1. Prologue

Author's Note: This story is SLASH. It means there will be a relationship between two male characters (as it happens, it will be Trip with my original male character and Archer/Tucker). If this offends you, I ask you not to read further, or ignore the slash, because I do not wish to offend anyone.

Although I am posting only this very short first chapter, you don't have to worry, a rough draft of this story is finished already, so it may take me some time to post everything, but this story will NOT be abandoned. I am open to any suggestions and constructive criticism. :)

**One**

_You look so fine, I want __to break you and make you mine._

You stretch on our bed lazily.

I call it ours although you are not mine...yet, but soon, I am sure. Although you may not be aware of it, I feel your denied desire. You know that I need you too, don't you?

Don't worry about the pain. It will pass soon, now when you are to stay here…

_Khari_, with two, there can't be loneliness any more. I'll take care of you; you will learn to be content with time. I will wait. Patiently.

You stir before sitting up slowly and I can't help myself but smile at your appearance - it always takes you a little while to really wake.

At my touch your eyes open wide and you gaze at me thoughtfully. You look confused today – as if there is something you need to remember; there is nothing to remember; we will make our own memories.

I shouldn't have asked, you tell me about your dream, the one you know I despise to hear about. You are telling it so heatedly that I feel anger well up in me. In between you sip the tea I had prepared for you. Once the hated dream of yours is told in its entirety once again, you fall silent. After a moment I notice that you scratch your forearm absentmindedly. Both of them are already covered in scratches. If you carry on this morning habit they'll never heal. I tell you to stop yet, you keep scratching for a while longer, only after I catch your hand, you jerk to awareness and smile apologetically wrapping your hands firmly around your teacup. Your thoughts ran away once again, didn't they?

When I see you like this, with your eyes so distant, I once again realize that the link between our souls hasn't been sealed yet. The day it happens, I'll find my peace, for I can't lose you then. You are my life in the middle of dead nothing.


	2. Two worlds

**Chapter 2**

Two lives

Captain Archer standing at the helm of Shuttlepod II might have appeared calm, but Hoshi could see his fisted hands behind his back. Her own body was reacting to the stress it was subjected to in various ways; what first started with wringing of hands in her lap continued now in irregular sickening stomach cramps.

Hoshi searched in her extensive vocabulary for a suitable expression that would really convey everything she felt; nothing came to her mind though. Maybe _twister _wouldn't be so bad - her intestines certainly were twisting into impossible shapes the whole ride. It wasn't a perfect word and under normal circumstances she would never suffer under such horrendous lack of proper vocabulary, but their last eight weeks had been everything, but normal, ever since Commander Tucker got lost on Keira II - the planet, which was now filling the whole shuttlepod screen.

Eight weeks. That was a long time on a planet with hostile weather conditions. It was such a long time that Hoshi barely recalled the seemingly innocent argument between Commander Tucker and T'Pol that was at the beginning of everything. If only she had known that such a harmless scientific conversation could lead them here.

She dared a quick glance at the captain staring stonily ahead. It seemed like such a fickle matter: dilithium in the purest form ever. Hoshi winced just thinking about it. Only Commander Tucker would be mad enough to insist on sampling some rocks on a planet with unstable weather conditions and a storm approaching. Ten hours to get there and back, piece of cake, sure, Commander.

Hoshi once again spared Keira II a glance. Somewhere under tons of desert sand were caves with almost absolutely pure dilithium. Even T'Pol got interested in it when the commander mentioned it, but that was to be expected, logical even - T'Pol was in her heart (or brain) a scientist after all and the commander could be very persistent if he set his mind on something. It was only a question of time before Archer finally relented too. And relent he did. So the commander was permitted to go for a sampling trip: in and out, nothing else, a quickie, which started eight weeks ago…

Two months were a very long period to sit and guess what had happened, especially when everything seemed to be going well: The landing was smooth, the caves supposedly even better than originally expected…Hoshi had listened to all commander's incoming transmissions, she was even amused how happy the commander sounded because of a few rocks. With three hours still to go there was only one cave a little further away to be checked, the commander sounded very hopeful about it, but whether it exceeded all expectations as well, they never got to know.

Their communication signal got interrupted and no further message was received. Yet before anyone could go down to find out where the problem was, the dreaded sandstorm arrived, out of blue, very quickly and with a scaring intensity. Despite their advanced equipment and sensors, they were blind as bats, unable to pierce it. Hoshi had lived in a few countries with rain seasons, but never in one with a storm season, and this one was called "season" for a reason, it lasted _very_ long.

It didn't take long before being on the same spot with too much time and thoughts on their hands became nerve wracking. At first they had some time to pursue their different scientific and personal projects. If the circumstances were different, she would even call the time off fortunate, because despite appearances, life on a Starfleet ship wasn't very different from the life on the Earth – there were too many things planned and too little time to realize them.

The storm was as strong and persistent as they had expected, so most of the projects even got finished. This added activity did relieve them a little, not nearly enough, though.

Ironically, during this stressing time it was unemotional T'Pol who had managed to bring the worried captain a little consolation and relieve him from his inner turmoil: after one week the storm weakened enough for the scans to pierce the planet's raging atmosphere and perform a bioscan again. It was a blind shot, but they were lucky and got a weak flicker of the commander.

T'Pol wasn't absolutely sure whether the signal was so weak due to the storm, or because the commander was injured or unwell, therefore she was careful not to cause any undue optimism; yet so typically for humans, the captain chose to listen only to one half of her report absolutely convinced that once the storm cleared, they would go down and find Commander Tucker sound and well. T'Pol herself remained reserved, since the only thing clear was that the commander was still alive. After that she monitored the area where the biosigns had appeared with great care, but they were lucky only rarely.

About three weeks after their initial success they were able to pierce the storm again. They revealed not only biosigns of commander Tucker, but also of someone near him. T'Pol determined it was a humanoid, but definitely not a human - it seemed like the commander had company.

There were also other biosigns on the planet, of course, but mostly centered around the poles and not in the vicinity of the storm, where the commander had disappeared.

During the eight-weeks long observation, the spots in the desert occasionally appeared and disappeared as the storm raged, but they were always close to each other. T'Pol had managed to locate them four times, always at the same place. Obviously the commander and his companion weren't moving and were keeping together.

Hoshi looked at their small landing party. It took eight weeks for the storm to quiet down enough to land a shuttlepod safely. They got a little shaken and rattled by the disappearing turbulences in the atmosphere, but lieutenant Reed piloted confidently and soon they landed on Keira II.

They climbed out of the shuttlepod and were greeted by the sight of an obviously abandoned Shuttelpod I. It was half-burried in sand and gleaming glumly in rising Keiran sun.

Lieutenant Reed immediately took a practical approach to everything and oblivious to all beauties Keira had to offer he started scanning their surroundings. "There is no-one in our proximity, sir," he offered in a clipped professional voice.

Archer nodded and pulled out his communicator, "Archer to Enterprise."

"Enterprise here," T'Pol's voice was twisted with distortions.

"Sub-commander, please navigate us to Trip. Our readings are jumbled because of the dilithium all around."

"Certainly, sir. At the moment commander Tucker and his companion are 3.7 km south and unmoving."

"Thank you, Archer out."

When Archer closed the communication, he looked to Malcolm Reed, who was crawling out of the almost sand-covered Shuttlepod I.

"It's still loaded with dilithium. There appears to be an error in the engine circuit, which could have been caused during the storm, but it's nothing a short session in Engineering wouldn't repair, I think," he put his right hand on the outer hull, "I wonder why Commander Tucker isn't already here. He didn't even attempt to communicate with us, although the communicators are working fine."

"We'll find out soon enough," Archer mumbled and nodded towards south.

Without unnecessary talking they set out in the appointed direction with T'Pol occasionally correcting their course when they strayed, but with greater distance from the caves their readings became clearer and her input less necessary.

The morning was progressing and although the temperature didn't climb that high, they were sweating profoundly.

They had been walking about fifteen minutes when Archer, who was leading their small group, suddenly stopped and tensed. His scanner was beeping wildly and in the distance they could see the reason for it: about 500 meters ahead and a little to left was a simple house leaning against a sand rock - they had found what they were looking for.

As they neared it, smaller details became visible: the house was built from an unknown white rock with glittering surface. It seemed rather practical with enough room to live somewhat comfortably, its glittering surface giving him a look of extreme cleanness.

As they came closer, Hoshi realized their group tightened; as if everyone realized that in a few meters, they might encounter just about everything. Maybe in three hours they would be back on Enterprise already. They just needed luck.

From nearer the house was bigger and though still sparkling, it seemed eerily quiet. They gathered in front of a large dark door suddenly unsure how to proceed. There was no indication of any activity, although Lieutenant Reed had confirmed the presence of two people just behind the door.

Captain Archer pulled up to his full weight and with his hand wrapped securely around the phaser, he knocked. Whatever they may have been expecting, it was not what they were faced with: the door gave in easily and opened, revealing a large room with a double bed, where Tucker lay calmly. Next to him was sprawled a male humanoid, his hand was possessively draped over Tucker's stomach disappearing inside his creamy robes, while his lips were resting on the commander's neck.

As the door opened the alien jerked away and revealed a brand new love-bite.

Both men on the bed looked at the party shocked.

The alien recovered as first, incredibly quickly he leaped out of the bed to attack; however, Malcolm Reed took aim faster. Everyone froze in mid motion, carefully assessing each other. Judging from his glare, the alien had never seen a phase pistol before, but his grim expression indicated that he understood the situation very well - any violent action would be foolish. He let his fists sink slowly, eyeing their whole group mutely.

He scrutinized their standard uniforms thoughtfully, his eyes glided from Archer to Tucker on the bed and back to Archer, then he looked the captain squarely in the eye and smiled knowingly.

Reed tensed at the obvious challenge; however, Archer remained calm, he released the alien's gaze and stretched to look over the male's shoulder at Tucker. "Trip, are you all right?"

Tucker frowned, then his face cleared into a blank mask again. He turned to the alien and quickly asked something. The language he used was the same one Hoshi picked up in the fragmented transmissions from the inhabited poles of the planet. It sounded strange in comparison to everything they had heard; it was very melodic with a quick succession of words.

The alien shrugged and glanced to them with disdain, but when he turned away from Tucker back to them, his eyes were gleaming victoriously.

"Commander Tucker was asking, Sorro, this alien, who we were," Hoshi had never translated anything with more satisfaction. The effect was immediate - although Sorro couldn't have understood them, he grasped quickly what was going on, his features twisted hatefully, he pulled up into his full intimidating height glaring at them squarely. Archer returned his stare stonily.

"Tell Trip we're his friends and we don't want to harm him, or anyone else," he added with emphasis.

Hoshi thought for a short moment before she formed the sentence. Silence that followed her translation was dripping thickly. Sorro's eyes darkened with fury.

Tucker ignored this and eyed their group with confusion. He scrambled to the foot of the bed and leaning to Sorro he muttered something, then for the first time he directly addressed Archer.

"Commander Tucker says he doesn't understand our purpose here," Hoshi translated.

Archer ignored the angry alien and spoke straight to his friend: "We'll take you home, Trip. To Enterprise."

Before Hoshi could translate that, Tucker's eyes widened. He cocked his head and uncertainly tried out, "En-t'-prise."

"Yes, back home, to Enterprise," Archer confirmed encouraged by their breakthrough.

Their hopes were crushed when Tucker shook his head in resolute denial. Observing that, Sorro smiled viciously, sat down on the foot of the bed and put his arm around Tucker's shoulders.

Reed leaned to the captain and murmured, "He doesn't even know what we're talking about."

Archer nodded gravely. For a quick in and out action they had planned, things were getting a little too complicated and now it seemed like it would be neither clean, nor quick; the longer they lingered on the planet, the greater the chance that something unexpected would happen. Archer frowned, pulled out his phaser and aimed at the two men in bed. "I am sorry, Trip, but you must come with us."

Archer motioned to Tucker to stand up and go with them. Tucker growled, but dragged himself off the bed and went around them to the door in a wide circle as he was instructed. In the doorway he paused and glanced back at Sorro desperately, but Archer and Hoshi blocked his view and lead him out into baking sun.

After a short buzzing sound from the house Reed left as the last one, over-carefully closing the door behind him. "I stunned him. I don't want him jump our backs," he informed the captain dryly.

Hoshi shuddered a little at the sheer purposefulness, but the captain seemed satisfied. Thinking about it, Sorro seemed like a force to be reckoned with and…she looked at Tucker staring back at the house, they were going to have their hands full with him even without constantly turning to look over their shoulders.

The commander was standing in their small protective circle gazing at them mutinously. He wrenched his arm from Hoshi's gentle hold and turned to the house, but before he could make a step forward he bumped into the captain's larger frame. Archer's strong arms efficiently absorbed his initial efforts to flee and quickly convinced the commander that his struggles were futile.

"Khari!" Tucker cried out desperately, holding onto Archer fiercely. Finally after he ceased struggling Archer turned him around and prodded him to walk in the direction of their shuttles.

For a moment Tucker caught Hoshi's eyes. She turned away as if burned by the intensity of his gaze. She too had loved.

During their walk back Hoshi realized she was watching the commander cautiously. It seemed that Tucker had grasped he wouldn't be able to escape. His tranquil inaction was unnerving her. He was walking woodenly with his head held and jaw firmly set. She could only guess what thoughts were running in his head, but they didn't seem pleasant.

Irony how the card turned: they came to save him and became his captors instead, she mused grimly. Hoshi glanced over her shoulder. The house wasn't visible anymore and although Tucker had not glanced back once, she could imagine how he felt and from the looks Captain Archer and Lieutenant Reed were being given, her assessment wasn't so incorrect.

Finally they spotted their shuttles by the caves. Hoshi let out a relieved sigh. She didn't realize that she had been holding her breath the whole time, but there was nothing to worry about any more; both shuttles were just as they had left them and soon the commander would be in Phlox' competent hands and then everything would be fine. Didn't the captain and doctor do one-minute miracles all the time?

Reed began preparing hooks in shuttlepod to get hold of the damaged Shuttlepod I.

Meanwhile the captain brought out his communicator and called the Enterprise.

"Enterprise here." Dilithium interferences appeared again, influencing the quality of the signal. T'Pol's voice was shrieking and twisting.

"T'Pol, we run into some unexpected problems. Ask Doctor Phlox to await us in Sickbay immediately after our arrival."

"Is there an emergency?"

Archer glanced at Tucker, who was gazing back at him hatefully. He answered at length, "No. Not in the real sense. It's not life-threatening, I think."

"I understand."

"Archer out."

Reed stopped at the captain's side. "It's finished. Flying with the shuttlepod attached would be a little difficult, but we'll manage." He opened their shuttle, climbed in and was now waiting for the others to join him. He visibly relaxed when they were all ushered in.

He sat down to the console and checked readings of sensors. "Someone is approaching us," he warned tightly.

Hitherto relatively calm Tucker tensed and looked through the closing shuttle door at the desert. Without a hesitation he lunged towards the closing door. Archer reacted automatically: he grabbed Tucker by shoulders and tried to jerk him back in, but Tucker swiftly turned and punched the larger man squarely in the jaw. Momentarily dazed, Archer let go of the man and stumbled backwards.

"Clear the space!" Reed roared. Then Tucker went limp as a bright phaser-beam crossed the space and stunned him.

Archer collected himself quickly and helped Hoshi to carry Tucker back in the shuttle.

Before the door finally closed Hoshi caught a glimpse of a man running through the desert to the shuttles. The figure was still quite far, but she could tell it was a large man.

"That's Sorro!" she warned. "I thought he is stunned."

Archer, trying to get his friend at one of the medical beds, mumbled with difficulty, "Perhaps their nerves enable them to absorb shocks better."

They finally, after some effort, managed to secure the commander and sit down themselves.

When they looked out, they found out they were already high above the ground and Sorro was only a small spot that wasn't moving anymore. Satisfied, Archer returned back into the back of the shuttle, he sat down at the seat closest to the bed and began massaging his bruised jaw.

For a while their shuttle fell into silence. Eventually Hoshi voiced their thoughts: "He didn't recognize us at all. He doesn't even speak English!"

Reed looked into the back of the shuttlepod darkly, but didn't say anything. Archer glanced at his unconscious friend. "Phlox'll find out what is going on."

Their journey back to Enterprise was uneventful and silent since their minds were occupied with many concerns; yet, when the Enterprise came in their view, all gathered before the screen. It was a sight worth to behold. The ship was partly illuminated by Keiran sun and glistening while on the shaded part shone many small rectangular windows of private quarters and other facilities; occasionally one or another dimmed or lit up – the ship was pulsing with life.

Suddenly Archer jerked and turned around, disturbed by a faint rustling from the back of the shuttle. Tucker on the bed appeared still a little dazed, but he was getting lucid rapidly. He was moving his arms slightly, probing the straps holding him put.

Archer walked over and crouched by the man, he gave him a warning look before wordlessly loosening the binds.

Tucker was observing everything with distrust, but when he was free he stood up and walked in front of Archer to the front, where the others were.

Enterprise was now taking up the whole view.

Archer motioned towards the ship loosely, "Isn't she beautiful, Trip?" he asked although there wasn't likely an answer forthcoming.

Tucker was gazing out with eyes wide open; he appeared almost not to be breathing. His arms were hanging loosely along his body absolutely motionless. "En'prise?" he tried insecurely.

"Yes. Yes, that is Enterprise."

Tucker's eyes didn't avert from the ship for a moment. "Amazing," he breathed out.

All turned to him shocked.

"You understand us?" Reed questioned suspiciously.

Tucker frowned at the tone and turned to Hoshi, who translated the question.

"A…little." With that he gave the ship one last look and returned to the back of the shuttle, where he sat down on the bed and hunched forward.

Archer closed his eyes briefly. He was grateful that the doctor would be awaiting their arrival; he would be more relaxed when he handed his friend over into Phlox' competent hands.

Archer was torn out of his reverie when Lieutenant Reed smoothly docked the shuttle and they could finally step on the board of Enterprise. Tucker was a little hesitant, moving only slowly, but well timed prodding from the captain was convincing enough to make him go ahead. Although the touch couldn't be described as intimate or threatening, the capain noticed it was making Tucker uncomfortable.

Archer motioned to Hoshi to follow them and prodded the other man in the direction of Sickbay again. "Please tell him he shouldn't worry. Doctor Phlox won't hurt him. He will only check him out."

When Hoshi translated it, Tucker nodded affirmatively, albeit reluctantly.

Actually, Archer was surprised how well Tucker fared: he was abducted from his supposed home by absolute strangers on a spaceship, no less, yet so far he didn't show fear or panic. It was almost too much to require - Tucker must have been plotting something.

Archer studied his impassive friend with short side-glances. Tucker was walking a little stiffly and seemed thinner, tired even. He was gazing straight ahead, but his eyes occasionally darted over several technical panels they had passed by.

When they came to Sickbay, Phlox was standing by the doors awaiting them. He approached them, but when Tucker spotted the Denobulan, he gasped and backed away.

Archer reached out to him a put a halting hand on his shoulder to both stop and reassure him, "It's alright. This is our doctor - Phlox."

Tucker tilted his head slightly watching the alien doctor for a few moments, then nodded and stepped closer.

"Captain, can you please explain the situation?" Phlox appeared more surprised than offended.

"We found Trip on Keira II. It seems like he doesn't recognize us, nor does he speak English."

Phlox instantly began mentally listing probable conclusions. "Commander Tucker's condition can have several explanations. The most plausible one would be a head injury."

Archer immediately looked at the top of Tucker's ragged blond hair, but he couldn't see anything out of ordinary only that the man's hair was longer and darker than usually.

"It could have been an older injury that isn't visible anymore." Phlox patted one biobed.

Tucker grasped his gesture and climbed up. With interest and also slight suspicion his eyes followed both men keenly. He jerked nervously when Phlox brought up a medical scanner, but allowed the doctor to scan him.

Phlox controlled the bioscreen over the bed and compared the results with information received from his scanner.

Archer had only basic medical training, but could see the results weren't normal. Doctor's occasional grunting or lifting of eyebrows only confirmed his worried suspicions. After several long minutes the doctor put down all his devices, since he finally seemed to come to a conclusion.

"Well, Doctor?" Archer couldn't hold his worry back.

"I must admit these results don't make much sense. I discovered two already healed fractures: the commander had a broken rib and right femur. Both of these traumas were very well taken care of and healed nicely. He also lost seven kilos, but that isn't significant. I didn't manage to find any signs of a recent head trauma, but the brain activity isn't at his standard level. There are also other incongruous signs, but I need more tests to explain them. All in all, I can't tell you anything now, I am sorry, Captain."

Archer regarded the doctor with dismay; this was definitely not what he wanted to hear, although he had expected it.

"Can I have a look at your jaw?" The doctor surprised him; he almost forgot about it, but before he could object, the doctor reached out and gently tried it. He nervously jerked his head, "Don't worry about it, Phlox. It's just a bruise, it will fade soon."

Luckily the doctor didn't press on, only muttered: "Let me give you at least some cream for it. Use it twice a day until the bruise fades entirely. It should work quickly."

Archer took the handed tube sceptically convinced, that nothing of that sort was necessary to heal a good old-fashioned bruise. He turned to Sato, who was fiddling with universal translator.

"Hoshi, I must ask you to remain here with Trip."

"Of course, Captain. I noticed that Sorro's dialect is a little different from what we had picked up, so I've started programming the UT. I should finish it in a few hours."

Archer smiled faintly at her eagerness. He was already walking out of the sickbay when he called over his shoulder, "Doctor, let me know as soon as you find anything."

"Certainly, you'll be the first to know, Captain."


	3. Edges

Chapter 3

**Author's note: **I don't know how to apologize to you, who have been waiting for this. I am very sorry it took this long to update. I hope you won't be disappointed and in case you are, tell me anyway. Constructive criticism is encouraged.

**UT- universal translator**

**Chapter 3**

Archer was on the bridge trying not to project his anxiety; although he was on duty he couldn't keep a tight rein on his thoughts, which were constantly returning to the occurrences of the previous day. After days and weeks of mental strain, he wasn't prepared for more - he felt exhausted and ready to snap. Thoughtfully he reached out and touched his bruised jaw, which now colored into a strange shade of black, even the lightest touch was making him wince; his nerve endings were just as over-sensitivised as his mind.

"Archer to engineering."

He almost cursed his decision to inquire when Hess' hopeful voice responded to his call. "Hess here. Can I do something for you, sir?"

"Did you manage to repair the shuttelpod?" he asked sharply.

"Yes, sir. It's fully functional. Now we only need to figure out what to do with the sand." Immediately Archer felt guilty for the sudden tightness in her voice.

"Very good," he was about to close the channel, when a question stopped him.

"Any news, sir?"

Archer's fingers curled around his chair reflexively. "Not that I know of."

He noticed how Reed, listening to their conversation, flinched at his harsh tone, so he added more softly, "Phlox is working on it. I'm sure he'll have something soon."

It would be nice to have some news, Archer admitted to himself. It was almost 24 hours since they got Tucker back and nothing from the infirmary yet, whatever was the doctor testing he was taking his time.

Archer tightly intertwined his fingers to prevent them from impatient drumming. The crew was almost palpably irritated already - they were finishing their last scientific observations and only waiting for the word from Phlox to be sure they could leave.

This would certainly be the best-mapped planet in the history of Starfleet, Archer thought wryly.

Dejected he sunk back into his chair looking ahead blankly, not sparing a glance to the planet taking their whole screen; he was sick and tired of staring at it: they had discovered everything about it that could be discovered with geography beginning and inhabitants ending and none of it was especially interesting. The inhabitants were centered around the poles with rich soil and although they were biologically close to humans, they lacked some traits typical for humans such as interest in technology: they devoted their time mostly to agriculture…and they were boring. So once again Archer found himself observing the relativity of time and how terribly it could stretch.

He really couldn't imagine what sort of tests Phlox must have been running in order to take this much time, not to mention the fact that he had asked T'Pol for assistance. Archer hoped that this fact didn't bode ill for them. He had tried to fish for information the previous day and right before his shift, but he wasn't very successful.

"Sickbay to Captain Archer."

Archer bolted out of his chair from excitement, "I am already on my way…"

Phlox said something in return, but Archer couldn't hear what since he was already standing in the lift and the doors were closing.

When he arrived to Sickbay, he was breathing deeply and his adrenaline was climbing high; however, before he could march into sickbay, the doctor stepped out and halted him.

Through the opened door Phlox motioned towards his only patient sleeping soundly. Grasping, Archer nodded and they entered quietly as not to wake Tucker nor disturb T'Pol working silently at the back of the infirmary lab.

Once inside, Archer got a better view of his friend. Instead of his creamy robes from the planet Tucker was dressed in usual Sickbay clothes and slumbering - he appeared as if he was in Sickbay only due to a minor mishap so typical for Engineering.

Phlox took the captain into a further corner. "We've been performing many tests almost the whole night and the commander is very tired, so I won't wake him," he explained shortly. Archer frowned, it took him a moment to compose and finally ask: "So what's the news?"

"As you may remember, I mentioned that the commander's brain hasn't been working at its usual level, but at that time I couldn't determine the cause. I've scanned it and repeatedly performed a blood test. It seems that his whole body, meaning his brain, bloodstream, and even his muscles, is full of an unknown chemical substance. T'Pol helped me to analyze it and we found out that it's not synthesized, but merely a mixture of more than twenty chemical elements freely present on Keira.

"The mixture alters brain chemistry and influences perceptiveness. We assume that due to its special consistence it is able to dampen the activity of certain brain areas with specific chemistry. It doesn't damage them mechanically, but changes their chemical balance and prevents passing of electric impulses in synapses, which means those areas are practically isolated. If this state lasts for a longer period, it could become permanent, since even brain can repair only to a certain extent."

Archer took a deep breath, but before he could ask, Phlox continued.

"We analyzed Commander's clothes. In its fibers we found microscopic traces of minerals required for this substance. T'Pol's chemical analysis of sand from the retrieved shuttlepod and also from the commander's clothes confirmed that all single elements of this mixture were present; however, we believe that the probability of getting such a large amount of this extremely sophisticated mixture into his system by chance is zero."

Archer frowned as his mind reeled the facts off, his hands fisted. "So he drugged Trip purposefully?" A flash of Sorro's knowing grin came to him and in the moment Archer felt an urge to return to Keira to throttle the man.

Suddenly, Tucker on his bed moaned and turned on the other side, Archer's eyes immediately sought out his friend. With his gaze still trained at the prone figure he forcefully unfisted his hands. "What will happen with Trip?"

"We have monitored commander's brain activity and bloodstream the whole time. It is very fortunate that the substance is of a purely natural origin because his body is already trying to purge it out naturally. You brought him back on time. If he was given the drug longer, his brain might have been influenced too radically; however, the commander has a good deal of luck as well."

When Phlox met Archer's incredulous stare, he quickly elaborated. "We determined he is allergic to one of the components, hence the scratches on his arms, which by the way will heal completely. The allergy is only mild, but the drug administrator was well aware that if Commander Tucker came in contact with the allergen too often, his predisposition could develop and the commander could slip into a serious anaphylactic shock, so they applied extremely small dosages. Whatever _they _had in mind, they weren't interested in harming the commander."

"As I said, you found him in time. We determined that some of his brain centers, among them also his memory, were already getting isolated, but the synapses weren't inactive long enough. I believe that after the substance has absolutely left his system, the commander could possibly regain his complete memory and all other brain functions that were partially or completely hindered. It was much easier for us to ascertain his brain functions once the commander started communicating with us a little."

"Hoshi finished programming the UT?" Archer wondered impressed.

Phlox smiled grimly and moved to a large screen over the body scanner. He called up a computer image of what must have been Tucker's brain; most of it was colored green with several bleak yellow areas.

"It wasn't even necessary," he pointed at one of the yellowish areas, "as you can see the centers for speech and language weren't influenced at all. Commander Tucker was fooling us, so to say."

Archer's head snapped around to the resting figure, "So he does understand us!"

"Oh, yes. He does. The small amount of the substance that is concentrated in this area doesn't influence language skills. So yes. He does."

Phlox studied the brain-scan again. "I must say, for a primitive planet like Keira this substance really is a remarkable piece of work."

Archer growled in frustration; he wasn't a physician, but brain wasn't a jelly. Wasn't it a little too optimistic to assume that time could heal everything?

"So it would go away…just like that," he snapped with fingers in the air.

Phlox immediately tore out of his reverie and frowned. "No, of course not. Human brain is very sensitive to any kind of influence. During its return to normal, it would go through many changes, but this problem doesn't concern only the chemical aspect, if I recall right, the whole human psychology is based on your past experiences and people surrounding you - you are learning. Apart from his natural temperament, Commander Tucker was for eight weeks shaped only by Sorro, or so it seems. He is Khari now. There are some traits that are characteristic for the commander as we know him, but other than that we could even go as far as to declare him for another person. I can only guess what will happen when, or rather if, the commander's old memories will resurface and his brain returns to normal. In the best case the personalities would simply blend."

Archer was saved from the vicious task of asking about the worst scenario by a beeping of the comm.

"Bridge to Captain Archer." It was Reed and he sounded very serious.

"Archer here."

"We have three Suliban ships on our long-range scanners."  
"I'll be right there." He nodded to Phlox, indicating their talk would need to wait.

"Doctor, I don't think you will require my assistance anymore, so I will return to my duties on the bridge." T'Pol announced and joined Archer and they left the Infirmary together.

"Suliban here. Quite surprising," Archer wondered aloud as they marched towards the bridge.

"Indeed it is, Captain. Maybe we are not the only ones who got interested in the dilithium."

Archer cursed inside: it was logical they weren't the only ones, but why exactly the Sulibans, it seemed that they were running out of luck once again.

Immediately after they entered the bridge he felt the palpable tension there.

Reed studied his console darkly, then turned to him to report. "We've detected three heavily armed Suliban ships heading here with Warp 3. At their current speed they will reach us within 48 hours."

Archer damned the moment he wished for a small distraction. "Travis, set a new course away from here, Warp 4."

"Ensign Mayweather, please belay this order." All heads on the bridge snapped to T'Pol, who calmly faced Archer. "Captain, may I have a private discussion with you?"

Archer sprung to his feet and briskly ordered: "Come to my Ready room."

As soon as the doors swooshed behind them, he turned to her expectantly.

"Sub-commander, is there something on your mind?" he was trying hard not to bark.

"Before we leave this solar system, I have to remind you to take Khari into consideration."

Archer frowned and carefully folded his hands behind his back to gain some time. "I don't see your point. Of course I considered Trip."

"Correct. You took into consideration the welfare of Commander Tucker, but as you know, he is not quite himself at the moment."

"I know he is not, but Doctor Phlox said he would be well," Archer snapped.

"As a matter of fact, Captain, he did not. The doctor said Commander Tucker would be_ most likely_ well after the substance left his system and his brain re-established its former chemistry. Yet there is still the chance that the commander would not return to his former self even after the drug left his system."

Archer unfolded his fists behind his back slowly, "What do you suggest?"

T'Pol ignored his tight tone and continued evenly. "If mister Tucker does not regain his previous memories, he would be Tucker practically only by his DNA, but psychologically speaking, he would be Khari. In that case we would be speaking about a new independent sentient being with all human rights and as such, Khari has the right to make the decision whether to leave with Enterprise, or stay behind on Keira II."

Archer winced. He could very well see where she was heading and he had nothing to fend off her logic. "But Trip is a member of Starfleet and this crew," he protested weakly.

"Indeed, Commander Tucker is, but Khari wouldn't be, he wouldn't have any memories shaping the commander, nor his knowledge that made him a valuable member of this crew."

_A valuable member of the crew,_ Trip would have liked to hear that from T'Pol.

"He would remain equally intelligent," Archer briefly realized he sounded huffy.

"Of course. And with enough time he could get to the same niveau as the commander; however, you have to consider that Khari may have other interests. Not to mention the time factor, Commander Tucker collected his extensive knowledge for many years."

The small rift Archer sometimes felt while dealing with T'Pol was quickly growing into an immense abyss now. His last argument sounded lame even to him: "The chance it would happen is only small."

"Yes, but I believe we must consider it as a valid possibility anyway. The commander's system is supposed to clear the drug in about forty hours. The remaining eight hours before the Suliban arrive should present us with enough time to escape far enough from here to be of interest for them."

"Fine. I will wait until Trip makes his decision, but not a moment longer. I can't jeopardize the whole crew because of one member."

T'Pol's eyebrows shot up ironically, "Certainly, sir."

Over the years he had gained many qualities to help him recognize which fights were lost and Archer felt that this one definitely fell in this category, so he dismissed her.

When the doors behind T'Pol closed, he sank in his seat. Terrible stress was straining him and giving him a pounding headache. They had physically Trip back, but the situation didn't improve any, since they could still loose him anyway.

Archer sighed and forced his weary body out of the seat. Before entering the bridge he gave himself a few deep breaths to compose completely. "Travis, scratch my last order. We are staying on the orbit at least for another forty hours." With the corner of the eye he caught Reed's flinch and he could almost literally hear a wave of revolted grumbles sweep over the ship. "T'Pol, you have the bridge. In case you need me, you can reach me through the comm," he excused himself. Leaving the bridge, he felt remotely guilty for the relief that flooded him.

He wasn't sure where to go. He was in Sickbay only recently and he suspected that neither Phlox nor Trip would be pleased to see him. When he was leaving the last time, Phlox appeared to have a lot to do and he hated being disturbed at work. And Trip…

There were too many reasons why Tucker could feel antagonistic; tearing him away from his lover seemed like a good start by naming them.

Archer winced. At the thought of Sorro and Trip being lovers his teeth grinded together like two sandpapers. Everything seemed to get way too far this time.

Archer went on blindly, wallowing in their dark prospects, he realized he had no idea where he went only when his feet stopped on his own; he looked around and he smirked to himself sourly: he was standing in front of milky glass door of Sickbay. It seemed that lately all hallways were leading here.

Archer glanced over the top of the glass inside: Phlox was sitting at his desk tinkering with some vials; it seemed rather mechanical, maybe he wouldn't mind his presence that much then.

When he entered the Denobulan looked up from some samples he was studying to see if the newcomer needed help, "Captain, I thought you have a shift on the bridge," the denobulan greeted him with a smile.

Archer proceeded further encouraged by the doctor's quite warm welcome. "T'Pol is handling the situation." He leaned against the table, took one of the vials with strange muddy liquid in it and began studying it absentmindedly against the light.

Phlox smiled slightly, but firmly took the vial out of his hands. "I am afraid there is only very little that has changed regarding Commander Tucker in the last twenty minutes."

Archer sighed and turned towards the figure still huddled on the biobed across to them. He mouthed, "Asleep?"

Phlox quickly glanced at the readings of a bioscanner above the bed and shook his head. "I had shown Commander Tucker some old reports involving him. He seemed prepared enough to accept that he indeed lived here. He must have realized his memory is too short-spanned and must have asked what was the reason for it. It seems like the chemical is getting out of his system faster when he's stimulated and supporting the neglected centers, so I suggest you try to remind him of his previous life here, it could speed up the process considerably."

"That sounds like a progress, Doctor."

"It's only a theory now, but at least something to start with."

Archer glanced back to the last bed and considered going there to speak with Tucker, who still pretended to be absolutely oblivious of them, but then he turned to leave instead.

He knew that next hours were crucial, Tucker, but at the moment he felt too drained - he could easily destroy more than help. "I'll be in my quarters." Before Phlox had any chance to object, the captain was gone.

The doctor bent over his vials again when a soft shuffling of sheets made him turn towards the only occupied bed. He was surprised to find his patient gazing at the Sickbay door with wide eyes full of wonder.

After they had found that Tucker could understand them, they didn't need to speak through Hoshi anymore, but that didn't mean things went easier: it seemed the commander was sabotaging their every attempt to do anything; he wasn't fighting nor screaming, but his passive disobedience was even destructive.

For the very first time the commander seemed to take interest in something - despite his risen hope Phlox pretended that he didn't notice anything special and stood up to feed his medical creatures. With one eye his attention was resting on his patient, though.

Several minutes had gone by and Tucker was still gazing at the sickbay door. His face mirrored in them was gray from exhaustion, tense and thoughtful. He was mindlessly picking at light bandages covering scratches on his forearms.

"Please stop it, you are disturbing the wounds," Phlox ordered him matter-of-factly, still pretending that he was feeding his pets.

Tucker flinched and smoothed the edges of the bandages back in place. He sat up, put his hands in his lap and studied them intently. "I've got a question."

"Of course," Phlox smiled to himself, still tending his Denobulan worms. It seemed that it was easier for Tucker to talk to him, when he wasn't paying him full attention, so he tried to give the reluctant man as much space as possible; even then Tucker spoke only after a while. "Captain Archer and I? What…" he paused and for a moment Phlox thought that that was it, but then Tucker asked at length. "What was the nature of our relationship?" Tucker's eyes flickered shortly to Phlox, but then darted away quickly.

Phlox closed the lid with his worms and turned to face the man. "You are friends, from what I've seen, the best friends." He watched for any reaction intently, but he couldn't distinguish what flickered in the haggard face that was half turned away; nevertheless, Tucker seemed to be interested - he let his bare feet dangle off the bed to sit comfortably and fully turned to Phlox.

"Tell me something about him," he requested.

Phlox gazed at his patient suddenly unsure what to do: it was the first time that he had shown any interest in something on board, yet somehow the sudden change was unsettling. "I am afraid I know only a little," the doctor started hesitantly.

Tucker impatiently gesticulated to him to go on.

"You and the captain had met during a project his father, Henry Archer, started."

"What kind of project was it?"

"You were developing a warp engine. You have been friends since then, for almost a decade."

Tucker leaned forward with sharp eyes, but before he could ask another question, the doors to Sickbay swooshed and four men supporting two of their colleagues stormed in. "There was an accident in cargo bay."

"Are there more patients?"

"No, only these two."

Phlox quickly took charge, forgetting thoughtful Tucker gazing at Sickbay computer with narrowed eyes…


	4. Primus inter pares

Chapter 4

**I am sorry for making you wait again, my poor beta reader is so terribly busy that I've decided not to wait for her anymore and put her under even more pressure and also not to make you wait even longer. I hope you will have fun reading this ch****apter even after all this time, because events are going to speed up.**

**Chapter 4**

Primus inter pares

Jonathan Archer knew he wasn't the type to spend his entire life sheltered in security; he was the captain of the first Starfleet starship, after all. He wasn't reckless either, but sometimes in order to win, certain stakes were necessary. This time, however, he wasn't sure if the stakes weren't climbing a little too high: with every moment he grew more aware that he had to reach Trip and pull him back, because Enterprise couldn't afford such loss and he wasn't ready to accept it either.

He dragged himself to bed. "What should I do?" the thought kept spinning around in his head in tiring speed and echoing: _WhatWhatWhat_ _the hell should I do_.

Archer rubbed his eyes hard until blue rings were swimming in his vision, then he forcefully closed them, but as soon as he did, he knew it was futile – his heart pumping wildly mixing with the illusionary sound of his brain going into overdrive. His entire being felt like a string strung twice its size and played continuously in wild staccato. All bits of information from previous days were sliding on the surface of his conscience as if looking for a small space to worm in into his saturated mind.

Archer growled and massaged his eyes again. Porthos whined sadly and jumped up on the bed, where he laid his head on his master's chest, staring at him with large compassionate eyes. Archer sighed and patted the small pet gently.

His communicator beeped as a ship—wide announcement by Reed came through.

"Armed security teams to Launch bay and Engineering." Archer sat up on his bed making Porthos jump off with a nervous growl.

Damn it, what was going on? Reed wasn't even on duty and why was there a ship-wide call for security teams? Archer reached out to contact his security officer, when his door chime rang. He opened expecting Reed to march in and inform him about the alarm, what he certainly did not expect was finding himself face off with Trip Tucker, who without any explanation slipped by Archer into the cabin.

Archer spun around and reached out to catch the intruder, but Tucker easily slid out of his reach to the other side of the cabin and turned to him. Archer moved a little into the room eyeing the other man cautiously: Tucker was dressed in a white long-sleeved shirt, Sickbay trousers and was barefoot as if he just ran away from Sickbay, what explained why the whole Security team was on its feet and attempting to control all ways off the ship and protect the most sensitive systems, Archer quickly concluded.

It seemed to Archer that Tucker had come to some conclusions on his own, because he was staring at him unusually sharply with a mischievous glint. Archer frowned, although he was on the other side of the quarters, suddenly it didn't seem far enough.

"Yes, Commander?" he asked, but the only indication that Tucker had heard the question was a slight simper.

Archer straightened up, "Have you thought about returning?" he sounded deliberately strict, but Tucker only blinked shortly at the tone and gazed back with unwavering intensity. Then, very slowly Tucker straightened pulling his muscles lazily, Archer instinctively coiled slightly, unsure what would follow, but before he could even as much as raise his hand, Tucker moved in a flash, with three long strides crossed the space between them and stopped in Archer's personal space. With subconscious speed Archer's hands shot up to fend off the intruder, he caught both Tucker's wrists in his hands, but to his surprise, Tucker made no move to free his arms, he just stood there and stared into Archer's eyes with his wrists captured in Archer's grasp. They were standing so close that Archer could feel Tucker's hot breath on his neck.

"What do _you_ want? Should I stay? Or go?" Tucker drawled deeply.

Archer tightened his hold on the wrists in confusion at the sudden turn. "I…think you'll see many things differently later."

"Do you want that…?" Tucker leaned forward and breathed into Archer's ear, "Jonathan?" Archer was sure that by now Tucker's arms must be bruised, but Tucker's voice traveling down his spine made him tighten the hold even more. He wanted to move away or let loose, but his muscles were frozen in shock. "I want my engineer back," he breathed out hoarsely.

"Where, back?" Tucker smirked into his ear and with clarity absolutely unsuited for the situation Archer realized that their chests were briefly touching with every breath.

"Trip," Archer started, somehow the name didn't seem appropriate, "this is a mistake," he breathed out, then he jerked when as a response a slick and hot tongue briefly passed over his earlobe electrifyingly.

"You think so?"

Tucker's alluring masculine scent was invading his nostrils and making him quickly drown in sensations.

"You're watching me, Jonathan, I can tell." The hot tongue passed over his earlobe again accompanied by stinging biting. Archer's lightheaded mind spun, then his eyes fell on Tucker's long neck and a fading love-bite prominently shining on it – Archer shivered as a cold rush of reality cleared his mind; he let go off Tucker's wrists, grabbed the other man by shoulders and pushed him back firmly.

For a moment Tucker appeared confused, but when he grasped what was going on, his eyebrows rose cynically. It was such a Trip-like gesture accompanying such Trip-unlike personality that it came like a blow. Another second passed and they were staring at each other motionlessly.

Then all of a sudden a security password overrode the codes of Archer's quarters, the doors opened and Malcolm Reed closely followed by two other armed security members barged in immediately assessing the situation.

"Sir, are you all right?" Reed asked standing a little away with his phaser trained at Tucker.

Despite that Archer still felt Tucker's eyes on him, in the presence of the others he felt like he could finally breathe freely again. He moved towards his armory officer. "I am fine. Nothing happened. Please, escort Commander Tucker back to Sickbay." He realized his voice sounded somewhat strained, and Reed must have noticed too for he was eyeing him curiously.

Tucker growled and Reed's hand around the phaser tensed, but the commander merely turned towards Archer and snarled, "Khari, only Khari to you." After that he woodenly walked over to Reed, who was cautiously watching him.

Before they left his quarters, Reed sent back one last checking stare. Seeing this, Archer smiled a little awkwardly, but it did assure Reed, who prodded Tucker in the direction of Sickbay.

With everyone out of his cabin, Archer retreated back to his quarters, sat down on his bed and ran a hand through his messy hair. He could still smell Tucker's scent on him.

_What do you want? Should I stay? Or go?_

Now the question wasn't relevant anymore, he felt that in a matter of seconds their situation had changed from bad to critical. He couldn't understand why Tucker did what he did, or how was he supposed to react, if there even was a proper response to a clear sexual invitation by a friend, but he knew that his response made everything much worse.

Archer leaned against the wall: the longer he thought about it, the more misery weighted him down. His decision was right, yet why the nausea then?

He passed his both hands through his hair again and then finally prodded his body into action. With mixed feelings, which boarded closely on absolute numbness, he passed into Sickbay.

With dull disappointment he realized that he didn't even register the strange antiseptic smell that lingered there persistently: obviously his visits became way too regular.

Glancing from the working Phlox to averted Tucker laying on a biobed, Archer felt the boulder in his stomach grow heavier.

Phlox turned away from his patient and went over to Archer. "Ah, Captain. I hoped you would come. Lieutenant Reed told me you are well, but I wanted to see for myself."

Despite Archer's weak confirmation that he indeed was not injured, the doctor scanned him with a scanner and only after checking the results he seemed a little more at ease. He indicated to the captain to follow and they went over into the front part of Sickbay.

"I am sorry you were in danger, Captain. When you left the last time, Commander Tucker was inquiring about you. I thought it was a good sign, so we spoke about your friendship for a while. Then I had two patients who were injured in a minor accident in cargo bays. I looked away for a moment and suddenly Commander Tucker wasn't sitting here anymore. I noticed the database on my computer was opened and ship plans were displayed. I feared the commander might attempt to escape or damage the ship, so I alerted Lieutenant Reed."

Archer hmmed thoughtfully. "You did well. I don't think Trip wanted to harm me. Maybe he wanted to escape but with security teams in Launch bay he had his way cut off." It sounded unconvincing even to his own ears. "How is Trip doing now? Is he sedated?"

"No. A sedative wasn't necessary. He wasn't aggressive; however, I am afraid that this situation caused a major setback. Khari is absolutely dominant at the moment."

Archer sighed dejected.

"The matter is even worse. I had already analyzed his blood sample and it seems that filtering of the substance is indeed influenced by his mental state as we predicted. Body is working much faster when proper brain areas are stimulated, for example when the commander is _trying _to remember his connections to the rest of you. Currently, the whole process has slowed to minimum, of course it won't stop entirely, since it's natural, but…" Phlox let the thought unfinished.

Archer balled his fists. "We don't have time for this. Not now."

"Indeed we don't."

"I think I should try speaking with him."

"Yes, you should," Phlox encouraged the reluctant captain.

Archer rose quickly before his resolve could melt away, but standing at the bed he suddenly realized he wasn't sure how to approach the prone figure lying there.

"Trip, I need you to listen to me."

The addressed man didn't move only his shoulders tensed, then he took in a large gulp of breath and he shot out something in the Keiran dialect. Even without the UT Archer could tell it wasn't anything positive for them. It took another moment before the UT picked up the phrase.

_I've told you, only Khari for you! _

Archer clenched his fists as sudden anger flared up in him. "I must leave now, but I will show you something after my shift, whether you want or not." After that he marched out of Sickbay.

_Captain's personal log, supplemental_

_An hour ago Trip came around to my quarters. I am not sure what caused the sudden change in his behavior, but he made a…sexual advance. Of course, I denied. Before the situation could escalate, security came._

_They escorted Trip back to Sickbay. I visited him almost immediately, because I was afraid what impact could the incident have. As expected, it worsened the whole situation considerably. It seems that Phlox was right and Trip's improvement depends on his mental state as well. My refusal caused that he reverted back to Khari and I don't think it will change so soon. Maybe denying his…wish… wasn't a good move. We have 38 hours before Trip is supposed to make his decision._

_I am treading thin ice here; I wonder what Trip will say to a small excursion I am planning for him after the alpha shift. Reed thinks it's a bad idea and it could further endanger the ship, but I don't think it's relevant, after all Trip had seen the blueprints already, if he wanted to destroy Enterprise, he would know how and where. Tomorrow, we will see."_

"Computer, end the log."


	5. Divided we stand

Comments and suggestions are as usually appreciated, this chapter took me very long due to my long stay in Japan, where I had very limited access to the web and also due to the fact that Reed refused to sound like himself....but who wouldn't love him anyway. :)

**Chapter 5**

**Divided we stand**

The alpha shift was still about two hours from over, but Archer was at the end of his patience already; he had tried all things possible and impossible, necessary and unnecessary, simply just about everything to kill some time.

Originally, he had wanted to put his plan into action after the shift, but as much as he disliked admitting it, he was unsettled far more than he let on. No sooner had he finished the thought; he stood in the lift on his way to Sickbay.

"Doctor, I came to pick up Trip," he called on Phlox optimistically.

"Yes, Captain, of course. I told the commander you want to show him something. He doesn't seem very thrilled at the moment, but maybe his curiosity will win out."

Although Phlox tried to add an encouraging smile, it was a little strained; he seemed even relieved to see his patient go.

Archer noted this, but then transferred his whole attention to the reluctantly approaching man. He reached out towards him, but Tucker's disapproving stare froze his hand in midair. Archer let it fall awkwardly, yet he recovered quickly and gently offered.

"Come, I want to show you something…" _Trip_

However, Tucker seemed not to react to his invitation, instead he was looking back defiantly. Archer briefly wondered what he would do in case the other man refused to come, however, then, to his relief, after a second or two the younger man walked out of Sickbay into the lift. Archer quickly followed him before he could make up his mind otherwise.

Standing next to him in uncomfortable silence, Archer figured he would better break the ice. "There is something I think you might enjoy to see…"

His attempt was lame and as expected, Tucker didn't respond to it, instead the moment the lift stopped, he stepped out; yet he remained standing just outside waiting for Archer to lead him trough a small and thick door.

"This is the heart of Enterprise, engineering," Archer informed nervously and felt a stone fall from his heart when Tucker's dispassionate eyes lit up at the sight.

Archer remained standing silently at Tucker's side, switching between looking at his friend's amazed face and the glowing tube of warp engines.

"This is our engine. Currently, Lieutenant Hess is preparing some modifications according to this plan."

He handed Tucker a padd with several schematics and small notes by it. "I'm certain they will work just fine. You've invested months into this project."

Tucker scrolled the text down and indeed on the bottom of the schematics there was his signature, he passed it quickly to return to the schematics.

This time Archer did put a hand on Tucker's shoulder and swelled up victoriously when the man flinched slightly, but didn't move away.

"I thought you might be interested in seeing this. At the moment, Hess is supervising it, but the project is still yours. You want to have a closer look?"

With his hand on his shoulder he guided Tucker to the warp core console and to a crewman working on it.

"How is it going, Rostov?"

The man briefly turned around. "We are beginning to test pressure increase in the injectors. It seems very promising, up till now the commander's calculations were right down to the point," he smiled at Tucker, then turned back and pushed one of the handles higher; suddenly the humming of the core intensified.

Tucker instinctively made a step forward and reached out towards the console; Archer grabbed him protectively and pulled him a step back.

Rostov punched in some other orders again and the hum faded.

"This engine is yours, Trip." Archer held his breath, but the nickname passed unnoticed - Tucker simply stood there floored with his eyes set on the warp-core.

Archer pulled him gently, "We should leave. The tests went good, but the engineers have plenty of work."

It was noticeably true; although no one approached them, crewmembers were hastily walking in all directions with hands full of pads making the whole engineering appear like an anthill before a rain.

At their way back to sickbay Archer kept stealing small side glances at his companion, although he didn't notice any difference, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something about the other man had changed, something was hanging in the air.

When they returned to Sickbay, Phlox had been awaiting them eagerly. He ushered the commander back onto his biobed and immediately engaged several machines to monitor him;

then he returned to the captain, who was standing several feet away.

"Captain, did you achieve what you wanted?"

"Not yet, Phlox."

"You seem very optimistic," the doctor observed.

"We must have faith, Doctor." With those words Archer walked out of Sickbay leaving Phlox with a fond thought that it was good to see a smile at the captain's face again.

~*~*~

It was later when Phlox heard the shifts changing again. The process itself was smooth, but he could always recognize it because of unusual number of people in corridors. After several minutes the steps of crewmen died off.

Phlox had observed that in every shift there was a member or two, who were obsessed with their work. The doctor grinned to himself affectionately: one from the alpha shift was currently occupying one of his beds; and he knew there were several others - Captain Archer certainly fell into this category as well, as it was expected from the captain of the first human starship. Then there was Hoshi: the petite ensign with stunning intellect, who was working even when resting. A simple act of reading a book wasn't the same if it was performed by Hoshi Sato - the text was immediately analyzed, lined up, taken apart and put together again on several levels.

And of course he couldn't forget…

"Lieutenant Reed, can I help you?" Despite being off-duty now, Lieutenant Reed standing at the entrance of Sickbay was almost at attention. At first Phlox wasn't sure if his question was even registered, because Reed was gazing past him in the direction of beds, but then the armory officer asked in typical clipped manner. "I am aware it's quite late, but could I speak with the commander?"

"You can go and try, if he listens, I am afraid he has lapsed."

If it was possible, Reed's withdrawn face became even grimmer. "I've heard."

Phlox hated to unsettle his patients badly, and it seemed that Tucker was a little nervous after his encounter with the captain, yet their time was getting thin: every moment Tucker had been thinking of something related to his former life could become crucial for their success.

Reed went over and sat down on the chair by the bed (Phlox didn't bother to take it away, although he had tripped over it several times already). He began reluctantly speaking; it was a slow but steady murmur. The doctor sighed, secretly wishing for success, and moved away before he could catch anything private that was being said.

* ~*~ *

Correct re-aligning of infrared targeting was vitally important, especially with three Suliban ships on intercept course, Lieutenant Reed was well aware of it while tinkering with it. Of course the presence of their enemy could be coincidental and there wasn't any danger of an upcoming battle, but as much as Reed would love to, he simply couldn't believe it: with all the chances space was offering, he didn't believe in chance: the Suliban were either after the Keiran dilithium, or straight after Enterprise.

By a less balanced man such responsibility could become unsettling, yet it wasn't this problem that had been disturbing Reed's concentration the whole shift.

At the beginning of their voyage, if someone had told Reed he would be more concerned for Commander Tucker than the infrared targeting, he would have personally sent the person for a psychological re-evaluation, or maybe a psychiatric one. The obnoxious, easy-going and seemingly irresponsible engineer was simply too noisy to be liked; Reed hated noise, and more than that he disliked only disarray and commander Tucker could have been a representative example of both.

For a long time it seemed like nothing would sway either man from their paths of mutual professionalism bordering on ignorance. Yet, things did change, quite unexpectedly and radically, but a near-death experience does that to a person – it brings things into perspective, especially with enough time to think about matters, for example in the course of freezing to death.

Strangely enough, Reed was thankful he went through this terrible experience with Commander Trip Tucker. By analyzing the situation for himself, he had to admit that when he had lost all hope back then, Tucker came to help – he was there for him.

Reed didn't doubt that the man was paying him attention at the moment too; due to the dimmed Sickbay lights he couldn't quite make out Tucker's features, but he felt the man's eyes on him, yet he preferred it like this.

"Good evening…" he paused. "Phlox allowed me to visit you."

Tucker didn't respond, only shifted a little.

Although Reed was perplexed by the passivity, he decided that if not his co-operation, Tucker's attention was enough, at least for the start.

Reed had been thinking about this talk his whole shift. More precisely, he was wracking his nerves over what to say, in vain though, after an absolutely unfruitful afternoon he gave up, hoping that he would get some idea eventually.

Now, he was facing the unresponsive Tucker and his mind was just as blank as it had been before. He was aware the silence probably didn't stretch as much as it seemed to him, but he perceived it as oppressive anyway.

"I've come to talk," Reed swallowed heavily, he wasn't used to talking about his feelings. He would have to make an exception this time though, he owed Tucker, a big one.

"I heard that you are convinced you don't want to stay here." Reed cleared his throat, oh how he hated personal talks; valiantly he soldiered on. "Before you make your decision, you should consider it well. Enterprise is a very special ship with a very special crew. "

This was probably the closest he would get to being personal: his monologue was even more difficult than he expected. Why it was so hard to explain your admiration to the ones you esteem?

Reed took a deep breath. "I knew a guy once; actually he was my classmate during the Starfleet training. He impersonated everything you could wish for. In fact, he was so perfect we couldn't breathe near him. Yet from all the trainees he wanted to be friends with me. I've never understood why, but I accepted. And tried, really tried, but after a few weeks I found myself comparing us. In everything, and usually he won."

"Later, he received an offer from a research and development institute, and took it. At first I was relieved, but then I realized what a coward I was. Then I promised myself I'd never be such a coward again. So I had rather tried to keep everyone away, it seemed easier to have no friends than take care of them. But then you almost went out of the airlock only to save me." Reed shuddered at the memory, but continued.

"I was surprised at first, but I take it as a privilege to have such a friend. And even though he is obnoxious and loud, I hope to keep him."

Tucker shifted under his blanket, but otherwise he kept silent, so silent that Reed started to wonder if he wasn't wasting time talking to himself. He didn't expect buoyant displays of friendship, but Tucker's utter passivity was stunning.

He sighed quietly and went over to the front of Sickbay where Phlox was busying himself with a book. When he was passing by, the doctor looked at the indicators over Tucker's bed and smiled at Reed warmly. "Don't worry, lieutenant. I assure you, he had heard you."

Reed smiled thankfully and left, feeling a little better.

Phlox was pleased to see that after his reassurance the Lieutenant relaxed somewhat.

He had heard the low steady murmur of the one-sided conversation between the two men and if he went by the bio-signs on his monitor, then the commander calmed after it too.

Phlox hoped that after this distraction the commander was a little more opened to several ideas to which belonged eating. He had noticed a small thing about the man already before: if there was any kind of problem busying him, Tucker's appetite was the first to leave.

Phlox grabbed a trolley with food and with grim determination wheeled it towards the bed. "Please, Commander." He ignored the refusing stare when he arranged the tray. "The chef sent you dinner. I told him he should prepare something easy to digest, but nutrient." He couldn't not notice Tucker's wayward murmuring; despite it he lifted the lid slightly hoping for the man's natural needs to help out, immediately a soft scent of orange juice and cake tickled their noses.

"Hmmm. It smells good, but of course I can't force you to eat. Maybe to give you something sweet for dinner wasn't such a good idea after all." He put the lid back.

Tucker's eyebrows quirked slightly as he inhaled deeply.

"I will send it back." Phlox was about to take the tray away when Tucker halted him.

"No." The man's stomach growled loudly.

"I see you are interested. That's good. It won't harm you if you put on some weight."

Tucker gave the doctor a measuring look, snarled, but started to eat quickly. Soon the plate was empty and the commander blissfully sank into his pillow again. By taking the utensils away Phlox noted his patient had great difficulty to keep his eyes open - his lids were closing regularly and although he always awoke with a jerk, it was only a question of time when he would succumb.

Eventually the man drifted into sleep; his pressure lowered, his heart slowed down, and his breathing evened into regular deep breaths. Tucker was sleeping extremely motionlessly and soundlessly even for a human; Phlox went over to check the wall diagnostic screen.

The chemistry had improved a little again, but it was still considerably unusual.

At least the commander wasn't scratching anymore. As an afterthought Phlox automatically checked the bandages on Tucker's forearms, finding them in a quite satisfactory state: the edges were strapping a little, obviously the commander didn't quite get over his habit of picking on them, but the scratches underneath were undisturbed.

Phlox looked at the blood tests details; the process of decontaminating Tucker's system after the setback proceeded much slower than they had anticipated. They needed much more time than they were offered.

Phlox considered his patient: Tucker was sleeping on his side; his unusually longer and darker hair was sticking in all directions. His bare right foot was provocatively sticking out from under the covers and Phlox repressed the urge to cover it immediately. After all, the commander didn't have flu, but a problem with his brain chemistry.

After another check of the bio monitor the doctor resolutely returned to the front of Sickbay and sat down to his computer. He guiltily looked back at the commander and then with renewed fervor began shifting through available computer data; he had much to do.

~*~*~

When his door chime chirped, Archer stuck out his head out of his bathroom. He didn't expect anyone because his shift was about to begin in twenty minutes.

"Yes, come in."

He was even more surprised when his Vulcan science officer entered.

"Good morning, T'Pol. What is on your mind that couldn't wait until the start of the shift?" Archer realized he sounded unprofessionally, but since Vulcans didn't have any feelings that could have been hurt, T'Pol passed his words without comments, her eyebrow went just a millimeter higher than usually, but that was everything.

"I come to inform you the Suliban increased their speed and will come eight hours sooner. It is essential that Commander Tucker makes his decision."

"He hasn't said anything yet, but I am afraid he has already made it." Archer didn't even attempt to hide his bitterness.

"We still have approximately ten hours. I am sure the commander will re-evaluate his decision after the chemicals filtered out of his system and his brain established stability."

"T'Pol, I am stunned. Was that consolation?" He couldn't hide a small tight grin.

T'Pol's mobile eyebrows nearly made contact with her hairline. "No. I was merely offering a logical solution to his situation." She sounded almost offended.

"Trip's behavior so far was always less than logical."

"I concur. Yet Vulcan philosophers believe that even seemingly illogical chaos has its own logical principles. It seems illogical only until you grasp them."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Commander Tucker has a lot of pleasure in his friendship with you and in his work. It seems improbable he would exchange these for a life on a desert-like planet."

"You forget that Sorro is down there." A small hint of disdain in his voice caused her eyebrows climb up again.

"You want to know something Hoshi told me?" Before she got to retort he continued, responding to his own rhetorical question. "Sorro named Trip Khari. It means beloved. I think that says a lot."

"Yes. It seemed logical to conclude the commander and Sorro became more intimate. Yet that doesn't change anything on the current situation. It is clear that during his stay on Keira II. the commander wasn't quite himself."

"I know. He isn't quite himself now either."

"Obviously the commander is still confused."

Archer frowned deeply, frustrated: T'Pol's opinion was seemingly the same as his, yet he sensed that she was trying to tell him something, only he was too dense to grasp it. "You believe Trip loves Sorro only because the alien saved his life, and he isn't considering that Sorro manipulated him? That's impossible." He resolutely shook his head. "Trip's far too smart for that."

"Although I believe the matters are more complicated, I have to remind you that the level of intelligence has only very little in common with emotions."

Archer snapped. "I do know the difference between IQ and EQ. Trip has too much of both."

"And a good deal of stubbornness too," she concluded dryly.

Archer looked up sharply. T'Pol's face was impassively Vulcan, yet her irony was very human.

"I recommend solving this situation as soon possible, Captain. In ten hours we must leave this system. Either with Commander Tucker or without him."

Archer jerked. He pressed his lips together so he didn't snap at her. He studied T'Pol intently, but she didn't move a single muscle, accepting his open scrutiny.

Finally he pushed between his teeth. "Let's hope it would be rather with him."

"It is pointless to discuss this at the moment. I will see you on the bridge, Captain."

She left him alone and he was thankful for that, because he needed some time to collect his cool demeanor unless he wanted to chew out some innocent ensign on duty.

The worst part was that T'Pol's logic, though it appeared somewhat crooked, was still perfectly flawless, as usual. But their situation was far from being logical and they had merely hours to solve it. And Trip was, as far as he knew, still in his lapse.

Archer suspected large part in the recovery played Tucker's stubbornness and that was a power to be reckoned with. Under normal circumstances it would have been an asset, yet this time, unfortunately, it was working against them.

Now, in Sickbay they had hardly Commander Charles Tucker III., far less Trip.

"Phlox to Captain Archer." Archer jerked at the sense of _deja vu_. Was it only his imagination or the Denobulan's voice sounded much darker than usually?

"Archer here."

"Can you please come to sickbay; I have a suggestion for you."

"Be there in a minute."

Archer made his last words almost true to the dot because in about five seconds the crewmembers who were walking near sickbay could witness Captain Archer running down the corridors.

Now the captain could see for himself that Phlox not only sounded dark, but his mood was grave too. "Yes, Doctor?"

"I wanted to inform you that Commander Tucker's state improved a little after a visit by Lieutenant Reed, but the change is not that considerable." The doctor paused, pensively gazing at the captain, then he continued decisively. "I understand that our time is growing extremely thin and therefore I have a suggestion for you." He offered Archer a padd he was holding.

Archer scanned it quickly and paled a little. When he handed it back, his voice was steady, though colorless. "You cannot be serious!"

"I assure you, Captain, it's only a temporary measure."


	6. Desperate measures

I am not absolutely happy with this chapter, but I couldn't define what is bothering me, so I am giving it into the open. I hope you enjoy it, constructive criticism is always more than welcome. :)

**Chapter 6 **

**Desperate measures**

The time shouldn't have been closing in, at least not according to what they had told him, yet he could tell from their strained faces that something was going on, something that might bring him back to Sorro again.

With a pang in his chest he realized it meant to give up Enterprise and all things he wanted to explore. He had to admit that not only the ship was unique, but also its crew, for example constantly patient Doctor Phlox or Lieutenant Reed with his seemingly ever-present composure.

And of course then there was the captain, a very interesting man indeed.

Tucker subconsciously licked his lips at the remembrance of the man.

Could he ever become happy here, even if he gave up his life with Sorro?

When he was on Keira, he dreamt of glowing warp engines; when he was here, he kept thinking of Sorro...

The doors hissed, but he didn't turn to see who was coming - it meant to loose the few moments he still had, because he was as sure as if somebody had told him that his time to decide arrived.

He looked up to see the captain, Phlox and Reed at his bed.

Unsurprisingly it was Archer who spoke up. "Commander, I am afraid we can't keep orbiting Keira any longer. We will leave as soon as you make your decision whether you stay here or return."

Tucker looked at the tense group sadly: despite their hopes he couldn't be the man Archer wanted him to become, he wasn't their commander anymore.

"I decided to return to Keira and live there," he said simply. Although his decision had been unwavering the whole time, they appeared to be surprised nonetheless.

He was about to step forward when he noticed a suspicious exchange of glances between them and he realized he couldn't see the door through the wall of their bodies anymore, all there was were their grim eyes.

Suddenly Doctor Phlox stepped forward. "I am afraid, Commander that your judgment is influenced by a high concentration of a conscience altering drug, therefore I deem you not fit to make any decisions. Until your body has cleared the drug and its influence you cannot be held responsible for yourself."

"You can't do this!" Tucker screamed, his disbelief quickly replaced by hot fury.

"I am one of the few who can," the doctor interjected decisively.

Tucker leaped at the group to fight his way to the door, but several pairs of hands caught him firmly.

Over his enraged roar he heard Phlox' dry declaration, "Unfortunately, the patient is aggressive; I must sedate him to prevent him from causing harm." It was followed by a cold brief sting of a hypospray against his neck. It was a set-up! Tucker thought before his vision went blank.

*~*~*

When Tucker went limp in their hands, Archer and Reed lifted him on the biobed, while Phlox hurriedly checked his patient's vitals.

"I hoped it wouldn't go that far," Phlox murmured into heavy silence that settled over them.

"Yeah," Archer confirmed darkly, gazing down at the unconscious man. Then he woke up from his stupor with a jerk. "Archer to Mayweather; take us away, warp 3."

Almost instantly they recognized increased hum of warp engines and Archer felt relief sweep over him.

"How long will Trip be out?"

Phlox switched off his scanner. "At least another two hours."

"Inform me when he is about to come around. I want to be here when he wakes up."

"Certainly, Captain, I will call you."

So he got two hours before he could harvest what he had just sawn, Archer thought heavily. He had expected that Tucker would be agitated, he could only imagine what his reaction will be once he woke up, especially considering the fact that unlike Tucker, Khari certainly wouldn't feel any inhibitions to let his temper go - this could be his last opportunity to eat something solid in peace even for a few days.

He turned to the armory officer at his side. "Lieutenant, care to have early lunch with me?"

Although Reed appeared a little surprised by the suggestion, he agreed and soon they sat in captain's mess.

When Archer proposed their lunch together, he had really hoped to eat, but when their trays were brought, it was clear that neither of them was up to it. Reed was probably in a similar state of mind, because after a few pokes into his food he pushed it away and wiped his mouth. "It is good we left the orbit. It wouldn't be very fortunate to get into a conflict with the Suliban without anyone to repair our systems afterwards." Reed remarked succinctly.

Archer pushed his tray away too. "Phlox told me you had visited Trip yesterday."

Reed blinked briefly surprised at the sudden change of topic, then he answered evasively. "Yes. I spoke to him briefly after my shift."

"It seemed to work though, his chemistry had improved afterwards."

Reed shrugged stiffly not rising to the bait, so Archer continued. "It's a small miracle; he doesn't seem to listen to anyone."

"I'm surprised to hear he was listening at all."

"Obviously you had something interesting to say."

Archer was aware that his remarks were way beyond politeness and judging by Reed's expression it was time for a tactical retreat, so he concluded conciliatorily. "I hope he would listen when he wakes up too."

"He would be mad, I'm sure. But as long as he throws only fits…" Reed agreed sympathetically.

Archer grimaced. "I guess that's a way to look at it too."

*~*~*

After excruciating two hours Archer received the awaited call from Sickbay.

"Right on time, Captain." Phlox led him to Tucker who was just coming around.

In the past, Archer had plenty opportunities to watch Tucker wake – during their survival training in Australia, after long night in bars, even in hospitals, but he didn't remember any other time when he watched so anxiously.

Tucker grunted; then he briefly opened his eyes, and sat up slowly.

"This may take a minute or two, Captain," Phlox assured him quickly.

Sitting Tucker swayed unsteadily, before Archer could say anything; he lay down again and closed his eyes. Nevertheless after a few seconds he opened them again and this time they were much more lucid. When he took in the captain hovering next to the bed, his eyes gleamed with anger.

"Trip…"

Tucker sat up quickly and only Phlox' warning glance towards hyposprays prevented him from lunging at the larger man. Instead, he pushed out between clenched teeth. "_Don't_ call me_ that_." He gripped the hem of his cover tightly. "I don't have any relevant information and don't see why you imprisoned me on this ship."

"Trip, you are not a prisoner."

Tucker jerked and shouted. "No? How does it look to you? I'm here against my will! You sedated me and threaten me with a hypospray! I think that classifies me as prisoner!"

"It's only a temporary measure."

"So you can lock me up in my quarters or better, in the brig?"

"I hope neither of that would be necessary."

"Then I advise you to re-evaluate your decision NOW!"

Face off with the angry man Archer fought to keep hold on his wild emotions, he took a deep breath and abruptly strode out of Sickbay.

Once outside he checked the hall to see that he was alone, only then he allowed himself to rest his brow against the cold corridor wall trying to control the tightness that had suddenly befallen his insides.

He had always believed that every problem had a sensible solution, but lately all his decisions seemed to turn into mistakes. Was there still a way to solve the rising number of issues between him and Tucker?

Before he could finish the pessimistic thought opening Sickbay doors made him bolt away from the wall automatically.

"Captain, I hoped to catch you. I understand that you are upset by Mister Tucker's response," Phlox standing next to him frowned sympathetically, "but please, be patient and try to understand. Mister Tucker is going through a very difficult phase himself."

Archer sighed. "I understand that. But everything I do seems to be wrong and he doesn't make it easy either."

Phlox folded his hands behind the back. "He indeed does not; yet I have to ask you again, don't give up on him yet."

Archer's head snapped up. "I have no such intention. He's my best friend." Both of them were surprised at the vehemence.

"Very good. I was worried Mister Tucker's behavior could repel you."

"No!" Archer said confidently. He wanted to smile reassuringly, but it came out like a wince, he rested his brow against the wall again. "No. I just need to breathe it out."

After a while he straightened up again. "What are the protocols now, when Trip is…?" "I'd say our situation is quite unprecedented, so we have to deal with it by ourselves. I suggest that Mister Tucker is permanently under supervision, at least for the time of being. This precaution is for his own security, as well as ours. We can't ignore the possibility that he may attempt something unreasonable only to stop us from taking him away."

Archer nodded mutely, too taken aback by the turn of their conversation, which seemed more surreal with every word - they were talking about Trip after all, he wasn't a threat, or was he?

"So you think Trip's dangerous?"

"He's angry now and I think it will get worse before it can get better."

"Are you sure to let him out is safe?" Archer trusted Phlox absolutely, but he worried anyway.

"From what I can judge, the purging process might take some time; I can't hold him in Sickbay that long unless I shackle him to the bedpost."

"He spent eight weeks with one man in a room half this size."

Phlox ignored the bitter remark. "When do you plan to ask him about his decision again?"

Archer looked away with a frown.

"Thought as much. If you want Commander Tucker to stay here, we must start to build a new connection with him as soon as possible."

"Can't you just sedate him until he's OK?" At Phlox' angry look Archer immediately regretted the question.

"No, as long as the alien drug is in his blood, I cannot sedate him. His chemistry is a mess to begin with, not to mention it could be dangerous. There are so many elements involved that we can't predict safely how they possibly might interact."

"You've already sedated him once."

"Yes, and it was risky and it altered his chemistry for worse. At the moment I believe he is stable enough to even go out of Sickbay, accompanied of course. But unless his system is absolutely clear, it is not advisable to administer anything, not even a painkiller."

Archer itched to ask why exactly painkillers came to the doctor's mind, but then decided to let it rest. He felt that he could live with small ignorance, just this time.


	7. Collision course

Author's note: Again, a long wait...this chapter was difficult, my poor beta reader spent hours on it, re-reading it 4 times, I can't thank her enough, I won't even tell her that the next once is double size of this one and even more difficult. I hope that you will find it entertaining, constructive criticism is always cherished, comments are loved. :)

**Chapter 7 **

**Collision course**

Lieutenant Reed was definitely one of the Starfleet's finest, otherwise he wouldn't have earned his job of Security chief that included many important tasks, though, babysitting an errand crewmember was certainly not one of them. Yet, when the captain asked him to assign somebody to Charles Tucker, Reed put on the task the best man on board – himself.

As expected, Tucker was less than thrilled that someone was constantly on his heels, but poking into other people's business was practically the description of Reed's work: thick skin was an essentiality, not a choice. In the time he spent with Tucker today, he could observe a whole emotional spectrum aimed at his persona (tending rather towards the negative side). Tough luck mate, no way of getting rid of me, Reed smirked to himself.

It could have been worse, though, at least Tucker wasn't downright insufferable as in the captain's case. There was no need for a keen observation talent to notice the hostility towards Archer, which was working wonders, because the former best friends spent close to no time with each other. It seemed that the blow Khari had dealt to their friendship was so hard that there weren't even shards to pick up.l

With one eye still on Tucker, Reed opened the fridge and briefly studied the lined-up dishes; finally he opted for spaghetti and was about to move to a table when he noticed Tucker gazing at the meals doubtfully.

"Can I help you?" he tried to sound neutral, since he could never be too sure what set the man off; luckily, Tucker seemed to be in one of his brighter moods at the moment.

"Only if you know my food preferences."

"I know you like pan-fried catfish and pecan pie," Reed glanced into the fridge. "Aren't on today it seems, then I suggest you take prime rib with broccoli. I think you mentioned it before."

Tucker frowned at the appointed meal with distrust, but then took it. They heated it and found themselves a free table a little on the side.

To Reed it was an unusual experience to sit with the other man in complete silence. It seemed that Khari didn't share Trip Tucker's need to talk about his inner struggles. The constant chattering used to drive Reed crazy, but now he realized that silent Tucker was maybe even worse - it dismayed him how unreadable the man could be; was Khari the real Tucker hiding underneath the shine of amiable southern persona?

"Sulibans look like broccoli."

Reed's head snapped to his friend, who was poking into the vegetables, oblivious to what had just escaped his lips.

"It isn't so bad. You were right, I think I like broccoli."

Tucker briefly glanced at Reed and then gazing back at his food he mumbled, "You're staring. Everyone is." Reed flinched, it sounded self-conscious, but when he glanced around, he noticed that people were indeed watching them.

"They do this all the time."

"Maybe it's because they heard you mention the Suliban."

The sentence had an immediate effect: Tucker's thoughtful face contorted to openly hostile.

"I didn't."

Reed hardly suppressed the urge to retort 'oh yes, you did', if Tucker wanted to deny his words, they could keep it under the lid, at least for the moment.

Tucker demonstratively began eating again, but Reed noticed that his posture became strained.

"Are you alright?"

"You know. You don't have to try making a conversation with me just because the captain ordered you to stay on my heels so I don't blast this ship into oblivion," Tucker snarled slicing into his food fervently.

"I am not here because the captain ordered me so," Reed defended himself immediately.

"You know, the friendship stuff is crap: you dragged me away from Sorro, shot me in the back and practically shackled me on this ship. Kinda messes with the perspective, don't you think? If I am your friend, why don't you respect my wish to leave? _Let me go!_" Tucker leaned forward with his eyes shining feverishly; he looked like a madman possessed by a single idea. Maybe he even was, Reed thought. The attempt at manipulation was quite poor, but Tucker's madness was strangely magnetic.

Reed leaned into his chair, gazing at Tucker squarely.

"You're staying here," he declared firmly. For a second he thought the dishes would go flying, but after another tense moment Tucker settled back and resumed eating. Between the bites he smirked nonchalantly: "You know I had to try."

Reed nodded numbly, in a way he did understand.

They finished their lunch in silence.

"So, any plans for now?"

"With almost the whole ship restricted to me, not many choices," Tucker mumbled dispassionately.

"How about a look at your quarters then?" Reed offered hopefully. "We've got plenty of time before your check up at 1900."

Tucker shrugged, "Or we could always pay a visit to Engineering," he riled, but there was no heat behind it.

"I think the captain could have a word or two against it," Reed countered lightly, but to his surprise Tucker jerked visibly.

Reed casually greeted a fellow co-worker from Armory walking by, but he was watching Tucker with eagle eyes: before, he was only guessing, but now he was absolutely convinced that something happened between the captain and Tucker and it was definitely more than the occurrences on Keira - it was something important, even deciding in their situation, something the captain didn't mention, and obviously Tucker wasn't keen on it either.

For such a loud person, he could hold his cards close to his chest pretty well, and he was also very purposeful: even now in moments, when he thought nobody was paying him attention, Tucker kept stealing glances around the ship, mapping it, no doubt. Reed smirked to himself; Tucker wasn't the only one who could keep a few aces up his sleeve.

"These are my quarters. I'd like to leave here my padds if you don't mind."

After Tucker only nodded mutely, Reed inserted his codes and the door slid apart.

"How do we get into my quarters when I don't know the codes?"

"As a security chief I can override all codes with my security pass."

"I see. That's why you are stuck with me, I am a threat."

Reed rolled his eyes, and didn't dignify the comment with a response. Instead he indicated Tucker to follow him. "The quarters are a little small, but we don't spend here much time anyway. Have a seat. I'll need a moment."

Tucker sat down at the only chair by a spotlessly clean table. The quarters very really small - barely enough to live remotely comfortably: a bed, a short bookcase filled with different books (aligned by height), a closet, and some shelves.

Reed opened a drawer and picked up come clothes, then with a meaningful look over his shoulder he slipped into the bathroom.

"I thought you are still in duty."

Reed sighed and mumbled. "I am."

"So _I am _your duty."

Quickly finishing dressing and checking his attire, Reed emerged. "If you really feel like hearing it, you are a bothersome, sharp pain in the arse."

Unexpectedly, after gazing a moment at him mutely, Tucker chuckled. "So I am not made of glass?"

Surprised by the brief moment when Trip Tucker shone through, Reed laughed, "I know you won't break, you're tough as nails."

"Tough as nails?" Tucker wondered.

"Isn't it what the captain always said?" The moment Reed finished the sentence, Tucker's face reddened and changed into a hateful.

"I am prepared. If you are too, we can go to your quarters," Reed said quickly in order to avoid another emotional explosion. The topic change came so unexpectedly that Tucker blinked in surprise, his angry thoughts momentarily forgotten; nevertheless as expected, on their way to the commander's quarters Tucker readily resumed his previous mutinous attitude, which was upsetting Reed's stomach.

After a few tense moments spent in a confined lift they stood in front of Tucker's quarters blocked by a device attached to the doors.

"This is a seal," Reed explained. "Only I and the captain have the protocols to override it."

First he punched codes into the seal and when he removed it he broke all remaining barriers with his security pass: the doors swooshed open and Reed stepped aside, inviting Tucker to go first – after all, even though Khari insisted otherwise, technically it were his quarters.

Tucker hesitated at first, but then entered quietly looking around.

The quarters were equally small like Reed's, but not so neat. Otherwise they were the same with hygiene facilities, a small bookcase and a closet. On the working table, there were prominently displayed several framed photos and then many pads stacked messily on each other apparently still awaiting attention.

"I don't remember your table ever being clean." Reed remarked lightly, but he could feel the tension within the room growing.

"I guess not," Tucker responded thoughtfully and picked up one of the photos standing on a prominent place.

Reed glanced over it, he had seen similar one in the captain's quarters. "That's you and Captain Archer after testing the beta ship model."

Tucker put the frame back in short irritated moves.

Reed realized the other man didn't seem to be feeling very well. "Are you all right? You seem a little pale."

"Just a small headache," Tucker admitted evasively, but before he realized the motion, his hand briefly touched his temple.

"Maybe you should go to Phlox."

"I said it's only a headache," Tucker growled through his clenched teeth belying his previous gesture.

Reed looked at the other man and decided to drop the theme. Unless Tucker's condition worsened considerably, the only way to get him to Sickbay was to drag him there, kicking and screaming most likely. As long as Tucker was conscious, Sickbay was definitely out of options.

Changing the topic yet again, Reed gestured to all other framed photos. "You have many shots in datapadds; you are sending them home to your family." Without waiting for Tucker's reaction to this rather forceful directing, Reed switched on the computer and found other photos stored in it. "These were taken on the first Minshara class planet we visited - that means suitable for humanoid life."

The photo must have been taken shortly after the landing, because later there was no reason for such bright smiles at all. Reed wasn't a member of the landing party, but read all reports after the captain had asked him to design a protocol for visiting new planets.

Tucker gazed blankly at the photo for another minute, seemingly not interested to flip over to another one, but Reed was anything if not patient. He settled behind the man just observing him unobtrusively: Taking his time to study the screen, Tucker leaned a little closer and a moment later yet a little closer, until he was resting with one elbow on the table and staring at the screen intently, when after what seemed like an eternity passed, he flipped to another picture and Reed rejoiced internally.

As if Tucker felt it though, he suddenly straightened up with hands slowly gliding from the table into his lap and turned away from the screen. "I don't feel comfortable here," he said, but Reed didn't rise to the bait. "So where would you like to go?" he asked patiently.

"I guess launch bay is not an option." Once again Reed managed to ignore the provocative comment - it was getting a little repetitive already. "We have here many places to watch the stars," he offered half-heartedly; therefore he was surprised when Tucker nodded affirmatively, it would be far-fetched to call his answer interested, but at least it was a response. Tucker probably realized too that they couldn't sit opposite each other and stare the whole time. Reed smirked – they could try it though, when he played with his childhood friends, he was always the last to blink.

"Wait, before you go, change your entry codes."

Tucker half-turned already standing at the door. "I don't plan to make this a long-term stay."

Reed shrugged. "Change them anyway." He prepared the computer and asked Tucker to enter his new codes and confirm them.

"This is pointless. Archer and you can come in any time you want anyway," Tucker grumbled his breath, but punched his codes in obediently.

"And the doctor."

"Excuse me?"

"Phlox can override the codes too."

"Why bother then? Well, I'm finished," Tucker announced with a heavy sigh, ready to leave.

"Now when I think of it, there is also a literature club meeting today. I think they are reading Shakespeare," Reed tried to lift the mood, but when Tucker cynically lifted his eyebrows at the suggestion, he mumbled. "I see, literature isn't your cup of tea, watching stars is it then," and led them towards one of more secluded observation decks Although there wasn't anything interesting ahead to study, not even a white dwarf for at least a day, the stars were always beautiful. The deck was, just like Reed expected, deserted; there was nobody to watch stars sliding behind the large windows in white stripes.

Tucker settled at the most remote point from him and although Reed understood the notion of personal space probably better than anyone else, it was a little insulting nevertheless. Maybe it would even come to that blinking game, he thought with grim amusement.

With a careful side-glance he seized the other man. Due to dimmed lights lines in Tucker's face appeared deep, making him worn and ghostly.

Reed had heard that Tucker had sustained an injury on the planet and although the man didn't seem to be bothered, Reed felt he couldn't trust him concerning his well-being entirely.

"Could we lower the lights?"

Tucker's voice almost startled him, he nodded mutely and soon the deck swam in gloomy shadows; he could only barely make out Tucker sitting on the chair now, with his head tilted back in a very uncomfortable position.

* ~*~ *

"In five minutes you should be in Sickbay for your check."

The whole long hours in their loneliness Tucker had not said a word, he didn't break the silence now either and Reed briefly wondered if the man heard him at all. He sensed that despite the long stillness that had stretched between them, the whole time Tucker was wearily waiting for something.

"Come." Reed ordered and slowly let the lights come to their standard brightness, blinking a few times blindly. Tucker seemed to look around even more owlishly, his eyes were sunken and dark from exhaustion, despite the rest he just had, and he presented such a pitiful sight, that Reed was quite relieved that their next steps were leading to Sickbay.

When they entered Phlox' dominion, the lights were on, but the doctor was nowhere to be seen. Tucker dragged himself to a chair and heavily sat down, while Reed searched for any indication where the doctor was.

"Doctor Phlox?" he called out, but the only response was shrieking of Phlox' pets. Tucker jerked annoyed and pinched the bridge of his nose obviously plagued by a headache.

"Strange, he knows your check is due." Although Reed was talking more to himself, Tucker shrugged with shoulders carelessly.

Reed finally decided to comm. "Reed to doctor Phlox."

"Phlox here."

"Doctor, I and Commander Tucker are waiting in Sickbay for the evening check."

There was a short pause on the other end. "I am tending Ensign Polak. It should take only a few minutes. Wait, please."

"Of course. Reed over."

No sooner he closed the communication the doors swooshed open and Reed turned expectantly, but it was not Phlox who entered, but the captain.

"I will take over for the moment, you can go," he dismissed him softly right as he entered. Reed hesitated for a second when he caught Tucker's sharp glare, but then he noted Archer's solemn expression and gave in to the request, leaving the two men alone.

*~*~*

Archer waited until they were alone, then he unhurriedly entered the common space. With unnerving slowness he sat down at Phlox' table, his face appeared serene and full of hardly-gained, but now unshakeable patience.

When Tucker remained mutinously silent, the Captain started in a soft tone. "I was worried."

"Why, your time is getting slim? Why the worry, by the time you even ask me again whether I want to return, we will be too far from Keira anyway!"

Archer flinched slightly at the outburst, but quickly restored his passive blankness again. "According to your previous results, the substance should be completely out of your system in about twelve hours. We will see then," he tried to reconcile, but to seething Tucker Archer's cool resolve was riling. He took a deep breath to pour out more of his anger when the gulp of air halted in this throat as a mix of flashing images hit his brain. Their intensity overwhelmed his senses: with lack of oxygen gnawing at his lungs his mind spiraled as quickly as the images in his head and he heard a lout thud. He felt his stomach turn but never knew if he vomited or not...

*~*~*

When Tucker came back to himself, he was kneeling and his shaking arms were only barely supporting his trembling body; sweat and tears were burning his eyes so he could see only contorted shapes.

He realized that there was a soothing hand drawing small reassuring circles on his back. Through the wild hammering of his heart in his ears he could hear pain-filled whimpers and only a moment later he realized it was actually his own voice.

"….take your time, breathe slowly, in and out, in and out," Archer's soothing voice penetrated the white haze surrounding him.

A few deep breaths later his arms stopped shaking so much and despite feeling a little dizzy, he tried to push himself up. The hand on his back stopped its movement as Archer tensed.

"I am OK," Tucker mumbled, glad that his voice sounded stronger than he felt.

The captain withdrew his hand. "It didn't seem OK to me."

A disturbed voice interrupted them. "What is going on here?"

They both turned to Phlox, who marched into Sickbay and caught pale Tucker under his arm to support him.

"He had an incident," Archer tried to supply necessary details, while Phlox ushered his patient on a biobed and started scanning him.

"What kind of incident?" Phlox inquired analyzing the first scan results.

"He went to his knees, started to sweat and was breathing heavily."

"Do you mind? I am here and can speak for myself," Tucker, whose color improved vastly after he sat down, growled.

"Yes. I would like to hear your recollection too."

Tucker halted: he felt uncomfortable having people speak about him in his presence, yet their straight attention was probably worse.

"So what happened to you then?"

"I was arguing with the captain,"

Phlox gave Archer an angry look. "I see. Please, continue."

"I was arguing with him when suddenly I was assaulted by a great number of jumbled images. They were projecting really fast and I couldn't control it."

"Interesting. Did you recognize any of them?"

Tucker shook his head. "Think most of them were mixed memories or something."

"How long did it last?"

Tucker thought for a while, but when shrugged uncertainly, Archer came to help. "It could have been a minute, but he needed another two or three to pull together."

Phlox finished the last steps of his diagnostics and entered them into a padd.

"Gentlemen, I believe Mister Tucker described the incident very accurately. I've checked the drug in his system and the levels sank unexpectedly quickly. It's almost gone; soon his brain will return back to normal. However, the sudden change combined with physical and emotional stress was a little too much at once. I think your incident could be compared to the REM sleep phase; the brain was trying to sort out acquired pieces of information, but got a little overwhelmed. There is no physical damage though and there are no signs it posed any danger."

"How long would this sorting last?" Archer beat Tucker in asking.

"I can't say precisely, few hours maybe. In about 24 hours Mister Tucker's brain chemistry should return to normal and there shouldn't appear any similar incidents or other instabilities."

Different reactions of both men to these revelations were stunning. While Archer seemed relieved, Tucker quizzically curled his mouth and frowned, then he hopped off the bed, but before he could make a step forward, he was halted by Archer's stern stare. "Where do you think you are going?"

"The doctor said it's nothing, so I am going…"

"That's what _you_ think!" Archer wanted to continue, but Phlox interjected before the argument could escalate. "Your condition indeed isn't life-threatening, but please remain here anyway. I'd like to run some tests, which may take some time. No need to grimace, I assure you it would be absolutely painless."

Reluctantly, Tucker climbed up on the bed again.

"Please, make yourself comfortable." Phlox ignored Tucker's half-strangled snort and grabbed Archer by shoulder leading him away. "I will have a quick word with the captain."

Archer didn't need to turn to feel Tucker's untrusting glare in his back. When they got out of the earshot Phlox stopped them. "I noticed you are upset by Mister Tucker's behavior. I assure you, most of it is caused by his unstable brain chemistry."

Archer nodded, but didn't seem convinced.

"Captain, in about two days at most our situation should return to normal, all issues can be addressed then, but at the moment it's pointless. Now, it's late and I am sure that you are tired too, a conversation in the morning would be more sensible. Take some rest too."

Phlox' proposal sounded very tempting and Archer decided it was time to give up. "You'll notify me if anything happens?"

Phlox was relieved to find that at least one of his two human friends was prepared to co-operate. "Of course, Captain. I wouldn't hesitate."

When the slumped Archer departed, Phlox noticed Tucker relaxed slightly, yet remained sitting quite stiffly.

"You can lie down and sleep if you like. I don't need you awake."

Tucker pondered the suggestion a second and then relented and went over to his old biobed in the corner. For a few minutes he fidgeted until he found the right position, then Phlox' footsteps faded into the back of his consciousness as he fell asleep.

*~*~ *

Phlox didn't even notice how fast were hours rushing by because he was absolutely engrossed in studies of the absolutely unique element embodied in Commander Tucker. All at once after a long silence the door hissed. Without turning to look Phlox glanced at the chronometer and chirped, "Good morning, Captain. Please, come in."

Archer joined him by the table. "How did you know it's me?"

The doctor looked away from medical readings he was studying. "Your shift begins in ten minutes."

The captain grinned. "That predictable, huh?"

"Just like a few others. You don't have to keep silent. Mister Tucker doesn't wake so easily."

"So? Any progress?"

"Everything runs just as I expected. About one hour ago the chemicals got out of his system. There are some trace elements that will need a little more time, but they have no effect. I have been checking brain chemistry again and it has been constantly improving, but you shouldn't expect any miracles yet."

With the warning at the end Archer seemed to be at loss whether the news was good or bad. "So what's next?"

"It's difficult to ascertain. The alien substance is almost gone, but the original stability needs to be established, I believe we can expect some unpredictable mood-swings until the system completely reasserts."

"Can we do anything?"

"Offer patience." Phlox caught Archer's pained expression, "This phase should be quickly over," he reassured with a smile.

"Are you releasing Trip into his quarters?" Archer asked hopefully.

Phlox hesitated. "I am not sure if that is wise. I can't guarantee commander's safety unless he is in sickbay."

"I thought you said that he was doing better…"

"Yes, his condition has improved, but brain chemistry is a strange thing; already a small anomaly can result in big changes of behavioral patterns. Think of PMS for example. It's a natural change in hormone levels and yet can cause significant swings in behavior. This case may be something similar, only it's a bigger scale instability."

Despite the grim situation the comparison made Archer chuckle; Tucker seemed to be prone to having women problems—not only did he manage to get himself impregnated before, now he had PMS. Once Trip got better, they would have a good laugh about it.

_Once he got better. _

Archer frowned; his subconsciousness banned the thought that Trip Tucker wouldn't possibly return to his old self; yet _once _seemed too uncertain and far away.

"Are you going to declare him for self-responsible again?" his throat constricted.

Phlox sympathetically grimaced. "I know you are in an uncomfortable position, but you must be patient, Captain. Under these circumstances I have more freedom to help him and keep an eye on him as it is; despite getting better he still isn't entirely himself. We need more time to be sure; otherwise we could endanger both the crew _and_ mister Tucker."

Archer loosely waved towards the sleeping figure on the biobed. "Dangerous? It's Trip!"

"Yes and the bruise on your jaw is his doing, if I may remind you."

Archer winced, Phlox had a point, but he wasn't prepared to let go yet. "He was confused."

"Can you bet the crew's safety on it?" Phlox asked softly.

Archer stepped down defeated; it appeared the whole situation was two strides forward, one leap back. He wished he could do a little more than wait.

Already at its beginning the day was turning sour faster than milk on a sunny day. Archer frowned even deeper, the comparison left acidic aftertaste in his mouth.

After the short, and not very spurring conversation with Phlox he hurried to the bridge, there was very little zeal behind his actions though - in the last nine weeks shifts took the tendency to get unbearably long.

After about an hour into his shift Archer accepted that today's was going to be another one of those terribly dragging ones, when his comm chirped.

"Sickbay to the Bridge." Phlox whimpered.

Archer's stomach contracted to the point of nausea. "Archer here."

"Captain, Commander Tucker attacked me and escaped Sickbay!"

Reed at his post tensed. "When did it happen, Doctor?"

"Probably ten or twenty minutes ago, I was unconscious. Captain, he may be dangerous."

"Start looking for him, security alert…"

Reed interrupted him, "I don't recommend the alert, sir. We don't know the state of his mind, if he gets scared, he could become aggressive."

"I concur, Captain. Mister Tucker is behaving illogically. We have no idea what an alert could trigger," Phlox interjected through the com.

"All right. Send security teams after him. If they find him, they won't interfere. Understood? I want to talk to him first."

By the firm set of Reed's jaw, the Armory officer was about to argue, but Archer's stare stopped the futile effort. He stood up from his chair resolutely,

"Find him, but don't harm him!"


	8. Das Spiegelbild

Author's notes: This chapter was initially inspired by the poem Das Spiegelbild (The Mirror reflection) by Annette von Droste-Hülshoff. It's a very heavy chapter, an emotional rollercoaster even, but I didn't know where to break it off. It hadn't been beta read after the first draft, which was changed considerably, but I hope you can enjoy it at least a bit anyway.Chapter 8 Das Spiegelbild

Tucker sat in darkened quarters slumped and unmoving. Although the computer turned the lights on, he immediately switched them off, feeling that darkness suited his feelings more. He stared at stars swimming in white ribbons in the cold void outside. Some of them had died already, only their light flew through the space as the last reminder of their existence.

He put his cold hands to his hot cheeks.

Their hot energy accumulated in their last breath and then they froze forever.

Tucker closed his eyes and pressed his cold fists against them. Empty void – that didn't sound that bad now; he was already cold inside - he would fit in well. One difference still, he might be cold, but not empty yet.

Everywhere he looked there seemed to be reminders of an unfinished life just waiting to be continued, cut ends that needed to be picked up and bound. And then, then there was his life with Sorro. Two lifes, yet none he could return to. It seemed like the stars weren't the only ones hanging in an empty void. He, too, couldn't go home, because he had no home. Of course he had had one, with Sorro, but that was light-years away. And before Sorro, there _was_ something before Sorro too, but the memory seemed even more distant.

All in the past, past and only past. But there wasn't anything left of him to build any future and every passing moment he felt something inside him dissolving with nothing to replace it. _The man who isn't although he lived twice. _

He gulped dryly; he needed a small sip of water to swallow the lump in his throat. He forced himself to stand up and stumbled into the bathroom where he switched on a small lamp. The small space immediately bathed in shadowy mellow light. Tucker leaned on cold basin edges, filled a small glass with water and gulped it down at once.

For the first time his eyes fell on his reflection and the glass fell from his numbed fingers. This was the first time he saw his face after a long time; actually, for the first time in his second life.

He was staring at himself wide-eyed, there was something disturbing in what he saw, but he couldn't define what. What was he even supposed to see? Expected to see? Something else, definitely; the man that was watching him back would be young if not for lines of stress around his mouth and pain in his eyes.

_You're watching me and I am watching you; our gazes intertwine. I could get lost in the depth of your stare. Your eyes, they don't gleam, glitter or shine – nothing but two black holes that suck everything in, even light, or me. I could get lost in you. _

_Would I?_

_You're so full of a strange pain, and stranger's lust. You are less than mine shadow. And yet, you stand here gazing at me and your hollow greedily-sucking stare fills me with terrible fear. If you were I, would I hate you?_

_Repelling and compelling at the same time. What makes you hurt like that?_

_God help me if you are residing within me; then I can't live with me, nor leave. _

Tucker stepped away from the mirror aghast. Broken shards under his feet scarped under his weight. The sound made his skin crawl. He slowly, thoughtfully dropped his gaze to look at them. He could make out their faintly glinting sharp edges; some bigger shards and many, many small glassy splinters glistening like irregular pearls. Just to lean down, one short slash and the man who wasn't will be quickly a man who wouldn't be.

Suddenly a hand landed on his shoulder and a breath ghosted over his ear. "Archer to Phlox, I found him in his quarters. He is fine."

Tucker flinched. He hadn't heard anyone entering. He looked away from his reflection to Archer's covered in shadows. The captain's face was strained, but he appeared…relieved.

Archer stepped closer cautiously, his hand not leaving Tucker's shoulder. "I thought Phlox told you not to leave Sickbay, Trip."

In a shocked trance Tucker mumbled faintly, "He did."

Archer gently prodded him. "Come back then."

Tucker obeyed dumbly following the captain out of the quarters where Reed was waiting in the hallway. The lieutenant stood seemingly at ease, but his hand hovered close to his phaser and his eyes very cautious. Tucker felt a short supporting squeeze where Archer's forgotten hand lay.

When they came to the Sickbay door, Tucker's steps were become sluggish and reluctant: He had attacked a Phlox, struck him into unconsciousness and every crime follows a punishment. When he mustered the nerve to enter Sickbay, he was welcomed by choking silence. With his eyes cast on the floor he didn't dare to look up at the Denobulan doctor awaiting him, rather staring on his boots instead. Neither Archer nor Reed in his tow spoke.

Slowly, he finally allowed his gaze to slide from the shoes to the doctor's face. To his surprise, Phlox was wearing a slightly crooked, yet reassuring small smile.

"Mister Tucker, I am glad you found your way back here," doctor's voice was toned and Tucker thankfully accepted that Phlox generously omitted the fact that he found his way to Sickbay only with Archer's and Reed's _help_.

Surprised and emotionally tired, he didn't manage more than a slow nod.

"Please, have a seat so we can take a look at what happened."

Before he could awake from his mental numbness or even move, Phlox was ushering him onto the nearest biobed and sliding around him with a tricoder.

Suddenly his hands folded in his lap began shaking slightly. Tucker watched them for a moment with genuine surprise and then firmly intertwined his fingers together to stop it. It didn't help; instead his whole body began shivering. Archer standing a few paces away inhaled sharply.

"No worries, gentlemen. It's only adrenaline wearing off. It should disappear in a moment," Phlox commented confidently still studying his tricoder intently.

"So what is the verdict?" the worried captain was getting impatient.

"I can give you only my opinion at the moment. We have nothing to go by, as you know."

Archer's eyebrows rose. Reed straightened, "You are the expert." His words were more clipped than usually, betraying his concern.

"Mister Tucker can you explain what you felt before you attacked me?"

Tucker's gaze fell, he replied reluctantly. "I felt like I needed to get out of here immediately. When you denied, I felt angry."

"Are you still angry?"

"No!" Tucker's vehement denial left no room for doubts about the earnestness of his words.

"And I believe you. Before you attacked me, your biobed recorded wild swing in your blood pressure, heart rate and I am sure we would also find changes in your chemical compositions. These...mood-swings are a result of your system adjusting to all changes."

"So they are only a symptom of getting better?" Archer inquired incredulously.

"As a matter of fact, I believe, they are," Phlox chirped. Reed only shook his head and sighed. "Should I post guards in case this repeats?"

Phlox tilted his head a moment, weighing his trust against his own security. "I don't think it's necessary. Now we know the warning signs and the chemistry is steadily improving. It's likely that mister Tucker'll be a little cranky at most, but not aggressive."

Archer took Phlox' decision with a dismayed frown and Tucker's doubtful stare didn't raise anyone's confidence much."It's all in your hands doctor, if anything happens, inform me."

Archer snorted when he realized just how disconcerted he was. He used to be quite temperamental, but he hoped that with experience his wild streak got a little milder. The recent occurrences however seemed to prove him wrong.

Archer snorted again and turned on his side in his bed. It was past twelve and in seven hours his shift was due. If he didn't fall asleep soon, he would be very cranky. He closed his eyes again and tried to relax his breathing into regular deep breaths, but it worked only rarely and he knew that this doomed night wasn't of the lucky ones.

After a few fake deep breathes, Archer threw away his cover resolutely and crawled out of the bed. Either he'd visit Phlox, ask for a shot and get as much sleep as possible, or someone would be chewed so thoroughly in the morning they'd wish they were never born.

Hopefully Phlox didn't give Trip a hard time with his examination. If his two gregarious friends something in common, it was their boundless fascination with new phenomena within their expertise. It wouldn't surprise him all too much if Phlox unwittingly held Tucker still up, with the thought getting up seemed more acceptable.

When Archer dragged into Sickbay, he was welcomed by a snort followed by a dry laugh.

"You look like a marine!"

"I look like a goat! I only wanted it _a little_ shorter!"

With two long strides Archer got to a medical curtain and tore it open. The view that presented itself was funny, in a way: Tucker was sitting with a blanket tied around his neck. Over him was standing Reed with a pair of scissors and everywhere around them were small balls of blond hair. Both men flinched almost guiltily at Archer's harsh interruption.

"Ouch! Careful with the scissors, you grazed my ear!" Turning his head Tucker complained, ignoring furious Archer coldly.

"Lieutenant, what are you doing here?" Archer barked. Reed immediately stiffened into attention, scissors in his hand forgotten.

"I was cutting Commander Tucker's hair," he replied briskly.

"Mister Tucker has been temporarily stripped of his rank." That got Tucker's attention too, both men stiffened. Archer continued. "Were you stripped of it too, Lieutenant?"

"No, sir!" Reed pushed through his clenched teeth.

"Correct me if I am wrong, but you have a morning shift." It wasn't a question, yet an answer was expected, so Reed nodded mutely.

"We had Sulibans on an intercept course only a day ago. There is still a chance we'll meet them. If there is a collision, you'd better be well rested." Archer's words were laser sharp, just like his voice. From the corner of his eye Reed could see as Tucker huffed and breathed in deeply to retort something spicy, but before any arguments, insults or expletives could leave his mouth, Reed cut them off both. "Certainly, sir! I haven't expected to extend my visit for so long."

"Dismissed," Archer cocked his head and considered the response, then growled.

"Aye, sir." Reed was about to leave, when gaping Tucker finally exploded.

"Dismissed?" he bristled.

Reed, who was about to leave, quickly turned back, "Trip," he warned, but Tucker only shot him a warning look and concentrated his temper back on Archer. "I called Malcolm to help me and _you_ come here and, and…! Who do you think you are?" Tucker jumped up striding past Archer to Malcolm at the door resolutely, when Phlox' carefully measured voice stopped him. "You shouldn't leave, Commander." They were all so engaged in their fight they didn't notice when the doctor, who had been alarmed by their raised voices, appeared.

Tucker stopped just short of Sickbay door, his face a hard mark of grim determination. However, Phlox' hard stare wouldn't yield either clearly saying he would use any means necessary to keep his patient here.

For a second Tucker's gaze flickered between Archer and Phlox, then finally landed on Reed, who ever so slightly shook his head. Frowning Tucker squared his shoulders defiantly and he briskly strode past Archer back to his biobed, landing on it heavily.

With his goal achieved, Phlox had no intentions to compete in the battle of wills any further and retreated into the back of Sickbay again.

Archer's eyes didn't leave Tucker, who returned the stare stonily. Finally, the captain gave up and gritted between his teeth, "Keep me posted, Doctor."

"Certainly." Phlox replied in a subdued tone.

Archer walked out of Sickbay purposefully, without his medication and with his night-sleep ultimately stolen. He couldn't imagine how his life could become even more complicated. Exploring deep space was often demanding enough, the last thing he needed were heated arguments with his chief engineer, former best friend, _and_ his armory officer. How could he ever believe that after retrieving Tucker, a long medium-heated lecture about carefulness on strange planets would be enough to settle everything back to fine? Instead he found out that his best _male_ friend was sleeping with an alien guy on a God forsaken planet, soon after the named best friend made a pass on him and after that his relatively organized life became such a rollercoaster, that his turbulent adolescent years appeared completely harmless.

Archer finally got into his quarters and gladly lay down, because even the ceiling was spinning. To say that he felt like someone had roughly pulled a rug from under his feet seemed like the understatement of the year.

With sick fascination he clinically examined his feelings. Angry? A lot! Frustrated? Like hell! Betrayed? Oh, yes.

The vehemence of Tucker's refusal of his presence was abashing; of course, minus the moment when he tried to seduce him to gain his trust and attempt an escape later.

It was hurtful how simply the ten years of their close friendship were forgotten, how easily Tucker turned to Malcolm Reed.

Archer frowned. Naturally that wasn't _that_ new, he had noticed the growing closeness between the two officers for the first time after the Shuttlepod incident. There certainly transpired much more, than their reports said, but he had never found out what. Whatever it was, thanks to Tucker's outgoing character, Reed started melting a little towards the crew, so he let it slide, but now, now he wished he hadn't.

During their argument in Sickbay Reed kept a strictly professional facade, but when Tucker intercepted, he was surprised.

Archer sat up abruptly. Was it possible that Reed didn't expect the defense? The longer he rolled the incident around in his head, the more probable it seemed.

Archer clenched his fists; he messed up, badly. He behaved like an idiot because of a whim! He found the worst possible vent for his frustration, not only he angered Reed, but Tucker was downright furious.

_You'd better swallow your pride or you're going to choke on it, Archer!_

Right at breakfast he would apologize. He had to!

The plan was good, it had certain elegance and it failed before it even started. When Archer woke up in the morning with his eyes achy and sore, it was not to his alarm clock, but to his com.

"T'Pol to Captain Archer, please respond."

Archer flinched and tried to scramble out of his bed quickly. Too late did he realize his foot was caught in tangled sheets and soon he was flying off his bed nose first.

"T'Pol to Captain Archer, please respond."

Archer scrambled up painfully. "I am coming, I am coming," he grumbled.

He finally got to the com. "Archer here." He was amazed how much dignity he was able to squeeze into his voice.

If T'Pol's sensitive senses caught any of his distress, she didn't betray it. "Captain, you were due on you duty ten minutes ago, is there a problem?"

"No, no problems. I am at the bridge in a moment." He cut her off hastily before she could ask any more questions and quickly got dressed. So much for his planned apology.

When he entered the bridge, he felt all eyes on him. Luckily, T'Pol spared him of any questions since his tousled appearance probably said it all, so she merely stood up from the captain's chair.

"Hold it there for a moment longer, please," he halted her. Then he turned to Reed, who was watching him from his post with a carefully blank expression.

"May I have a word with you, Lieutenant?" Archer motioned towards the Ready room.

Reed shrugged slightly and Archer secretly hoped he was as apt at hiding his feelings as his officer, but probably not, because he felt stares following them until the doors swooshed closed behind them.

Once in, Reed remained standing stiffly at the table.

"Please, sit down," Archer offered nervously and moved to take the opposite chair. He hoped it would make them more relaxed, but even when Reed complied, his coldness remained firmly in place. Archer swallowed audibly.

"Lieutenant….Malcolm, I'd like to talk about yesterday."

Reed sagged a little and cut him off. "There's no need, sir. I understand you've been under considerable pressure."

Archer blinked in shock. "But, I wanted to…"

"As I said, I understand you completely."

It was almost not to stomach, court Malcolm Reed cut him off twice in one minute. "That is very considerate, Malcolm. I'd like you to accept my invitation to the movie night with dinner in my mess."

Archer felt air leaving his lungs; suddenly, the whole dinner idea seemed very lame. He breathed a sigh of relief, when Reed retorted hesitantly: "That is acceptable, but you should ask Trip as well. He was really upset after you left."

How did Reed gotten the privilege of calling Tucker by his nickname, especially now? "I don't think he would even let me ask."

"Ask him. Dinner in three, it's been a long time since we've had one." Reed even smiled a bit tightly, which was more than Archer was hoping for. What a victory! As if reading his mind once again, Reed suggested, "You could try asking him now, I am sure we can spare you another moment on the bridge."

"Oh, I think I have messed up enough for today. I'll go after the shift," he decided.

But the shift dragged long, long and much longer, Archer grumbled in his head anxiously. But it came to its end, finally and retreating Reed gave him an almost invisible encouraging smile.

"T'Pol, please. Where is Commander Tucker?"

The Vulcan raised her eyebrows, but called up the information on her monitor. "_Mister _Tucker is in Sickbay."

Archer ignored her forceful implication of Tucker's civilian status. He hoped that they could return to the rank addressing soon enough.

In Sickbay he was welcomed by Phlox and Tucker playing checkers with Tucker decidedly winning.

When Tucker didn't acknowledge him, Archer coughed politely.

"Please, Doctor, can I have a word with…" he loosely gestured towards the man, who was gazing at him coldly.

"Of course, Captain. Mister Tucker stripped me of all desserts anyway," Phlox joked and passing the captain, he whispered. "Please, no blood."

Archer patted him on the shoulder, but smiled uneasily. Facing open animosity glaring from Tucker's whole posture, suddenly apologizing didn't seem so easy at all.

Well, politeness could never damage anything. "May I sit?"

Tucker remained passive, just staring at him. "I spoke with Malcolm in the morning. I asked him if he felt like going to the movies."

Tucker cocked his head. "Is _that_ your apology?" he snarled.

"Yes. And he accepted both my apology and my invitation." To his relief, Tucker nodded briefly and some of his tension eased, so Archer quickly continued before he chickened out. "I thought…I wondered if you'd come too. It's been a long time since we spent some quality time together."

"Malcolm's coming then?"

"Yes." Archer nodded vigorously; he felt he was getting somewhere.

"Ok. I'll come then. When do we meet?"

"Come around my quarters," Archer suggested before Tucker could change his mind. It didn't seem necessary though – after he straightened the matters between himself and Reed, Tucker seem willing to establish some balance between them again

Later, when Archer, still dazed and in awe how good everything had gone, returned to his quarters, he realized he didn't have nearly as much time as he'd wish. His quarters looked more or less presentable, because there was always the chance of someone coming around for captain's advice. He just collected a few datapads placed on all horizontal surfaces, expecting his attention, and stacked them into his drawer, so everything looked even better.

Tonight, he wanted everyone relaxed and so there couldn't be anything even remotely reminding of work.

A few shirts quickly followed by his uniform flew into the clothes disposer and he picked a few items of clean civilian clothing; he opted for jeans, a t-shirt and his favorite dark blue sweater – all well preserved. It was his favorite attire he used to wear to conquests at 602 – definitely comfortable and confidence lifting- he would need that.

With the stack of clothing prepared he walked into shower; after the sweat-breaking conversations, passing on it wasn't an option. Heavy thoughts were following him even there though. He shaved and after a short consideration even brushed his teeth, again.

He just finished dressing and wanted to dry his hair again properly when his doorbell chimed. Archer frowned and checked his chronometer; he only hoped it wasn't anyone in dire need of captain's advice. He threw the prepared sweater around his neck and hurried to open. To his surprise, the door revealed Tucker and Phlox.

Tucker was dressed in some simple clothes, not in Sickbay attire, what could only mean that Phlox allowed him to go into his quarters to get dressed, probably going with him the whole way to keep his patient from harm. The idea was slightly amusing and touching, but from Tucker's expression spoke more of harassment.

Tucker marched by Archer and then turned to Phlox. "See. I am here," he grumbled. "You can let me in captain's capable hands; I am not jumping out of the airlock."

Archer smirked, if Tucker called his hands capable, then Phlox must have driven him up the wall the whole day. The doctor smiled one of his incredibly wide smiles. "Very well, Captain, when you plan to return Mister Tucker back into _my_ capable hands, please comm. me."

Archer nodded dumbly and Phlox satisfied left.

Once the doctor was gone, Tucker didn't appear so self-confident at all.

"You are a little early." To his defense, it was the first thing that came to Archer's blank mind, when Tucker grimaced briefly, he regretted the words instantly, so he quickly gestured towards a chair. "Malcolm isn't here yet, so we have a few moments together."

Tucker nodded shortly and settled into the chair tiredly. Archer quickly resumed drying his hair. "I wanted to give the Chef our wish list, but I wasn't sure if you aren't on a special diet or don't have a special wish."

It seemed his weight was a good topic, because Tucker breathed out briefly and it occurred to Archer that maybe Tucker was just as nervous to give them a good new start as he was.

"Phlox is trying to bring my weight up," Tucker waved dismissively with his hand, but Archer couldn't agree more with the doctor: Tucker really looked thinner, not in sickly or fragile way, but with his eating habits in crisis, they will have to keep an eye on him so the recuperation didn't get unnecessarily prolonged.

"Reed to Captain Archer," Reed's voice from the communicator interrupted them.

Tucker raised an eyebrow. "An emergency?"

"I don't think so." Archer stiffly walked over to the comm. "Archer here. What's going on Malcolm?"

A slightly raspy voice responded. "I am sorry, sir. I can't come to our dinner. I feel like I am going down with something. Please, dine without me."

Tucker stood up concerned.

"We can set up some other date, Malcolm."

"No, Captain. Not on my account, please. Greet Trip."

"I am here," Tucker interjected. "Do you need anything?"

A raspy laugh from the other end screeched in their ears. "I am fine, Trip. Nothing a tea and warm bed wouldn't cure. Have fun on the movies," They could almost hear the man smile, before he cut the communication. "Reed out."

The room silenced, Archer looked uncertainly at Tucker; he didn't want to make Tucker feel uncomfortable, but to his relief, Tucker casually sat down looking around.

Archer noticed, ho he shivered slightly. "Should I warm up a little?" It was a rhetorical question because he was already adjusting the temperature a few degrees.

"I will take a moment, so you better sit on the bed, it's more comfortable. The chair always gives me a crick in the neck."

Tucker noted how easily Archer said it, like it was a quite usual thing. But of course it was normal; he had sat there before, many times. Yet this time, it was different, they didn't want it to be different. Tucker hesitated for a moment and casually moved to sit on the bed.

"Be right back, then we better go and snatch us some good places." With the explanation Archer disappeared in the small bathroom.

Tucker smiled slightly at the enthusiasm emanating from Archer and relaxed a bit leaning at the headboard. The bed was soft and nice, the warm air from heaters was making him drowsy.

Tucker cracked his eyes open – when did they even close? He blinked sleepily, the captain was still in the bathroom…

When Archer emerged from the bathroom only a few moments after he disappeared in it, he found Tucker sliding against the headboard breathing softly and regularly. He must have been really tired to fall asleep the moment he left the room for a few seconds, Archer thought as he sat down to his computer. Tucker didn't even stir a bit. Daily reports were his program then. The stack was getting a little too high anyway.

Archer glanced at dozing Tucker and felt something in him go softer; it wasn't so long when Tucker wouldn't trust Archer enough to let him out of sight, let alone sleep in the same room.

Archer activated the first report- from Armory, gazed at it a second, then put it back to the stack and got up to cover Tucker with a blanket. He gently took the sleeping man by his shoulders and slowly lowered him into a more comfortable position, watching his face for any sign of discomfort, but it remained peaceful and without the lines of disdain that were etched into it in the last days. It was a miraculous change, Archer thought. After a moment or even a few minutes he straightened up, he didn't even realize he had leant so close to have a look. His neck cracked in protest and he suddenly felt tired and old. He sighed, old or not, the reports needed to be signed, so he got into work.

Around the midnight, Tucker for the first time as much as stirred. He lifted his head slightly and with bleary eyes and voice hoarse with sleep he asked, "Shouldn't we go to the movie already?"

Archer grinned good-naturedly at his sleepy friend. "Nah. Go to sleep." He thought that Tucker would gladly obey, but he sat up instead. "But you wanted to go so much," he drawled drowsily.

"You can sleep, the movie is already over," Archer soothed him pushing him gently back into sleeping position.

At that, Tucker relented back into the covers. With his face burrowed in the pillow, he mumbled, "I am sorry."

"No need to, we will download it later," Archer smiled, but Tucker probably hadn't even heard that, for he was asleep already.

When Tucker slowly surfaced back to full conscience, he was slightly disoriented and overwhelmed by unfamiliar sensations. His mind was slowly and lazily floating in peace as he registered small sensations: soft scent, warm air, silence. The scent was comforting and familiar. He opened his eyes and found himself gazing at grey-blue ceiling – Starfleet standard, he was on Enterprise. Still confused he let his feet off the bed, when he made a contact with something warm that grunted at the touch. Tucker peeked over the edge and immediately all sleep cleared away when he exclaimed. "Jon!"

"Trip, you are stepping on me!" The captain growled deeply.

Tucker lifted his feet jerkily. He watched with horror as Archer sat up and grumbled. "You shouldn't have woken me."

"Yes, but you should have woken me! What about the movie?"

"You woke once and were pretty out of it when I spoke to you."

"I don't remember it," Tucker admitted reluctantly.

Archer grinned and sat next to Tucker. "It's okay. If you want to see the movie so much, we can download it from the database and watch it here."

Archer was frankly surprised when Tucker's eyes lit up with a genuine smile.

"Name the time. I'll be there."

Archer didn't realize just how close they were until he felt the air of the last word brush his neck warmly. Before his brain could catch up with this realization, Tucker reached out and touched the bruise on his jaw. "This was me."

Archer froze suddenly unsure what to do; then he looked into Tucker's eyes and grasped: Trip Tucker was touching him, because he wanted to. The fingers slid a little awkwardly, brushing the bruise and Archer winced. Tucker's fascinated eyes narrowed in contemplative sympathy.

"It's okay…it doesn't hurt…anymore. At least…most of the time," Archer tried lamely still gazing into Tucker's eyes, but the words immediately lost their meaning in the tense vacuum between them as if they never existed. Still touching his face and gazing straight into his eyes, Tucker leaned closer, tilted his head slightly and delicately licked Archer's upper lip.

Archer sucked in a breath and Tucker moved a little away to give him the chance to escape, as if it was still possible. Archer put his hands to the side of Tucker's face and then brought the man closer to kiss him thoroughly. It wasn't filled with the raw intensity he had experienced when Tucker kissed him the first time. This kiss wasn't fuelled forcefully, it was needy, yet hesitant - almost nostalgic. Archer opened his eyes slowly to see only brilliant blue - Tucker's eyes were shimmering slightly.

"Trip, I don't want to be a replacement," he whispered moving away a bit. This sentence could destroy everything he had just found and the thought twisted his insides, but then Tucker smiled softly, almost insecurely and Archer realized just how much did his Trip lose on Keira II. He embraced his loved into an unresisted hug and whispered into his ear.

"Please. Stay."

At the plea he felt Tucker lean into the embrace and bittersweet pleasure of hard-fought battles that never feels like victory overcame him when Tucker laid his head on his shoulder and whispered. "OK."

Archer tightened the embrace and with immense pleasure he nuzzled Tucker's slightly spiky blonde hair. Tucker raised his head to look at him, affection smoothing his features, then he kissed him briefly and let Archer continue the kiss, reveling in its ember. , because it was all he could give at the moment.

It was so different, Archer realized, so different from any embrace with Tucker - the body in his arms was slighter, less defined, the man more insecure than ever, the mere thought of it was squeezing his heart tightly.

When they parted, Tucker rested his brow on Archer's shoulder, his nape tensed. Archer slowly slid his palms over the man's back and found more tensed muscles.

"Trip, are you all right?"

His worries probably seeped into his voice because Tucker snuggled into the crook of his neck and murmured. "It's just a headache." It seemed as violation, to end their first kiss like this, but Archer's protectiveness immediately won over.

"Come, we'll go to Phlox." He made an attempt to stand up, but Tucker held him down.

"I don't need to visit Sickbay with every small pain."

"I should have brought you back already yesterday, Phlox must check you out anyway," Archer insisted carefully, but persistently.

"I am fine." This time it was louder, with a hint of warning that Tucker's patience was wearing thin.

"Trip," Archer put a hand on his shoulder trying to get his full attention gently. "Trip, please look at me."

Tucker left the warm cocoon of the embrace and looked at Archer wearily, like he heard the arguments thousand times and couldn't bear it any more.

Archer placed his hands on Tucker's shoulders, gazing at him squarely. "If you aren't well, I worry. I_ know_ you can take care of yourself, but so much had happened. You must bear if I'm overprotective for a while."

Tucker sighed and smiled a small, pained smile that definitely made Archer itching to get him to Sickbay no matter what.

"I'm sorry, I know I am a pain in the ass."

Archer laughed shortly, but heartily. "Yes, you are. And now come to Sickbay." He punctuated his playful plea with a soft lick to Tucker's lips. "Please."

"You can be mightily convincing."

Seeing the temporary defeat in Tucker's eyes, Archer quickly got to his feet and pulled Tucker up before he could change his mind.

He ushered Tucker out of the quarters and shortest way to Sickbay. Just like he expected, Phlox was there, but by far not as anxious about the whereabouts of their commander as Archer originally feared. He merely looked up to greet his visitors. "Captain, mister Tucker, please come in. I see you had fun." The doctor winked conspiratorially and Archer blushed when he realized that their lips must be swollen.

As soon as Tucker realized the same, his face turned a deep shade of carmine, because despite appearances, Tucker was a deeply private man. If they pursued a relationship and wanted it to survive, they needed to draw lines how public it would be.

"You seem tense, Mister Tucker. What's the problem?"

"I've got a headache."

"He's got a headache." They announced unison.

Phlox smiled sweetly. "Thank you, _Mister Tucker_. Now we shall look for the cause."

The imaging chamber opened and the sliding bed came out.

Archer asked worried, "Imaging chamber?" In his mind a headache came together rather with a simple handscanner and a shot, not with the imaging chamber that usually served for more precise and complicated examination.

Tucker looked at Phlox with his expressive eyebrows high and settled onto the bed, leaving the explanation to the doctor.

"Mister Tucker knows the drill: every day a new image of his amazing brain. I want to document all steps of his remarkable recovery. It's a small image for him, but it can be a great leap in brain surgeries or repairing of neural pathways," Phlox explained enthusiastically while the chamber hummed and images began appearing on a screen above it. Subsequently, the machine spit Tucker out again.

"You said you have a headache, hm?"

Tucker, who sat up, nodded carefully.

"Do you experience any other discomfort?"

Archer jumped in again "Is it something bad?"

Tucker gave him an angry stare and still gazing at him pointedly, he answered the doctor. "No, nothing special."

Phlox shook his head. "I don't see the cause for your headache, but it can be something really small, I'll look a closer at all your results, but for now I'll give you an analgesic. It's weak, but should work quickly." As he spoke, the doctor filled a hypospray and injected the medicine in Tucker's neck. To Archer's relief, the stress lines etched in Tucker's face straightened a little.

"Better?"

"Yeah," Tucker smiled unconvincingly.

"Now you are free to go. I'll try to find the cause for your discomfort. If your condition worsens, come _immediately_ to me."

Archer checked the chronometer on the wall and winced. "I must go, my shift begins in three minutes. Will you be all right?"

Tucker gave him an exasperated look to which Archer responded with a stern glare.

"I know. Overprotective. I get it," Tucker grumbled. "Go, go, I'll be just fine." That finally convinced the captain and he hurried to his shift, leaving the doctor and his patient alone.

Tucker turned to Phlox. "I'd like to have breakfast now, if you don't mind."

"I certainly don't mind, Mister Tucker. You need to work on your body maintenance. However, I can't join you, I am afraid."

Tucker remained staring, even gaping a little. "You mean…?" he didn't even dare to finish the thought.

Phlox smiled reassuringly. "That's exactly what I mean, mister Tucker. Or is Commander Tucker better? I checked your brain scans and other tests and they look very good. I need to give them one more thorough look, but I expect you to return to a light duty, for starters, tomorrow."

For a few seconds Tucker just gaped disbelieving and then relaxed into a giddy sparkling smile.

"This _Commander _doesn't mean you won't go to mess now and eat. Engineering needs its commanding officer, not a walking skeleton." Phlox exaggerated as usually, when he pointed at Tucker's more-than-usually trim waist. "If you don't eat and I'll cut off your personal freedom and duty in Engineering immediately."

"So you are just giving me more rope."

"Yes, I hope you won't hang yourself on it."

"So I better go and get some scrambled eggs then."

"You can add a toast and a sausage to it as well." Phlox called after him since Tucker was already on his way out.

"Hello, Trip. Where's your suite?" Reed sitting over his breakfast waved to Tucker, who was just looking for a place to sit with a tray loaded with food.

"Phlox said that I am better and probably will return to duty tomorrow," Tucker immediately shared the news before he even put the tray down.

"That's great news," Reed enthused making more space on the table.

Tucker nodded cheerfully then narrowed his gaze. "You don't seem very sick," he observed suspiciously.

"I told you it's only a one-day cold," Reed tried innocently but a small smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

"So? What's this all about? Why didn't you come yesterday?" Tucker inquired curiously.

"A date," Reed kept his voice leveled and stoic.

Tucker almost let go of his half loaded fork. "Excuse me? You want to say you passed on a dinner with me and the captain because of a date?" His attempt to sound insulted was apparently not functioning, because he, too, was smiling too much.

Without interrupting his methodic chopping of his bacon into small stripes Reed nodded.

"I don't understand you, Malcolm."

Reed just grinned at that. For a moment Tucker played with his food, pushing it around the plate thoughtfully. Then he coughed and started hesitantly. "You know, when I asked you to let me go," It was more of a conversational statement than a question. "You know I wanted you to, but I guess that at the same time I was afraid you'd let go."

"I haven't considered it even for a moment," Reed argued firmly.

"Yeah I know."

They both fell into heavy, contemplative silence, until Reed interjected with a teasing question. "Tell me, did you plan to flee?"

"Of course! I had it all planned up to the escape in the shuttlepod."

"You'd never have managed. I was right behind you the whole time," Reed laughed.

"No," Tucker laughed, "Probably not. And here I thought I was being stealthy."

"Oh, how was your dinner with Captain?"

"It was….fine, really fine…" Tucker murmured.

Reed flashed him a secretive, contended smile and then changed the theme. "Are you up to

a little exercises? You should put on some muscles and weight."

"I suppose it can't hurt. When do you go?" Tucker enthused while stacking his used utensils together.

"In about an hour, in gym?" Suddenly Reed seemed a little uncertain and embarrassed. "You know where the gym is, right?"

"I do remember now!" Tucker huffed. "It gets a little strange at times, though."

"In what sense?"

"Normally, when someone asks you a question or mentions a thing, you immediately either recognize it, or you don't. It doesn't work like that for me. It's like I have all memories stacked in here," Tucker tapped his temple," but it's like I need to do inventory to actually know what's there. Some things come alone, some I have to recall. I guess it's just the process of remembering…" he shrugged.

"Don't worry about it too much. In a week or two you probably won't even notice."

"Trip, having a good time?"

Tucker jerked almost letting go off his tray, he didn't notice when Archer came in.

"Doctor Phlox sent me the analysis of your last medical. He deems you fit for duty." Tucker looked at the captain worriedly, why didn't he sense any happiness? Archer should be happy for him, right? "Yeah, he told me," he stated cautiously.

"I'd like to make sure it's all right, so I asked Phlox and T'Pol to prepare an exam evaluating your professional and mental fitness," Archer said quickly.

"I see. This is your decision?" Tucker's eyes fixed on Archer's coldly.

Archer straightened, staring back unrelenting. "Yes, it was my idea. I won't let you on duty unless you don't pass. Do you agree?"

"Of course," Tucker delivered his answer without a blink.

"Then come. Phlox's waiting." Archer put a guiding hand on his shoulder.

"What, now?"

"Now is as good time as ever. It'll be over quickly."

Tucker went out into the hall like in haze, while Archer shortly told something to Reed, Tucker didn't catch what, but he turned just in time to see Reed's alarmed expression fast covered by a professional mask. Reed came up to him and patted him on shoulder. "I won't say good luck. You don't need it."

"Thanks," Tucker tried to grin, but his cheeks refused co-operation. Reed squeezed his shoulder and left in a hurry.

"No worries. You passed tens such in Starfleet," Archer said leading them to the lift. Once inside, Archer's expression melted. "I'm sorry, Trip. You know I can't play favorites. I can't afford it," the steel in his voice melted as he looked into Tucker's eyes "And I don't even need to."

Tucker gazed at the man he had kissed merely an hour or two ago confused, was it even the same man? What changed him so much? Gazing at him he realized he knew the answer: the responsibility for lives under his command. Archer smiled softly and gave him a fleeting grateful kiss on lips before the doors opened. "You'll do great, no worries."

Before Tucker could think of any response, the lift opened and they stepped out as a perfect picture of two officers heading for an exam, nothing more.

"Commander, please, come in." Tucker rolled his eyes; there probably wasn't anything on Earth, or space for the matter, that could make Phlox serious. However his jovial nature was far more embracing than astute T'Pol with a datapad standing further away.

"Sub-commander kindly helped to create the exam so it covers all areas properly."

Tucker's wrinkled his nose, Phlox made it sound like a good thing. "I also took the liberty to add a few questions to see the accessibility and function of certain brain areas, I hope you don't mind."

Archer beside him tensed, prepared to step in, but Tucker winked the question away. "Let's get this over." He grabbed the pad dutifully. "How much time do I have for

this?" It inadvertently reminded him of school.

"You've got 30 minutes for the general part, one hour for calculations."

Tucker took in the number of numerical questions and frowned.

"We took into consideration your mathematical and technical talents, Commander."

He activated the first section. _Who was the creator of the Warp 5 engine? _Tucker looked up from the pad sharply, was it some kind of a joke? However, the officers were ignoring his bewildered stares talking among themselves softly. His heart rate stabilized; maybe it wouldn't be such a disaster at all.

After exactly 90 minutes the pad de-activated, but it had been lying on the table for good 10 minutes anyway. T'Pol took the pad and ran an evaluating program. Against himself Tucker felt his blood pressure rise as she looked at the screen, lifted an eyebrow and passed the pad to Phlox and then the captain.

"You passed with excellent results. You were performing dissatisfactory only in literature, but I think that may have something with your general ignorance of that field rather than brain insufficiency. Congratulations."

"Brain insufficiency?" Trust it to a Vulcan to make even a praise sound like an insult.

"Yes, Sub-commander summed it up nicely," Phlox chirped as he studied the results more closely, absolutely oblivious to the sting of insult in her words. "You passed with flying colors!"

With a swell of pride Tucker turned to the captain to share his joy, but found Archer staring at him gravely. "Trip, please come with me to my Read room, now. T'Pol, please follow us." Sudden steely quality of Archer's voice was baffling and the speed of the transport too.

Archer raced down the corridors so fast that Tucker almost couldn't keep up the pace without jogging a little. Unsurprisingly T'Pol had no problems with it, though. Their strange procession was drawing attention of everyone they met. They swept over the bridge into the ready room like a tide.

"Don't disturb us unless it's critical." Archer barked, not even slowing a little or turning on his way to Ready room.

When they entered the first thing Tucker noticed was Reed waiting at them. Tucker shot him a small tight smile, but the armory officer remained impassive just like the captain and T'Pol.

"Please, Trip, sit down." Archer's request was tense; he swept his gaze at Reed and continued. "I am glad you did so well in your tests."

Tucker nodded dumbly, his gaze flickering between the officers. What was this all about?

"It also proved that you can answer a few of our questions. It is necessary you pass a security examination."

"Security examination?" Before he could burst out, Archer's stare fixed him.

"You were eight weeks in hands of an alien. No one knows Enterprise better than you do. If there is any chance we have a security breach, we need to know it."

Despite Archer's relatively mild tone, the response irked him. "You gotta be kidding me! What would _he _do? Shoot at us with sand?"

"Trip, there were Sulibans close, if you told anything Sorro, they may get it out of him. Were we compromised?"

"Compromised? For God's sake, Malcolm!"

Reed shrunk back as if slapped, but recovered quickly, "We need to know everything, how it started and how were you captured, what exactly happened!"

"God, you really meant this," Tucker shook his head in disbelief.

"Please, Commander, how were you captured?" Reed repeated slowly and clearly.

Tucker huffed; the whole scene had a surreal feeling. He knew that they would be asking, but this was insulting: doubts coming from his friends were like a slap that leaves the cheek raw. Instead of the process being quick and clean as it was intended no doubt, it had left a bad after taste in his mouth; he surrendered nevertheless, it was time to show everyone where his stupidity brought him.


End file.
