The BLTS Archive - Worthless
#15: Passeggiata
by miera (mierac72@yahoo.com)

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Archive: Ask first

Sequel to: "Undiminished," "Convenience" and "Overdue"

Beta: none. This is all my fault.

Spoilers: nothing past season three general knowledge

Disclaimer: These folks here belong to Paramount. More's the pity.

Author's Notes: This ties up the "Worthless" Series available on
coffeeslash. Set after "Overdue." Also includes passing references to
events in "Worthless," "Undiminshed," and "Convenience."

---

"Trip? Are you alright?" The engineer was practically vibrating around
Malcolm's quarters, wandering from point to point restlessly. Trip had
appeared at Malcolm's door unexpectedly, just after Malcolm returned
from an early evening workout. Now that all the major damage the
Armory had incurred during the mission in the Expanse had been
repaired, Malcolm felt justified in settling into a routine that only
lasted 10 hours a day, rather than 12 or 14.

"I. . . " Trip ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know. I'm so
jittery. I can't sit still."

Malcolm hadn't heard of any crises occurring in Engineering that day.
He deposited himself in his desk chair, suppressing a small grunt as
his back twinged. "What happened?"

Trip shook his head. "Nothing."

"Trip."

"Nothing happened, specifically. I just don't really know what to do
with myself." He stopped midway through his second peregrination
around the room. "I have nothing to do."

Malcolm's jaw dropped. "Nothing?"

"Well," Trip hedged. "I mean, there's always something, right? But
nothing urgent. Nothing that has to be done right now." He looked down
at his hands, as though not used to seeing them empty. He balled his
hands into fists and absently started pounding one fist into the
other. "I can't remember the last time. . . " He trailed off and
resumed wandering the room.

Malcolm sighed, closing his eyes momentarily. He knew exactly what
Trip was feeling. This was the first time since the Xindi attacked
Earth that Trip didn't have the aftermath of the attack and their
mission hanging over him. Months of constant uproar suddenly dropped
away to the near-silence of Jupiter Station, retrofitting schedules,
and mundane details.

He'd confronted this moment of vertigo a few weeks ago. It was
strange, feeling loss over something no one should miss. Too much
work, too much stress, too much of everything, and when it ended, when
the crisis was over and you suddenly realized life could go on, there
was almost a hole where the crisis had been.

Trip was still vacillating around the room. "Trip, for heaven's sake,
sit down. You're making me dizzy."

He started a little, then sat down on the edge of the bed. Malcolm
hesitated for a moment. "When was the last time you left the ship?"

Trip shrugged. "A couple weeks, I guess. The retrofit's been taking up
a lot of time."

Malcolm stood up. "Look, just wait here for five minutes. I'm going to
shower, and then let's take a walk."

"A walk?" Trip looked up at him, confused.

Malcolm ignored him and grabbed some clean clothes. "Yes, Trip. A
walk. A stroll. A hike. La passeggiata. Where you get up and let your
legs carry you around a while." He glanced at Trip's uniform
critically. "Actually, while I'm showering, go put on some regular
clothes, will you."

Malcolm half expected Trip to ask more questions, but the other man
just got up. "OK. I'll be back in a few minutes." He left and Malcolm
shook his head. Trip must be very bored if he was simply accepting
Malcolm's orders with no protest.

---

The upper levels of Jupiter Station were deserted, not surprising
given the hour. Trip had returned promptly to Malcolm's quarters, and
the two of them, dressed in jeans and long sleeve shirts, walked from
Enterprise into the Station. Trip didn't ask where they were headed,
instead following Malcolm's subtle lead. They headed away from the
more populous areas of the station towards the corridors winding up to
the top levels.

The upper levels of the station were administrative offices, which
were of course dark and silent late at night. The sound of their soft
footsteps echoed. Both of them had been quiet during the early part of
their stroll, while they were still passing people on the lower
levels. Now, though, the silence was becoming obvious. Malcolm racked
his brain for a way to start the conversation. Fortunately Trip saved
him the trouble.

"So, what're we doing wandering around a bunch of deserted offices in
the middle of the night?"

"Technically it's not the middle of the night yet," Malcolm pointed
out. Trip flashed him a glare. "You seemed desperate to pace and
watching you carom around my quarters was making my head spin."

He meant it as a lighthearted quip. Trip nodded. "I'll admit, it's a
little easier to stretch my legs when I'm not worried about tripping
over a bulkhead."

They walked a little farther. "Alright, I told you my reasons. Your
turn."

Trip frowned, not angry but as if trying to figure out what to say.
"Hell, I'm not even sure, Malcolm."

Long years of practice in avoiding talking about himself and his past
had taught Malcolm that most people would simply start speaking in
order to fill what they perceived as an awkward silence. Trip was no
different. Malcolm held his peace and waited. Finally, as he expected,
Trip began to ramble.

"I don't know. I was in Engineering and I finished working on the
injector assemblies, and I'd been thinking for the last few days that
once we got those done I could let everyone take a break because
everything else we had to do was more minor, cosmetic stuff." Malcolm
noted silently that Trip began walking a little faster as he talked.
"I went into my office and read the repair schedules over and over and
all my people and the technicians were all winding up and calling it a
day. And I sat there looking for something else to do."

Trip shook his head at himself. "I felt like I had to keep working.
Like I couldn't stop. I was almost panicking."

"When was the last time you had a day off?"

There was a long pause. "I honestly don't remember. Before the Xindi
attack maybe?"

Trip meant it as a joke, but Malcolm's forehead creased and his face
darkened.

"What?" When Malcolm didn't answer right away, Trip stopped. "What,
Malcolm?"

Malcolm looked at him warily. "Last time I tried to say something
insightful to you that you didn't want to hear, you took my head off
and waited months to apologize," he pointed out.

Trip grinned, a bit ruefully. "OK, point taken. I'll be good, I
promise."

Malcolm resumed walking. "You of all people should understand the fact
that even when things happen quickly, we live through them slowly."

Trip's jaw clenched, just briefly. "Yeah."

"So many things have happened, to us all. And they were all so fast. .
. " Malcolm cursed silently at the small lump forming in his throat.
Before he could steady his voice, Trip finished his thought.

"There was no time."

"No."

Trip sighed. "So now. . . "

"Now there's time, and you don't want it."

Trip's head snapped towards Malcolm, defensive reflexes kicking in,
but he didn't say anything. Malcolm could practically see Trip holding
himself back, forcing himself to consider Malcolm's words before he
answered.

They kept walking until they arrived at the viewport on the uppermost
level of the station and stopped in unison to take in the sight of
Jupiter and her moons, and the rest of space beyond them. Malcolm
waited in silence.

"There's so much." Trip's voice was hushed, even though they hadn't
seen anyone for several floors. He could've been talking about the
immense field of stars stretched out before them, but he wasn't. "I
don't even know where to start."

Malcolm put a comforting hand on Trip's shoulder. "It's not an
engineering problem, Trip. You can't figure out a method for this."

Trip turned his head, a lopsided grin on his face. "Hey I could try.
Make up a blueprint maybe."

Malcolm shook his head, withdrawing his hand.

"You think I should go home, don't you?"

Malcolm shrugged. "Apparently you think so, or you wouldn't have said
it."

Trip slumped against the window, whining at the reflexivity.
"Malcolm."

"Alright, alright." He mirrored Trip's posture, the two of them facing
each other. "Everyone, even I, went home for an extended period of
time after we got back. I'm surprised so many of them came back. But
you were home for what? A few days? Then you insisted on coming back
here, on personally supervising all of the retrofitting yourself. Even
I wasn't that paranoid."

Trip chuckled. "Yeah but you did come back, didn't you? Just had to be
here to make sure your precious Armory was being taken care of
properly."

Malcolm snorted. "I was worried you were going to challenge my
reputation for obsessive behavior." He looked out at the stars again.
"And I did leave for a while. And-" he fixed Trip with a challenging
look, "I don't even like my parents much."

Trip looked away. "My mom was upset that I wasn't staying longer. I
told her I had to be here to work. I think she knew I was lying."
Malcolm said nothing again. "I couldn't stand being there. It was just
too much to deal with," Trip finally blurted.

"So you ran," Malcolm couldn't help the bitter tone of his voice. It
was Trip's modus operandi, after all, to run when confronted by
something he couldn't handle. Anger flared in Trip's eyes. Malcolm
cursed silently and rubbed his face with his hand. "I'm sorry, I
didn't mean it."

"Didn't mean it or didn't mean to say it aloud?" Trip was annoyed but
it was mixed with a hint of amusement.

Malcolm decided he might as well keep going now. "Look, Trip, I'm not
saying this as though I'm without flaws myself, but you do tend to. .
.  withdraw when you get overwhelmed." Malcolm felt his cheeks
starting to burn, numerous memories of seeing Trip turn his back and
walk away crossing his mind in rapid succession.

Trip looked somewhat abashed. "Yeah, you would know that, wouldn't
you."

The shame in his face hurt Malcolm. His intention wasn't to guilt-trip
his friend for the things that had happened (and not happened) between
them over the past four years, puns notwithstanding. Malcolm turned
back to the point he'd been trying to make. "You also buried yourself
in our mission in the Expanse to avoid dealing with your grief over
your sister, and you told me yourself it didn't work."

He nodded. "And you think that's what I'm doing again."

"As I said before, you said it, not me." His mouth quirked in a tiny
smile, and he was relieved when Trip answered it with one of his own.

They were silent together for a moment. Then Trip looked at him
hesitantly. "Malcolm? Promise me something?"

He nodded.

"Keep telling me the truth? Even when I don't want to hear it. No
matter how much of a bastard I am to you about it. OK?"

Malcolm smiled. "You have a deal, Mr. Tucker."

He held out his hand and Trip took it, and pulled Malcolm into a
one-armed hug. He felt, for the first time in a long time, as if
everything was back in balance.

They let go, grinning a little goofily at each other, and turned to
head back to the lower levels.

"So when will you be leaving?" Malcolm asked with feigned casualness.

"Hey, just because you tell me what to do doesn't mean I'll jump right
up and do it," Trip said with mock severity. "Come on, Lootenant," he
drawled Malcolm's rank out deliberately. "I'll buy you a beer. I'll
even have them warm it up for you."

Malcolm looked at Trip and it occurred to him that if he was lucky,
this blonde-haired, blue-eyed, brilliant, impulsive, short-tempered,
heart on his sleeve, pain in the ass of a man would be his friend for
the rest of his life.

It wasn't everything. But it was enough.

For now, at least.

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The End