Archive of Our Own

Chef knew he was a particular man. He had laid down a canon of law that no one with an ounce of sense would ever dare to violate, and the number one rule was that he didn't like to be bothered in his kitchen when he was creating. So it came as no surprise that Chef was predictably annoyed when he heard the door to his kitchen slide open one afternoon.

The cook took in a deep breath, summoning up the energy needed to chew the head off of this brazen intruder, but the words of condemnation died in his throat when the captain walked in. Chef wasn't usually willing to make exceptions to his edicts, even for the captain, but one glance at Jonathan Archer was enough to still the cook's protest cold.

It was obvious that the captain was still suffering from his exposure to the desert sands. What little patches of Archer's skin that weren't peeling had blossomed into a bright red hue and his cheeks and lips were swollen. Literally Archer looked like he was dead on his feet. "I'm sorry to bother you when you're cooking..." Even the captain's throat croaked when he talked. "I know you don't like anybody in here..."

'No, no, Captain. You are welcome here anytime." Worried that Archer would collapse right then and there, the cook gestured for the captain to sit down before he fell down. "How can I help you?"

Archer gratefully perched himself on a kitchen stool. "I don't know if you heard this or not..." the captain said, well aware that Chef was rarely interested in anything happening outside of his kitchen. "...but Commander Tucker and I ran into some problems out in that desert."

"Yes sir, I know." Chef happened to be walking by the launch bay right after the shuttlepod docked and he saw Dr. Phlox frantically working on Commander Tucker while they wheeled him to sickbay. The commander didn't look very good. Neither did the captain as he followed behind the gurney. "I understand that Commander Tucker is going to be all right." Chef said, trying to cheer the captain up.

As intended that brought a small smile to Archer's face. "He's going to be fine." Then the captain gave the Chef an odd little look. "In a way, you're to thank for that."

"Me?" While Chef knew he had a positive impact on the crew via their stomachs, his kitchen was nowhere near the burning sands that almost claimed the commander's life. "How could I have possibly done anything to save Commander Tucker?"

"Trip had gotten a fever and I was doing everything I could to keep him awake and keep his mind going, knowing full well if he fell asleep then he would probably slip into a coma and die. I managed to salvage some water and boil away the contaminants, but it was only tepid at best and we had no food."

It didn't take much for Chef to picture the scene. "It must have been awful."

"It was." The memories were still fresh and vivid in Archer's mind. "Trip was so hungry and I would have given anything to have something for him to eat, but there was nothing. Desperate, I tried to get Trip to focus on the next best thing and made him describe his dream meal to me. At the time neither of us knew if he would live long enough..." The captain's voice broke for a moment and he had to clear it before he could continue. "If he would live long enough to eat it, but thinking about it kept him going for awhile." When Archer looked at the cook it actually seemed like he was a little embarrassed. The captain wasn't used to asking favors, especially from someone as temperamental as Chef but he had to, for Trip's sake. "I know you don't like anyone messing with your menu plans, but if you wouldn't mind making an exception this time..."

"Of course, Captain." Chef broke in. "It would be no problem. I'd be happy make whatever you would like."

"Thanks." Archer handed Chef a padd. "Here's what he wants."

Chef quickly glanced at the menu. The cook wasn't surprised to see that Tucker's country boy tastes favored the staples. Prime rib, mashed potatoes with mushroom gravy, broccoli and pecan pie. All quite simple. "We have all of these foods in stock. I guarantee you Captain that this meal will be absolutely no trouble to prepare at all."

"Glad to hear it." Fighting his body's inertia Archer got to his feet. "Dr. Phlox is going to release Trip in a day or two. I'll let you know when he's well enough to really enjoy this meal."

"I can have it ready for you whenever you like." Chef assured him. The captain thanked the cook and as Archer left Chef noted that he had more of a spring in his step then when he arrived.

When the captain was gone Chef sagged back against the counter. He knew he had a positive impact on the crew, but never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that he would ever save a life! Chef vowed at that moment to make Tucker's meal the best that he had ever tasted.

Laughter filled the captain's tiny dining room. One reason the volume level was so boisterous was that there were more revelers present that night. Table extenders had been added to accommodate six rather than the usual four so Malcolm, Hoshi and Travis could join T'Pol and the captain in celebrating Trip's safe recovery from the ravages of the desert.

And Trip had recovered. Archer had never seen the engineer so animated. Tucker had happily plowed through his prime rib, potatoes and the broccoli in record time, cheerfully savoring every bite. It was obvious to John that Trip was simply relishing the fact that he was still alive to enjoy the meal.

Tucker was also taking great pleasure in relaying their desert adventure to the others, enhancing his stature to Herculean proportions with every telling, thereby leaving everyone dissolved in laughter at his Arabian tales. "So the cap'n here promised me that we wouldn't hafta eat any snake meat an' no sooner were we down on the sand then we were each presented with a bowl of a delicacy called blood soup!"

"Ick." Hoshi wrinkled her nose, just imagining the smell. "That sounds awful."

"That wasn't the worst of it." Trip was really getting into the story now. "I noticed there were a bunch of little chunks floating in the brine and like an' idiot I had to go an' ask what they were."

"I shudder to think." Malcolm said before he actually shuddered.

Now Trip knew darn well that Malcolm was making fun of him, so he waited until the armory officer had his mouth full of pecan pie before he answered. "Zobral called them 'essence of the male'!"

Malcolm choked, accidentally spewing bits of pie across the table and everyone erupted in laughter. Everyone, Tucker noted, except Jonathan Archer. The captain hadn't said much during dinner, content to mainly watch the engineer enjoy himself, but obviously he had something on his mind. Trip had a pretty good idea what it was, but he couldn't call Archer on it with all these people around, he'd have to wait until later.

So Trip settled for turning his attention back to the party. Malcolm had recovered from his surprise and was frantically covering up the traces of his dessert with his napkin. The armory officer just hated a mess. "Very funny."

Trip shrugged. "You asked."

"That I did." Malcolm knew Trip was teasing him and was glad for it. Tucker's gentle humor was something he nearly lost to the desert sands, and the thought was sobering. "You know Trip, sometimes it's difficult to put up with your sophomoric attempts at humor, but I can tell you now that life on Enterprise would be sorely bland without you to liven things up." Trip started to blush at the praise, but Malcolm wasn't finished. He raised his glass of wine. "I would like to propose a toast, to Commander Charles Tucker the Third. May we hear your bad jokes again and again, for many more years to come."

"Here, here." Everyone joined in, and glasses clinked around the table. A part of Trip was embarrassed at being the center of all this attention, but most of him was pleased to learn that he was so warmly received by his shipmates.

As the evening wound down Jonathan Archer silently got up from his chair and stared out the window at the display of stars outside. The others obviously didn't think anything of it but Trip did. The engineer deliberately stayed behind as his friends said their goodnights and it wasn't long before he and Archer were totally alone.

They both just sat there, saying nothing for a few minutes, until the long silence got to be too much for Trip. "It wasn't your fault, you know."

"The hell it wasn't!" They both knew exactly what this conversation was about. Archer rounded on Tucker, his anger and frustration flowing out of his every pore. "Let's count off the many reasons why this was exactly my fault. One." Archer held up a finger. "You flat out told me that you didn't want to go to a desert. You said the heat and the dry air just sucked the life out of you. You warned me that you could get hurt and I just ignored you. I even went so far as to lay a guilt trip on you in order to coerce you into going down to that planet with me when I knew damn well that you really didn't want to."

Trip opened his mouth to say something but Archer forestalled him by holding up another finger. "Two. Once we were down in that 'hotter than hell' heat we had to play in that game of Geskana. I let you run around, banging up half a dozen of your ribs in the process, and let you over exert yourself for no important reason. Totally ignoring the fact that you were depleting your reserves over a stupid game, and never even having enough imagination to consider the possibility that we could end up in trouble later."

Archer paused to see if Trip was going to try to interrupt him again but Tucker just kept his mouth shut. He'd let the captain say his piece before even beginning to talk him out of the mind set he was in.

Seeing that he was free to continue Archer held up another finger. "And the third reason, which is the worst one of all, is that none of this would have happened if I hadn't freed those Suliban prisoners." Archer lowered his hand and started to pace. "When will I learn to keep my nose out of other people's business."

Tucker could keep quiet no longer. "You're not an interferin' busybody. You were trying to help those people."

Archer froze in mid step, then slowly turned to face Tucker. "Helping those people nearly got you killed. Is that supposed to be a price that I'm willing to pay?"

The question was rhetorical since the answer in Archer's mind, was so obviously not. Trip thought long and hard for a few seconds, wondering how to word his reply. He was never much good on the debating team back in high school, but he did learn a thing or two and Trip had the feeling that he was going to have to put on the best performance of his life if he was going to win this particular argument.

"Let's go through these one at a time." Trip help up one finger just like Archer did. "Number one. You didn't force me to go anywhere. If I didn't really want to go with you I wouldn't have." Archer had been looking away from Trip, but the engineer ducked around until he made eye contact with the captain and drew Archer's head upward until their eyes were locked together. "Okay, it's true that I don't like hot air, an' the desert isn't my first choice for a vacation, but the fact of the matter is that we don't get enough time to relax on board Enterprise, an' getting the chance to spend some quality time with you, even if it meant sweating for a few hours in a desert hot box was well worth it." Trip moved forward until he was almost touching the captain. He had to get Archer to believe what he was telling him now. "You didn't force me to go anywhere. You've gotta believe that."

The captain held Trip's gaze for a few seconds, then broke away, turning back to the window. Okay, maybe he did believe that Trip didn't blame him for that one, but there were so many other areas where his guilt was so obviously clear. "All right. I guess I didn't compel you to go down there against your will, but that doesn't mean that I'm still not responsible."

"Are you talking about that stupid Geskana game again?" Trip asked, moving onto guilt topic number two. "If you recall I was the first one to volunteer to play before even you did, an' Zobral was right about one thing, that kinda game has a real appeal to men like us. You know we both can't turn back from a challenge. Besides, it was kinda fun."

The captain had to admit that he'd enjoyed the game. So much so that he was thinking of teaching it to other members of the crew, so they could play it on their next shore leave. Assuming that planet had a more reasonable temperature scale that was. Which reminded Archer that he wasn't totally off of the hook as far as issue number two went. "Still, I should have anticipated trouble. Kept you from depleting your reserves, just in case."

"You didn't know Zobral was a terrorist. He looked like a straight up guy." Trip countered. "Just like you didn't know that the Andorians, who started out by takin' Vulcan hostages, ended up bein' a group of decent people after all." Trip moved deeply into topic three. He was either going to win or lose his debate right here and right now. "Listen, Cap'n. The whole reason we're out here is to meet new people. You can't help but know that some of them aren't gonna turn out friendly, an' there's no guide book to lead the way. You have just gotta go with your gut an' let yourself trust. Freein' those Suliban prisoners was the right move to make an' there was no way you coulda anticipated Zobral's reaction to it. You've just gotta trust your conscience, Cap'n because we do."

For the first time since the conversation started Archer deliberately met Trip's gaze. He knew the engineer was trying to make an important point, but he wasn't sure what it was. "What are you getting at, Trip?"

"Every member of this crew chose to be on this ship for one, overwhelming reason. To serve under your command." Archer made to speak, but this time it was Trip who wouldn't let him talk. "Now I'm not sayin' that they still wouldn'ta come out here if Starfleet gave Enterprise to Duvall, or any other captain they hadta choose from, but I don't think the crew would have followed them as totally as they do you. We trust your instinct, Cap'n. Meetin' up with alien species that none of us have ever heard of has gotta be the hardest job in this universe. We know that the first contacts you make may not always turn out right, or that some unforeseen circumstances may crop up after the fact, but the bottom line Cap'n is that we trust you to do the right thing. Even if it ends up gettin' us killed."

Trip checked to see if Archer was still paying attention to him. The engineer was getting down to the crux of his argument and he didn't want to lose the captain's attention now, but he didn't have to worry. Archer was hanging onto every word. "I once told you that every member of this crew thought that this mission was worth the risk, and you know why?" The captain had an inkling but he shook his head anyway. He wanted to hear what Trip would say. "Because we're a part of history. A history that you're makin' with every light-year."

Archer's heart lurched when he heard Trip use that phrase. Making history was the dream his father shared with him when he was a child. Apparently he had, somehow, managed to pass that commitment along to his crew.

Trip could see that his message had finally gotten across. "You're worth the risk, Cap'n and I'll gladly follow you everywhere, every damn time, and that's never gonna change, no matter what happens.

Silence hung in the room as Trip's words settled into the captain's consciousness. John knew that he was human, that he was going to mess up sometimes, and in spite of that fact, or maybe because of it, his crew still believed in him, and more importantly Trip believed in him too. Archer felt as if a great weight had lifted from his heart and his guilt fled.

Apparently his demons from the desert had been totally appeased because the captain caught himself smiling. "So I'm guessing with this little lecture, which is more than I've ever heard you speak in one sitting by the way, is your way of telling me that you don't regret what happened."

"I don't regret a damn thing." Trip sounded positive, then he hesitated. "Well, I'm guessin' that I have to take that back. There is one thing that I'm regrettin'."

"Oh?" Archer felt the guilt flood back to him. "What was that?"

Trip moved forward and snaked his arms around the captain. "I regret that our 'quality time' was so short."

"Ah..." Relieved Archer sank into the embrace. He knew exactly what 'quality time' Trip was talking about. They had made love exactly once, while they were taking shelter in that desert rubble. It was one of the most intense experiences Archer had ever had, and one of the most desperate. Desperate because Trip was dying of heat stroke. The engineer wanted to feel his lover within him at least one time before his body failed him and John tried to make their one night memorable. Still, Archer had another notch of guilt to add to his belt. He had always wanted Trip, and when his mind was linked to Tucker's through the conduit of that alien life form a few weeks ago he learned that Trip felt the same. Still, they only finally gave into their passions when it was almost too late, but the sex was everything that Archer had hoped for. It was memorable, and it was deep, but John had been horribly afraid that it would be the only time, and that was one reason that he had felt so guilty.

Had felt.

Past tense.

John could admit that to himself now, it wasn't the guilt he was fearing most, or the doubt of his command judgement, the truth of the matter was that he had been terrified that Trip would blame him for nearly getting him killed down in that desert, that Trip would hate him for what he had done, but from the positively feral look John saw in Trip's eyes, what Tucker was feeling for Archer was about as far from hate as you could get. "You're right Trip." John lowered his head, intending to taste Trip's mouth with his own. "It was far too short." Their lips met and suddenly John was too busy to talk anymore.

The kiss deepened with Tucker giving Archer back as good as he got. Finally the engineer pulled back just enough to mumble..."We're gonna have to do something about that, Cap'n."

"I guess we are." Archer broke the lip contact to ask one important question. "The door?"

"I took care of it." Hoping for this kind of outcome for the evening Trip had locked the door after Malcolm left. He wanted to make damn sure that there was no chance that they could be interrupted. Just in case.

Now it looked like his planning was gonna pay off. Archer pulled Trip back into his embrace again, intending to take command of the situation, but Trip had other ideas.

Circumstances had forced him to be pretty passive in that desert shelter. His illness from heat stroke pretty much prevented him from actively participating in events, leaving John to do most of the work. Now Trip had to admit that he kinda liked having the captain's hands all over him, taking care of him in the sweetest possible way, but this time things were gonna be different. This time it was Jonathan Archer's turn.

Trip surprised the captain by roughly shoving him up against the wall and practically ripping off his clothes. Then the engineer started to devour Archer's willing body. This was proof that Trip had totally recovered from the ravages of the desert because the engineer was using every ounce of his energy, which was considerable, to kiss, lick and nibble on every inch of skin that he could get to.

Realizing that Trip needed to do this, needed to be the one in control this time, Archer just closed his eyes and let himself go. He sighed when Trip's tongue swirled around his left nipple, then his sigh turned into a moan when Trip wrapped his lips around said nipple and started to suck. Then his moans migrated into outright groans when Trip applied the same procedure down below.

John opened his eyes and locked onto the delectable sight of Trip Tucker's head bobbing up and down on his cock. Archer had always dreamed of Trip giving him a blow job, but he never really thought they'd come true, or that the reality of the act would far surpass his wildest imaginations. John felt his balls begin to tighten. "Trip..." If the engineer didn't stop now the evening was going to be over far too soon.

Trip understood the warning and pulled his mouth off of John's cock. Then Trip stepped back from John a little, and started a slow, sensual striptease. John's eyes locked on every move as Trip slipped out of his clothes. When he finally finished both he and John were as aroused as they could possibly be.

Thoroughly enjoying being in charge, Trip looked around the room, deciding on how he wanted to be taken. Finally he simply took John by the hand and pulled him toward the table. Then Trip gently moved enough of the dishes to the floor, it wouldn't do to break any of Chef's fine china, to make room and then laid back on the table and spread himself wide, offering himself to Archer in every way possible.

John's heart lurched as he received Trip's unspoken gift. He reached for a nearby tub of butter for lube and wasted no time greasing up his cock, then he stuffed his butter coated fingers inside of Trip's willing crotch.

Trip gasped when the cool, slick butter slid against his hot hole and it wasn't long before Tucker was writhing and wiggling on the table, begging for more.

John obliged by inserting another finger, then another. Seeing that his lover was ready Archer threw the butter aside, then grabbed his cock, raised himself on his toes and started to gently stuff himself into Trip's chute.

Trip gasped when he felt the head of John's cock enter him. It hurt for a moment, but as Archer slowly pushed forward, the pain was replaced by an overwhelming pleasure.

Archer pushed in slowly. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Trip, but his cautiousness only proved to prolong Trip's agony. The engineer was writhing with erotic torture as Archer seemed to take forever to enter him. When he felt the tip of John's cock rub up against the sides of his channel shock waves of pleasure roared through Tucker's body.

It wasn't long before Trip felt himself stuffed full of Archer's cock. "Oh God, Johnny." Trip cried. "Stay here forever."

Archer laughed at that. He was pretty sure that Trip didn't literally mean what he said. "Are you sure that you don't want me to move?"

"No!" Trip realized that he had made a horrible mistake. "Move, please. I'm beggin' you."

"I thought so." John laughed and reached down to kiss Trip hard while his cock began to slide in and out of Trip's body.

Trip cried out as Archer's thrusts began to increase with intensity. Oh God. He had wanted this for so long, and so much. He wanted it to last forever, but his body wouldn't cooperate. He felt his cock stiffen up, and up until it grew rock hard. He reached out to grab it, but Archer knocked his hand away. The captain grabbed it himself and rocked his hand up and down, keeping time with his every shove in and out of Trip's body.

The dishes clattered as the table rocked with each thrust. Trip wrapped his legs around John's back and roughly shoved Archer deeper inside of him. He wanted to be as close as he could to John and the captain was happy to oblige. He thrust deep, held it for as long as possible before slowly pulling back, then roughly pushing in deep once again. Trip tossed his head from side to side, crying out his pleasure with each thrust. Fighting to hold on. To make this exotic torture last.

Finally it was just too much. With one final thrust Jonathan Archer pushed himself deep within Trip and began to let go. Trip cried out when he felt Johnny's seed begin to fill him, then he threw back his head and just let it happen. Trip erupted with a fury and intensity that he had never felt before, splattering the leftovers on the table with his come.

When it was over the two men just lay there for a moment, giving themselves time to recover. "Wow." Trip said. "I thought our time in the desert was good, but it doesn't compare at all with this."

"That's because this time you're healthy, thank God." John kissed Trip briefly before pulling himself out of the engineer. Trip sat up gingerly and winced when his bottom brushed against the hardness of the table. "Sore?" Archer asked him.

"A little." Trip admitted, then he kicked his legs around the captain and pulled Archer in for another hug. "But it's a good kinda sore."

"I'm glad." John held tight. "Oh, baby." Trip heard Archer whisper in his ear. "I love you so much."

Trip pulled back a little so he could look his love straight in the eye. "I love you too, Jonathan Archer."

As John held Trip tight he felt the last vestiges of their trauma in the desert leave him forever. Archer didn't know what the future was going to bring, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered except for the fact that Trip loved him. For the first time in a long time Jonathan Archer was content.