Reed's Armory -- A Malcolm Reed Fanfiction Archive ..

Title: Ithaca

Author: Taryn Eve

Author's e-mail: [email protected]

Fandom: Enterprise

Pairing: Archer/Reed

Rating: PG-13

Category: Slash

Series: Mythology

Summary: Archer returns to Reed after a long odyssey.

Spoilers: Minefield

Comments: Ithaca was the home of Odysseus, husband of Penelope. He took the long way home after the Trojan War ended. I had the idea for this a long time ago, but Leah's complaining finally got me to write it. Thanks, Maching Monkey.

Archived to the Web site on 04/20/2003.

Flying in the cold air of the highest clouds, Jon Archer could remember a time when he had a responsibility to his dreams. First his father's vision of wrestling the secrets of faster warp flight away from the silences of nature and the laboratory, and then his own hungry quest to gather the stars into his arms and name them.

As he moved his craft down into the sunlight, he smiled. The last twenty years had taught Jon a lot about the dangers of space travel. He'd been the first Starfleet captain to meet the Klingons in battle, along with a host of other enemies. Some of them were still hostile. Others had become fast friends or reluctant allies in a growing federation that now spanned over a dozen star systems.

Grateful worlds had accorded him their best honors, in praise of his skills as a diplomat, a peace broker, and as a sometimes-reluctant warrior. A number of Archer Cities had arisen on human colonies throughout the Alpha Quadrant. About a week ago, he'd gotten a message from Mayor Travis Mayweather that the newest town on the frontier had named its first child after him.

The mountains gave way to a spattering of buildings peeking out of the grass far below him. He didn't know the natives' name for this planet. Trip had referred to it as Ithaca in his last letter.

He's there and he's waiting for you. You're the best friend I've ever had, so I'm telling you something I should have said years ago. Go find him or I'll crawl out of this damn bed despite my broken leg and kick your ass.

Jon felt too old for the duranium butterflies banging in his stomach. His sweating palms and his hard-beating heart unsettled him. He was afraid. Terrified, really. How can you go home to a place you've never been? The grass yielded to a strip of bone white beach, kissed by an endless ocean. Small bobbing boats dotted the water close to shore, and he could see sails in the distance.

According to the hasty research he'd done last night, the planet had a pre-industrial society. However, it had a healthy amount of dilithium, and the mining trade had been in force for decades. Why Malcolm had settled here was a mystery.

Or maybe not. Jon suspected that the other man had randomly hit a target on a map and had chosen to bury himself here. They hadn't parted on good terms. Jon had always had a wandering star. Malcolm had wanted a steadfast commitment from him after the initial months of their unexpected relationship, and a place to call home. The younger man's urgency for permanence became frantic once Malcolm's sister and her husband died. With his parents gone, Malcolm had become his nephew's sole guardian.

Jon couldn't return to Earth with so much left undone. He'd chosen Enterprise over Malcolm. When he had left the ship, Malcolm had protested that he understood Jon's motives in staying behind completely, but his only answer to Jon's letters and gifts to England had been silence.

After years of being alone, Jon had moved on, to other people and other beds, though the memory of Malcolm's body warm in his arms kept him company on most nights. Right now, looking over the small landing pad, he couldn't recall what the slim man's kisses tasted like, or the way he liked his coffee, or any of the small, mundane things that had made up their brief partnership.

An eager bark broke his up his bout of jitters. Galahad, his English setter, bumped his nose against the hatch, then ran up and placed a paw on Jon's leg. "You're more ready for this than I am," Jon said as he rubbed the dog's ears. Galahad barked.

"All right, all right." He spoiled this dog more than any other he'd ever had, with the possible exception of Porthos, his much-loved beagle.

Jon pulled himself up out of the chair with shaking hands. Damn, he thought. Facing down a fleet of warbirds had been easier than going to meet this one man who might still love him.

His hand paused on the hatch. What would he do if this didn't work out? The ancient sailors' fear that their loved ones wouldn't be there to welcome them home hit Jon with full force. Dazed, he sank to his knees.

It had been years. Maybe Malcolm had moved on-how did Trip know he was really here? There were dozens of human biosigns mixed in with those of the natives. Hell, Malcolm might be married. In the early days of their mission, the Englishman had disclosed that his greatest fear was death by drowning. Over the last few days, Jon had uncovered the truth amid the memories of their bed--Malcolm hadn't wanted to live alone. Yet Jon had let him leave.

Galahad licked at his face and whined at him. Jon knew the young dog didn't understand why his dad didn't give him his freedom. Maybe he was too old for the dog, too old to try to rediscover love in a new country.

He made up his mind to leave. The hell with it. Maybe that university job Hoshi had offered him was the sensible alternative to his final quest.

The hatch opened before he could move. A blaze of sunlight hit him, and he blinked at the apparition in the doorway. Jon's heart stopped. There was no mistaking the tilt to that head, or those thin arms, with one hand on his holster. Galahad barked, frantically pawing to get out of Jon's arms as the figure climbed in.

Malcolm grabbed a handhold and looked down at him. Jon's mouth turned dry. Salt and pepper streaks lined his former lover's hair, and he had more lines around his eyes and mouth than Jon remembered. His face was still as a mask, and he folded his arms while Jon hugged the squirming dog. Moments stretched into eternity as they stared at each other.

Galahad barked and leaped out of Jon's arms, bounding out of the shuttle, no doubt in search of the sea air he smelled.

Jon shook his head and laughed. "He's always getting away from me."

"That only happened to me once," Malcolm said, giving Jon a pointed look.

A flush crept along Jon's face. "Hello, Malcolm."

Fire flashed in the other man's eyes. "Hello, Jonathan Archer," Malcolm said, the weight of twenty years of irony full in his voice. "On your way somewhere, then? We don't have many federation shuttles passing through, really, but you're welcome to stretch your legs."

Jon winced. "This was a stupid idea. I'm sorry I bothered you."

He stood up, and went to the hatch, to call Galahad back in. It was a glorious day-the clouds were far away now, and the sun had enough heat to warm his tired bones. Far down the beach, he could see Galahad running after something along the waves. He raised his hands to shout the dog's name, to make him come back so they could start another long journey to some uncharted region that didn't need them.

Malcolm's breathing behind him made him pause. He closed his eyes, remembering the one hundred and eighty nights they had spent together, years ago. This man at his back had been more than a simple bed partner. He'd been Jon's loved one, the one he had needed all along, though it had been all too easy to let him leave.

"Don't go."

Jon clutched the hatch's edge without turning around. "Why?"

"I don't know," the husky voice said in his ear. "Didn't T'Pol once say that for humans love is the emotion that is most irrational and most necessary?" Steady arms turned Jon around, and Malcolm stroked his jawline. "I've always loved you, goddamn it. I could have looked for you after Brian grew up, but I was too afraid to even try. And now you're leaving again..." Malcolm's hand fell away. "Leave if you must, but try to remember me now and again, and how I loved you once when I was young."

Jon bowed his head to hide his tears. His dreams might have come true over the years, but now he was ready to live the rest of his life. He looked up and took Malcolm's hand.

"Let's go home."

A startled light raced through Malcolm's eyes and then he offered Jon a hand to help him out of the shuttle. They walked along the unspoiled beach, careful to make small talk as if they had never missed a thing or each other. They spoke of old friends and old times, and Jon caught a half-smile from Malcolm more than once. In return, Malcolm offered a few stories about his work as a peacekeeper on this idyllic planet. Galahad pranced ahead of them, ever the eager explorer, trading new worlds for a home world with each step.

As the first stars of the evening sailed overhead, Jon pulled Malcolm into his arms and finally kissed him.

"Do you believe in happy endings?" Malcolm asked, his eyes serious.

"Of course." Jon smiled at the steadfast man who had never lost his love for him. All the dreams were over, but he was ready for the sunset of his life with Malcolm at his side.

~the end~