Trip sighed.  “You know, he said, dreamily, “I feel like I could just fall up there.  Into the stars.”

Lying beside him, Archer made a noise that indicated assent, and looked up again into the deep, velvet bowl of the night sky, with its thousands of sparkling, beguiling lights, and felt their siren call once again.  His gaze followed the thick, creamy band of the milky way as it crossed the heavens, and then he looked over at the slim figure lying beside him.  He took a deep breath, enjoying the sweet night smell, a combination of earth, wind and fire, intermingled with the heady scent of green growing things. 

The fire he and Trip had built crackled merrily away, and cast a warm glow over them.  He could hear, very faintly, the sounds from the survey team from across the lake.

He lifted his head, looked across the still dark waters, saw the dim glow of their fire, and heard distant laughter.  “They’re having fun over there,” he said, as the laughter gave way to singing.

“Yep,” Trip agreed.  “A real camp-out.  I wouldn’t be surprised if they roasted marshmallows later on.”

Archer looked at him.  “Sure you don’t want to join in?”

Trip stretched.  “No,” he said decisively.  “You and I would only crimp their style.  Can’t have fun when the senior staff is looking over your shoulder.”  He looked over at the Captain.  “Speaking of not having fun, where’s Subcommander T’Pol?”

“On board Enterprise.  She doesn’t share our love of camping.  Sleeping on hard ground without proper sanitation can hardly be called recreational,” he quoted.

Trip laughed.  “Sounds like her.  Ah, well,” and he rolled onto his side,  “each to their own.”

Archer looked over at him, noting how the fire cast highlights on the blond hair; how it defined the firm planes of throat and jaw, how it accentuated the twinkle of those blue eyes.  He turned to Trip, and his face only inches away from the engineer’s, said, “I guess.”  Then, softly he asked, “And are you my own?”

Trip smiled.  “What do you think?”

Archer leaned forward, kissed him.  “I know I’m yours.”  He took Trip in his arms, nuzzled his neck. “Happy?” 

His lover sighed in contentment.  “You bet.  And you?”

Archer nibbled gently on the younger man’s ear.  “When I’m with you, I am.  But you already knew that.”

“You’re awfully mushy tonight.”

“You got a problem with that?”

“Just out of character for a hard-ass like you, that’s all.”

“Brat.”

“Bastard.”

They both smiled.  Trip then shifted in Archer’s arms, and kissed him, slowly and thoroughly.  When they finally broke apart, both were breathing a little faster.

Archer slipped a hand under Trip’s shirt, found one of his nipples and began to gently manipulate it.  Trip groaned very slightly in response.  Archer pulled the engineer’s shirt off, and gently pushed him onto his back, began using his tongue to pleasure his lover. 

Trip sighed, closed his eyes.  “Jon,” he protested half-heartedly, “someone might see.”

Archer did not answer right away.  Instead, he removed Trip’s boots and socks.  “Yes, they might,” he finally agreed.  The engineer’s trousers followed.  “They might come across us.”  He slipped his hand under the waistband of Trip’s briefs.  “They might see me doing things to you.”  Trip caught his breath.  “Things like this,” Archer continued.  “But somehow, I don’t think you’re going to want me to stop.  No matter if the whole damn crew ends up watching.” 

Trip made a faint sound, and closed his eyes while Archer slipped his briefs off.  He shivered.  Not with cold, but with excitement.  The thought that they might be discovered was stimulating, making their lovemaking seem more delicious.  Exotic.  Even a little forbidden.  He moaned; Jon’s lips were travelling across and down him, now dipping into intimate – and familiar – territory.  He whimpered, and Jon stopped. 

“Ssh.”  The Captain placed one large, strong hand over Trip’s mouth.  “No noise.  You know how sound travels.”

He removed his hand, and Trip whispered,  “How are you planning to shut me up?”

“Like this.”  And he kissed Trip again.

Trip wriggled and moaned, deep in his throat.  He unbuttoned Jon’s shirt, and ran his hands through the luxuriant mat of hair that grew on his lover’s broad, muscular chest.  He began sucking on Jon’s nipples, using his tongue in a way he knew Jon liked.  Now it was the Captain’s turn to moan.   Trip grinned.  “Quiet,” he told his lover with pretended severity, and removed Jon’s shirt.  When he continued to undress the Captain, Jon groaned again.  “What did I tell you?”

For an answer, Jon grabbed him, kissed him.  In turn, Trip wrapped himself around the older man.  Naked, they lay, belly to belly, enjoying the sensuous feel of flesh on flesh.  Their kisses were now frantic, passionate.  Trip whimpered as Jon ran his hands over him, strong fingers leaving trails of pleasure in their wake.  He could feel himself stiffening in response, and he whimpered yet again when Jon took his erect sex in hand and began to slowly manipulate him.  Jon silenced him with a deep kiss.  He arched himself up against the older man, ran his hands down the broad, long back, then grabbed Jon's ass.  “Do me,” he pleaded.  “Do me, Jon.”

Archer ignored his pleas.  Instead, he simply continued his slow, steady manipulations.  He enjoyed teasing Trip, and Trip, for all of his protestations, loved being teased.  “You’re sure?” he finally asked his young lover.  He nibbled and sucked on Trip’s earlobe.  “Some one might see, you know.”  Trip quivered in response.  Archer continued stroking him.  “Well?”

“They might,” was the hoarse response.  “And right now, I really don’t give a damn if they do.”  Archer did something delightful to him, and he cried out softly.  “Jon,” he finally managed, “No more teasing.  Please.”

“Patience, brat,” Archer murmured.  And he continued.

“Oh, God – Jon.  Please.  Enough.  Don’t be such a bastard.”  He arched himself up against his lover again, wriggled.  “Please.  Don’t make me beg this time.”

Archer was unrelenting; he continued his caresses; slow, teasing touches, and long, deliberate strokes of his lover’s sex.  Trip whimpered again.  Archer finally took pity on him, and tightened his grip, stroking him harder and faster.  Trip made faint, frantic sounds, deep in his throat.  He clung helplessly to Archer, crying out softly, then tensed, arched his back and buried his face in the older man’s neck, muffling his cries as he climaxed.  Slowly, he relaxed.  “Oh, God,” he sighed. 

Archer continued to caress his back, then kissed him.  “Just a minute.”

Trip watched through pleasure-sleepy eyes as his lover disappeared into their tent, then came back out with the lube.  Jon kissed him.  “Ready?”  Trip murmured his assent, and was kissed again while Jon readied himself.

Entering Trip was like entering paradise.  And then all coherent thought was swept away by a red haze of passion.  He plunged into Trip, his hands wandering across his lover’s body, while Trip made small, inarticulate sounds of pleasure in reply. 

His lover was already erect again, and squirmed under his touch.  Instinctively, he took Trip in hand, began stroking him again in time to his thrusts.  Those small, helpless sounds Trip was continuing to make increased in time to the rhythm he was setting, penetrating into his consciousness, swelling his excitement to a fever pitch.  He cried out softly as he climaxed, and a moment later, Trip followed him, arching his back and whimpering as he reached his own peak.

Slowly, they both relaxed.  Archer sighed in contentment and kissed the nape of Trip’s neck.  His lover sighed, turned to face him, slipped his arms around him, pulled him close and kissed him.

“How was that, my own?”  Archer murmured.

“Terrific.  As usual.”  Trip nuzzled Archer’s neck, and the Captain smiled in response.

They lay quietly for a time under the star-speckled sky, enjoying the warmth of each other’s body and the close physical contact.  Trip made a small, snuggling movement, indicative of contentment, and broke the silence.  “Want to go for seconds?”

Archer groaned theatrically.   “Have pity on a poor old codger,” he pleaded.

Trip smiled.  “You’re not that old.”

Archer kissed him.  “Thanks.”  Although the truth was, there were times when he did worry about whether he would be able to keep Trip satisfied.  He looked at his lover, and Trip, who was far more sensitive than most gave him credit for, immediately picked up on his concern.  “It’s all right, Jon.”

“Is it?”

“Jon?”

“Since you’ve gotten your ‘appetite’ back, you’re a hard man to satisfy.  Sometimes I wonder if I can keep you happy.”

Trip was silent, and Archer wondered if he had erred in reminding his lover, however obliquely, of his past trauma.  Being kidnapped and then sold as a sex slave was something that was going to take a long time for Trip to get over.  He was better, but still carried the memories of his ordeal close to him.

However, it was difficult not to mention it, especially in the context of their conversation.  It was the “training” that Trip had received which directly affected their sex life; the younger man was able to go for hours, if need be, and was also able to regain an erection quickly after climaxing.  Whether or not it was a lingering after-effect of the training or the drugs that had been used to accomplish all of this, Trip could be almost insatiable at times.

Then Trip leaned in and kissed him.  Very softly.  Very gently.  “You are the biggest idiot I’ve ever run across,” he said, with great affection.

“Huh?”

“Don’t you remember what you told me?  When I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to be intimate with you?”

“I have a vague recollection of such a conversation.”

“Well, then, let me refresh your memory for you, grandpa.  You said, and I quote, that sex was ‘like dessert’.  Nice, but not necessary.”

“You using my own words against me now?”

Trip was suddenly serious.  “Not against you, Jon.  For you.”  He nuzzled Archer’s neck.  “You know, if all I wanted was to get laid, I could.  Easy.”

Archer nodded.  Trip was extremely attractive, and there were any number of women (and men) on board Enterprise who would be more than happy to accommodate him.

His lover continued.  “You know I generally don’t go in for sentimental stuff.  But I’m happy with you, Jon.  I don’t want anyone else.  And I’m happy in every way you can think of.  Okay?”

“Okay,” Archer agreed.  He kissed Trip.

“You know,” Trip said thoughtfully, “for an old codger, you don’t do so bad.”

Archer laughed.  “Thanks.  And I’ll prove just how well I can do tomorrow.  That’s a promise, okay?”

Trip smiled.  “Not to worry.”

“No, really,” Archer told him earnestly.  “Tomorrow.  For sure.”

As it turned out, he was wrong about that.

*  *  *

“Holy – “ Trip began, amazed.  He looked at his scanner for confirmation, then up at Archer.  “According to these scans, Captain, these caves are just lousy with dilithium.”  He gave a low whistle.  “If I’m reading this thing right, there’s enough here to keep my engines going for damn-well-ever.”  He looked over at the Captain.  “I’m glad you decided that we should check these caverns out, sir.”

Those words would come back later to haunt him during the long, long watches of the night, but for now, Archer simply grinned at his chief engineer.  “Told you,” he said, a trifle smugly.  “That’ll teach you to doubt your captain now, won’t it?”

Trip rolled his eyes.  “Yes, sir.”  He frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ah, it’s this weird combination of elements around here.  Makes getting an accurate reading difficult – even up close.”

Archer nodded.  Subcommander T’Pol had been extremely frustrated by this very same phenomenon.  He knew this because she had actually come out and said something about it.  For a Vulcan, this was the equivalent of having a screaming temper tantrum.  “Not to mention that it also renders the transporter useless.”

“Yeah, I know.  We’re going to have to ferry the stuff up by shuttlepod.  Tote that barge, lift that bale and all that.  Still, it’ll be worth it.  We’ll have enough for our needs, plus surplus that we can use to bargain with.”

“You’ve been thinking again, Commander.”

Trip grinned.  “Despite what you may have heard, Captain, I do occasionally do that.”  He took a few steps further into the cavern, then looked inquiringly over his shoulder.  “Coming?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Together, they made their way down the sloping floor, following the tunnel deeper into the planet, while Trip continued to study his scanner while Archer held his flashlight aloft, illuminating their path.  After a few minutes, Archer stopped, flipped open his communicator. 

“Reed.”

“Archer here.  Just checking in.  Trip and I are exploring the underground caverns.  We’ll check back in half an hour or so.”

“If you would, sir,” Reed replied, “I would prefer if you made that 15 minutes.”

Trip rolled his eyes.  His expression said, more clearly than words ever could, that Malcolm Reed was, bar none, the biggest worrier and anal-retentive, all-round pain in the ass in the entire universe.  Archer tipped him a wink, and got a Trip Tucker grin – bright enough to light up the cave – in response.  “Very well, Lieutenant,” he said patiently.  “15 minutes it is.”  He closed the communicator, pocketed it.  “Let’s go.”

A few minutes later, they came to a spot where the tunnel branched off into two separate corridors.  Trip stopped, frowned at his scanner.  Archer came up behind him.  “Well, Columbus?”

Trip gave him a look.  “Columbus didn’t have a damned clue where he was going.  You do realize that, right?”

“Unlike you, I suppose.”

“You bet your ass.”  He frowned again.  “Hard to be sure, but the readings I’m getting indicate a higher concentration is that way.”  And he pointed to his left.

“You sure?”

“Not a hundred percent, no.  There are tunnels all over the place, and they’re pretty close together – almost overlapping.  Screws the readings up.  But my best guess is the left-hand one.”

“Well, no harm in trying, is there?  Let’s see what we can find.”  Later, he was to wonder what would have happened if they had taken the right hand side instead.  “Lead on.”

They continued on their way.  A few hundred meters later, it ended, blocked by a rock fall.  Trip stopped.

“Dilithium?” Archer asked him.

“Further on.  Past that rock fall.”  He sighed.  “Looks like we’re going to have to do some old-fashioned digging.”

“Let’s go back and try the other tunnel first,” Archer suggested.  “You were getting readings there, too, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, I was.”

Archer’s communicator chose that moment to sound.  “Has it been 15 minutes already?”  Trip shook his head.  Archer shrugged.  “Archer.”

“Sir.”  It was Reed.  “I’ve just heard from Enterprise.  They’re picking up seismic disturbances in this area.  There’s so much interference and distortion that they can’t be precisely certain of where – or even when – they started.  But I would recommend that you and Commander Tucker return to base camp.”

“I agree.”  He pocketed the communicator, and he and Trip started back up the tunnel, when suddenly, a low, ominous rumble could be heard.  Before either could react, the quake hit.  The ground undulated sickeningly beneath their feet, the solid rock suddenly as liquid and fluid as water.  Another rumble rolled through the tunnel.

He heard Trip yell.  The engineer launched himself in a flying tackle, hitting Archer square amidships, sending him sprawling.  What the hell?  Archer thought, dazedly.  He felt a spray of pebbles bounce off his back, and then knew no more.

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