The BLTS Archive - Friday by Macx (macx@nexgo.de) --- Spoilers: none at all Archive: Sure! Feedback: empty inbox seeks emails! Disclaimer: Don't own a single one of ‘em. All Paramount's. Author's Voice of Warning (aka Author's Note): English is not my first language; it's German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are..... -- He didn't know what had woken him. There was a moment of confusion, then he blinked heavy eyes open, gazing sleepily around the dark room. Only the faint morning light coming through the half open window illuminated the bedroom. There was the soft sound of rain against the windows, which meant the weather forecast had been right for once. But it was a soothing sound, nothing to really wake him. Faint light. Morning. Already? He blinked again. And then he became aware of the warm, heavy weight next to him. For a moment he felt alarmed at the unexpected presence. He rolled around and felt the weight shift. Dark hair, tousled, could be seen. "Y're home. . . " A soft murmur could be heard. Damn, he had spoken out loud. Well, not loud, but he had voiced his thoughts out of utter surprise. "Trip?" "Sorry. Din't mean t'wake you." "Didn't," came the soft reply. Yeah. Right. "Home already?" he asked, still perplexed. His brain was not yet working all that properly. "Hmn. Yes." Dawn, Tucker thought fuzzily. Shit. Almost time for Malcolm to get up and go to work. If he remembered correctly, there was a last team meeting scheduled. "Friday, Trip," Reed mumbled as if reading his thoughts. Friday. Friday! Trip felt something inside of him relax as his braincells fired up some reserves. Friday meant a long weekend, time for themselves, time to be together and not just see each other while they were dressing hurriedly. If they even got up at the same time. With their current schedules, that was even rarer. Friday. September 1st. Which meant that tonight, they'd celebrate into Saturday. . . Malcolm's birthday. Trip curled closer to his partner and wrapped an arm around the slender form. "Friday," he sighed, satisfied. Malcolm chuckled tiredly. Very tired. Exhausted, probably. "When did y'come home last night?" he asked, snuggling closer. "This morning." Trip squinted over Malcolm's shoulders at the clock. It was just past five. "Early?" "Late." Poor guy. "But it's still Friday, right? Our Friday?" A chuckle. "Yes, luv. It still is." "Good." "Or what?" "Huh?" "I heard an 'or else'," Malcolm mumbled into the crook of Trip's neck. "Or I'd have chained you to bed." "Kinky." Trip smiled, tightening his hug. "Time for that later. Sleep now." "With you that close?" "Want me closer?" "Wish I could." "Romantic." "Uh-huh." Malcolm sighed warmly and rubbed his head slightly against Trip's shoulder. Tucker smiled and closed his eyes, sinking into his lover's presence. They had been together for five years on Enterprise, for another after the mission had been over and the crew had gone new ways. Some were still in space, serving on the next starship to go where Enterprise had gone. But not them. There had been offers, of course, but Trip, while he had been happy to be a Commander, had never aspired to more than what he had always been: the chief engineer of the first warp 5 vessel. And Malcolm. . . . Malcolm was a damn fine armory officer, but his love for weapons didn't let him have dreams of greatness. He had served his time, and then made his own way. A Lieutenant Commander, now a Commander. Recently promoted. Trip was damn proud of his partner. And like Trip he had voted to stay on Earth. It meant they had more time together; not daily, but altogether. If one had decided to leave with the new ships, Trip was sure the loneliness would have killed them. Now Tucker was teaching young engineers and engineer-wanna-be's – when he wasn't working on the warp drive. Smaller, faster, longer-lasting. And Malcolm had gone into weapon system development. He was doing great and his expertise was incredible. It was also renowned – which was why he was sometimes away for weeks, coming home, dead on his feet but happy with the results. Malcolm's breathing evened out and Trip lightly kissed the soft hair. He had never thought that he would ever find the one to spend the rest of his life with. There had been so many women, but none had really touched what Malcolm Reed had – his soul. A place deep down inside him, something secret and vulnerable, something he had opened to only this one person. That the person in question was a man hadn't really shocked him that much. He had thought of Malcolm as a damn handsome man before; attractive, wonderful. . . just Malcolm. That they had found together was a miracle. . . that they were still together was indescribable. So lucky. So damn lucky. "Love you." A soft murmur answered him. Trip smiled. Friday. Their very own Friday-before-Malcolm's-birthday-on-Saturday-Friday. He had shuffled his own schedules to get this long weekend for them. They had a vacation planned in three months and he knew they would take it, come hell or high water, but the next three days were special. Very, very special. When they finally got up, it would be just for them. No schedule to keep, no teaching lessons, no seminars, no nothing. Just them. The two of us. A whole weekend. Long weekend. Not leaving the house. Shopped for every eventuality. Taking walks along the beach. Maybe call Jon. Haven't seen him since the last waterpolo match. Oh, and watch movies. Just us. Sounds great. Us. Us in bed. Trip grinned. Yup, that, too. Friday. He dozed off, Malcolm wrapped in his arms, close to him, his breath against his skin. --- Malcolm Reed stepped out from under the shower, feeling pleasantly relaxed. Just the thought of having a long weekend with his partner was enough to put an additional spring in his step. Slipping into a pair of old sweat pants and a t-shirt, he left the bedroom and walked into the kitchen. It was empty, but there was a mug on the counter, next to a plate with two scones. A post-it note was attached to the mug and a tea bag had been placed inside it. 'Add hot water'. Of course. What else? he thought fondly, but he did as he had been instructed. Carrying the plate with his breakfast and the tea, he walked out onto the terrace that had been converted into a conservatory. It was still raining, the soft patter of drops against the closed window panes the only sound. The sliding doors had been closed and indirect light illuminated the terra cotta tiled room. Rivulets of rain obstructed a clear view over the bay and there was a lot of fog anyway, but it just lent the whole atmosphere something mystical. What he had a clear view of was a vision of spiky, blond hair and glasses. Malcolm grinned around one scone as he raked appreciative eyes over the man he had so unexpectedly fallen in love with years before, a love he had fought for a long time, thinking of it as nothing but lust. He had been so wrong. It had been so much more and he counted himself a very lucky person to still hold that love, still be with Trip Tucker. Their relationship wasn't a secret, hadn't been since the time on Enterprise. Starfleet, while not exactly ecstatic, had done little to discourage them. The biggest problem had been of a couple serving on the same starship. Today, back on Earth, there were no problems at all. They worked on different projects, taught different classes, and Malcolm knew that Trip wasn't planning on hiring onto another starship any time in the near future. Neither was he. In the conservatory, Trip sat on the old, slightly battered couch he had brought along when they had moved into this house together. It was his favorite place to be: out here, overlooking the bay and the Golden Gate, snuggled into the couch and reading. Trip looked up and smiled warmly was Malcolm entered and placed his mug and remaining scone on the couch table. The homespun blanket Malcolm had been given last Christmas from Trip's mother was draped over Tucker's lithe form, and he looked very, very comfortable. "Hey there, sleepy head." "You could have woken me," Malcolm chastised softly as he slipped onto the couch next to his lover as Tucker removed the reading glasses. Malcolm had told him that there was laser surgery to correct any problems he had, but Trip claimed it gave his position as a teacher more credibility. "Nah. You looked so exhausted and I know you worked your butt off as of late. And this is our weekend. No alarm clocks, no meetings, no important calls, no nothing." Trip leaned over and placed a kiss on Reed's lips. "Just us, Mal. Just us." Malcolm smiled against the warm lips and settled against the muscular body, reaching for his tea and scones. His feet were propped up on the couch. "Sounds lovely." "Oh, it is." Trip leaned his head against Malcolm's, resting his cheek against the still slightly damp hair. "Hoshi called me yesterday." "Oh?" "She's plannin' a little anniversary get-together. In three months." "Okay." "Good." "Let me guess," Malcolm chuckled. "You already told her 'yes'." Trip smiled. "Yeah." The empty plate was placed on the table again and the last of the scones washed away with tea. Malcolm turned to look at his partner. "So, what have you planned for our weekend, Professor Tucker?" Trip grinned. "Nothin' special, Commander Reed. Just us. Do what we wanna do." Malcolm played with the silver ring he was wearing on his left ring finger. It wasn't a real wedding band, just a silver band with dark engravings. Celtic runes, Trip had explained to him. He had discovered the two matching rings in a small antique shop on shore leave a long, long time ago. It was the outward sign of their relationship. "We haven't done that in a very long time," Malcolm sighed. "Was about time." "I feel the same." Trip caught his hand and their fingers entwined. "Love you," he proclaimed softly. "I know we didn't have much time to ourselves lately, with all the work and stuff. . . " "I won't ever forget," Malcolm replied, voice equally soft. "Even if I do need a reminder just what it is like to make love to my partner. . . " A sly tone stole into his voice. Trip laughed and drew him closer, playfully kissing and nipping at the willing lips. "A reminder, huh? I think I can deliver that. . . " This time the kiss was longer, deeper, more serious, and Malcolm's hands grabbed a hold of his lover's shirt, holding him close. He maneuvered himself to sit on the thighs, never breaking the kiss. The warm hands sliding under the loose shirt made him shiver, his body starving for this kind of foreplay. Too long. Way too long. Too many odd hours and rarely any more physical contact than falling asleep next to his lover. He needed this weekend for more than just unwinding from work. He needed to it to reaffirm what they shared. "I love you, Malcolm Reed," Trip whispered, wet lips against his ear. "I love you." Clothes went flying as the rain increased, beating a staccato against the window panes. Neither man noticed or cared about it, lost in each other. --- Trip kissed his partner's nose and watched him as it twitched. Both men were pleasantly warm, wrapped up together on the old couch in the comforter. Malcolm's hair was just as wild and unruly as Trip's now. "Did you bite me?" Reed murmured lazily. Trip's gaze wandered to the passion mark and he smiled smugly. "Yep." "Thought as much." A short silence. "Any particular reason? Trip placed a little kiss on the tempting lips. "Nope." "Ah." The blond rested his forehead against his lover's. "You wanna go out for dinner or stay home?" "Who's cooking?" A chuckle. "I was hopin' t'find some of Mom's stew in the freezer." Malcolm burst out laughing, hugging him close. "Sounds lovely," he whispered. "Stew it is then. And if there's nothin' left, we order out. I'm not goin' t'leave these holy walls except for a walk along the beach or go down to the harbor." "I agree. Completely." They stayed on the couch, too lazy to get up. The rain had stopped a while ago, but the clouds hadn't parted to let the sun through. With night approaching, it was growing darker. Trip sighed in pleasure, eyes drawn to the hundresd of drops on the window panes, each glittering in the indirect illumination of the conservatory. Friday was a truly wonderful day. --- The End