The BLTS Archive - Confession
Second in the Awakening seriess
by Beverly Crusher (bev_crusher1971@yahoo.de)

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Spoilers: Shuttlepod One

Comments: Feedback. pleeeeeaaaaaase. that's what truly makes my day
and encourages me to go on writing.

Beta reader(s): Mareel, she did a fantastic job. Without her this
would be a comma-mess. believe me.

Archived to the Web site on 07/31/2003.  Archived at EntSTCommunity
with the author's express permission.

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"I guess we need to talk!"

"No good conversation ever started with `we need to talk."

"Then maybe we can change that!"

Fragments of last night. Reality? Fantasies? He didn't know. He didn't
care.

Malcolm had left sickbay just a few minutes ago. Though he had a
direct order from Dr.Phlox to go straight to his quarters, lie down
again and rest for at least another 24 hours, he was walking straight
to the armory.

He desperately needed the beneficial presence of his weapons systems
where everything was so simple.

You hit a switch and something goes kaboom.

Simple.

Easy.

And exactly what he longed for right now.

His innermost feelings were in a terrible mess and he craved something
reliable. Something steady. Ignoring the beginnings of a headache, he
entered the armory.

Five hours later his headache became unbearable. He had gone over
every single system in his reach, run several simulations and tested
at least four of the new phasers. Now he felt worn out, hungry as a
wolf, and deadly tired. His head hurt like hell and his hands had
begun to shake. He slowly rose from his kneeling position and suddenly
felt the world spin around him. He cursed silently and tried to steady
himself against the wall. Slowly, the world returned to its normal
orientation.

"Malc?"

Startled he jumped and turned around, feeling a hand on his shoulder.
Worried blue eyes were staring at him. Trip.

"Hey, there."

Malcolm gave his friend a tired smile.

"Shouldn't you be resting? You look terrible."

Trip laughed. "Now that's a compliment I can easily return. The Cap'n
sent me looking for ya."

Trip became serious again.

"He did?" Malcolm rubbed his neck in an unsuccessful attempt to ease
his headache.

"Yep. Worries bout you. Says you left sickbay hours ago and never made
it up to your quarters."

"Yes, well...I..."

"Nah...no excuses. Cme on...he wants to see you."

On the way to the turbolift, Trip glanced at Malcolm over his
shoulder.

"Do you want to change your clothes? I mean...before going to see Jon?
We could stop by your quarters...?"

Surprised, Malcolm looked at his friend, walking next to him.

"Why should I want that? Is it formal?"

"No, not really." Trip smiled lightly and continued.

"But let me tell you, you really should go to bed early tonight. You
DO look terrible."

Before Malcolm could reply, they arrived at the Captains quarters.

"Come in!"

The Captain sounded cheerful when Trip hit the door switch. His friend
patted Malcolm lightly on the back and left for his own quarters as
the door opened revealing Malcolm's presence to his Captain. Jon stood
by the viewport, a glass of red wine in his hand. He was out of
uniform and wore a black shirt and black skintight jeans. Malcolm
could have easily gotten lost in that sight.

Then his eyes wandered from Jon to the laid table.

Laid for two.

Candles were lit, spreading a warm glow. The lights were dimmed. Jon
turned to him and smiled.

"Malcolm, come in."

Malcolm swallowed hard and entered the room. He felt so foolish. He
shouldn't have come here. Obviously the Captain was expecting someone
for dinner. He should have gone to his quarters just as Dr. Phlox had
told him to do. He could be sleeping by now or if not, he could at
least pretend to be sleeping. And his head was killing him.

"Captain Archer. Sir, I'm sorry for interrupting. I really should go.
You seem to be expecting someone, sir."

He dropped his gaze to the floor and missed the tender smile that
crept across Jon's features.

Jon picked up a second glass of wine and walked over to the man who
stood in his doorway.

He gently put the glass under Malcolm's chin lifting his head until the
English man was looking him in the eye.

"Yes, I was indeed expecting someone. But not any longer. For that
someone has just arrived."

Malcolm's eyes grew wide.

Jon laughed at that and gave him the glass of wine. Then he raised his
own and the glasses clinked together softly.

"To the friends we love." Jon said with a sparkle in his eyes.

"To the friends we love." repeated Malcolm huskily.

"Come on. Lets honour Chefs efforts to make this dinner." Jon gestured
to the table and they both sat down. Malcolm smiled when he saw the
varieties of food on the table.

"How many people were you expecting, Captain?"

In an instant Jon became serious again.

"Please, don't do that to me, Malcolm," he said in a low voice.

"Don't do what, Sir?" Malcolm asked, bemused.

"That. I'm not `Sir in here or `Captain. Do you remember last night?
You called me Jon. And I liked it."

Malcolm smiled his heartbreaking little smile.

"I'm sorry ... Jon. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Jon's face lit up when he heard his name spoken with that beguiling
English accent. Malcolm noticed this change, and continued.

"I also remember that you told me we needed to talk."

If only he could think clearly. His headache was becoming worse every
second.

"Yes, we do. But to be honest, I don't know where to start." Jon
admitted. "Last night in sickbay...I want you to know that I meant
every word I said."

Lost in thought he took Malcolm's hand and softly stroked the back of
it.

"I could have lost you so easily. We wouldn't be sitting here. We
COULDN'T. And I..."

His voice broke off. Malcolm realized what Jon didn't dare to say. It
had been a matter of seconds...well not literally, but nearly. They
had only had air left for another 90 minutes. And then...?

Gone.

Jon still held Malcolm's hand in his own and this time Malcolm squeezed
it gently.

"But I am here. And you ARE here. Alive and healthy."

It was still nearly impossible for Malcolm to manage a clear thought
but he had to know.

"Jon, there...there is something I was wondering about all day. Last
night, well, I must have been a little confused from all the
medication Dr. Phlox gave me. You were there, weren't you?"

Jon nodded, a questioning look in his green eyes.

"And when I had that...dream...you put your hands on my shoulders,
right?"

Another nod.

"Did you..." Malcolm's voice trailed away and he felt himself blush
furiously.

A knowing look appeared in Jon's eyes, but he knew that now he had to
let Malcolm take the lead.

"Did I what?" he asked calmly.

"...kiss me?" Malcolm whispered, his voice barely audible.

There was a long silence. Finally Jon nodded slowly.

"Yes, I did. And as I said earlier, I meant everything I said AND did.
Though it was a mistake."

Malcolm's head snapped up and he wanted to withdraw his hand. But Jon
tightened his grip.

"No, don't. Let me finish what I have to say. I don't regret the kiss.
On the contrary. But as you said yourself, you were under medication.
I took advantage of the situation. I'm your superior officer. I should
have waited till you were at least awake. I just wasn't sure if I ever
would have the courage again."

This time it was Jon's voice that became lower and lower.

Silence.

Malcolm felt the pounding in his head slowly creep away. He raised his
left hand and gently stroked Jon's cheek. With closed eyes Jon leaned
into the touch.

"Is it permitted for a subordinate to take ... advantage of a
situation?" Malcolm asked quietly.

Jon nodded without opening his eyes.

"Jon. Will you look at me, please?"

Jon marvelled at his words. Oh, that accent. It sent a shiver down his
spine.

Reluctantly he opened his eyes. Malcolm's face was but a few inches
away from his.

"Jon. You meant what you said. You kissed me and you liked it. I liked
it too. And there is nothing on this ship right now that I would
rather do than... than to kiss you again."

Without hesitation he closed the gap between his captain and himself
and kissed him tenderly. Time froze and for one terrible second
Malcolm feared a total misunderstanding. And then he felt Jon kissing
him back. Softly, tenderly and with an emotion that made him melt
away. After what seemed an eternity he withdraw a bit and looked him
in the eyes.

And yawned.

Jon burst out in laughter. "Oh my god, you must be deadly tired."

Slowly Malcolm nodded, but smiled with a wry smile. "I believe a
coffee would do nicely now."

"Sure! Good idea."

Jon jumped up and poured two cups. He handed one to Malcolm and
together they moved to the couch in the corner.

They sat in companionable silence, sipping the hot coffee. With a sigh
Malcolm relaxed and leaned back.

He was so tired. His head was a little lighter now but far from being
good. He closed his eyes. Only for a second he told himself. He
searched for Jon's hand and held it to his heart. He didn't want to miss
a single moment with Jon.

It lasted exactly eight seconds before Malcolm was in deep sleep.

Jon carefully took his cup before it hit the floor. Then he put his
arm around the man sitting next to him and gently pulled him down so
Malcolm was resting against him.

Smiling he watched the face of his armory officer. Dark circles under
Malcolm's eyes made his face older. He frowned in sleep. Jon gently
stroked over the forehead until the younger man relaxed. He softly
laid his hand on Malcolm's chest and felt the steady rhythm of the
heart under his palm.

With a bright smile Jon snuggled closer to Malcolm's sleeping form and
closed his own eyes as well.

Yes, he thought to himself, already drifting off into slumber, he
could definitely get used to this.

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The End