of the time," Archer tried lamely still gazing into Tucker's eyes, but the words immediately lost their meaning in the tense vacuum between them as if they never existed. Still touching his face and gazing straight into his eyes, Tucker leaned closer, tilted his head slightly and delicately licked Archer's upper lip.
Archer sucked in a breath and Tucker moved a little away to give him the chance to escape, as if it was still possible. Archer put his hands to the side of Tucker's face and then brought the man closer to kiss him thoroughly. It wasn't filled with the raw intensity he had experienced when Tucker kissed him the first time. This kiss wasn't fuelled forcefully, it was needy, yet hesitant - almost nostalgic. Archer opened his eyes slowly to see only brilliant blue - Tucker's eyes were shimmering slightly.
"Trip, I don't want to be a replacement," he whispered moving away a bit. This sentence could destroy everything he had just found and the thought twisted his insides, but then Tucker smiled softly, almost insecurely and Archer realized just how much did his Trip lose on Keira II. He embraced his loved into an unresisted hug and whispered into his ear.
"Please. Stay."
At the plea he felt Tucker lean into the embrace and bittersweet pleasure of hard-fought battles that never feels like victory overcame him when Tucker laid his head on his shoulder and whispered. "OK."
Archer tightened the embrace and with immense pleasure he nuzzled Tucker's slightly spiky blonde hair. Tucker raised his head to look at him, affection smoothing his features, then he kissed him briefly and let Archer continue the kiss, reveling in its ember. , because it was all he could give at the moment.
It was so different, Archer realized, so different from any embrace with Tucker - the body in his arms was slighter, less defined, the man more insecure than ever, the mere thought of it was squeezing his heart tightly.
When they parted, Tucker rested his brow on Archer's shoulder, his nape tensed. Archer slowly slid his palms over the man's back and found more tensed muscles.
"Trip, are you all right?"
His worries probably seeped into his voice because Tucker snuggled into the crook of his neck and murmured. "It's just a headache." It seemed as violation, to end their first kiss like this, but Archer's protectiveness immediately won over.
"Come, we'll go to Phlox." He made an attempt to stand up, but Tucker held him down.
"I don't need to visit Sickbay with every small pain."
"I should have brought you back already yesterday, Phlox must check you out anyway," Archer insisted carefully, but persistently.
"I am fine." This time it was louder, with a hint of warning that Tucker's patience was wearing thin.
"Trip," Archer put a hand on his shoulder trying to get his full attention gently. "Trip, please look at me."
Tucker left the warm cocoon of the embrace and looked at Archer wearily, like he heard the arguments thousand times and couldn't bear it any more.
Archer placed his hands on Tucker's shoulders, gazing at him squarely. "If you aren't well, I worry. I know you can take care of yourself, but so much had happened. You must bear if I'm overprotective for a while."
Tucker sighed and smiled a small, pained smile that definitely made Archer itching to get him to Sickbay no matter what.
"I'm sorry, I know I am a pain in the ass."
Archer laughed shortly, but heartily. "Yes, you are. And now come to Sickbay." He punctuated his playful plea with a soft lick to Tucker's lips. "Please."
"You can be mightily convincing."
Seeing the temporary defeat in Tucker's eyes, Archer quickly got to his feet and pulled Tucker up before he could change his mind.
He ushered Tucker out of the quarters and shortest way to Sickbay. Just like he expected, Phlox was there, but by far not as anxious about the whereabouts of their commander as Archer originally feared. He merely looked up to greet his visitors. "Captain, mister Tucker, please come in. I see you had fun." The doctor winked conspiratorially and Archer blushed when he realized that their lips must be swollen.
As soon as Tucker realized the same, his face turned a deep shade of carmine, because despite appearances, Tucker was a deeply private man. If they pursued a relationship and wanted it to survive, they needed to draw lines how public it would be.
"You seem tense, Mister Tucker. What's the problem?"
"I've got a headache."
"He's got a headache." They announced unison.
Phlox smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Mister Tucker. Now we shall look for the cause."
The imaging chamber opened and the sliding bed came out.
Archer asked worried, "Imaging chamber?" In his mind a headache came together rather with a simple handscanner and a shot, not with the imaging chamber that usually served for more precise and complicated examination.
Tucker looked at Phlox with his expressive eyebrows high and settled onto the bed, leaving the explanation to the doctor.
"Mister Tucker knows the drill: every day a new image of his amazing brain. I want to document all steps of his remarkable recovery. It's a small image for him, but it can be a great leap in brain surgeries or repairing of neural pathways," Phlox explained enthusiastically while the chamber hummed and images began appearing on a screen above it. Subsequently, the machine spit Tucker out again.
"You said you have a headache, hm?"
Tucker, who sat up, nodded carefully.
"Do you experience any other discomfort?"
Archer jumped in again "Is it something bad?"
Tucker gave him an angry stare and still gazing at him pointedly, he answered the doctor. "No, nothing special."
Phlox shook his head. "I don't see the cause for your headache, but it can be something really small, I'll look a closer at all your results, but for now I'll give you an analgesic. It's weak, but should work quickly." As he spoke, the doctor filled a hypospray and injected the medicine in Tucker's neck. To Archer's relief, the stress lines etched in Tucker's face straightened a little.
"Better?"
"Yeah," Tucker smiled unconvincingly.
"Now you are free to go. I'll try to find the cause for your discomfort. If your condition worsens, come immediately to me."
Archer checked the chronometer on the wall and winced. "I must go, my shift begins in three minutes. Will you be all right?"
Tucker gave him an exasperated look to which Archer responded with a stern glare.
"I know. Overprotective. I get it," Tucker grumbled. "Go, go, I'll be just fine." That finally convinced the captain and he hurried to his shift, leaving the doctor and his patient alone.
Tucker turned to Phlox. "I'd like to have breakfast now, if you don't mind."
"I certainly don't mind, Mister Tucker. You need to work on your body maintenance. However, I can't join you, I am afraid."
Tucker remained staring, even gaping a little. "You mean…?" he didn't even dare to finish the thought.
Phlox smiled reassuringly. "That's exactly what I mean, mister Tucker. Or is Commander Tucker better? I checked your brain scans and other tests and they look very good. I need to give them one more thorough look, but I expect you to return to a light duty, for starters, tomorrow."
For a few seconds Tucker just gaped disbelieving and then relaxed into a giddy sparkling smile.
"This Commander doesn't mean you won't go to mess now and eat. Engineering needs its commanding officer, not a walking skeleton." Phlox exaggerated as usually, when he pointed at Tucker's more-than-usually trim waist. "If you don't eat and I'll cut off your personal freedom and duty in Engineering immediately."
"So you are just giving me more rope."
"Yes, I hope you won't hang yourself on it."
"So I better go and get some scrambled eggs then."
"You can add a toast and a sausage to it as well." Phlox called after him since Tucker was already on his way out.
"Hello, Trip. Where's your suite?" Reed sitting over his breakfast waved to Tucker, who was just looking for a place to sit with a tray loaded with food.
"Phlox said that I am better and probably will return to duty tomorrow," Tucker immediately shared the news before he even put the tray down.
"That's great news," Reed enthused making more space on the table.
Tucker nodded cheerfully then narrowed his gaze. "You don't seem very sick," he observed suspiciously.
"I told you it's only a one-day cold," Reed tried innocently but a small smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.
"So? What's this all about? Why didn't you come yesterday?" Tucker inquired curiously.
"A date," Reed kept his voice leveled and stoic.
Tucker almost let go of his half loaded fork. "Excuse me? You want to say you passed on a dinner with me and the captain because of a date?" His attempt to sound insulted was apparently not functioning, because he, too, was smiling too much.
Without interrupting his methodic chopping of his bacon into small stripes Reed nodded.
"I don't understand you, Malcolm."
Reed just grinned at that. For a moment Tucker played with his food, pushing it around the plate thoughtfully. Then he coughed and started hesitantly. "You know, when I asked you to let me go," It was more of a conversational statement than a question. "You know I wanted you to, but I guess that at the same time I was afraid you'd let go."
"I haven't considered it even for a moment," Reed argued firmly.
"Yeah I know."
They both fell into heavy, contemplative silence, until Reed interjected with a teasing question. "Tell me, did you plan to flee?"
"Of course! I had it all planned up to the escape in the shuttlepod."
"You'd never have managed. I was right behind you the whole time," Reed laughed.
"No," Tucker laughed, "Probably not. And here I thought I was being stealthy."
"Oh, how was your dinner with Captain?"
"It was….fine, really fine…" Tucker murmured.
Reed flashed him a secretive, contended smile and then changed the theme. "Are you up to
a little exercises? You should put on some muscles and weight."
"I suppose it can't hurt. When do you go?" Tucker enthused while stacking his used utensils together.
"In about an hour, in gym?" Suddenly Reed seemed a little uncertain and embarrassed. "You know where the gym is, right?"
"I do remember now!" Tucker huffed. "It gets a little strange at times, though."
"In what sense?"
"Normally, when someone asks you a question or mentions a thing, you immediately either recognize it, or you don't. It doesn't work like that for me. It's like I have all memories stacked in here," Tucker tapped his temple," but it's like I need to do inventory to actually know what's there. Some things come alone, some I have to recall. I guess it's just the process of remembering…" he shrugged.
"Don't worry about it too much. In a week or two you probably won't even notice."
"Trip, having a good time?"
Tucker jerked almost letting go off his tray, he didn't notice when Archer came in.
"Doctor Phlox sent me the analysis of your last medical. He deems you fit for duty." Tucker looked at the captain worriedly, why didn't he sense any happiness? Archer should be happy for him, right? "Yeah, he told me," he stated cautiously.
"I'd like to make sure it's all right, so I asked Phlox and T'Pol to prepare an exam evaluating your professional and mental fitness," Archer said quickly.
"I see. This is your decision?" Tucker's eyes fixed on Archer's coldly.
Archer straightened, staring back unrelenting. "Yes, it was my idea. I won't let you on duty unless you don't pass. Do you agree?"
"Of course," Tucker delivered his answer without a blink.
"Then come. Phlox's waiting." Archer put a guiding hand on his shoulder.
"What, now?"
"Now is as good time as ever. It'll be over quickly."
Tucker went out into the hall like in haze, while Archer shortly told something to Reed, Tucker didn't catch what, but he turned just in time to see Reed's alarmed expression fast covered by a professional mask. Reed came up to him and patted him on shoulder. "I won't say good luck. You don't need it."
"Thanks," Tucker tried to grin, but his cheeks refused co-operation. Reed squeezed his shoulder and left in a hurry.
"No worries. You passed tens such in Starfleet," Archer said leading them to the lift. Once inside, Archer's expression melted. "I'm sorry, Trip. You know I can't play favorites. I can't afford it," the steel in his voice melted as he looked into Tucker's eyes "And I don't even need to."
Tucker gazed at the man he had kissed merely an hour or two ago confused, was it even the same man? What changed him so much? Gazing at him he realized he knew the answer: the responsibility for lives under his command. Archer smiled softly and gave him a fleeting grateful kiss on lips before the doors opened. "You'll do great, no worries."
Before Tucker could think of any response, the lift opened and they stepped out as a perfect picture of two officers heading for an exam, nothing more.
"Commander, please, come in." Tucker rolled his eyes; there probably wasn't anything on Earth, or space for the matter, that could make Phlox serious. However his jovial nature was far more embracing than astute T'Pol with a datapad standing further away.
"Sub-commander kindly helped to create the exam so it covers all areas properly."
Tucker's wrinkled his nose, Phlox made it sound like a good thing. "I also took the liberty to add a few questions to see the accessibility and function of certain brain areas, I hope you don't mind."
Archer beside him tensed, prepared to step in, but Tucker winked the question away. "Let's get this over." He grabbed the pad dutifully. "How much time do I have for
this?" It inadvertently reminded him of school.
"You've got 30 minutes for the general part, one hour for calculations."
Tucker took in the number of numerical questions and frowned.
"We took into consideration your mathematical and technical talents, Commander."
He activated the first section. Who was the creator of the Warp 5 engine? Tucker looked up from the pad sharply, was it some kind of a joke? However, the officers were ignoring his bewildered stares talking among themselves softly. His heart rate stabilized; maybe it wouldn't be such a disaster at all.
After exactly 90 minutes the pad de-activated, but it had been lying on the table for good 10 minutes anyway. T'Pol took the pad and ran an evaluating program. Against himself Tucker felt his blood pressure rise as she looked at the screen, lifted an eyebrow and passed the pad to Phlox and then the captain.
"You passed with excellent results. You were performing dissatisfactory only in literature, but I think that may have something with your general ignorance of that field rather than brain insufficiency. Congratulations."
"Brain insufficiency?" Trust it to a Vulcan to make even a praise sound like an insult.
"Yes, Sub-commander summed it up nicely," Phlox chirped as he studied the results more closely, absolutely oblivious to the sting of insult in her words. "You passed with flying colors!"
With a swell of pride Tucker turned to the captain to share his joy, but found Archer staring at him gravely. "Trip, please come with me to my Read room, now. T'Pol, please follow us." Sudden steely quality of Archer's voice was baffling and the speed of the transport too.
Archer raced down the corridors so fast that Tucker almost couldn't keep up the pace without jogging a little. Unsurprisingly T'Pol had no problems with it, though. Their strange procession was drawing attention of everyone they met. They swept over the bridge into the ready room like a tide.
"Don't disturb us unless it's critical." Archer barked, not even slowing a little or turning on his way to Ready room.
When they entered the first thing Tucker noticed was Reed waiting at them. Tucker shot him a small tight smile, but the armory officer remained impassive just like the captain and T'Pol.
"Please, Trip, sit down." Archer's request was tense; he swept his gaze at Reed and continued. "I am glad you did so well in your tests."
Tucker nodded dumbly, his gaze flickering between the officers. What was this all about?
"It also proved that you can answer a few of our questions. It is necessary you pass a security examination."
"Security examination?" Before he could burst out, Archer's stare fixed him.
"You were eight weeks in hands of an alien. No one knows Enterprise better than you do. If there is any chance we have a security breach, we need to know it."
Despite Archer's relatively mild tone, the response irked him. "You gotta be kidding me! What would he do? Shoot at us with sand?"
"Trip, there were Sulibans close, if you told anything Sorro, they may get it out of him. Were we compromised?"
"Compromised? For God's sake, Malcolm!"
Reed shrunk back as if slapped, but recovered quickly, "We need to know everything, how it started and how were you captured, what exactly happened!"
"God, you really meant this," Tucker shook his head in disbelief.
"Please, Commander, how were you captured?" Reed repeated slowly and clearly.
Tucker huffed; the whole scene had a surreal feeling. He knew that they would be asking, but this was insulting: doubts coming from his friends were like a slap that leaves the cheek raw. Instead of the process being quick and clean as it was intended no doubt, it had left a bad after taste in his mouth; he surrendered nevertheless, it was time to show everyone where his stupidity brought him.