Title:  The Importance of Being Understood

Author: Pretzelduck

Author's e-mail: [email protected]

 

Length: about 1500 words

Fandom: Star Trek: Enterprise

Pairing: Archer/Reed

Type: Slash M/M

Rating: PG

Status: Complete

Summary: The fine art of speech-making by Captain Jonathan Archer.

Feedback: Yes

Series/sequel: Nope.  It stands all by its lonesome.

Archive: Yes to EntSTSlash Archive and Tim Ruben.

Spoilers: minor ones for "Shockwave, Part II," "The Communicator," and "Marauders"

Disclaimer: Guess what?  I don't own the Star Trek franchise.  If I did, I wouldn't be knee deep in college loans.

 

*****

 

The bridge was dead silent.  There wasn't the normal background noise of breaths being taken and it seemed as if even the computers were quiet out of reverence.

 

Or out of shock.

 

He'd done it again.  Hoshi was blinking rapidly.  Travis was doing his best to keep a grimace off his face.  T'Pol was performing her renowned impression of a Vulcan displeased at a human's actions.  And if Trip had been on the bridge, he probably would have rolled his eyes.

 

Only Malcolm, the man's lover, seemed to have any truly noticeable reaction.  He was shaking his head slightly, almost imperceptibly, and there was an unmistakable look of laughter in his eyes.  After all, Jon had done it again.

 

King Arthur.  The captain of Earth's first deep space exploration vessel had just compared interstellar relations to King Arthur's round table.  It was yet another in a long line of confusing Earth-centric allusions said by Jonathan Archer to some poor unsuspecting alien ship captain.  According to Travis, who apparently been keeping track ever since the infamous gazelle speech a year and a half ago, it was the twenty-seventh such reference.

 

Malcolm's head shaking continued.  Unlike the rest of the crew, he knew the other side of the story.  How this had all began two months ago…

 

*****

 

"Would you please stop pacing, Jon?  I thought I was bad."

 

"I'm just nervous.  We don't exactly have the best record with first contacts."

 

Malcolm stood up from the desk and wrapped his arms around his stressed-out lover.  It still amazed him just how much Jon paced, despite the fact that half the time he had to slouch to do it. 

 

Jon turned around in the embrace so they were face to face.  With a faint sigh, he placed his forehead against Malcolm's.  Although he still technically lived in his own quarters, most nights found Malcolm working and sleeping in Jon's cabin.

 

Gently, Malcolm guided Jon over to the couch and pushed him down so he was sitting on it.  As Jon looked out at the stars, Malcolm straddled his lover and caressed his cheek lightly with his thumb as he contemplated Jon's unusually somber mood.  He kissed Jon's cheek softly, in order to encourage his lover to come out of his stupor.

 

"What's really the matter, Jon?"

 

"It's the speech."

 

The Uradians required a lengthy speech outlining their attentions from anyone wishing to speak with their leaders.  To make matter worse, the speech was full of formal phrases that were dictated by the Uradians that had to be used.  As for the rest, it was to be improvised.  On the spot. 

 

"You have the Uradian phrases memorized.  In fact, you recited them in your sleep last night."

 

"I did?"  The dumbfounded look on Jon's face was too much for Malcolm and he lowered his head to plant a tender kiss on his lips.

 

"Twice."

 

"Oh."  Jon gazed up at Malcolm's face.  Reflected on it, he found the usually supportive and openly compassionate look he had come to appreciate and rely on.  The profound tenderness that Malcolm showed him was something that still astounded him from time to time.  It was such a contrast to the man he knew outside of their private relationship. 

 

"I'm worried about the rest of the speech…"  Malcolm went back to caressing Jon's cheek.  He knew that there was more Jon needed to say.  He would finish when he was ready.  As amazed as Jon was at Malcolm's tenderness, Malcolm was equally surprised at the uncertainity Jon would sometimes show him.  Like now.

 

"I've given some bad speeches." 

 

"And you've given some good ones."  Jon looked at Malcolm, the doubt easily readable on his face.  With a gentle shaking of his head, Malcolm once again tried to reassure him with a kiss.  A moment after their lips separated, though, the skepticism was back on Jon's face.

 

"What about the one to General Gosis?" Jon couldn't quite place the name.  He quickly remembered as Malcolm continued, in an almost passable American accent, "He's my tactical officer.  He can tell you everything you want to know about the Alliance's troop deployments, their weapons…You don't need to kill him."

 

"You remember that word-for-word?"

 

"Of course.  It was a good speech."

 

Jon didn't even bother to point out to Malcolm that he was obviously biased.  It touched him that Malcolm had committed to memory those words.  He'd almost lost Malcolm that time.  Before he'd even had him.  Despite the attempt to make him feel better about the speech to the Uradians tomorrow, Jon still doubted he would be able to get through it without saying something stupid.

 

"Remember the deuterium mining colony we visited before that?"  Malcolm nodded, unsure of where Jon was going with this.  "I actually quoted to the leader Tessic that proverb about teaching a man to fish.  He probably had no idea what a fish was."

 

Suppressing a snort of laughter, Malcolm gave Jon a smile.  "But did he understand what you were trying to say?"

 

"I suppose."

 

"Then don't worry about it."

 

"Malcolm…"  The statement was swiftly stopped by another kiss from Malcolm.

 

"Do you trust me, love?"

 

"You know I do."

 

"Then trust me when I say everything will be fine tomorrow."  Malcolm climbed off his lover and stood up, holding a hand out to him.  "Just be you." 

 

Jon took the offered hand and pulled Malcolm into his arms.  He had long since learned that more often than not, Malcolm was right.

 

*****       

 

The Uradian government had been so impressed by Jonathan Archer that they had tried to convince him to stay on their world just so he could continue to tell them stories.  Needless to say, Jon's speeches hadn't changed at all since then.  As the latest aliens the Enterprise had encountered had found out.  King Arthur, indeed.

 

But there was a reason Jonathan Archer was captain of the Enterprise.  More than one, actually.  However, one of these was his ability to talk his way out of awkward situations.  Like comparing a purple skinned alien ship captain with three eyes, things that looked like gills, and hands that resembled claws to Sir Lancelot.  Twenty minutes later, the captain and his ship had left and Enterprise was once more on her way.

 

The minute the ship was back at warp, Hoshi and Travis couldn't stop themselves any longer.  Muffled giggles escaped the lips of the youngest members of the senior staff.  Leaning back slightly in the captain's chair, Jon started sniggering.

 

"I know, I know.  The round table."

 

This sent the rest of the bridge crew into uncontrollable snorting and laughing.  All but two, anyway.  Jon knew without even glancing over that Subcommander T'Pol wasn't smiling.  Or laughing.  Amusement was an illogical emotion.

 

However, neither was his quite-human armory officer.  Jon turned his head to look over at the man, who was working impassively at his station, as if nothing was going on.  He knew that Malcolm wanted to laugh.  They would undoubtedly joke about it later, in private but he wouldn't now.  Not on duty.  The captain could see the hint of amusement in Malcolm's down turned grayish-blue eyes.  But he was good at seeing it.

 

After a few long moments, Malcolm glanced up from his console.  He could always feel it when Jon was looking at him.  It had almost driven him insane with wanting before they had gotten together.  Now, after all these months, much to his amazement and pleasure, it still did.  So he couldn't not look up at the man that meant so much to him.  Jon's sparkling green eyes were daring him.  Encouraging him to laugh or smile.  To show some emotion on duty.  Any at all.

 

The soft chuckle that reverberated from the tactical station shocked the whole bridge crew into stunned silence.  Even T'Pol graced the occasion with a raised eyebrow.  And the amused smile on the captain's face transformed into a tender one for only Malcolm's eyes.  Jon held his lover's eyes for a moment.  Then, the tender smile disappeared and both returned their attentions to work.

 

Only Subcommander T'Pol noticed the exchange between the two men.  The atypical little smile on the lieutenant's face that often appeared after similar occurrences had already been noted in a report for the Vulcan High Command on the on-duty interactions between crewmembers involved in an intimate relationship.  So had the occurrences themselves.  She had noted that while such instances were illogical, they were rare and not unproductive.  Captain Archer had been more cautious in his off-ship dealings since becoming involved with Lieutenant Reed.  Also, reports from Dr. Phlox over his concern for the armory officer's dietary intake had decreased.  This had been noted in her report, as well.  Efficiently, she continued her scans of the nearest star system as she called up the computer's data on the King Arthur and his round table mentioned by Captain Archer.  Apparently, there was something about the human and his furniture that her crewmates found amusing.