Title: Charged and Ready

Author: Sue Christian

Summary: Archer checks up on his armoury officer after an alien attack

Pairing: Archer/Reed

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: All characters and things Enterprise belong to Paramount, I just like to take them out and play with them occasionally. I make no money from this and have nothing that'd make it worth anyone's while suing me.

Author's Note: A sappy little birthday present for Kez, who pleaded for A/R fic. Written quickly and without the benefit of betas, so all the mistakes are my own.

Feedback: Yes please. Send to [email protected].

'Archer to Reed.'

'Reed here, sir.'

'How are those phase cannons coming, Malcolm?'

'A minute, sir.' The connection was left open and Archer could here the lieutenant talking to one of his team before he was addressed again. 'Charged and ready, sir.'

'Then fire!'

Sitting in his command chair, trying not to look as tense as he felt, Captain Archer watched the twin beams of light flash out towards the other ship. The aliens had appeared out of nowhere and fired on Enterprise without warning. Their first shot had disabled most of the Starfleet ship's tactical systems. Fortunately the aliens didn't press home their advantage and it seemed as if their hit was just a happy accident. Happy from the aliens' point of view, that was; there was nothing happy about it as far as Archer was concerned. Not only was his ship left defenceless, but his lover, Enterprise's tactical officer, Malcolm Reed, had been injured.

The tactical systems in the bulkhead behind Reed's bridge station had exploded when the alien vessel's shot hit, sending a shrapnel shower of metallic fragments and electrical sparks in his direction. He wasn't seriously hurt, but his back was covered in an array of cuts and burns. Archer had ordered Reed to sickbay but he hadn't been surprised to learn that Reed had gone straight to the armoury instead.

'Direct hit to their engines, sir.' Reed's voice over the comm confirmed what Archer could see for himself on the view screen.

'What's the damage?' Archer's question was to Sub-commander T'Pol, his vulcan first officer.

'Their warp engines are off-line, but they do still have impulse power.'

'Fine, leave them their impulse engines. As long as they can't follow us to warp, that's all I'm interested in.' He stood and stepped forward to put a hand on the shoulder of the man at the helm. 'Get us out of here, Travis. Resume course. Let's go to warp four for a while and put some distance between us and our mystery attackers.'

'Yes, sir,' Mayweather replied, fingers dancing over the controls, sending the starship into hyperspace.

'I'm going to check on the damage in the armoury,' Archer said to T'Pol. 'You have the bridge.'

Lieutenant Reed was sitting at the main weapons' console scanning the readouts and directing the mixed armoury and engineering crews who were effecting repairs. Most of the damage was to the power supply systems, hence the number of open panels and the smell of burnt insulation hanging in the air.

Crossing to where his lover sat, Archer could see again his burnt and bloodstained uniform and noticed that he was careful not to rest against the back of his seat.

'Malcolm,' he said, letting the man know he was there.

'Sir.' Reed half turned towards him, a smile lighting up his face momentarily. 'The forward cannons are back on-line, as you know. Aft shouldn't take more than half an hour. The torpedo launchers are going to take longer though, four or five hours probably.'

'I have every confidence in your team, Malcolm. I hope you have too.'

'Yes, of course, sir.' Reed gave him a puzzled look.

'Then I'm sure they can manage unsupervised long enough for you to visit sickbay. Which is where I ordered you to go when you left the bridge,' Archer pointed out with deceptive mildness.

'Captain, I just need...'

Reed hissed with pain as Archer laid a hand with controlled, but deliberate, pressure against his back.

'What you need, Malcolm, is to go to sickbay. I hope I don't have to order you again.'

'No, sir, you don't. I'm sorry, Jon,' he added quietly, 'but I had to get the cannons back on-line.'

'I understand that, Malcolm, but I think we can spare you now. I'm on my way to engineering,' Archer continued, knowing his lover wouldn't appreciate being escorted to sickbay, would see it as a lack of trust. 'Anything you need me to tell Trip?'

They walked to the turbolift together while Malcolm, apparently with no sense of irony, gave his captain orders to be transmitted to Enterprise's chief engineer.

He spoke with Commander Tucker in engineering, accompanying him to the armoury for a brief visit, before the two of them relocated to the bridge. The following hours were spent overseeing repairs, reviewing reports on the incident and preparing a transmission to Starfleet. At some point Tucker and T'Pol ganged up and persuaded him he should eat.

It was Tucker's question over dinner, enquiring about Malcolm, that made the captain realise he hadn't checked with Phlox over his lover's condition.

He found sickbay quiet and empty and was just about to leave, when Dr. Phlox appeared from his office.

'Captain, what can I do for you?' the doctor asked.

'I came to check on Lieutenant Reed, but I see you've released him.'

'Hmm. Mr. Reed was...eager...to return to his duties and since his injuries, while undoubtedly painful, are not life-threatening, I saw no reason to detain him.'

Archer didn't bother to hide his smile as he spoke. 'And Malcolm can be such a...demanding patient.'

'Precisely, captain,' Phlox said, with one of his unnerving smiles. 'Will you be, er, seeing Mr. Reed later?' Archer's and Reed's relationship whilst not a secret, was not something to which the Denobulan often referred.

'I certainly hope so.'

'Then you might like to take this.' The doctor handed him a jar. 'It's a salve for his back. I did give him a pain-killer earlier, but it's probably worn off by now. I expect he'll be glad of the relief this will give him, though no doubt he'll want to sleep on his stomach tonight.'

'Thank you, doctor,' Archer said, surprised to find himself a little embarrassed. 'I'll be sure to remember that.'

Slipping the jar of salve into a pocket, Archer made his way to the armoury. Reed's shift should have finished an hour ago, but he knew there was no way his tactical officer would go off duty while the weapons were not up to scratch.

This time when the doors slid open, there was only one person in the armoury

Reed was again sitting at the main console, poring over the readouts scrolling by on the three screens. He had changed into a clean uniform, but was still sitting gingerly, not touching the backrest of his seat, and he looked tired. As Archer watched Reed rubbed the back of one hand over his eyes, then slid it round to massage the back of his neck. He looked round as Archer started to walk over to him, the captain's footfalls loud in the quiet room.

'Jon,' Reed welcomed him, allowing himself to use Archer's given name since they were alone.

'Malcolm, shouldn't you be resting?' Archer smiled to show his touchy lover his words weren't a criticism. 'You're off duty. Can't beta shift take over?'

'Oh, we're finished. Everything's back on-line. I just wanted to run a few more simulations.'

Archer was standing behind Reed's chair and the younger man leaned back, carefully, mindful of his injured back, resting his shoulders against his captain's broad chest. Archer wrapped his arms loosely around Reed and rested his chin on the shorter man's head. They stayed like that for some minutes, neither of them speaking, until the captain noticed that his lover's breathing was slowing and his body relaxing; he was falling asleep.

'Archer to Reed,' he said softly.

'Reed here, sir,' was the equally quiet response, though Archer could feel, rather than hear, the accompanying chuckle.

'So tell me, lieutenant,' Archer murmured, sliding one hand down to rest on Reed's crotch, 'how is *your* phase cannon coming?'

He heard Reed's sudden intake of breath as the dark head fell back against his shoulder and the cock under his hand began to stiffen.

'Charged and ready, sir,' was his lover's heartfelt response. 'Charged and ready.'

--end--

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