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

Title: Forever

Author: The Moonmoth

Author's e-mail: [email protected]

Fandom: Enterprise

Pairing: Archer/Reed

Rating: PG-13

Category: Slash

Summary: Jon ruminates on the transitory nature of dreams. Episode tag, 4.09 "Kir'Shara.

Spoilers: Season 3, 4.09 Kir'Shara

Comments: For Bev, who requested fluff and cuddles. It isn't exactly fluff, but I hope it still meets with approval.

Archived to Reed's Armory on 07/01/2005.

It feels like I've been away for a long time. It's probably less than a week--hard to tell as the days on Vulcan are shorter than on Earth--but I'm not getting any younger and the heat has taken its toll on me. Now I'm home on Enterprise, the Kir'Shara in safe hands, Surak out of my head, and once again she's more than a little worse for wear. The High Command's fleet really gave her a punishing, but Trip assures me it's just a few holes to shore up. We'll be on our way again sometime tomorrow morning. So I'm going to hit the shower and then bed, and leave it up to Trip and Malcolm.

I'm proud of them. Despite the odd disagreement they worked smoothly together and saved the day, prevented a war. I'm damn proud. But the thought brings an old worry back to the forefront of my mind, that my crew and their combined experience--my senior staff, especially--are really too valuable to be kept all together on the one ship for much longer. I expect one day soon, the call will come through--a promotion, maybe more than one--and they'll be gone. More ships like Enterprise and Columbus are under construction, I know. It would be a smart move, having T'Pol or Trip captain one of them. Hoshi and Travis are well overdue promotion to lieutenant. Phlox will, I'm sure, be in demand back at the new academy.

And Malcolm. My Malcolm. An excellent first officer, sooner rather than later, I have no doubt. 'It's time for Earth to stand on its own,' T'Pau said. A new beginning. Now more than ever, I'm unsure about what the future will hold, for all of us. We're living our dream, but it can't last forever. That's the thing about dreams--at some point you have to wake up, move on and accept that the moments of simple, pure perfection that you strove for, ached for, have passed. All things end. In a way, this dream is already over, our innocence destroyed, a casualty of war. We can no longer be what we once were, but new dreams can be dreamt. The human capacity for that seems boundless.

Entering my quarters I find my bed already occupied, and feel my heart skip as a flush of pleasure and affection runs through me. Malcolm is lying flat on his back, spread out across the double bed wearing only a pair of baggy shorts. His pale skin in the low lighting looks smooth and enticing, and his face--God, I love to watch him sleep, the innocence and simplicity I see now such a contrast to the complex man I share my life with.

Unable to resist, I carefully lie down next to him on the bed and watch him for a little while. Closer now, I can see the fine lines and creases that have formed on his face, no longer completely smoothed by sleep. It strikes me that he, too, is no longer young and I feel unaccountably sad, as though he's lost something precious, as though it's somehow my fault. I reach out, running my fingers across his forehead, down his temple, along the line of his cheekbone, tracing the years, so caught up in my strange sorrow that I don't notice the change in his breathing until he speaks.

'You're back,' he sighs, barely awake. I smile and lean in to kiss his cheek but stop midway when I catch his expression. 'And you really smell,' he says, nose wrinkled up in protest. I have to laugh because he just looks so damn cute.

'Lieutenant, not even you could spend a week in the Vulcan desert and come out smelling of roses.'

He opens one eye a crack and tries to look haughty. 'I beg to differ.' He blinks, opens the other eye. 'It's entirely possible that you look worse than you smell.'

'Fine, Malcolm, I'll go take a shower.' I make to get up and he rolls over, hooks a leg over mine.

'Don't go, Jon.' I look down at him, sleepy and beautiful, and shake my head, relaxing back down into the pillow. He reaches out a hand behind my neck and pulls me in for a quick, tender kiss, then wraps himself around me.

I hold him for a moment in silence, completely content. Then I remember why I'm back in my quarters, off-duty, when the ship is so badly damaged. 'Is Trip still with the repair crews?'

He nods into my chest. 'Mmm hmm.'

'So why are you in here acting as Captain's bed warmer instead of out there helping?' I can feel him grinning and he shrugs.

'I finished all of my repairs. Started helping Trip but he sent me away, said I was 'trying his patience', of all things. Me!'

I rub little circles soothingly into his back. 'You know how cranky he gets when he hasn't had much sleep.' Because it's not like Malcolm isn't capable of provoking the commander...

'Yes, well, there wasn't anything else that couldn't wait for the morning...' he yawns, 'and anyway, I haven't seen you in forever. I missed you.'

'I missed you, too.' I kiss the top of his head, breathing in the familiar scent of his hair, and sigh a little shakily. He looks up at me, squinting against tiredness.

'Are you okay, Jon?'

'Yeah... you know... it was difficult. T'Pol's mom was killed...'

He nods and a lock of hair falls over his forehead. 'I heard. Is she alright?'

I reach out and brush the lock aside. 'She will be.' Just another lesson in the transitory nature of life--one lesson of many. Letting my hand rest on his cheek, stroking the soft skin under his eye with my thumb, I look into his eyes and am swept with a deep, powerful emotion. 'I love you.'

'I love you, too.' He leans down to kiss me. 'I really do.' Laying his head back down on my chest, he squeezes me a little tighter for a moment. 'Are you sure you're okay?'

'Just feeling my age.'

'And...?'

And nothing, I want to say, but he knows me better than that. 'And... I was thinking about how well you handled this situation. All of you. You've done yourselves proud.'

'But?'

'Remember how we used to be when we first set out? So wide-eyed and innocent-'

He snorts, 'I was never innocent.' I don't point out how much he's changed since the war with the Xindi, because we all have and it's pointless and he knows anyway.

'Everything was new,' I continue, 'and we were so naive, but somehow we fumbled through it together.' I pause for a moment, thinking how best to put it. 'My chief engineer just averted a war using diplomacy and tact!' I think that says it all, really.

'You think we don't need you anymore,' Malcolm says, as always cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

'Yes... No...' I shake my head, trying to sort it all through in my mind. 'You're all... coming of age. Trip'll be ready for his own command soon, and you...' I find myself staring into his eyes once more, lost for words.

'Jon, I'll never leave you.' I start to protest that he won't have much choice, should he be reassigned with his eventual promotion, but he shuts me up with a lingering kiss and when he pulls away his eyes are dark, bottomless. 'It's true that there may be a time when I have to physically leave your side, but Jon, if there's one thing you should know after all this time, it's that wherever I am, whomever I'm with, I will always be yours.'

'You can't make that promise--'

'Yes, I can.'

He says it with such conviction, looks so completely earnest, that I can't hide how moved I am. I pull him down, wrap him tight in my arms and he holds me back, keeping me safe from my own fears. For a long time we just hold each other and I revel in the warmth and feel of his body pressed fully against mine.

Eventually I feel him grow heavy, loosening his hold on me, breathing becoming deep and regular--asleep again. Carefully, I roll him off of me and head towards the bathroom, stripping off my filthy uniform as I go. Stepping into the shower, rinsing the sand and dirt and blood from my body, my aching muscles slowly untwisting, I marvel at how good it feels to be clean again. And how much better, to be home. Drying off, I pull on a pair of sweats and all but fall into bed, spooning myself tightly around a softly snoring Malcolm. My Malcolm. The man that I love more than anything in the Universe, who will always be mine.

As I begin to drift off to sleep, curled securely around Malcolm, I feel a wave of affection and deep, deep contentment sweeping over me. I think, our lives and the dreams we conjure up to guide them may be fleeting, in the grand scheme of things, but right now I can believe that love will last forever. And loving Malcolm is perhaps the realisation of the greatest dream of all.

~the end~