Him

The sun flooded the room at Star Fleet Headquarters in San Francisco that had been my office since I had been promoted to the rank of captain.

I threw my PADD onto a table near the door, plunged into my chair, propped my feet up onto my desk, exhaled loudly and took a look around, like I did so often.

The room was big, even impressive, equipped with elegant furniture and everything one could ask for, but in the last few weeks I had begun to hate it, only because I was getting restless.

My gaze fell onto the only thing I treasured in this room, a map of our solar system. I wanted to be up there, at Jupiter station, in my ready room aboard Enterprise. Or, to be more precise, I wanted to be out in space, feeling the ship's tremors beneath my feet.

But what was going to be my ready room was still under construction, at least for the next couple of days to come and the whole ship wouldn't be ready for the next six to eight weeks.

I couldn't wait to take command, to do what my father had only been able to dream about. I closed my eyes, recalling my most precious memories of me and my dad, working together on a model of the NX-01.

"Cap'n!"

I nearly dropped out off my chair as the door to my office opened without a warning and a blond man came storming into the room, not waiting for the panel to slide away completely.

"Cap'n!" he repeated, trying to catch his breath.

The face of Commander Charles Tucker III, my chief engineer, was flushed, his hair in disarray, his uniform sweat-stained.

"What is it, Trip?" I asked, my voice filled with laughter. "What's so important that it doesn't allow the use of the communicator?"

The young Southerner gulped in a deep breath of air. "He was there! They told me he's been aboard the ship!"

I wrinkled my forehead. "Who has been aboard the ship?"

He perched onto the edge of my desk. "The Brit!"

Now his outburst started to make sense. "Oh, you mean our tactical officer!"

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed had been due to arrive the day before but his plane had been delayed and he hadn't been sure when he would be able to report to me.

The fact that he had visited the ship first didn't really fit into his profile, I had been told that his sense of duty was overwhelming.

But on the other hand I had also been told that his obsession for weapons exceeded even that deep sense of obligation. It seemed his anxiety to see Enterprise's armory had been pretty big. I liked that.

Something dawned in the back of my head.

"Trip, ... where have you been when he visited the ship? Shouldn't you have been there to show him around? As my second in command? I thought we had arranged that yesterday, just in case."

His jaw dropped and he blushed. "Well ... uhm ... I ..."

I had to suppress a grin and sighed theatrically. "Ruby?"

The blond Southerner blushed. "Ru..., oh yes, Ruby!" He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Cap'n!"

I shook my head. So his ragged appearance wasn't to blame on him working so hard but on the waitress of the 602 Club working him so hard.

I sniggered. "You are unbelievable!"

He got more confident again. "Well, I've got to use every opportunity I can get, Cap'n! God knows when we will get back here and when I will be able to ... ya know!"

We grinned at each other and I cleared my throat.

"Back to business! Did they tell you where he went?"

My best friend shook his head. "Unfortunately he didn't tell them. But I guess that Headquarters would be the next place for him to go!"

As if on cue the door bell chimed.

My feet flew off my desk, I sat up straight and Trip snapped to attention.

"Come in!" I almost barked, having been caught off guard.

When the panel slid aside Trip and I stared at the man entering my office.

I had seen pictures of the Englishman but they didn't do him justice.

His dark hair was neatly groomed and it glistened in the afternoon sun falling through the windows, his lively gray eyes were focused on me, occasionally darting to Trip.

He stood perfectly straight, his arms crossed behind his back. He was of medium height and perfectly proportioned, though not impressively muscled.

One wouldn't think that this was one of the most dangerous men Star Fleet had to offer, his expertise in martial arts and hand-to-hand-combat was unmatched in the entire fleet, his knowledge in any kind of weapons was amazing.

That's why I had wanted him on my team.

"Lieutenant Reed!"

His heels snapped together, he stood even straighter and looked me directly in the eye. "Captain Archer, Sir! Reporting for duty, Sir!"

I suppressed a grin. An officer at his best. A gorgeous officer at his best. "At ease, Mr Reed!"

He relaxed only marginally.

I walked around the desk. "Lieutenant, may I introduce you to Commander Charles Tucker III, our chief engineer?"

"Who should have been there this morning to welcome you!" I added through clenched teeth, only audible for my best friend.

Trip winced and shook the Brit's outstretched hand. "Pleased to meet ya!"

The lieutenant nodded shortly. "It's my pleasure, Sir!"

I bit my lip in order not to chuckle. That accent was really cute.

"Well, Lieutenant, I've been told that you have already inspected the armory."

He blushed a little. It suited him. "Yes, Sir! I'm sorry, Sir! I thought you would be aboard, Sir! So I went there first, Sir!"

All those sirs made my head spin a little and I grinned. "Well, you are here now and we can talk about the important stuff."

I looked at my chief engineer who clearly wanted to stay for the briefing. "Don't you have another ... appointment at the 602 Club?! Leave, Trip, that's an order!"

My best friend smirked and headed for the door. "Acknowledged, Cap'n! See ya around, Lieutenant!"

The Brit just shortly dipped his head in the Southerner's direction. I stepped behind my desk, sat down and looked at the officer in front of me.

"Now, Lieutenant, let's talk shop ..."

* * *

I stood at the dispenser in the mess hall, enjoying the noise and the hustle all around me. Dinner in a cramped place full of enthusiastic space explorers was so much fun.

"Milk, cold!" I said loud and clear and watched as the white liquid streamed into my glass.

I nipped at it and thought about how to get hold of a piece of Chef's pecan pie, I had heard he had baked a few but obviously all of them were gone.

Looking around I became painfully aware of my fellow crewmates happily munching away at my favorite dessert.

For a moment I seriously thought about sneaking into the galley to have a look if there were by pure chance a few leftovers but the memory of Chef's sharp butcher knives made me reconsider very quickly.

Someone behind me giggled and I, curious as I was, turned around to see what was going on, always hoping to catch up with the latest gossip.

Two female crewmembers, both of them assigned to my engineering team, were sitting together at a nearby table, their heads put together conspiratorially.

"And have you seen the way he stares at him? It's so cute! He always reminds me of Porthos with those gleaming puppy eyes!" the blonde, Crewman Davis, said.

I stepped a little closer, trying to keep my eavesdropping as concealed as I could. This was the kind of rumor I loved to hear - and to spread, for that matter.

The brunette, Ensign Sharp, grinned broadly. "If the captain's eyes were loose in his head they would be popping out of their sockets every time the lieutenant comes his way! But you're right, it's really cute! I wish he would look at me that way, I wouldn't be as coy and shy as Malcolm is!"

They burst out laughing and I almost choked on my milk. 'Son of a bitch!' I couldn't believe it! Jon, my best friend, ... gay? And in love with Malcolm?

This had to be the first time I obviously hadn't noticed something serious like this concerning my best friend. I of all people aboard should have been able to read the signs considering the fact that ...

I sighed. If it was true then he had kept it to himself pretty good and I was not going to let him get away with it!

My communicator chirped into action. "Archer to Commander Tucker!"

"Go ahead Cap'n!"

"Care to join me in the captain's mess? I was able to get you a piece of your beloved pecan pie!"

"Sure! Hang a sec, I'm already outside the door! Tucker out!"

I pushed the button and the panel opened, revealing a grinning Captain Jonathan Archer, holding out a plate filled with pecan pie. "Tada!"

I took a deep breath. Knowing Jon I knew that the direct approach would be the best.

"Tada indeed! Why have ya never told me that ya're in love with Malcolm? And while we're on the subject, why have ya never told me ya're gay?"

The door slid close behind us. My best friend stared at me, his eyes wide open, a look of total astonishment and embarrassment on his face. At that moment I knew it was true.

I quickly took the plate he was holding, afraid he might drop my favorite dessert, and put it on the table.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Trip?"

I stood in front of him, grinding my fist into my hips, spreading my legs shoulder-wide, dipping my head mockingly to one side, shooting him an accusing glance.

"Come on, Jon, ..."

My best friend blushed and smiled sheepishly. "Well, to be honest ... I'm surprised you haven't asked me earlier! You've always been able to read me like a book, haven't you?"

I raised my eyebrows. I wasn't planning on telling him that it had taken members of my team to push my nose onto it.

"Well, ya were pretty good at keepin' in under wraps. But it's not like I'm blind or somethin'!"

'Yeah, right!' I thought to myself.

"And then there's the fact that I have heard crewmembers tellin' stories about how they have seen ya goin' all moon-eyed and dreamy whenever Malcolm's around and when ya think nobody notices!"

Jonathan gaped at me. "What?"

I went over to the table and patted on the chair next to me. "Now sit down and finally answer my questions, Cap'n! Since when d'ya prefer men and when did ya fall for our armory officer?"

* * *

I sat down next to my best friend and I knew my eyes were beginning to sparkle, butterflies were roaming my stomach and my heart beat faster.

"I've always been attracted to men, Trip." I saw him swallow.

"It's just ... well, this is a pretty important job I have and there are still some really conservative people in Star Fleet."

"Tell me about it!" he murmured. "But why didn't ya tell me?"

I blushed. "You? The straight-as-an-arrow-where-is-the-next-girl Southern charmer? I don't mean to be rude but I never thought you'd understand!"

Again Trip swallowed.

"Can you believe that there even was a time when I was desperately in love with you?!" Chuckling I looked at him and paused.

It had seemed like he had been about to say something but he closed his mouth again and just stared at me. I decided to drop that subject, he didn't seem to feel comfortable with it.

When I went on talking I heard my own voice like in a dream. "You wanna know when I knew I loved him? I can tell you exactly when I realized I felt so much more for Malcolm than just friendship and loyalty, Trip!

It was down on Terra Nova. It was so easy! Those eyes, Trip, those eyes the color of the stormy sea! I can't begin to describe what I felt when he looked at me, telling me to leave him behind even though he was in pain and clearly needed medical attention. He never puts himself in front of anything!

I can't stop thinking of him since then. I hadn't been able to stop thinking about him before that as well, to tell you the truth he's been on my mind ever since he stepped into my office in San Francisco that day, but I never admitted that to myself until then."

* * *

I stepped under the shower in my bathroom, enjoying the warm water on my skin and enjoying thinking about Lieutenant Malcolm Reed ... my tactical officer, my chief of security ... and the man I had desperately fallen in love with.

I had never made it an issue that I cared for our tactical officer, the Englishman was so endearing in his own special way that it was easy to fall for him even though I suspected that he didn't know.

He was our rock, our backup and his first obligation was to the security of the ship and the crew. He thought of himself as less important than that.

When he was off duty, just the plain British guy, he changed only minimally.

He was totally loyal to his friends and he didn't find companions easily because he expected the same from them and was often disappointed.

I think I could call him my friend and I would have been very happy to be able to call him my lover, but I knew how sensible he felt about fraternizing with the crew. The fact that I was his superior officer didn't make it any easier.

Telling Trip about Malcolm had felt good, I hadn't let myself talk about him to anyone but Porthos and even though my beagle was a well trained listener I often missed the dialogue.

Trip had listened intently, he had asked about little things and I had been able to think about so many things that chained me to my British tactical officer.

I leaned against the wall, the plating cold on my back and I sighed.

Trip ... There had been a time when I would have given everything to be more than just a friend for him. But I had realized right from the beginning that I had no chance.

He kept on bragging about all the girls he knew and finally I had settled into the close platonic relationship we now had and I felt confident with it.

* * *

The comm system chimed. "Come in!"

Jonathan Archer stepped into my quarters, head bowed low, eyes on the ground, hands shoved deep down into the pockets of his uniform.

The door closed and he looked at me. I knew that expression on his face, I had seen it far too often lately. "Oh no, not again?"

He grumbled quietly. "I'm sorry, Trip!"

I took a deep breath, sat down on the bed and slapped on the bedspread next to me. "Come here!"

The dark haired Californian slumped down and leaned against my chest. Reluctantly I pushed him away. "What's it this time?"

His green eyes glistened sadly. "Nothing special, Trip! I just feel so ... so empty! I don't want to be alone!"

I sighed inaudibly. 'Tell me about it!' I thought to myself.

It was a quarter past midnight and I knew the captain had just finished another shift with our tactical officer. In the last few weeks Jon's late night calls had multiplied.

His feelings for the Brit and his problems with him were getting in his way more and more recently and he knew it.

"D'ya wanna talk about it?"

He shook his head. "What is there to talk about? Malcolm is so comprised in his own little world that there is no way for me to make him understand, no matter how much I want to!"

He leaned against me again and this time I let him. I knew he needed reassurance, someone who cared.

He came running to me when he couldn't handle it anymore. Because I was his friend. Because he knew I would be there. Because he could tell me the things he couldn't tell anybody else.

"Jon, ya need to talk to him, not to me! Ya know how he is! Ya two are so different in that point of view, he just can't let his feelings show."

The captain glanced at me, his eyes clouded and he unnoticeably shook his head.

So I did the only thing I could do, the thing I had done repeatedly in the last few days. I was there when he needed to be silent and I was there when he needed to talk, until he fell asleep in my arms.

* * *

When I opened my eyes in the morning he still lay there beside me.

Jon's breathing was regular, his face had grown calm and he had one arm wrapped possessively around my waist. But I knew in reality it wasn't me he was holding.

"Cap'n!" I gently nudged his shoulder.

He just murmured incoherently and I thought I had heard him whispering Malcolm's name.

"Jon!"

This time he opened his eyes.

"What?" he mumbled, his voice slurry.

I had to smile. "Ya need to get up! I think ya have an appointment with T'Pol in twenty minutes and I need to be at my station at about the same time."

He just nodded, stood up, looked down his body and tucked the crumpled uniform into place.

"I think I'll better change into a new one, these things just aren't made for sleeping in!"

He pushed the button to open my door. "Thanks for listening and being there, Trip!"

He shot me that little half smile of his and stepped into the corridor.

* * *

I walked to my quarters in order to get into a new uniform. Spending the night with Trip had felt good, having someone near, holding me tight had been just what I needed. And maybe he was right, maybe I needed to talk to Malcolm.

I was just about to walk into the hallway that led to E-deck when I heard familiar voices. "Come on, Mal, you've got to talk to him!"

It was Ensign Sato, my communications officer. I stopped and listened.

"I can't talk to him, Hoshi! He's my superior!" Lieutenant Reed sounded agitated.

"That's the point! Then it won't be misconduct unseemly for a Star Fleet officer! You know the ranking officer is not allowed to take the first step!"

My heart skipped a beat. Could it be they were talking about ...?

"And even if I decided to talk to him, even if I were to tell him I love him, what difference would it make? He's not interested in men!"

I swallowed.

"How can you be so sure of that?"

"Hoshi! He got impregnated by a female alien! What more proof do you need that he is straight as an arrow?! I don't stand a chance!"

I slouched against the wall and closed my eyes. All my optimism was gone. Malcolm Reed was in love with Trip.

"Morning, Captain!" Hoshi and Malcolm called out when they passed me by.

I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes and sighed.

* * *

When the door had closed behind Jon I lay back on my bed, still able to feel his firm body cuddled up to mine, still able to smell the sweet scent of his skin.

My hand wandered to the spot on my chest where my shirt was still damp from his sweaty forehead and warm from his body temperature.

If Jon only knew how much he hurt me by seeking my help.

Yes, I was his friend and yes, I wanted to ease his pain. But with him being so close to me, in my arms, talking and sleeping, I just couldn't deny what I felt for him.

All those girls had just been subterfuge, they had been little more than friends. Being gay wasn't very popular in Star Fleet and I had tried to keep it to myself.

In the last few months I had even been able to treat Jonathan like he was just my buddy, my mate. But now? One more of those nights with him in my arms and something inside of me would break.

... to be continued here