"Another pancake, honey?" Grandma asked.

Trip held out his plate.  "They smell good."

"Here you go, baby.  Blackberry syrup?"

Before he could answer, a low rumble shook the kitchen.  Trip looked around in alarm.  "What was that?"

Grandma was unconcerned.  "Just Grandpa bowling on the roof again."

And with that, Trip awoke.

He looked around, and for a brief moment wondered if it was still night, as the outside sky was dark, but quickly realized the darkness was due to overhanging storm clouds.  He could hear the faint, steady thrum of rain on the roof, and as he looked over, saw lightning forking down, quickly followed by a crash of thunder.  He smiled, slightly.  When he was a little kid, his Grandmother had told him thunder was just the angels bowling. 

Another flash, another crash.  He sighed.  It looked like he wouldn't be going swimming today after all.  Well, he'd just have to find something else to do.  He stretched.  It was evident Jon was already awake; a fire was crackling merrily in the grate.

"Hey."

It was if his thoughts had summoned his lover; Jon came out of the bathroom, toweling his hair.  "Hey," Trip responded.  "Morning."  He stretched again, and then padded off to the bathroom.

When he emerged, showered, shaved and feeling somewhat more awake, he started towards the bedroom door.  Jon's voice halted him:  "Looking for breakfast?"

"I was considering it."

Jon grinned.  "Then look no further."  He picked up a remote, hit a button.  A small section of the wall slid up, revealing a hot table, which then rolled forward.

Trip stared.  "I thought I smelled pancakes."

"And sausages.  And home fries.  And juice.  And coffee, of course."

"You've been busy.  I'm impressed."

Jon shrugged.  "I like cooking."  He patted the mattress beside him invitingly.

Trip grinned as he headed back to bed.  "Well," he drawled as he climbed under the covers, "I like eating."

Jon gave him a light kiss.  "So we're a good match."

*  *  *

Trip lay back on the pillows with a contented sigh.  "I'm stuffed."

Jon simply smiled, took the bed trays, placed them back on the hot table, and tapped the remote again.  Once again the wall opened, and Trip watched as the table disappeared into the cavity.  The wall seamlessly closed again, and a very faint hum of machinery could be heard.  Trip guessed there was a dumbwaiter in the wall, which would take the automated table back to the kitchen.  "I suppose the dishwashing is also automated?"

Jon nodded.  "And the kitchen clean-up."

There was a companionable silence for a minute.  Then, Jon asked, "What are you going to do today?"

Trip shrugged.  "Not sure.  I had been planning to go swimming.  But not in this weather."

"I wouldn't recommend swimming during a lightning storm, no."

"Thanks for the recommendation," Trip replied dryly.  "What about you?"

Jon produced a book padd.  "I," he said, "am going to stay in bed and read."

"Really?"

"Really.  In this weather?  It's the perfect day for it.  I've got a comfortable bed, a fire going, and a good book.  I'm set."

"Hmm.  What are you reading?"

Jon passed the padd over.  Trip studied the title; it the latest offering from a critically-acclaimed, best-selling author back on earth.  "Where did you get this?  I've been dying to read it!"

"Rank hath its privileges, my dear Commander."

"No kidding, my dear Captain."  He handed the padd back.  "Can I borrow it when you're done?"

"If you want to wait that long."  Jon touched a button.  "Or we can enjoy it together."  Another touch of another button, and the padd began to speak.  "Audio book mode," Jon said.  "If you want to listen."

"Sounds good," Trip grinned.  "In more ways than one."

Jon put the now-talking book on the bedside table, and lay back.  Trip snuggled next to him, laying his head on Jon's shoulder.  Jon pulled him into a warm, protective embrace, and Trip sighed happily, and closed his eyes in contentment.

*  *  *

For Trip, the morning passed in a haze of gentle pleasure.  While listening to the rounded, modulated tones of the actor reading the book, he lay in Jon's arms, feeling safe and protected, cocooned in Jon's warm embrace.  At this particular point in time, he was perfectly happy.  Part of that happiness stemmed from the fact that for the first time in what seemed like forever, he felt settled and secure.  Lying here with Jon, he didn't have to jump at shadows, and the feel of Jon's arms around him blotted out the memory of other, less welcome touches.  Knowing, too, that Jon would do anything for him was also a large factor in this particular equation.  Eyes closed, he listened to the story unfold, and enjoyed Jon's touches as he gently caressed his back, and occasionally gave him a light kiss as a bonus.

As the morning wore on, Trip found himself starting to respond a little more enthusiastically to Jon's caresses.  Jon began stroking his waist, his hips and sides, and Trip shifted.  He could feel himself becoming aroused.  He sighed, and Jon kissed him in response.

Still keeping his touch light and gentle, Jon took him in hand, began slowly stroking him.  Trip sighed again, with pleasure.  The next hour passed in a haze of sensual delight.  Jon took his time.  By now, Trip had indeed learned patience, and to enjoy the journey as much as the destination.  He was enjoying the sensations Jon's skilled touch brought, and was in no hurry to have them stop.

But all good things must end, and this was no exception.  Trip moaned as the gentle touches finally culminated in a burst of pleasure.

Jon smiled and kissed him.  "Feel good?"

"I do," Trip said drowsily.  Jon cleaned him off.  "But what about you?"

Jon smiled again.  "I'm fine.  I just wanted to make you feel good."

"You succeeded."

"I should get up and make us some lunch."  And he sat up. 

Trip pulled him back down.  "No."

"No?"

"Not right now.  Just stay here, okay?"

"Whatever you want, Trip.  You know that."

"I know."

"You're sure you're not hungry right now?"

Trip tightened his embrace.  "Not for food."

Jon grinned.  "You are greedy, aren't you?"

*  *  *

"Hey," Trip said as he ambled into the library.

Jon looked up at him.  "Hey yourself.  Sleep well?"

Trip nodded.  "Sure did."  He looked out the window.  "It's a beautiful morning."

Jon nodded.  "Storm blew itself out."  He grinned.  "Although it was hard to tell the thunder from your snores."

Trip was affronted.  "I do not snore.  You, on the other hand ..."

"Brat."

"Bastard."

"Let me finish this," Jon said, "and I'll make you breakfast."

"Make us breakfast.  Okay."  He peered over Jon's shoulder.  "What's up?"

"Just placing a grocery order."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah.  Anything you want?"

"No.  You're the cook."  He read the sidebar running down the screen.  "Wow.  A whole shopping mall here."

Jon nodded.  "Handy, isn't it?"

"Yeah."  Trip pointed.  "This looks interesting."

"Does, doesn't it?"  Jon looked up at him.  "But, Trip – the shop.  It's in the Old City."

Trip was silent for a moment.  Then, "So?"

"Trip?"

"Let's go.  Check it out."

Jon stopped what he was doing.  He stood, put his hands on Trip's shoulders.  "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am."

Jon gave him a long, measuring look.  It took Trip a second or two to identify the expression on his face:  one of admiration.  Despite himself, Trip could feel himself blush under Jon's intent gaze.  "You know," Jon finally said, "if they handed out medals for sheer guts, you'd have a trunkful."

*  *  *

"So this was the café?"

Trip nodded.

"Are you sure about this?  There are other places to eat, you know."

"Yeah, I know.  But I'm sick and tired of running, Jon."

"I think that once again, you're being too hard on yourself.  There's running, and then there's sparing yourself unnecessary grief."

Trip wore a stubborn look.  "Maybe.  But this is where I want to eat."

*  *  *

"Well," said Jon grudgingly, "at least the food is good."

"Yeah," Trip agreed absently.  He was staring at a corner of the café.

"Was that where you were sitting?" Jon asked him gently.

Trip nodded.  "That's where I was when she," referring to Zirella, "showed up."

"Bitch." 

Trip looked up at that, startled, but all he saw was sympathy in Jon's eyes.  Jon took his hand.  "You know," he said, "I just realized that I was wrong about something."

"Jonathon Archer?  Wrong?  Put a mark on the wall."

Jon grinned.  "Brat."

"Bastard."  He arched an inquiring brow at his lover.  "What were you wrong about?"

"Remember when I told you that I couldn't say that what you went through was part of some master plan?  Or that something good would come from it?"  At Trip's nod, he continued.  "Well, I realized that something good did come from it."  He gave Trip's hand a light squeeze.  "It brought us together."

Trip considered this.  "You mean, you don't think it would have happened otherwise?"

"No.  But I do think it would have taken us one hell of a lot longer.  When you went missing, it forced me to realize just how much you meant to me.  I probably would have realized it eventually on my own, but," and he shrugged, "it might have taken me another 10 years."

"We were sort of pussyfooting around the whole subject for some time, weren't we?"  Trip agreed.

"Don't get me wrong," Jon told him.  "I would have given anything to spare you what you went through.  But like I said, at least it did make me realize how I felt."  He smiled.  "Made me realize that I loved you."

Trip looked at him.  "That's the first time you've ever used the 'L' word."

"Just because I haven't said it doesn't mean I don't, you know."  He squeezed Trip's hand again.  "And in every way you can think of."

Trip smiled.  "It's mutual, you know.  I mean," and he hesitated, fumbling for words.  It was difficult for him to speak like this.  Like Jon, he really wasn't into mushy sentiment.  He looked into the hazel eyes opposite him, and saw only understanding and acceptance there.  Oh, well – what the hell.  "I mean," he repeated, "I must love you.  Otherwise, I wouldn't put up with all your bull."

"I know," Jon grinned.  "And I'm grateful."

They shared a smile.

"Well," said Jon briskly, "How about dessert?"

"Like you have to ask?"

*  *  *

Trip stood stock-still.  Jon walked a few paces ahead of him, then realizing Trip was no longer by his side, turned and saw him standing there.  "Trip?"

"This is it," Trip replied.

Jon came back to him.  "Trip?" He asked again.

"This is as far as I got."

He saw that Jon understood.  "Before you passed out."

Trip nodded.  "I remember seeing that shop window," and he pointed, "and then the next thing, I was on their ship."

Jon nodded, then reached out and took his hand.  "You ready to go on?"

Trip smiled.  "Yeah.  I think I've stood here long enough."  He looked at his lover.  "I'm looking forward to what's ahead."

"So am I, Trip.  So am I."

Jon put a companionable arm around his shoulders, and they walked up the street.  Trip did not look back.  Not even once.

The End

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