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

Title: Prometheus

Author: Taryn Eve

Author's e-mail: [email protected]

Fandom: Enterprise

Pairing: Archer/Reed

Rating: R

Category: Slash

Warning: Deathfic

Series: Mythology

Sequel to: Pandora's Hawk

Summary: Reed gives his lover the gift of fire.

Comments: Prometheus is from Greek mythology. He was a Titan who gave humans fire. He was caught & punished by the gods. Some say he is still being punished.

Beta reader(s): Thanks to downinnewyork for the least amount of yellow highlighter ever, and to Lindsay for the H. Grant quote. Snerk! Why, yes, that's a copy of Eliot's Complete Poems you glimpsed on Reed's desk the other night.

Archived to Reed's Armory on 04/20/2003.

Leaning over the green porcelain bowl, he snatches up a peach and takes it to the bed. A dark head turns and studies him with sleepy blue eyes. Sunlight embraces his lover's body, here in this borrowed seaside house. They've stolen a few hours of summer for themselves, here on Earth. Tomorrow they would return to Enterprise, and the cold dark of space.

Malcolm's thin hand reaches out and traces his wrist thoughtfully. "A man could starve to death, you know."

Jon laughs, and brings the peach up to his own lips, teasing the other man. With an amused smile, Malcolm pulls on him, and brings him closer, inviting his lover to straddle his hips.

Biting into the fat, round peach, Jon lets the juices drip down to the belly underneath his thighs. Malcolm shivers as the cool liquid hits him.

Discarding the fruit, Jon leans down and lazily chases the spilled juice with his tongue. Malcolm's fingers tangle in his hair and tug him closer.

His kisses taste of brandy, and the times they have done this over the thousand days they've had together.

"I love you," Jon says.

Opening his eyes, Malcolm taps his finger against Jon's lips. He is Prometheus, promising fire, if the simple human man but dares to take it.

Then Malcolm laughs and holds up the remainder of the bitten peach. He rubs it against Jon's hipbone and gives him a burning look.

"My turn."

*

Malcolm can't get the shuddering of the ship out of his mind. Phlox has offered him sedatives, but he refused them. He needs the clarity. He needs the pain.

Wandering into the Armory, he looks around. Of course, he thinks, this is mine. The polish on the metal stands out among the smoke, a reminder that only hours ago, things had been under his control.

Duty's arm tugs on his, leading him back to the bridge.

"I raised the Vulcan ship's captain, T'Parim," Hoshi says in a detached voice. "She said they'll be here in three hours."

They exchange dull-eyed glances. Three hours is too late for what has happened here.

"Good," he pushes himself to say. Hoshi needs him.

All thirty-four of them do. He is their ranking officer now.

He finally dares to look around, but the bridge is mercifully empty, except for the debris. A thought strikes him suddenly. Thirty-five. Please, God, let there be thirty-five. "You have the bridge, Ensign."

Having nothing left to command, really, she makes no answer as he leaves her for the turbolift. It is, absurdly, working perfectly.

Running down the corridor, he stops before the door he needs. Forcing himself and the door, he steps through into the darkness. His heart hammers.

Suddenly, the dog drags himself from under the bed and springs on him as he sinks to the deck.

"You're fine," he says, bemused by the dog's joy. It's such an utter contrast to his own feelings.

Porthos licks his face. He gathers the dog into his arms and holds his squirming friend tightly. The door slides shut, taking the light with it. Rising, he steps unsteadily across the room. His foot kicks something small and hard. It skitters across the floor, and the sound as it hits the side of the bed brings him back to the moment in the Armory, after he had received his last order. He had dropped his phase pistol in stunned disbelief, but the clatter hadn't blocked out the desperate reality of their situation.

He'd do anything to forget now. The words echo in the darkness anyway: "For the love of God, do it! Fire that cannon."

Enterprise shudders once again, as if tasting her own pain. Her every action since that moment has been slow, shuddering, and difficult. Whimpering, the dog shivers against him, and he automatically scratches the long ears. Porthos relaxes against him, as he has so many times in the past.

Leaning over the nightstand, he turns on the light. Involuntarily, he looks down at the empty bed and the peach pit at his feet, and he remembers the stolen summer days he and Jon had together last year.

The door slides open. Hoshi pulls on his arm, and he surrenders Porthos to her.

"Come on," she says gently. "You need to talk to the crew."

Kneeling, he picks up the peach pit and drops it on the bed.

He is Prometheus, the giver of fire. This time, for his pains, the eagle tears not at his liver, but at his heart.

~the end~