Archer had to restrain himself from leaping to his feet.  Instead, he forced himself to lean back and coolly survey the scene, as Trip and his guards approached him.

They stopped, and one of the guards put his hand on Trip’s shoulder, pressed.  Immediately, the younger man knelt, crossed his hands behind his back, and bowed his head.  At no time had he looked up.  Archer doubted that Trip was even aware of who was sitting in front of him.

“As you can see – “ Lord Maya began. 

Archer cut him off.  “I have yet to see anything,” he declared imperiously.  At the sound of his voice, Trip started, very slightly, but remained kneeling submissively before him.  Archer stood.

“That’s right, pet,” he said.  His voice was soft and gentle; a very different tone from that he used when speaking to his hosts.  The Volashas started, and exchanged worried look; this was something that Archer was extremely pleased to note.  “Your master has come to take you home.”

Trip did not reply.  Archer raised a brow in surprise.  Eager to curry favor, Lady Vala said, “He was rather talkative when he first arrived.  As you can see, we have trained him to be otherwise.”

Archer didn’t want to think about what they had done to Trip in order to get these results.  He was afraid that if he knew the answer, he would not be responsible for his actions.  And that would not help get Trip out of here.  “A pity,” he replied mildly.  “I enjoyed my chatterbox.”

Lady Vala looked distinctly unsettled at this.  Good, he thought, savagely.  He was angrier than he had ever remembered being.  He was no Vulcan, able to turn his emotions on and off as if they flowed from a spigot, but at least he could use that anger to his own ends.  At the very least, he planned to make this pair as uncomfortable as he could before he spirited Trip out of this house of horrors.

He put a gentle hand on Trip’s shoulder.  The engineer started, very slightly, and that only deepened Archer’s anger.  What have they done to you?  He was only afraid of what he himself might have to do in order to carry out this charade.  What would that do to Trip?  “On your feet, pet,” he said tenderly.  “Let me look at you.”

Trip immediately obeyed.  He stood, eyes still downcast, while Archer looked him up and down.  He immediately noticed something disturbing.  “He’s lost weight,” he said abruptly to Lord Maya.  Then, in a gentler tone to Trip:  “Been upset, have you, pet?”

He looked at his host and hostess, hazel eyes glinting with anger.  “Did no one in this household of yours notice he was not eating?  Do you have an idiot for a Household Master?”

“Truly,” Lady Vala began, I don’t know how this could have happened.  I will speak to Al-Saahn – “

“What is THIS?!!!” Archer roared at the top of his lungs, causing everyone to jump.

“Captain?” Lord Maya asked.  Archer reached over, hauled the man to his feet.  “This!” he snarled, pointing to a livid bruise on Trip’s side, while holding his host by the scruff of his neck.  “Is this what you call good treatment?” he demanded.  “You assured me that he had been unharmed!”

“Captain – please,” the Lord said, his normally deep voice a frightened squeak.

“Explain,” Archer ordered.

“One of the household guards was too severe in handling him,” his host said hurriedly.  “He has been disciplined.  Severely,” he added.

Slowly, Archer released him from his grip.  “Very well,” he said grudgingly.  He then smiled, straightened the man’s robe and patted him on the cheek.  I’m behaving like someone out of the “Godfather”, he thought with sour amusement. 

Lord Maya swallowed, and a look of pure fear had replaced the initial caution in his eyes.  As for Lady Vala, she had cringed back into her seat, her eyes wide with alarm.  Archer was profoundly pleased to see this.  “I accept your apologies,” he said, and smiled again.  Lord Maya, pale and perspiring, still managed to smile back.

Archer transferred his attention back to Trip.  When he spoke, his voice was soft and gentle.  “Turn, pet,” he said.  He remembered T’Pol’s dry, measured tones:  “The more that they believe that the Commander is greatly beloved by you, then by their social values, the greater is the wrong that they have done you.  Therefore, you must convince them that the Commander is one of your most precious possessions.”

Trip silently obeyed.  In addition to his anger, Archer was also becoming alarmed.  This silent, withdrawn automaton was not the Trip Tucker he knew.  Just do what you have to in order to get him out of here, he thought.  Although he was increasingly afraid of what that was going to entail.  The damage to their friendship might prove to be irreparable.  Fine, he thought, If I save him only to lose him, it’s a small price.  One I’ll gladly pay. 

“Stop,” he told Trip.  He touched the younger man’s shoulder blade, where a new tattoo, raw as a scar, was visible.

“For identification purposes,” Lady Vala offered timidly.

“I dislike anything that mars this beautiful back,” Archer replied shortly.  She flinched again, and he was bitterly pleased.  “No matter,” he added off-handedly, “My personal physician is very skilled – he will be able to repair this damage.”  He laid a faint stress on the word “damage”, and was pleased to see that both his hosts looked even uneasier. 

It was true that he trusted Phlox would be able to repair all of Trip’s physical hurts.  But what of the others?  He sighed, inwardly.  “Turn back, pet,” he said softly.  Trip did so, and Archer took his chin in his hand, and tilted his head up, so that he could look directly into those blue eyes.  Eyes, that were, he noted unhappily, bleak and frighteningly blank.  A snatch of an old nursery rhyme came back to him “... and all the king’s horses and all the king’s men ...”  Who was going to put Trip back together again?  I’m going to do my best to try, he thought, even if I have to move heaven and earth to do so.  If he’ll let me.  If he’ll let me.

He smiled.  “I’ve been worried about you, beautiful,” he said.  “I’ll never forgive myself for allowing you to be stolen away from me in the first place.  I’ve been looking high and low for you ever since.”  This, at least, was the truth; Archer had made it Enterprise’s only mission to search for their missing chief engineer.

He ran his hands gently down Trip’s arms.  Trip trembled very slightly in response.  “It’s all right, my pet,” Archer soothed.  “I’m not angry.  I know you didn’t run away.  You wouldn’t run away, now would you, my own?”

Trip shook his head very slightly.  “And now I’ve found you,” Archer continued.  “And I’m here to take you home with me.  I’m going to keep you safe from now on.  No one will ever take you again.”

Trip nodded.  Archer smiled at him.  “That’s my pet,” he said.  He leaned forward, suddenly, and kissed Trip.  It was a demanding, insistent, masterful kiss.  He forced his tongue between the younger man’s lips, and drew him close, running his hands up and down his back.  Trip stiffened for a moment, then relaxed into his embrace, submitting to Archer’s intentions.  Timidly, he slipped his arms around the Captain’s waist, and Archer breathed a mental sigh of relief.  Thank God, he thought.  Obviously, Trip understood the need for this charade.  I’m so sorry Trip. I wish I didn’t have to do this.

He broke off his kiss.  “You still taste as sweet as ever, my beauty.”  He knew for a master to kiss a slave meant that the slave was highly valued, a favorite, and greatly loved by his or her master.  A most precious possession, indeed.  He leaned forward, kissed Trip along the line of his jaw.  “I’m sorry,” he murmured in a low voice into Trip’s ear.  Trip did not respond, but neither did he tense up when Archer caressed him again, running his hands up and down the younger man’s back.

Archer stepped back, turned to the two Tasumi who were watching all of this.  “Fortunately,” he said, “the damage appears to be minor.”

The Lord and Lady both breathed an obvious sigh of relief.  Archer took Trip by the hand.  “Come, pet.”

“Wait!”  Lord Maya stood.  “You must allow us to show you the proper hospitality,” he protested, frightened but resolute. 

Archer sighed inwardly.  T’Pol had warned him about this.  Were he to leave before all the formalities (including dinner and the entertainment) were complete, the Volashas would be irretrievably shamed.  They would lose face to the extent that they might never regain it. 

And in this society, death was preferable to losing face.  And should that be the case, having lost face, they would then have nothing else left to lose.  T’Pol had stated in her calm, dispassionate voice that in such a scenario, the chances would be good that they would kill both Archer and Trip rather than allow that to happen.

Archer smiled ruefully.  “But of course.  Please, forgive my lack of manners.  In my delight and relief at the safe return of my beloved pet, I forgot how to behave properly.”  He looked at Trip.  “I’ve waited this long,” he said.  “I suppose waiting a little longer won’t hurt, will it?  After all, anticipation is sweet, is it not, my beauty?”  Trip nodded. 

Lord Maya looked immensely relieved.  “The feast awaits you.”  He nodded to the two guards, who stepped forward, preparing to take Trip. 

For a brief instant, Archer was tempted to let them.  He could spare Trip a great deal if he did.  But if he did, that would give lie to the idea that Trip was his beloved pet.  And should any doubt arise in the minds of his hosts, then he and Trip might not make it out of here alive.  Or, possibly, they would dispose of him and keep Trip.  Neither possibility was an appetizing one. 

All of this went through his mind in a second or two.  He shook his head, and pulled Trip to him, put a possessive arm around the engineer’s waist.  “I will not let my pet out of my sight,” he said firmly.  “I’m sure you understand.”

“But of course,” Lord Maya said quickly.  “Whatever you wish.”

What Archer really wished was to get the hell out of here and away from this place as quickly as possible. 

Barring that, he would like to get a robe or something to cover Trip up.  He hated having to humiliate him like this.  But if he wanted to convince these two that Trip was indeed his own personal slave, then he could not do anything to contradict this.  Not wishing to have his “pet’s” body on view at all times for his enjoyment would be far too suspicious on his part.  Once again, he found himself silently apologizing to Trip.  I wish it didn’t have to be this way, my friend.

“This way,” his host said.  Archer took Trip by the hand, and followed, into an ornate dining room.  Three chairs were ranged around a long table, and Archer, as honored guest, was seated at the head. 

Trip made as if to stand behind him, but Archer stopped him.  He looked around.  “A cushion, if you please,” he said.  His host and hostess looked surprised.  “A cushion,” he repeated, allowing an edge to appear in his voice.  “Surely you don’t expect me to make my pet sit on this hard floor, do you?”  When no answer was forthcoming, he added angrily, “I will not allow any more damage to be done to him.”

Lord Maya snapped his fingers.  There was a flurry of movement, and a moment later, a servant entered, bearing a small square pillow.  Archer shook his head.  “Not acceptable.”

This caused even more frantic activity.  Archer took a certain perverse pleasure in making them bring him a number of different pillows and cushions until he found one he deemed to be acceptable – barely.

It was placed on the floor, and silently, Trip knelt beside him.  “Have you forgotten, pet?” Archer admonished kindly.  “Sit, don’t kneel.  I don’t want you getting leg cramps.  It’s obvious I’m going to have to remind you again as to what your true master prefers.”  But he smiled gently as he said it.

Trip silently obeyed, sitting quietly beside him.  Archer pulled him closer, until his head was resting on the Captain’s thigh.  Trip sighed very faintly, and relaxed against him.  Archer kept one possessive hand on Trip, idly stroking his shoulders and neck.  “That’s better,” he said.  “Comfortable, my own?”

Trip nodded mutely.  Archer was becoming increasingly concerned by the younger man’s silence.  Oh, well – only a little while longer and then we’re gone.  And when I get him back to Enterprise, he can talk a blue streak for as long as he likes.

Lord Maya exchanged a glance with his wife.  Truly, the Captain was greatly enamoured of this slave.  How fortunate that he had decided to forgive them!  Maya felt as if he had had a narrow escape.  It was as if he had just narrowly avoided being hit by a runaway vehicle, or had decided against travelling on a doomed ship.  He must do all he could to remain in this man’s good graces.  He was glad he had decided against the more severe forms of punishment that the House Master had recommended in order to train this slave.  He shuddered to think what would have happened, had the Captain come across his beloved after one of those sessions.  He said a silent prayer of thanks to his household gods; obviously they were looking after him.

The first course of what turned out to be a long, and to Archer, interminable meal, arrived.  It was a roast meat of some sort.  He took a piece, speared it onto his fork, and deftly popped it into Trip’s mouth, much to the astonishment of his hosts.  A slave eating before his master did?  But since it was Archer himself who was feeding his favorite, they said nothing.  Archer looked up, saw their wondering gaze upon him.  “My pet is far too thin,” he said shortly, by way of explanation.  And he continued to feed Trip throughout the course of the banquet. 

The conversation was careful, civilized and neutral.  Archer forced himself to be genial, even though he had no use for either one of these people.  He could not believe that a civilization so technologically advanced could still subscribe to the notion that buying and selling sentients as if they were furniture was acceptable behavior.  The conversation slowed, and Archer steeled himself.  He knew that his hosts were waiting for him to ask this question, and distasteful as he found it, he knew that he must.  Otherwise, they might begin to wonder about him, and he wanted them to have no nagging questions about who or what he was.

“So,” he said casually, leaning back, “how did you come to buy him?”

“I was searching for a gift to amuse my beloved wife,” Lord Maya replied.  “And I saw him on the block.  That golden hair!  And those blue eyes!  So rare on our world.  I knew that he would please her, so I immediately purchased him and brought him here.”

Archer longed to stand up and give the son of a bitch a good hard punch.  Break his nose, loosen a few teeth.  Instead, he swallowed his bile, and smiled, easily.  “Ah, yes.  He is quite lovely, isn’t he?  I can’t begin to tell you the number of offers I’ve had for him.”

“Captain – if I may,” Lady Vala asked, “how did you come to own him?”

“Spoils of battle,” Archer replied carelessly.  He stroked Trip’s hair.  “The best I’ve ever received.”  He looked across at his hostess.  “I trust he was satisfactory, Lady Vala?”

“Oh, indeed he was,” she enthused.  “I will be sorry to lose his services.”

“Understandable,” Archer agreed.

“However,” she began, hesitantly.

“Yes, Lady?” he encouraged.

“Captain, I hope this will not anger you, but – I am surprised.  He required a certain amount of training, and –“

“- and you were wondering why,” Archer finished for her.  Think fast, Jon.  “It’s very simple,” he said.  “I was undertaking his training myself.  Unfortunately, I did not have as much time as I would have liked to devote to this.  A man in my position has a lot of demands on his time.  I had started to remedy this during our holiday, but then he was stolen from me.” He paused.  “So you say you have trained him, have you?”  At her nod, he sighed.  “Pity.  I was looking forward to refining him myself.”

“I am sorry, Captain.”

Archer shrugged.  “What’s done is done.  And you did not know.  I do not hold you responsible.”  Although I would like to wring your neck.  “So, pet,” he said to Trip, “you’ve learned a few new tricks, have you?  I guess you’ll have something to show me, won’t you?”  Trip nodded in response.  Archer ran a slow, teasing hand down his back.  “Yet another pleasure I have to look forward to.”  Trip simply looked down at the floor. 

The meal finally ended with a sweet cake and some after-dinner drinks.  Archer fed Trip a large slice of cake, and insisted that he be given the Tasumi equivalent of a glass of milk.  “No wine for you, pet,” he said jovially.  “At least, not yet.”  Trip ate silently, finished his “milk”, then lay his head back against Archer’s leg. 

“That was a fine dinner,” the Captain told his hosts, managing to make it sound as if he had had many better.  He continued to stroke Trip’s hair, and added, “I know my personal chef would like the recipe for that cake.  My own enjoyed it too, didn’t you, pet?” 

“I shall ensure that Al-Saahn makes the recipe available to you before you leave,” Lady Vala said.

“Thank you, my Lady,” Archer replied.  “You are a very gracious hostess.”  For a slave-owning bitch, that is, he added silently.

“And now, Captain, we have delights of another sort for you to enjoy,” Lord Maya said.

Archer steeled himself.  He had hoped they would want to skip this, but as T’Pol had pointed out, his hope was illogical and most likely doomed to failure.  He briefly considered sending Trip to bed, but realized to do so would raise any number of red flags.  It looked like he would simply have to go through with it.  And hope to pick up the pieces afterwards. 

He smiled at Maya.  “Yes,” he said.  “I understand that you have a reputation for finding only the best.  I’m looking forward to the rest of the evening.”  Not.

He rose, held out a hand to Trip.  “Come, my pet.”

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