"No regrets?" He had said it a thousand times, sometimes it was a simple statement, other times a half-hearted sigh, a cry of joy, a question. This was the first time, however that it was a plea. He had said it so many times that it had become routine, in fact it had become so mundane, not like those passion-filled moments of youth, that it was nearly indistinguishable from the amicable banter of their friendship, the evenings spent sitting on his couch with a beer and a bowl of popcorn watching water polo matches, the playful teasing on the bridge, the casual touch.

But it was different. It was the one phrase that could contain all of the undercurrent of wild emotion, so delicately restrained. It spoke to the lingering touches of false promises, the cleverly disguised innuendo, the way he could look into those blue eyes and see a reflection of his own silent prison. Every day was some cruel joke of the universe. They were given just enough to realize what they could never have. Tantalized, teased, thwarted.

But they were strong too. They were on the forefront of human exploration, representatives of their world, responsible for nearly eighty other men and women. They had to be strong, and they had become habituated to sacrifice. They would give their lives in a moment for this ship and crew, and if they could do that, then certainly laying love on the altar of exploration was a drop in bucket?

His words were met with silence. Jon closed his eyes and prayed to every god he knew of that he wouldn't do this to him. He was strong but he couldn't carry this burden alone. All the prone figure before him had to do was admit, yes, he regretted it, and it would be all over. The moments stretched on to eternity. He stepped closer, not daring to get too close. He knew that if they touched now, it would be electric. Their coming together would be as inevitable as the sun rising in the sky or the momentum of a starship moving through the void.

They had known each other for nearly ten years now, so as much as he wanted to believe that those eyelids were closed in sleep, he could not. He could almost feel the hum from that warm skin, surely in tune with the vibrations of his precious engines. He could see the flutter of the lashes, as the brilliant blue eyes they eclipsed roamed a silent inner world of doubt and longing.

He had seen this same expression a thousand times as well; when working on a difficult problem, he would close his eyes and retreat to some inner space where mathematical equations lived in sounds and colors, machinery opened its heart to the dimensions and choices were weighed on a gilded scale, reducing them to their analytical component parts, no different than a phase cannon or a flux capacitor.

It must have been a hell of a struggle for him to resort to this deep almost meditative reasoning, over his usual impulsive heart-on- my-sleeve approach.

Jon interrupted his reverie carefully, "No regrets?" His tone had escalated to blind panic now. They had said it so many times that he had ceased to worry about the consequences if he did anything other than agree. These past months it had become like a mantra. Every day they risked their lives, and every day they found themselves more distraught and hopeless. They needed love now more than ever, but it couldn't be a worse time. They were changing, becoming people governed by circumstance and perhaps destiny. Gone were the days of carefree exploration. They were protecting an entire planet now, they couldn't afford distractions or weaknesses.

Yet Jon still needed that reassurance with all of his heart. He need to hear two simple words echoed. He needed Trip to open his eyes, stare straight back at him and say, "No regrets," right back. He needed it more than anything else in the universe, so much so that his heart pounded with a desperate echo in his chest and sweat dripped slowly down his brow.

But even as he begged the universe to give him strength as secret childish part of him wished that he would disagree. Even though they were both competent leaders, Jon had always taken the lead. He knew that Trip would follow him to the end of the universe and back, if he asked, but he couldn't ask. Maybe for once, Trip would take the lead in their relationship. Part of him imagined those blue eyes opening and that taunt but supple body rising to meet him and the soft but parched lips finding his. If the two of them had managed to find and hold on to each other in a universe so riddled with chaos, than certainly it wouldn't be too much to ask to have two pairs of lips find each other. Still, that five feet between them, might as well have been a million light-years, warped by regulations and duty.

And finally, he was released from that horrible moment of anticipation, to find himself staring into two brilliant blue orbs, speaking of both longing and love. The love he saw there seemed limitless, but it obviously had limits, otherwise he would be holding the evidence in his arms at this very moment.

Jon expected words, either heartbreaking (like the thousand heartbreaks he had undergone every time one of them said those fatal words) or tragically wonderful. He might have even expected silent tears. But instead, Trip rose from the bed gingerly, his bed for only the second time in ten years, and smiled. Trip had many smiles, and Jon knew all of them. Whether he was laughing at some joke or sweet-talking some dark-haired beauty, or comforting a friend, all of his smiles were reassuring, except this one. Jon was probably the only person who had seen this one, and he had only seen it once before. It was the distant wistful smile of an old man taking his last walk in a field of wildflowers or a mother when she hears good news of a distant child or of superman as he saves Lois Lane yet again, unable to tell her his true identity.

The other time he'd seen it had been that day, but he pushed those memories back down, even as they tried to invade his consciousness. He couldn't remember the sunshine glinting off straw colored hair or the gentle rise and fall of his chest or the amazing clarity of his eyes without breaking.

But who was he kidding? He was confronted with those things everyday, there was no escape. If he tried to burry himself in work, the Commander was there, a shell of the man behind the job description, but a constant physical reminder. He might not see him in the morning sun but he could still gaze at him in the starlight or under the bright blue sky of an alien world.

Maybe it would have been better to leave him in San Francisco. Starfleet would probably have their warp six engine under construction if he had. He had stayed in touch with the design team, but Jon knew that he needed to be elbow deep in engine grease to really think. Trip dealt with pain by etching it into a design schematic or welding it into a plasma coil. He might even have them at warp seven for all the pain it would have caused, but at least he would be out of harm's way. He wouldn't be shot or drugged or cloned or broken or impregnated or...he couldn't even bring himself to think about it, the wounds were too fresh...he would be whole.

Enterprise might not have survived though. No one knew the engine like Trip, of course he had practically built it himself. In fact, without the skills of their chief engineer he and the rest of the crew would probably be dead. But who knows, that might have been for the better. Trip would have cried, but at least one of them would be free to move on. Hell, he might have even settled down with Natalie. And without Enterprise and Archer, the Xindi might not have decided to attack earth, and Earth might not be involved in this temporal cold war.

And all those people would still be alive. They haunted him at night when he thought he could hear their screams. He couldn't let anyone know though; he had to be strong for his crew. He had to be strong for Trip. He had lost his baby sister, and Jon hadn't been able to support him through it because of his duties as Captain. Malcolm had to go with him to the site. He had never wished that he could just chuck his duties aside more than at that moment...no, he always had that nagging desire to throw them away, every time he thought of Trip.

He didn't know what he had done or what he would do, but he knew without a doubt that without Enterprise, those people would be alive. Lizzie would be alive. Oh God, Lizzie! He was so overwhelmed with concern and sympathy for Trip that he had almost forgotten that he had lost someone too. He might not have loved Lizzie as much as Trip did, but he loved her.

He had even believed that he was in love with her at one point in time. But she had been wise beyond her years. She saw the truth far before either of them had, even as they were busy codling her, playing the protective older brother and best friend.

It wasn't until this moment that he realized how much he missed her, how much he needed to hear her comforting words in the soft melody of her all too familiar southern accent. She would tell him that he could do it. That it was okay, that he had done his job and that Trip would be all right even after all of this. She would know exactly what to do to make it all better.

He thought about her beautiful golden hair, the mischievous glint in her eyes, the bemused sadness of the day he declared his undying love. He remembered it like it was yesterday...

He sat outside on the patio, harsh Florida sun filtering through the trees, a light breeze tugging at the bright blue of the sarong tied haphazardly around her waist and ripping unwieldy strands of hair from behind the sunglasses that rested on her forehead. She handed him an ice tea with a smile, so animated and instantly relaxing like her brother's. He looked across the table at her warily. She was waiting for him to spill. This was why Trip had taken him home after all, to talk with Lizzie, the relationship mechanic.

"Where's Trip?

"He left for the hardware store half an hour ago to pick up some spare parts to fix the irrigation system. I guess we have the afternoon to ourselves." Jon chuckled, even he wouldn't venture to the hardware store with Trip; it was an all day project. Not that he didn't love to hear the passion in his friend's voice as he enumerated the many things that he planned to do with seemingly every oddly shaped piece of metal or plastic he came across. Still, it was exhausting trying to keep up with the engineer's seemingly boundless enthusiasm for all things mechanical. At least in Starfleet, everything had to be requisitioned or made from scratch; otherwise they would never get the project out of the shopping phase.

"How are you, Lizzie?"

"Fine."

"Is that an I'm-feeling-alone-and-miserable-but-I-don't-want-to- burden-you-fine or an I've-got-a-wonderful-life-and-I-don't-want-to- rub-it-in-your-face fine?" She laughed, that sweet but throaty chuckle, that he loved so much. It was almost as though she was trying to massage the air around her, excite the particles into waves that would transfer her effervescent joy to all those blessed with her company. "Does everyone have to have some sort of dark secret, Johnny? Can't I just be fine?"

He gave her a broad grin. Trip was right, a little sun and good company away from the bland order of Starfleet were doing wonders for him already. He said that if there was ever a place to get yourself into an emotional rut, Starfleet headquarters was it. Everyone was too professional to bother you and nothing big enough ever happened to jar you to your senses. It was too easy to slip into the mindlessness of routine. You had to nip it in the bud, Trip said. That's what this little vacation was all about, wasn't it?

And here he was, sitting in the sun across for a gorgeous woman, a woman who understood him. How could he possibly be unhappy? "You look great." He blurted out clumsily.

She giggled a little and bated her eyelashes at him, trying to parody the blushing schoolgirl. Even if she tried to belittle it, he knew she loved the attention. "Why thank you, good Sir." God, he loved that southern belle accent, which she was playing for all its worth. "I would say the same, except rumpled hair and bags under the eyes aren't really in fashion these days.

It was his turn to blush. "That bad?"

"Even cowboys sing the blues. How are you, Johnny? And don't you dare say 'fine.'" He lips were pursed in warning, but her eyes betrayed her concern.

"Lizzie, I really am fine." He held up his hand to stop her protest, "Relatively speaking of course. I've just come off a two year relationship, of course I'm going to be both confused and sad, but that, as they say, is life."

"And when did you come to this conclusion, last night when you and Charlie totaled that bottle of bourbon out on the beach?"

"Hey, I'm still standing, aren't I?"

"It's three in the afternoon, you better be." She giggled.

"To tell you the truth, it was more Trip's idea than mine. He thinks I'm holding in some gigantic ball of pain that I need to release. He thought half a bottle of bourbon would do it. The thing is, the only things I'm really feeling right now are confusion and guilt."

"Guilt?"

"We were together for two years, Lizzie, and I can't even shed a tear when it's over. I guess I never really felt anything for her that whole time. I can't help but think I was using her, keeping her from finding Mr. Right." Jon shook his head. Maya had been sweet. She was undoubtedly what his father used to refer to as a keeper. "She was devoted and kind and intelligent and beautiful." Even the sex was wonderful, though he would never say that to Lizzie. She was still Trip's younger sister, after all. "Everything a guy could ever want in a woman, everything on my personal checklist for happiness."

Lizzie looked at him with calculating scrutiny. Sometimes he thought she knew what he was thinking before he thought it. He guessed it just ran in the family. Tuckers could read him like an open book. Despite whatever it was she was thinking, she knew her lines in Jon's little monologue and played the part perfectly. "So what went wrong?"

"I broke up with her. It wasn't really anything she did; it was more things that she didn't do. I was comfortable with her, but in the way that I'm comfortable with my desk chair or my old worn out tennis shoes. We eat the same kind of food were both only children of engineer fathers. Her family welcomed me after dad died. She was just the right size to slip under my arm. And we're both Starfleet, so we could understand the frustrations of the office or the risk of being assigned to some far off colony. She fit into my life, it was easy, but I was never passionate about her. Two years and the first thing I thought about loosing her was how much I would miss the family picnics." He sighed petulantly, "Am I just a horrible person?"

She smiled. The smile alone was enough to absolve him, "Of course not. You tried to love her Johnny, gave her the benefit of the doubt. So it didn't work out. Would you have rather had a violent breakup or ended up in an unhappy marriage?"

'No, I guess not. It's just when I think about it, she didn't do anything wrong, it was all me. I mean, I couldn't help but think that she was with me to push her career. My dad did design the engine, after all. I wouldn't have those kinds of ugly thoughts if it really was love. At one time I even thought that she would probably sleep with Trip if he showed any interest, if it would get her a promotion. Lucky for me he doesn't go for the sculpted blond, under his command or not."

"You've got a thing for blonds, don't you?" She giggled, twirling her hair shamelessly.

"Well, I like you, don't I?" He teased.

"You like Charlie, I'm just his lil' sis'."

He fixed her with a suddenly serious stare. "No, I like you of your own right, Lizzie. Sometimes I wish you weren't Trip's sister..." She stopped him before he could get into dangerous territory, "Then you'd never associate with such a homely southern girl."

"Come on, Liz, you're not homely. Sure, you're not exactly Starfleet material. Trip barely makes it through the bureaucracy by the skin of his teeth. You're far too grounded. We're all dreamers or displaced military loonies."

"So you admit it, you're just another insano with a pulse rifle?"

"Do you see a gun on me?"

"Probably hidden under your shirt."

"You can go ahead and check if you want." He grinned mischievously, thinking of her long fingers running down his chest, checking every inch of his body for firearms.

"I think I'll pass. Besides, you were telling me about Maya."

"What if I don't want to talk about Maya, what if I want to move on?" He said hopefully. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He wasn't upset about Maya because he was already in love with Lizzie. Lizzie had everything Maya didn't. She was passionate and original. She knew exactly when to challenge him or comfort him. They had the kind of banter that he only ever had with one other person, her brother. He already knew the Tuckers and they would welcome him with open arms, and he could see both his lover and his best friend at the same time. Maya had never really understood him. He could fantasize about her body but never about her soul. He wanted Lizzie to be as devoted to him as she was to her brother. He could imagine the sweet words she would find for him, the feel of her tender caress, the intensity in those eyes, for him alone. He was getting hard just thinking about it.

Luckily he remembered that it was just plain wrong to have such smarmy thoughts about your best friend's sister without at least giving her the respect of knowing about it, even then, Trip might decide to beat the crap out of him. He resolved to finish telling her about Maya, and then he would make his move. He edged his chair closer under the pretense of trying to get out of the shifting sunlight. "Maya just wasn't passionate. Sure she was a good engineer, I mean Trip never had a bad word to say about her, though he doesn't usually have bad words to say about anyone if he's seen a Vulcan at least once that day, which is usually every day. Good as she was, sometimes I got the feeling that she was an engineer because her father wanted her to be."

"Look who's talking, Mr. I-will-see-my-daddy's-engine-fly- Vulcans-be-damned!"

"Well that's passionate, isn't it?" She laughed, leaning toward him, and he almost kissed her then and there, but he needed to finish what he had to say first. "She never really tried to get to know me. I mean, she knew Commander Archer the Starfleet officer, son of Henry Archer, her father's hero, and she understood all of the crap Starfleet's putting me through, but she never really knew how that made me feel. She didn't know how to live life. She's not like you..."

Well he'd been dancing around it all afternoon, he had to follow through. He kissed her, and it was as good as he thought it could be. Her mouth was warm and delicate, and she kissed him back with exactly the right balance of caring and passion. He felt the passion he had missed these past years flow from his lips, trying to communicate that she was the only girl in the entire world for him. This was right. When they parted he felt her loss instantaneously, all of the warmth and comfort of the union leaving him alone and wanting more. "I'm in love with you."

He could see the worry building in her eyes. There were plenty of reasons for her to be worried. He was a lot older than her, and an officer who could be assigned to some deep space post, however unlikely that might be right now. He was her brother's best friend and he had just ended a long-term relationship, but he was convinced that all of that was trivial. He just needed to see his own need reflected in those gorgeous blue eyes.

"No, you're not."

"Don't tell me what I feel, Lizzie. If you don't love me, it's fine," he chuckled inwardly at his choice of words, "But I'm getting the distinct impression that you do."

He could see the tears building in her eyes. He had know her for nearly as long as he'd known Trip, since she was practically a kid, but she'd always been a woman to him, a loving understanding, beautiful woman. It killed him to see her in such pain after looking after her for so long. "I love you, Jon, and I know you love me too. And under different circumstances, we could definitely be in love. But I won't be a replacement."

"I told you, Lizzie, I'm over Maya. I was never really with her to begin with."

"But, Charlie..."

"Trip's a great guy, Lizzie. He's a little protective of both of us, and would probably eviscerate either of us if we hurt the other, but we're not going to. I love you. I want to be with you." He met her eyes, seeing both how much she loved him and how much it pained her. He didn't want to cause her pain, and he tried his hardest to comfort her with his gaze.

Then the tears began to fall in earnest. "I can't, Jon. I want to be with you. No one has ever kissed me like that before, Jon, but it wouldn't be right. I didn't mean that Charlie would be mad at us. He'd probably start picking out names for our first- born. You're the only one he would ever think was good enough for me, and that's the problem."

"You lost me. We shouldn't be together because your brother likes me too much?"

"We can't be together because my brother likes you too much and you like him too much. Like I said, I don't want to be a replacement." She sniffled, meeting his eyes, with such intensity that he lost the ability to process her words for a second,

"Wait...you think...me and Trip?!" He nearly spilled his tea off the table. She was crazy. She was misplacing her fears that they wouldn't work out, that Trip would be angry. "I...how can you even think about your brother that way? He's my best friend."

She smiled sadly, the same wistful smile that Trip would wear years later. "You might not realize it Johnny, but he's much more. When the two of you are together the air in the room lightens up. I can almost feel the bond between you. You would do anything for each other."

"Did he tell you this?" Jon was starting to worry; did Trip have a crush on him? Was that the point of this visit, for his sister to drop the bomb on him? No, that wasn't his style. If he were going to say anything he would've said it last night with half a bottle of bourbon in him.

"Naw, he's just as oblivious as you. He can fix anything from a broken toaster to a warp engine, but he couldn't find a clue if it was tattooed to his forehead. Trust me on this one, Jon. I've been watching you guys, the sexual tension is driving me nuts."

"He's my best friend." Jon said stubbornly, leaning in for another kiss.

She turned away so his lips brushed her check. He took this as a sign to kiss down her neck. "Why do you want me?"

Between kisses he answered, "Because I can see passion in every single movement of your body even if it's about the smallest thing."

"The same kind of passion you see in Charlie for his engines or his latest crush or for you?"

So they had that same passionate poise, the same infectious enthusiasm, they were brother and sister after all. He kissed that little dip above her collarbone, ignoring her comment, "The way you smile, as though the world could live on your smile alone."

"Smile runs in the family."

He kissed his way down her shoulder, "The way you look at me, as though you could see right through my eyes and into my soul until we are not one but two."

"And the two of you aren't really one?"

He left a line of kisses along her arm, "The way we can be both comfortable together in silence or talking about nothing."

"Like you guys do in your flat after work?"

They watched sports, that was different. He attacked the sensitive bend in her arm, "The way you make every room brighter by virtue of being in it, and make even the most difficult people fall in love with you."

"How many times have you seen Charlie do just that at a party?" He was getting truly worried now, making his way down her forearm in a full on attack. He didn't even give her time to answer. "Your compassion. Your intelligence, even if it isn't conventional. Your stubbornness. Your loyalty. Your courage. Your almost guilty pride. The sound of your voice. The way you steal glances at people when you think they're not looking. The way you make me laugh. The way you manage to be strong even though everyone around you underestimates you." But even as he was saying these things, Jon knew that they were true of his best friend too, as much so if not more, that he was listing qualities that he had sensed in Trip from the first day he had met him. He looked up as he laid a sensuous kiss on the back of her hand, meeting that stubborn glint in her eyes, the one that announced that she thought she had won, but he had one last bit of ammo and this one was deadly. "Your beauty." He said, kissing her chastely on the lips.

She shook her head, "I look just like him, only female."

Jon pulled her into his lap, inhaling the scent of tropical flowers in her soft blond hair, running a hand from a silky check down the delicate curve of her neck and down to grasp her tiny waist. "A pretty big distinction, I would think."

She sighed but didn't try to pull away as he traced small circles on her back. "Jon, I wouldn't think you would be the type to shun love for something as superficial as appearance."

He gently turned her chin so that they were looking each other in the eyes. "Lizzie, I'm not gay." He didn't want to sound judgmental, but the words came out stronger than he anticipated. That's just not who he was.

"Jon, as long as I've known you, you've never let anything stop you from doing something you thought was worthwhile. You can get over that." She brushed a light kiss on his forehead before she stood. "You and I would only work if you were sure, and you're not. Just think of all the things that Charlie has to offer you that I don't. I'm sure you'll find that they're worth more that two breasts and a vagina."

"Lizzie, don't be vulgar." He joked, reaching out for her. "Come here."

"No, Jon." She warned, even her stern tones made his heart flutter. He ached for her. "Think about it, really think. I love you enough to do what's best for you and in this case that means saying no." With that she walked back into the house, gathering her hair into a ponytail as she went. She would probably start working on the front garden. Lizzie liked to throw herself into some kind of project whenever she was upset, and he had certainly given her cause to be upset.

He really did love her. And he respected her enough to at least consider her words. What did Trip have that she didn't, aside from the obvious physiological differences. Well he was a genius, and he loved that serene look on his face when he was covered in mechanical grease and considering some sort of technical problem. He cared about people on a more global scale, always wanting to save the world, which he admired. The two of them could play together like little boys. They could almost read each other's thoughts at times, but surely he and Lizzie could develop that. He was in Starfleet, so he could both share and understand his problems, and more than Maya ever had, he could empathize. He could stand up to Jon even in his worst moods. He was a hero, even if he acted like a child sometimes. He acted like a child sometimes. He loved exploration and was just as much a dreamer as Jon himself. He was dedicated to Henry Archer's vision and stood up for it, and all his ideals. He expected the best of people and demanded it from the universe.

But these were all things Jon loved about his best friend; they weren't necessary in a relationship. Then again, he had done the relationship check box thing with Maya, and it hadn't worked...No, he just wasn't attracted to Trip, no getting around pure biology.

And then he heard the patio door slide open. Maybe Lizzie changed her mind. But then he heard deeper voice, soft like hers and every bit as melodic, but more familiar. He was surprised at the way it seemed to reach straight for his heart, resounding directly in every part of his body, as though it had originated there. "Hey, Lizzie's out in the garden wagin' a holy war against the weeds, somethin' up?"

"Nothing." Jon couldn't meet his eyes from shame. What had gone wrong? It had seemed so right.

"Sure...you've just got that brooding look on your face 'cause ya think it suits you."

"Yep." He grunted stubbornly.

"Weren't arguing about me, were ya?"

Jon blushed, wondering if Trip knew how close he'd come to the truth, "As though we don't have better things to talk about."

Trip chuckled, the same pervasive uplifting note Lizzie always managed to hit. "There's nothing better."

"You're back from the hardware store in record time." He changed the subject unconvincingly.

Trip shrugged, letting him get away with it. He always let him get away with it, and he loved that too. "I told Lizzie I was only going to get a few spare parts. Didn't want to leave the two of you alone together for too long. You might get into too much trouble, or try and take over the world or somethin'."

"You always take so long when I go with you."

"I like watching you struggle with yourself, wondering whether or not to tell me to shut up so we can get the hell out of there."

"So you enjoy watching people suffer then?"

"Not people, just you." A line delivered with characteristic Tucker aplomb. Jon shuddered. Just me?

"Some best friend you are."

"Doncha know it. That reminds me, what was it that's got you and Lizzie so hot and bothered?"

"I was just telling her about Maya. I don't think Lizzie approves of my dating parameters." It wasn't exactly a lie.

"Tall and blond, nothing wrong with that."

"Easy for you to say, you're tall and blond." He grinned at the irony of his statement.

Trip didn't even stop to notice, "Us blonds gotta stick up for each other, fight against that whole dumb blond stereotype thing. But seriously, what are your datin' criteria? You've been with Maya for so long I've forgotten."

Jon was tempted to just give him the checklist, the one that he used to chose Maya, but he decided that he owed it to Trip to really consider it. "I've decided that I'm over Maya and that my standards have changed."

"Really? Care to enlighten me?"

Jon finally brought himself to meet his eyes, heart skipping a beat at the intensity of love and concern he found there. "Someone I could be passionate about for the rest of my life."

Trip smiled, his usual lopsided grin, "Very romantic, Jon. Still, seems like kinda a tall order."

And it was as though a door had been opened; a door he didn't even know was there. The veil was lifted and there was no turning back. In that smile he found something he could be passionate about his entire life, and it was all because of Lizzie. "I don't think so, Trip," he smiled dazedly, nearly spilling his glass yet again as he rose. "I need to talk to Lizzie."

"Sure you're alright, Jon?"

"Never better."

He found Lizzie in the garden, surrounded by upturned weeds and gardening tools. He ran his hand lightly down her back to rest comfortably around he waist as he sat down beside her. "Toché." He grinned.

"What are you going to do about it?"

Jon felt his stomach flip. He was just getting acquainted with the idea that he was in love with his best friend and now she expected him to actually do something about it?

"Nothing."

"You're just going to let true love slip through your fingers?" She scowled at him, giving a weed a rather overzealous yank from the ground and showering them with dirt..

"Like you said, he's clueless, and as his best friend I can say on good authority he's straight."

"So are you." She replied pointedly.

"Look, I'm still sorting myself out. First of all, I've never even considered being with a man before. Second, I have to think about what this means for our friendship and how to keep it intact. Third, I did just end a long-term relationship and I need time to recover. And last but not least, I need to wait for exactly the right moment."

She gave him a harsh look, wiping a strand of hair out of her face with her gardening gloves.

"I'll tell him, don't worry. I couldn't live the rest of my life knowing this and not do something about it. I just need some time. Am I at least allowed that?"

"Of course, Jon." She gave an exasperated sigh, which quickly brightened into a smile, "I'm so happy for you." She pulled him into a tender hug, smearing dirt all over his clean blue shirt, but he didn't care, he was in love.

Lizzie would forgive the actions of Captain Archer in a heartbeat, just as she forgave him for not being in love with her, but would she ever be able to forgive Jon for what he had done to her older brother? He doubted it.

It had all been so promising that day under the Florida sun. How could he possibly have foreseen what was to come? Enterprise? The Xindi? Her death? He still loved Trip as passionately as he did that day, and now he knew that the feelings were reciprocated, but that knowledge had done nothing but tear them apart from the inside out. And now? Since...the incident...he didn't think he could take it anymore.

It was clear from the haunted look in his features that Trip had regrets. There wasn't a moment that Jon didn't wish that they hadn't been forced to chose between love and duty, but that didn't mean he would chose differently. But Trip's features were set. He was going to say it, that long unspoken wish for what they could never have, even if it wouldn't change there situation.

He fixed Jon with a apologetic and wounded stare, asking for forgiveness before he even spoke the words. "July 3rd."

Jon couldn't keep his jaw from dropping, that wasn't what he expected. July 3rd was the best day of his life, though he could see how it could also be seen as the worst.

When Jon said that he needed time he hadn't been expecting it to take nearly a year for the right moment to come up. And when it did, he was so used to the panicked knowledge that he alone carried dancing through his mind every time they were together, that he almost missed it. Luckily the universe had other plans.

After they returned to San Francisco, the Warp 5 Project really started to get going. Starfleet okayed Trip's preliminary design schematics for a larger scale engine meant for a full starship and set him and the rest of his team up in a hanger at headquarters testing prototypes of secondary systems. While Jon was a constant figure in the lab, he was there only as a consultant.

He spread his time between teaching, testing the waters of command with short missions between colonies and honing his diplomatic skills helping Forrest deal with the various Vulcan advisors to the program. It had really become clear that he was being groomed for command, hopefully of the first Warp 5 ship. Of course there was the competition of his friend/rival, A.G. Robinson, and a few others to worry about and Jon spent so much time working himself up over it that Trip's orders to both relax and get a grip were a constant refrain.

Both of them were suffering under the humongous strain of living up to level of performance that was expected, if not demanded, of them. If something romantic were to happen between them, it would probably collapse under the strain of their careers. Still Jon found that they were getting even closer, which he would have thought impossible months earlier.

When Trip announced that they had finally come up with a timeline for the construction of the ship, Jon was both relieved and scared out of his mind. Admiral Forrest had hinted that they wanted to choose a Captain as soon as they finalized a timeline for construction so that he had his hands in the project from the beginning.

The brass signed off on the design team's plans just before the American holiday of July 4th, still celebrated despite its irrelevance. Jon had been devastated when the Admiral had invited A.G. out to his home in Napa Valley for the holiday, sure that it meant that he was going to be awarded the captaincy. Instead of doing the usual drink away your sorrows gig, Trip had suggested that they head out to Florida to do some scuba diving. One of Trip's friend's had a home on the beach in the Keys that he wasn't using while going to Texas to spend time with his girlfriend's family, so they took their long overdue vacation time and headed out, without even telling the Admiral of their plans.

On the night of July 2nd they sat on the beach, digging their toes into the sand, still warm from the hot July sun, and talking aimlessly about anything inconsequential they could think of. They both knew that there would be a time and place for Jon's anger and frustration at not being chosen for the project, but they wanted to avoid it as long as possible.

The moon was almost full that night, casting eerie shadows across the ripples of the sand, making the familiar seascape seem almost alien. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was like a lullaby, punctuating their soft and rambling words.

Trip was wearing his usually affable smile, unwittingly sending a pain directly to the pit of Jon's stomach and maybe some blood to his groin. Jon hadn't dated since his conversation with Lizzie, though it was easily explained by his ever-increasing workload, not that that mattered anymore.

A part of him realized that now was definitely the perfect time to make his move. There was nothing standing in his way, as his duties would undoubtedly slacken once he was out of the running. And here they were alone on an incredibly romantic beach in the moonlight. The rest of him, however, was more afraid than ever. What if Trip rejected him? If he lost both his best friend and his hopes for his career he didn't know what he would do. So his conscious mind repressed all knowledge of the scenery and the timing to focus instead on how mad he was at the bureaucracy of Starfleet for choosing a reckless cowboy like Robinson over himself.

"Jon, are you okay?" Trip asked now that the conversation had slowed.

"No." He snapped petulantly.

"Wanna talk about it?"

The waves crashed hard against the defenseless shore, rolling into each other with an eerie might. The stars were bright, almost taunting him with all their splendor. He had dreamed of exploring those stars, and now he found those dreams dashed in an instant. Only the steady beat of the waves kept him from sinking from anger to despair. "I just want to look at the ocean. Seems almost as angry as I am." In fact it was taking on a decidedly green tinge, expressing perfectly his own envy. Damn Robinson! Sonofabitch!

"Tonight's a special night." Trip remarked nonchalantly.

"Why, because it's the night I lost command of Enterprise?" He growled. He hadn't meant for it to come out like that. It seemed as though Trip was trying to throw him a bone. He just wanted to be angry along with the waves, Trip's silent presence there just to ground him. Was that too much to ask?

"No."

They were silent for a moment. Obviously he was going to have to work for this one. "Then why?"

With that Trip stood and began stripping off his cloths. Jon just stared in disbelief. He knew that his mouth was wide-open, catching flies. Luckily Trip was facing the other direction and still wrestling with his shirt so he didn't notice. He could definitely feel his groin responding, but he tried not to think about that. He wanted to believe that this was some sort of seduction, an attempt to make up for the loss of a childhood dream that had very nearly become reality, but he had seen Trip naked dozens of times, and the casual ease with which he disrobed made Jon believe that this was just another one of them.

The only difference was that now Jon was actually conscious of the other man's body. God he was gorgeous! He had never considered how toned Trip was. How his thin waist and lanky form were both petite and strong. He could match Jon in power, but he had a delicate innocence to him, almost angelic in the moonlight.

Having done away with his clothes, Trip started walking toward the water, yelling over his shoulder. "Aren't you coming?"

Jon fumbled with his cloths. Why had he decided to wear shorts with buttons today? They were so much more complicated horny in the moonlight with a free pass to view a certain naked engineer, which might soon expire. After finally liberating himself of his shorts and underwear as well as his T-shirt (thankfully the buttonless kind), Jon ran after his friend into the water, noting the eerie green glow it made as it lapped at his feet.

Trip gabbed his arm and pulled him in until they were up to chest height. He could feel his heart beating ridiculously quickly in his chest and his breath catching in his lungs as he found himself so close and even touching his naked friend. "Look in the water and move your hands in front of you." He commanded, and Jon obliged.

His eyes breached to calm surface and it was blackness, calming, with the melodic crash of the waves nothing but a soothing hum to his waterlogged ears. The second he move his hands, however, it was fireworks. Tiny greenish white explosions danced before him, telling at chaotic but beautiful tale. He was so mesmerized that he almost forgot that he needed to surface in order to breath. "What..." he gasped.

"Told ya it was a special night. What you just saw was bioluminescence. Around this time every year the tide washes in colonies of phosphorescing plankton. What you were actually seeing was the death of tiny microorganisms, ignited and killed by the motion of you hand."

"So all of that beauty was really just death?"

"I know it's kinda morbid, but there is a certain simple splendor in that kind of death isn't there? The brilliant end of seemingly inconsequential things, the sacrifices of so many individuals, for the complex beauty of the whole." He smiled quizzically, "Who knows. Maybe the sacrifices we make today will create something magnificent tomorrow."

Jon realized that he was trying to reassure him, without ever bringing it up. It was a dirty trick, but it worked. He immediately stopped worrying about A.G. and Enterprise. He was standing here with Trip in the moonlight, enjoying the simple intimacy of the moment. The rest of the universe could collapse upon it self, as long as they were together simply existing like this, it didn't matter.

He found himself leaning forward, inevitably, governed by the same forces of the moon that dragged the waves against the shore. He had no idea how his hand had made it to Trip's arm in the first place, but it worked it's way up to the back of his head as he pulled him in for a tentative but passionate kiss.

Even in the moonlight he could seen Trip's eyelashes flutter shut in pleasure. He could feel the immediacy in his touch as he gripped his shoulders and pulled Jon to him. Their kiss was wet and salty, mouths warm and breaths ragged in this humid Florida night. It seemed like an eternity of bliss, but he still clung to it when they were forced to part, still gripping each other frantically.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time." Jon sighed into his friend's neck.

"Why didntcha?"

"I was worried. I didn't think you realized..."

"I didn't."

"Then how come..."

He considered it for a second. "It felt so right at the moment. I decided to go with the flow." Leave it to Trip to do what had taken Jon a huge argument, a thwarted romantic advance, and practically a year to accomplish as if it were as natural as breathing.

Jon pulled back to study his features. His eyes were icy clear in the moonlight but impossible to read. "And now, after the moment?"

Trip grinned, shrugging, "We'll it's another moment." With that he captured Jon's lips yet again, hungrily this time, merging flesh to flesh, as though if they pressed close enough they would never have to let go.

Their hearts raced faster than the waves, the water aflame with green fireworks as they stumbled frantically toward the shore, small creatures sacrificing themselves to add both momentum and brilliance to this moment.

They collapsed onto the beach, waves tickling their feet, stilled locked in a passionate embrace. They were part of this cycle of nature, coming together under the rule of the moon as seamlessly as the sea reached up to kiss the velveteen abyss of the sky. The stars twinkled, singing the song of their union like all of the inevitabilities they witnessed in their infinite time. They made love slowly and gently to the beat of the waves, dying the same magnificent death as the tiny ocean organisms and being reborn new from the womb of the mysterious sky, together.

There was no way either of them could regret that night or waking up that morning salty but satiated in each other's arms, because it hadn't been a choice. The universe had conspired to bring them together and it had been magical, so surreal that he couldn't even remember making his way back to the house and into the warm white sheets of the bed, lost the hum of the stars and the dazzled bliss of finding where he belonged, at least for the moment. But it wasn't meant to last. The same universe that gave him such happiness could also take it away.

He kissed Trip on the forehead, untangling himself from the mass of limbs and sheets they had made for themselves and taking a moment to revel in his beauty, as stunning in the dawn light that peaked through the blinds as it had been in the moonlight the night before. He could definitely love this man passionately for all eternity.

He closed the blinds a little tighter and padded off to the bathroom to wash the sea from his skin and hair. He should have known that they were at the mercy of the sea and the second it was removed from his person their union was neither blessed nor secured.

When he returned, refreshed and feeling like the luckiest man alive he found Trip sitting in a pile of sheets rubbing his eyes and groaning. Trip had never been a morning person.

"Wake up, sleepy, rise and shine." Jon said brightly, thinking that nothing could bring him down from this wonderful high of having the one he loved in his arms.

"What...Jon...mmmmrph." Trip moaned inarticulately.

"Well, we certainly are putting our multiple degrees to good use this morning ,aren't we?"

"Not funny." He frowned.

"I'll make you some coffee. I want you awake for what I've got planned for you."

Bright blue eyes snapped up, a mischievous grin rising over his face as brilliantly as the sun rose in the sky, "What kind of plans?"

"I don't know...I think yesterday was far too stressful. We are on vacation, after all. Maybe we should just spend all day in bed."

"Sounds good to me, Commander." He could have sworn Trip giggled, reaching out and pulling Jon into a tender kiss and reminding him of his strength as he wrestled him back into the bed, attacking the towel he had wrapped around his waist.

As much as Jon liked the reminder of last night that the salt on his lover's lips provided, he had to lay down some rules in this relationship. "No you don't, Mister. I just got myself clean, off to the shower with you."

Trip gave him a mock scowl, "You're not going to come with me?" He pouted.

Jon tried to push the images of Trip in the shower under the warmth of the rushing water out of his mind as he gave him a delicate peck on the lips. "As fun as that sounds, I think I better make you that coffee, and then maybe give Forrest a call, just so he doesn't worry about us."

"You'd rather talk to Forrest that shower with me?"

"I just had a shower, and don't think that just because we're lovers now you can pout like that all the time. At least try a semblance of the restraint you showed before."

"Fine." Trip pouted irreverently, pulling the sheets around him in punishment as he staggered off in search of the shower.

Jon sighed. Eventually they were going to have to talk about this. As natural as the transition from friends to lovers had seemed, there were bound to be problems. Especially because there was something that Jon wanted to make crystal clear: that he was madly head over heals in love with Trip Tucker and that he wanted them to stay like this forever.

Still, they could have a great deal of new-couple sex before they even had to think about the talking bit. He bit his lip in anticipation, switching on the coffee machine. He just had to get all of these pornographic images out of his head before he put in the call to the Admiral.

He pulled on relaxed grey T-shirt and a pair of sweats before switching on the viewscreen and ringing the Admiral.

Forrest looked both enraged and relieved to see him. "Jon! You had us all worried! I know both you and Mr. Tucker had enough leave stored up to get the personnel people practically pushing the two of you out the door, but disappearing like that?"

"I'm sorry, Sir. I just needed to get away. I figured that you wouldn't need me around, anyway."

"It's alright, Jon, I understand. It is a holiday after all. I'm leaving the office early today, so there's no reason why you should have to stick around, especially seeing as we haven't gotten anything scheduled for a few days." Jon had meant that he wouldn't be needed with the program anymore, but the Admiral seemed to be in the middle of something, so he didn't dare interrupt. "I just should have made myself a little more clear. I assumed that because you and Mr. Tucker never seem to take time off that you would be around. I would have liked to tell you this in person, and I would have done it before you left, that's all. I just though I'd do you the courtesy of telling you before I talk with A.G. tomorrow."

Jon took deep breath. He was no longer mad at either Forrest or A.G., he was ecstatic, in fact. No command of Enterprise meant no five-year mission. Which meant five years he could spend with Trip. In fact he didn't know what he would do if they had decided to give him command. He would want to take Trip with him, of course, even though from the command standpoint that was definitely a bad idea. Having your lover onboard only put people at risk.

Besides, while Trip was an excellent leader when it came to an engineering team, his diplomacy and decision-making skills in other matters were seriously lacking. He only tolerated the Vulcans because they stood between him and his engines. And even if he did bring Trip along, they certainly couldn't be fucking like bunnies every chance they got. As Captain of a starship he had certain duties both to the regulations, which clearly prohibited such relationships and to the crew to be fair and to give them his full attention.

He had accepted that A.G. would get command of the ship that was created by both his father and his lover, and he was excited, both for A.G. and for he and Trip. Still there was something in Forrest's tone that set butterflies flying in his stomach. He assumed that it was just his pride stirring up some last hopes that he might be worthy enough to command after all.

He heard some rustling in the background, smiling thinking that it was probably Trip groping around for the coffee. "Thank you, Admiral." He said a little loudly, hopefully signaling Trip not to stroll in naked in search of coffee and give his commanding officer an eye-full.

"I'll make this brief and unofficial, seeing as you are on vacation. Starfleet has decided that the first warp 5 ship needs a Captain that is both responsible and willing to take risks." Jon didn't know if A.G. was particularly responsible, but he certainly knew how to take risks. "Someone who can balance diplomacy and a knowledge of how to defend earth with force if necessary. This person needs the charisma to charm the planet in support of Starfleet and the program as well as the leadership skills to lead a crew truly where no man has gone before." A.G. certainly had charisma. Though Jon wondered why he needed to know all this. Was he really lacking in all these things? "We need someone who understand most of the duties on the ship and how to delegate tasks evenly. We have had our eyes on several candidates, but in the end we decided that the best man to put your father's engine to the noble work of exploration is his very own son. Congratulations, Jon."

Jon heard a glass break in background, or was that his heart? He swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling it sink directly to the pit of his stomach and managed to stammer, "Thank you, Admiral. It's an honor."

"The honor is all mine, Jon. I've had the pleasure of watching you grow from an unsure cadet trying to live up to his father's reputation to a competent and self assured man capable of commanding the greatest ship in the fleet. Now, I'm sure you'll want to celebrate, so I'll leave you. I was hoping that you could head back here tomorrow. We were planning to announce the whole thing before the pyrotechnics display in front of headquarters. I know this PR stuff is a pain, but we'd like you promotion to Captain to be public. "

"Not a problem, Sir. I'll see you then."

"I'm looking forward to it, Jon, and make sure to bring Lieutenant Commander Tucker back with you, he's due for a promotion as well. We've got to show our appreciation for the masterminds behind these things, don't we?"

"Will do, Sir."

"Thanks, Jon. Have a nice vacation."

"Same to you, Sir."

Jon could barely keep his hand from shaking as he reached out to turnoff the viewscreen. He heard Trip's footsteps behind him, and felt a warm hand laid reassuringly on his shoulder.

Part of him was ecstatic. He would command the first Warp 5 starship in the fleet! He would get to fulfill his dream after all. The only problem was that it was no longer his dream. His dream had changed in an instant from flying through the stars to night spent sitting under the stars huddled close to the man he loved.

He felt familiar breath tickle the back of his neck as arms wrapped around his neck to rest comfortably on his chest, "I'm proud of you, Jon. All of those things the Admiral said about you were true, and so many more things I can't even begin to name them."

Jon turned to face his lover, or was he back to being his best friend? It was then that he first saw that wistful smile. "I don't have to accept." He insisted.

"Oh, Jon, you and I both know you can't do that. Not only was this your dream, but it was your Daddy's too and mine in my own way. You can't just stop dreaming because you're with me. Neither of us would be able to live with ourselves, or each other, if you did."

"But why dream when I already have what I need?" He tried to get the words out without breaking down. He loved space, but he undoubtedly loved Trip more.

"That's really sweat, Jon, and part of me just wants to melt into your arms right now and never let go, but I've got a responsibility to the people of Starfleet and the people of this planet just like you have and part of that is to make sure that Earth is protected. Everything Forrest said is absolutely true. We don't just need a starship Captain, but the Captain of our flagship, and he needs to have certain qualities if we want our explorations to be a success. You are not just the best man for the job, but the only man for the job. Starfleet knows it, Forrest knows it, you know it, I know it, and tomorrow night millions of other people are going to know it too."

"It's not my problem Trip, it's theirs. What if I had never existed or if I'd died? They'd find someone else. I'd quit the fleet if I have to. I've never been this happy in all my life and I'm not giving that up."

"That's just the sex talking."

"Someone seems to think mighty highly of himself." Jon teased.

"Once you've had Tucker you never go back," They laughed as Jon wondered if he knew how right he was. There truly was no one else for him now. Hell, there had never really been anyone else since they met. Even Maya couldn't live up to Trip. As the laughter subsided Trip fixed Jon with a serious stare, tempered by a smile. "You really want A.G. to represent the human race?"

"God forbid! Hopefully they've got someone else in mind."

Trip shook his head, placing a chaste kiss on Jon's lips, "You know they've got no one better. You know that this doesn't have to be the end of us, don't you?"

"Trip, it's a 5 year mission. I don't think I can be that long without you. I wasn't sure I could stand it even if we were just friends."

"Then take me with you."

"Starfleet won't like that. They know we're best friends, and besides, you know they want you here. You're the star of their engineering division. They don't want you risking your neck out in space when they could have you chained to a desk toying with engine schematics."

"You'll just have to convince them."

"And even if I do, we could never be more than friends. We'd be under such public scrutiny here on Earth; I could never break any of the fraternizations regs here. And in space, well it's going to be a small ship."

"We've been in a completely sexless relationship for years, Jon. We can wait until we get back."

"But what if something happens to one of us. You know it's going to be dangerous."

"Then it'll happen and we won't regret it because we'll be out there doing what we love, together." Jon frowned. He could see the logic in those words, but his heart, and admittedly his libido, were telling him otherwise. He wanted the package deal, friendship and lust and tenderness all rolled up into one. He didn't want to settle for less. He sighed, Trip fixing him with an intense but tender stare. "We can do this."

Jon took in single breath, a brave breath, as though it were his first one. "We can do this." He repeated, pulling Trip into his lap for a hug, which the engineer immediately turned into a deeply passionate kiss. "But we can't keep doing that." Jon protested.

Trip grinned wantonly, "Captain Archer and Commander Tucker can't do that. But until tomorrow we're an engineer and diplomat/commander/consultant not affiliated in the command structure and on vacation to boot, so we can do whatever the hell we want."

Jon sighed, "We then, I guess I should tell you what I wanted to tell you before this whole mess, one officer on vacation to another: I'm madly head-over-heels in love with you and I want to be with you forever."

"Then one officer on vacation to another, I need to inform you that I'm I feel exactly the same way, and that I will do anything for you including willingly going into a 9 year relationship amnesia so that when we return to earth conquering heroes, we will be able to make your other dreams come true. And I'll do it without regret."

"Then I guess, one officer on vacation to another, I have to do this." With that, Jon pulled him into an earth-shattering kiss. It would have to replace the thousands, maybe millions of kisses that they would be missing in those 9 years, so it needed to be earth shattering. Every touch was electric, sparking with the force of millions of touches that would never happen.

They made their way back to the bedroom, unable to part, knowing that these touches would soon be forbidden and that they needed to take advantage of every single second they could spend together. Every breath was an eternity and every heartbeat a lifetime. Still, it was a daunting task to compress all the passion of nearly a decade into a single day. They made a valiant attempt.

And now Trip regretted it. Jon could see why. That day had been a constant reminder of everything they couldn't have. It might have been possible, if not easy, to forget that night of pure unadulterated passion spent as slaves to universal desire. They weren't themselves there. They were pawns in a great game, acting on desire and want and need. But the next day they had a taste of a relationship, not just sex. They discovered each other's bodies. They lay in each other's arms. They were tender and frantic and honest and lascivious and passionate. But most of all they were complete.

Then it was ripped from them like a piece of still-beating heart ripped directly from the chest. And for so many years they had presumed to say that they had no regrets, but there were regrets in every breath they took apart, in every day that was not like that one.

Jon sighed, reaching out and collapsing into Trip's arms, careful not to jar the other man's still fragile body, even as the muscles tensed at his touch. "Why now," he choked softly.

"You know why." They still couldn't bring themselves to talk about it.

Jon couldn't get the image out of his mind, seeing the one and only love of his life, his soulmate, lying their on the transporter pad, covered in blood. He could still hear Lieutenant Reed's frantic voice calling for a beam out after weeks of searching or seeing both the fear and the shame in his eyes as he met Jon's. But the worst, even worse that the feel of his soul screaming or his heart trying to rip a hole through his chest to reach out to his beloved, was the smell, the disgusting musk of decay they left on him.

He tried not to cry, but he wasn't that strong. The tears flowed freely directly onto a shuddering shoulder. How ironic, even after practically dying together in the desert or seeing Trip's lifeless body in a coffin or experiencing wonders neither of them could ever have imagined, crying together like this in each other's arms was the closest they had been in years.

It was supposed to be a simple trade negotiation. Jon had heard that this space station was just an area for ships to stop and trade goods. While T"Pol and he went in search of information on the Xindi and their supposed weapon, Trip went off to negotiate trade for spare parts he needed to repair systems unduly stressed by various topographical problems of the expanse.

Jon knew that places like this were hotspots for crime and corruption, and that he didn't want to spend more time than necessary there. It was dangerous, and he worried about his best friend, who always seemed to find some sort of trouble to get himself tied up in. He would rather keep Trip locked safely on the ship, but he was the chief engineer and really the only man for the job, so he sent his armory officer along with him. He would have preferred to watch his back himself. Even before they had even considered becoming lovers, Jon had been unnaturally protective. Still, he was the Captain; he had to let his petty preferences go.

Oh how he regretted that. If he had been there, they probably wouldn't be any safer, considering that his own paranoia wasn't even close to being a match for that of Malcolm Reed. Still, he would know something concrete. He wouldn't have spent three weeks pacing, barely sleeping, and snapping at his crew when their search produced no results. He nearly took T'Pol's head off when she suggested that they give up the search. He felt a small tinge of guilt for that now; she was only doing her job.

If he had been there they might be tortured or killed or handed over to the Xindi, but at least they would have been together. He would know what happened to his best friend, the love of his life. He wouldn't be sitting nervously in sickbay, watching Malcolm pace back and forth like a caged animal, nearly in tears, unable to show the depth of his own grief.

"Wearing a hole in the floor isn't going to make the Doctor finish his surgery any faster." He said in what he hoped was his best concerned Captain's voice. He didn't want to be the concerned Captain, damnit! He wanted simultaneously to shake the Lieutenant until he told him exactly what had happened to his best friend and for him to leave so he could let out the heart wrenching wail that had building up inside him since that frantic hail. Reed to enterprise. Can anybody hear me? I need an emergency beam out, NOW! Commander Tucker's...I need a medical team. God, is anybody there? I don't know what to do. I don't know if I can move him any more. The ship's receiving antenna must have been damaged, or Malcolm didn't know how to use it. They just beamed them up.

Jon remembered rushing to the transporter room, heart pounding. He had never heard Malcolm, Mr. Ice-cool-under-pressure so panicked before. That voice sent a chill down his spine.

"Sorry, Sir," Malcolm croaked, sheepishly. He sat down in the chair next to Jon's, wrapping himself in his own arms. Jon could swear he saw him shiver, steel grey eyes fixed but haunted.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Jon tried to keep the urgency out of his voice. They were safe on Enterprise now, and he trusted the Lieutenant enough to know that if there had been anything immediately relevant to the security of the ship he would have heard about it in the first minute after their return. If there was one thing he knew about Malcolm Reed it was that he placed the security of the ship and it's crew first. He had obviously undergone a traumatic experience and he didn't want to push him. Still, he desperately needed to know what happened. All this uncertainty was killing him.

Malcolm turned to meet his eyes, taking a deep breath and answering with an overdose of his usual practiced detachment. "The planet we are orbiting is in the middle of a civil war. We were originally captured by the Rebel faction. I don't know much about them, only that the treated both myself and the Commander humanely. We were kept separate and allowed to see each other only briefly. I was kept as insurance, an impediment to the Commander's escape and they pretty much ignored me. They wanted the Commander to help them build some sort of weapon, and he seemed to be cooperating. The day..." He faltered, voice cracking. "Before the government attacked, they were real excited. I think they may have even tested the weapon successfully."

"You think?"

"Well, I overhead them discussing the damage, and how they were glad that they had decided to bring us aboard. I just have trouble imagining Trip helping them. It didn't appear as though he had been hurt and they never did anything to me. Perhaps they really did persuade him..." Jon knew that Trip had always been overly sympathetic, but he knew better than to help people who had kidnapped him! Besides, he must have learned something a bout interfering in other culture's business, especially after what had happened to the cogenitor.

Malcolm shrugged, "Obviously the weapon wasn't entirely capable, seeing how it was the same day that we found ourselves under attack. The power had a brief lapse, and I took that opportunity to rip off the grating over the ventilation system without getting a nasty electric shock. I then tried to crawl my way toward the sounds of the warp core, where I assumed they had taken Commander Tucker. I made it in time to see the leader of the Government soldiers throw him up against the warp core and demand information on the weapon he helped build. When he refused he had three guards beat him." Jon could hear anger rising in Malcolm's voice, and he felt his own muscles tensing. "They didn't do enough damage to knock him unconscious, but they did enough. The leader ordered them to let him see what would happen to him if he didn't cooperate and they all left the room." Malcolm shook his head, "God, what they did to him!"

"It wasn't your fault," Jon preempted the familiar Reed blame and self-hatred, trying to infuse as much sympathy into his voice as possible, even as part of him was crying out to punish the bastard who failed to protect his best friend. "You were outnumbered and unarmed. It was best to hang back and wait for an opportunity."

Malcolm nodded curtly. Jon wasn't sure if he was convinced, but he knew that the armory officer needed to get his story out so he let him continue. "I found what appeared to be some kind of sensors or communication room. I was just starting to figure out how to contact you when I heard footsteps. I didn't have time to climb back into the vents so I jumped into a supply closet. There were five of them. They spent nearly seven hours pouring over sensor logs and communications data, trying to decrypt rebel transmissions I suppose. I was trapped in that damn closet and there wasn't a thing I could do about it. Once they finished I was able to locate Trip in some cargo hanger and make my way there through the ventilation shafts."

He took a deep breath, as if replenishing himself for a hard road ahead, "I managed to locate the Commander in one of the cargo bays. I whispered his name many times but he didn't answer me. There was something blocking the vents so I couldn't get to him," Malcolm shifted uncomfortably, staring at the floor, "It wasn't long before they took him again, however. I used that time to disable a guard I saw alone searching one of the holds and take his weapon. I made it back to the sensor room to try and locate Trip. That was when I noticed that Enterprise had entered orbit and..." he hesitated, "...and that I needed to get to Trip right away."

"Why?" Jon asked, frightened by the unease Malcolm displayed by fidgeting in his seat, then finally standing.

"I accidentally turned on the internal comm. System." Malcolm averted his eyes sheepishly, "I could hear him scream."

Jon closed his eyes, trying to keep the tears from flowing. He prayed that Trip would come out of this the same man that he knew and loved. What had they done to him? "I assume you found him."

"I shot my way to the holding cell where they were interrogating him, meeting little resistance. There were only two guards outside the cell and the interrogator was...um...preoccupied. I dragged the commander back to the communications room and hailed you."

Malcolm was hiding something. He seemed almost ashamed. Jon didn't expect details so soon after such a traumatic event, but there was a certain detail that the Lieutenant seemed almost afraid to reveal. "Is that all Lieutenant?"

Malcolm paused, eyes widening then snapping back to what seemed to be a very engrossing spot on the floor. "Yes, Sir."

Jon wanted to press him, especially as his own panic grew. What was horrible enough to make Malcolm Reed tell anything less than the complete truth to a superior officer? He shuddered at the thought. Still, he looked into the desperation and pain in the other man's eyes and knew better than to press him.

Just as a very awkward silence prepared to set in the doors to the operating room swung open reveling Dr. Plox in full surgical garb. Both men rose anxiously.

"How is he?" Jon managed to croak.

"He's going to be fine. He had several broken ribs and a small amount of internal bleeding, which I repaired in surgery just now. They broke all of the fingers on his left hand, which I have set. He will have to wear a cast, but they should heal nicely." Plox seemed so detached, almost cheerful. Jon figured he should be cheerful, Trip was alive. Still, he couldn't help but feel jealous that the doctor could escape this horrible pain that he felt in his very soul hearing him list off these injuries. Jon barely noticed Malcolm shifting impatiently beside him, "He's sedated right now. You may see him in recovery, Lieutenant. Right now I would like to have a private word with the Captain."

Jon nodded absently, following Phlox into his office without leaving his own world of sorrow. They broke his fingers...how could they be so cruel? Breaking an engineer's fingers was like stabbing out a photographer's eyes.

"Captain, there's something else you need to know." Now even Phlox looked uncomfortable. He must be imagining it.

"Yes, Doctor?" He tried not to betray the desperation in his voice. How could this get worse?

"The Commander has been sexually violated."

Jon felt his jaw drop. He couldn't speak. He couldn't even breathe. He wanted to let out a great cry of anguish right then and there. They had taken so much from his love and they had to go and take his dignity too? Take from him his most private, most sacred. He felt tears threatening to overwhelm him. He shivered, uncontrollably, "Did...here there..."

"There wasn't much resistance, Captain. He must have known it would only hurt him." Jon felt those words like a stab to the gut. He was glad Trip hadn't hurt himself fighting. If he had he might not be alive right now. Still, a part of him was angry. Why hadn't he fought? Did it mean so little to him that it wasn't worth fighting for? It wasn't like Trip to just be passive when he cared about something. He felt his anger turn to fear in a split second. What had they done to Trip to make him take it?

No wonder Reed was ashamed. He must have walked in on it. Jon clenched his fists. He could do this. He took a deep breath. "May I see him?"

Phlox nodded, allowing Jon to lead the way to the recovery area. Reed was sitting by Trip's side, preventing Jon from seeing either man's face. He could tell by the way his shoulder's shook that Malcolm was crying softly. How much had he seen? Jon couldn't bear to ask him. He just laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing a little too tightly as he glimpsed his love's face.

There were dark angry bruises forming along his cheekbones, and his right eye was swollen shut. There was similar bruising on his arms, and his left hand rested heavily on his chest completely wrapped in bandages. Jon thought he must be cutting off the circulation to Malcolm's arm with all of the pressure he was forced to put on it in order not to break down crying or punch something, because the Lieutenant stood quickly, barely letting Jon see his red rimmed eyes before he nodded, "Sir," and bolted for the exit.

"Take care of yourself, Malcolm." Jon managed numbly, eyes never really leaving the body before him.

"Yes, Sir." The voice was empty and distraught behind him. Was that his imagination projecting his emotions onto Malcolm, or did he really sound that depressed? Jon was underwater, barely registering it when Phlox followed the Lieutenant out, insisting that he take a sedative to help him sleep.

The second they had left the room, Jon broke down, grabbing Trip's unbandaged hand and holding onto it tightly, letting the silent tears fall.

He hadn't felt this helpless for nearly seven years. Since July 4th.

Jon was about to say that there was no way he would leave Trip behind, that would tantamount to killing himself, when Trip kissed him. It was a delicate caring kiss, brief, but moving. They didn't have to speak; both of them knew that, unlike the desperate kisses they shared last night, this was a kiss goodbye. Of course, unlike other goodbyes, they would see each other again on a daily basis before they could be reunited. It wasn't just saying goodbye to each other as lovers, but saying goodbye to the parts of themselves that had been complete in the other's arms.

A look of utter desperation passed between them, each begging the other to be the first to look away. They would have continued for an eternity, for neither could be the one to make that final break, but Admiral Forrest stepped through the door, "Alright boys, your public awaits." His smile faded as he saw the looks on his two officer's faces.

Trip managed to offer Jon a dimmed half-smile as they stepped out the door onto a patio overlooking the ocean. The sky was dark and brooding and the waves echoed emptily where they hit the seawall. They followed the Admiral up to a podium with their backs facing the ocean, looking into a crowd of reporters and Starfleet cadets.

Jon didn't even hear the Admiral's speech, as he fought to maintain that numbed smile. He couldn't dare to look at Trip, knowing that he would find the same forced jollity on his friend's face.

He didn't want to be here. He wanted to be back in Florida, holding Trip in his arms as they teased each other and flaunted their new relationship around the Tucker home. He felt trapped, claustrophobic. His collar really was too tight. He was on the verge of hyperventilating. History had played him for the fool and there was no way to escape his destiny. He was getting all he ever wanted only to see how it paled into comparison to what he could have had.

He was ready to bolt from this place, tender his resignation, Enterprise be damned, just to prove that he was still in control of his own life, that he could find his own happiness. The only thing that stopped him was a single bright face in the crowd.

Lizzie was clasping her knee length khaki raincoat close around her, unwieldy blond hair dulled to a muted brown by the mist of raindrops that clung to it, trying valiantly to soak up her warmth. She caught his eye and smiled encouragingly.

She knew what this must be doing to him. But did she know what had happened between them? He saw the sadness in her eyes as she looked at her brother and knew that she understood. The three of them were doomed to this pain of opportunities lost.

This was all her fault. If she hadn't showed him...he would be beyond happy now. He and Trip would have continued their friendship in blissful ignorance, completely unaware of what they could have had, he and Lizzie might even have been married by now, and they would all be overjoyed to be receiving promotions like this. He should be angry with her, but he couldn't bring himself to be. That one day was worth it all. He was blessed with a slice of heaven on earth and nothing could change that.

He heard clapping and took this as his cue to face the Admiral as he was rewarded with an insignia and a handshake. Cameras flashed, and he tried to put on a brave face as he came apart inside. It was final, official, sealed in stone, and there was no going back.

He was given the podium to speak. He was supposed to turn around and promote his best friend and would-be lover now, but he couldn't face him. He spoke quietly into the mike, "Thank you, Admiral. It has been a great honor to work to make my father's dream a reality and it will be an even greater privilege to command his ship in the future. I look forward to living out this dream and the dream of all mankind to truly explore the great beyond. In thinking about my father, and his dream, however, I am reminded of the people who work tirelessly beyond the scenes to make exploration possible. Today I am able both to take the first step toward a new era in human space travel, and recognize one of the men who has dedicated himself to it. I am pleased to promote an excellent engineer and friend to the rank of Commander. And present the chief engineer of the first Warp 5 vessel, Commander Charles Tucker the Third." Jon smiled, sincerely this time, as the crowd exploded with enthusiasm.

He faced Trip for the first time since they said goodbye, and the first look he saw on his face was surprise. He didn't think Jon could swing his place on Enterprise so quickly, little did he know that he hadn't. This was a preemptive strike. Sure Jon would be in trouble after his first act as Captain, but Starfleet couldn't very well change their minds after he had already announced it to the press. He beamed, quelling Trip's questioning expression, they would be together, and that was all that mattered.

Jon pinned an insignia to his friend's uniform and pulled him into a stiff embrace, just a shadow of the passion of days ago. He was pained at the loss of the intimacy that was so fresh in his mind. They were pressed together on that podium, but a million miles apart. He sighed whispering, "Congratulations, Trip," and knowing that every day for nine years would be every bit as difficult as this one.

And the days were. Jon could remember the pain of when Trip began dating again, though it paled in comparison to the pain they would both face in the years the followed. He should have expected it, Trip was nearly ten years younger than him, and Jon had been his first real prospect of a long-term relationship. Up until that moment on the beach and in intervals afterwards Trip had been a self- proclaimed womanizer. This never bothered Jon, it was just sex, never love. Still as Trip grew older he began to see more in some of the women. He started trying to experiment with commitment.

Jon couldn't help but be a bit jealous of Trip's girlfriends. He could barely stand watching them kiss those soft lips or seeing the way he laid an arm casually on their shoulder. He resented the fact that they were allow this privilege and that they took it for granted. What he wouldn't give for one of those intimate touches.

Jon knew that Trip wasn't trying to escape; in fact he would have happy if he could, he just feared that Trip would corner himself, seduced by the dream of happiness with someone else. Trip had always wanted children, 'some day,' and Jon hoped that he didn't condemn them to live with a father who saw their mother as second best.

As for Jon, he found that it really was true that once you had Tucker you never went back. He would indulge in a casual buddy- fuck occasionally, but his fame and rank made anonymity difficult and similar persons of equal rank few and far between. This was when most other men his age would get married, but Jon resigned himself to celibacy.

Not that he didn't think about children and a family life every now and then. Henry Archer had been a wonderful father to him, and he had always assumed that he would do the same for little tyke of his own. In fact, when Trip had inadvertently gotten pregnant, it took all of Jon's willpower to quash the fantasies of raising a Charles Tucker IV.

The strange thing was that the celibacy was a drop in the bucket compared to seeing but not having. But none of those horrible days could equal the pain of today, the day when he couldn't do quite enough to quell both their grief and fears.

As the sobs slowly subsided, Jon felt Trip relax into his arms, as though he had been there his entire life. They were melded as one in pain and grief. He had nearly forgotten how perfectly they fit together. Jon lay back and carefully cradled Trip in his arms, allowing the younger man to rest on his broad chest, delicate finger's feeling it rise and fall.

He could do this. He could be brave for Trip. He knew that when he heard it he would probably scream or cry of tear himself apart in guilt or anger, but he needed to hear it, if only because Trip needed someone to share this burden, and Jon wouldn't have anyone else do it. "Tell me about it." He commanded softly, rubbing comforting circles on Trip's back, trying to sooth his ragged breath.

"They wanted an engineer to help them build a weapon. They bought to plans and the supplies o the black market, but were incapable of adapting it to their systems. Of course I couldn't just get the parts and get out, I had to chat with them about their engines, find out how they were dealing with the navigational problems in the expanse."

Jon stroked soft golden hair and sighed, "It's not your fault. You were just being helpful."

Trip sniffled, "I know. I was looking for information just like any good engineer. I just answered all of their questions right. One moment I was discussing plasma flow and the next I was on a cold damp floor with a headache and a large bump behind my left ear."

"At first they didn't seem like particularly bad people. They made an effort to treat me well. I was fed and given warm blankets on which to sleep. They were desperate, after all. Apparently their people are in the midst of a civil war. Most of the engineers and scientists on their planet have already died or are needed just to keep their ships flying. They ventured out here to seek help and to find a weapon that would give them an edge in the war. While I could never condone their actions, their cause was a noble one, to topple a despotic and authoritarian government. I even developed a grudging respect for them. And, hell, they knew their guerilla tactics. They kept me separate from Malcolm the entire time, so that we wouldn't be able to plan an escape. I always knew he was okay though, they would bring me to see him every day just for a little while."

Of course Jon already knew all of this, it had all been in the Lieutenant's report. He also knew that Trip had built the weapon, but something had gone wrong. "So you built the weapon?"

" Do you really think that little of me, Jon?" He cringed. He didn't think Trip was the kind to submit to the will of his kidnappers, even if their actions were justified in a perverse kind of way. He was just too goddamn stubborn. He would never risk the lives of thousands for his own personal safety.

"Of course not, Trip. But I have Malcolm's report."

"You know I would never have wish what happened on earth on anyone else, but I would do anything to get back to Enterprise, the knowledge I gained was too important. You see, the weapon I was buildin' was the same as the one the Xindi used on Earth, and after seeing the schematics I know how to defeat it."

Jon hugged the other man close, kissing him gently on the forehead. They had picked up the weapon's signature and changed course immediately for the planet, abandoning their search for their colleagues, as much as that had killed him to do so. He remembered crying the night away in his quarters holding Porthos tight.

"I made it so it would only work for a short burst, enough for the detection system me and T'Pol installed in the long range sensors to register it. Our captors didn't know the difference. They used it to blow up a few military bases before the system overloaded. Of course that left us defenseless when the enemy retaliated."

Jon fought the tears that once again fought to overwhelm him. "You were captured."

"The weapon's system was fried beyond recognizability, but even after the massacred the crew, it was pretty damn obvious who had built it. I guess those guerilla tactics did come in useful after all. I mean, they had no idea 'bout Malcolm." He shrugged. "At least he didn't have to go through what I did."

Jon felt him tremble in his arms. He wanted to kiss all of that pain and make it go away, to hold this man forever and make up for every wrong he had suffered.

"They were merciless, Jon." He had seen the medical reports, he already knew. "They didn't just murder them in cold blood, they had fun with it. They used them in knife throwing practice. They tortured some, even when it was obvious that they had no information. They severed heads and flayed carcasses, everything you think is only possible in your nightmares." He buried his face in Jon's chest, gripping his tear stained blue uniform tightly in his fists. Still, Jon was amazed, all of the things done to him, and Trip could only think of the suffering of others. "They left me in a room alone with the carcasses for the night. There was so much blood, Jon. I just sat in the middle of it all and cried. A part of me wished you were there, but then again, I wouldn't want you to have these images burned into the back of your mind."

His soul ached. Even if they weren't together, it was as though they were bonded. He could feel the pain flowing in his blood, more than simple empathy. If Trip hurt, he hurt, it was that simple.

"I...I think that Malcolm tried to contact me then. I heard a voice calling my name, but I could have imagined it. I couldn't move. I was surrounded by bodies, I would have had to practically swim through them to reach the com system. My mind played it off as ghosts. I was just so scared."

"Shh..." Jon cooed, tightening his embrace until Trip let out a small gasp of pain. He had forgotten that his friend was still recovering. He released his arms immediately, cursing himself.

"Don't let go," Trip pleaded shivering in the sudden absence of warmth. Jon replaced his arms, lightly this time. He just wanted to pull Trip to him, as close as he could so he could protect him from his demons, both real and imaginary. He could feel the body on top of him relax back into his embrace and with a shaky voice continue, "I resolved that I would take up their cause, and tell my captors nothing. If I did, they would have died those horrible deaths in vain. I mean it was my fault we were in this position to begin with. I built those flaws into the weapon, I knew what would happen."

"You did the right thing. I wasn't your war. You couldn't be expected to decide who would win a conflict you knew nothing about, even if you did feel sympathy for one side over the other. Who knows, they could have done the same thing to you as the enemy if you didn't cooperate."

Trip shook his head, "Even if that were true, the still wouldn't deserve what happened to them. No one deserves that."

Jon nodded. He didn't think he could love Trip Tucker any more than he already did, but he found himself awestruck and reeling at seeing the true benevolence of his soul. Compassionate even when his world had been torn apart. Jon doubted that he himself had that kind of courage.

"I could take the beatings. It's not like I haven't been smacked around before. Hell, when they broke my fingers I didn't even scream. But..." It was one thing to hear it coming from Phlox, in his detached but compassionate clinical tone, and another hearing from the lips of the one he loved. Jon cringed, burying the anger and the grief. He had to be strong. He had to be supportive. He couldn't crack, that was the last thing Trip needed, to worry about him too, "they knew found the one thing that could break me, even if I never spoke a word."

Jon knew it was coming. He had known it since he walked in the door, but he still shifted uncomfortably, careful not to jar his friend's fragile form. He could do this. All he had to do was listen, after all, when Trip had done so much more. "I wanted to die, Jon. I wanted to fight before he took everything that matters to me away, but I didn't. I knew that if I fought I might actually die from my injuries before you guys came to rescue me, and the knowledge to save Earth might die with me." His voice was thick with shame. Cold and quiet, it ripped Jon apart from inside out. Where had all of Trip's willful rebellion gone? Had he truly surrendered?

As much as it saddened him, Jon was proud of his friend. He had truly made the ultimate sacrifice for his people. "You're a hero." He whispered.

Trip didn't even stop to consider the complement. Jon could see the lost look in his eyes, his thoughts fighting to resolve themselves. "You were the only man I had ever been with, Jon. Even when I tried to move on, to be with other women, it was more in hopes of raising a family or finding comfort in physical pleasures. But there was one thing that I shared with you and only you. It was that memory that kept me going all these years, especially after Lizzie's death."

"It's because of her that we even had that."

"What?"

"I never told you, but right after I broke up with Maya, I tried to put the moves on Lizzie?"

"You tried to deflower my little sister?!" Jon couldn't help but chuckle at the venom in Trip's voice and the way he tried weakly to push away from Jon's embrace, Even after all they'd been through, even when Lizzie was dead and gone, he was still the overprotective big brother.

"Not deflower, Trip. I thought I was in love with her. Even though she thought that it could have worked, she pushed me away. She didn't want to be a substitute for you. She opened my eyes, Trip, let me see how much I was in love with you." Despite the situation, if felt so good to discuss their relationship openly like this. No more two-word sentences, just an honest acknowledgement of the love that was still there.

"I'm in love with you too, Johnny. And for the longest time, those memories were enough. I thought no one could take those memories from me; they would always be mine to cherish. July 3rd, that was our day. No matter what else happened, I still had July 3rd to remind me that even if the world got really ugly, there was still love in it."

He didn't want to be cruel, he knew how hard this was for Trip, but a certain spiteful wounded part of him exploded and he blurted out, "Then why do you regret it?"

"Because they tainted it. Made everything wonderful and sacred about it dirty and disgusting. I can't even think of sex with another man, even you, without wanting to throw up. He was gentle, almost loving. It reminded me so much of you." He let out a choked sob; "He made it so that I was completely aroused, even if I knew intellectually what was going on. My body remembered how you touched me. Then, just as I thought I was actually gong to come, he reached out and squeezed my broken fingers. I...I can't even remember making love to you without remembering the pain or the disgrace."

Jon was beyond horrified. He burned both with hatred for these people, even if they had lost the war, and with his own selfish pain. Was Trip telling him that even if they waited until Enterprise returned to Earth, they wouldn't be together? He wasn't sure he could carry on, knowing that.

He knew it was completely irrational, and probably the last thing that Trip needed at the moment. In fact, all of his words were warning him against this very course of action, but Jon's subconscious didn't care. It just charged right ahead just as it had done that night on the beach so many years ago. He pulled Trip's head down to him, giving him the gentlest of kisses.

It had been so long since their lips met like this, but all those years collapsed down to seconds and it was as though they had never been apart. They could truly get lost in each other. As he felt the kiss deepen, his love granting him access to the sensuous cavern of his mouth, he knew that this was all they both needed to heal, that this was the only thing that could keep them compassionate and sane in such terrible times.

Jon felt all of the passion of years of repression wash over him in an overwhelming flood. Still, his actions were tempered by a caring so deep that he felt it in his very bones. He slid his hands delicately under the engineer's loose T-shirt, realizing that it was actually one of his. They refamiliarized themselves with each other's bodies, exploring every inch of skin with their arms. He could feel a newly formed lattice of scars on the once smooth back, marking plain both the years that had passed and how much had changed. He could feel his eyes tear up even as Trip was frantically tearing at his uniform, just to feel the warm comfort of his skin. Of course, they eventually had to come up for air, and the second their mouths parted, their momentum ebbed and they had to question. In fact it was their duty to question, it always had been.

"I can't do this."

"We don't have to make love." Jon said gently. He didn't see how Trip could even want to kiss him, let alone want to take off his cloths after all he had been through. "I just want to be with you, show you how much I still love you. We'll do whatever you're comfortable with."

Trip shook his head, "That's not what I meant, Johnny. I trust you, and I know that you'd take everything I just said seriously. I meant that nothing's changed. The rules haven't changed just because I..." was he really going to say it? "Was raped." The words still hurt and still filled him with barely controllable anger, but they didn't sound as hopeless as he had feared. They could do this. They could get through it, together.

Of course, Trip was still trying to be superman, "And as right as this feels now, we'll both regret it tomorrow. I could stand to live without you before, but I can't do it now. "

Jon looked into those serious blue eyes and saw the pain that dwelt there. He didn't give a damn about duty. They had already sacrificed too much for duty. It was time that they had something for themselves. In all likelihood, they wouldn't survive this upcoming conflict with the Xindi, and Jon knew that his soul would never be at peace if Trip had to die carrying the burden of these events alone when Jon could have healed him. "You won't have to."

"But the crew...our careers."

"The crew will understand. They've seen how I've never been biased towards you as your best friend, and they trust us enough to know that that won't change. And what is Starfleet going to do, recall us? We'll face the music when we get back, but I don't care. I'd be happy scrubbing the intake valves on some deep space freighter as long as you were there with me."

Trip didn't answer, he just leaned forward for a soul- shattering kiss, even better than all of that lost time, because it was a promise too. They silently promised each other that they would be there to complete each other no matter what.

Captain Jonathan Archer awoke to the most beautiful sight of all his long years. Two brilliant blue eyes were studying him carefully, and all he could see in them was love, so deep that he could feel it sing with the reciprocal feelings in his own heart. And after all these years he had found another one of Trip's smiles, the one like a rainbow after a storm, the pure joy of the weight of the world being lifted from his shoulders.

Jon traced a hand down a beautifully sculpted chest, over the bandages that restrained his lover's broken ribs and down the soft fuzz that covered his taunt stomach. They hadn't made love. Even if Trip's psyche had been willing, Jon wouldn't have dared it while he was still recovering from his injuries. He could wait. As long as he could hold Trip close he could wait for an eternity. And they had done just that, kissed and held each other. It had been more electric than even that first time with the waves licking at their feet.

Trip's reverent smile of simple relief had transformed itself into another smile that only Jon had the pleasure of seeing, the dopey lovesick grin. "No regrets?"

Jon mirrored his unabashedly sappy expression, giving his soulmate a careful peck on the lips, saying the words for the first time years, completely honestly, "No regrets."