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Part 6 of Heart on Fire
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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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2020-11-04
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Heart on Fire 6: At Times the Fool

Summary:

Fandom: Enterprise
Paring: Trip/Archer, Trip/Reed
Rating: PG
Status: new
Archive: yes to list archives
Series/Sequel: part 6 of the Heart on Fire series
Disclaimers: The more I watch this show the more I'm proud that I have nothing to do with its execution. I prefer to write slash and torment Malcolm as I see fit. So let the suffering begin.
Notes: Anybody remember this series? Sorry for the long, long break between parts, I can't even blame my crazy life for this one. I just wasn't feeling inspired to write any of these characters, but I hate to leave things unfinished so I forced myself to write this part. It's taken a much different turn than I planned originally, but I just don't think I can bring myself to slash Travis and Malcolm. Sorry.
Summary: Malcolm's POV during a run-in with Travis and a conversation with Trip.
Warnings: Spoilers for "Breaking the Ice", but only tiny ones. Barely even noticeable.
Submitted through the Makebelieve_YG mailing list.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Heart on Fire 6: At Times the Fool
by Caroline Crane

It's been three days since the last time I saw the Commander in...shall we say a social setting? certainly I wasn't expecting him to request that I spend the night, but in a way it was comforting to spend the night in his arms. I don't delude myself that he has feelings for me beyond friendship, nor do my feelings for him extend beyond affection for one of the few people I choose to let into my confidence. Still, it was a bit surprising to see the normally good-natured Commander looking so lost and vulnerable, so much so that even if I'd wanted to leave I wouldn't in good conscience have been able to.

I wonder how much longer Trip will be able to keep his feelings hidden from the Captain, or how long the Captain himself will keep quiet about his feelings for his best friend. Commander Tucker would never believe me if I told him but I've seen the way the Captain looks at him when he thinks Trip isn't looking. While it's certainly not obvious that the Captain is nursing a broken heart I recognize the signs, and part of me feels responsible for his heartbreak. I haven't missed the way he looks at me whenever the Commander and I find ourselves working together.

If I could sit the two of them down and force them to listen to reason I'd gladly give up the comfort I find in the Commander's arms from time to time. I am, after all, used to being on my own, even as a small child I spent most of my time entertaining myself. So I learned early in life how to cope with loneliness, and if it meant Trip and the Captain could find some happiness together I wouldn't stand in their way. Not when I know all too well that I can't offer the Commander what he needs, no more than he can fill the void in my life for longer than a few hours.

These are the thoughts that have been plaguing me since I sat down in the Mess Hall, a cup of tea forgotten in front of me as I stare out the porthole across from me and do my best to forget the source of my own heartbreak. My distraction over Travis has gone on far too long already, and with Captain Archer already casting somewhat dour looks my way I can ill afford to be distracted at my post. Especially when Travis is generally a mere ten feet away from me during most of the workday, that is when I don't manage to escape to the solitude of the armory.

My excuses for spending so much time alone with the ship's supply of firearms are beginning to wear a bit thin, however, and I fear that before long the bridge crew will begin to get a bit suspicious. It would be best for everyone if I simply forgot Travis, forgot his easy smile and the way he sets everyone at ease with his mere presence. The problem is that every time I attempt to work him out of my system I close my eyes and find him there again, his expression sheepish as I catch him trying out the Captain's chair or his grin a mile wide as he talks about growing up on board his father's freighter.

I am more than aware that there can never be a relationship between us, but that doesn't help me to forget his dark eyes or the fear etched in his features as we sat in that shuttle craft and waited for the Commander to pull us out of the comet to safety. I could have told him then, perhaps I should have swallowed my pride and let him know my feelings when I thought we were about to die. It would have been easier that way, certainly, and most likely the only time I'd be able to bring myself to say the words. I don't consider myself a coward by any means, pragmatic perhaps but I would never back down from a fight where my comrades were in danger. When it comes to matters of the heart, however...

I sigh and push the thought away before I can finish it, telling myself that dwelling isn't going to help me forget him. I look up, hoping to find something to distract me from thoughts of Travis, but as soon as my gaze lands on the entrance to the Mess Hall my heart stops and I feel all the color drain from my face. There he is, as though he heard me thinking about him from his quarters and came to give me a visual reminder of why he'll never be mine. I force my expression to go blank and avert my gaze, holding my breath as I wait for him to cross the room and join his friends. As soon as he does I can get up and make my escape, but I can't leave the room while he's still standing in the doorway. I can't make small talk with him right now or even exchange pleasantries, not without betraying something of my feelings.

Somehow I manage not to look up again until I sense someone approaching my table, and I steel myself for an ill-timed appearance by Doctor Phlox or perhaps the Commander. Instead I find myself staring into dark brown eyes, he's smiling at me but if I didn't know better I'd think he was a bit nervous. "Lieutenant," he says, and I realize for the first time that I'm staring back at him with my mouth slightly open. I snap my jaw shut and nod, I know he's expecting me to say something but I'm terrified of what will happen if I open my mouth again. When I don't answer him his shoulders fall so slightly that I nearly miss it, and he reaches for the chair across from mine. "May I?"

"Please," I manage to breathe, the sound of my own voice foreign to me as I watch Travis sit down across from me.

He smiles again and folds strong hands in front of him on the table, leaning toward me and causing my pulse to race. My heart begins to pound against my rib cage and I'm sure he'll be able to hear it, but if he does he's polite enough not to point it out. I keep my gaze fixed on those hands, studying the long fingers and the curve of his palms as they press together. I can feel his gaze on me, and although I'm dying to know what he wants I can't bring myself to ask.

"I hope I'm not speaking out of turn," he finally says, and I force myself to look up without quite meeting his gaze. "I know you're my superior and a member of the bridge crew but I'd like to think that we're friends, I mean we have been through a lot together already."

Friends...that is one word I never would have chosen to describe Ensign Mayweather and myself. Still, his youth and enthusiasm give him license to use that term more freely than I ever would, so I suppose on some level he really does consider me a friend. I have no idea whether I should find that comforting or disappointing, but I find myself thankful that he thinks of me at all. It's more than I hoped for, after all, and while it doesn't give me false hope it's comforting in its own way. "Please," I answer, finally forcing myself to meet his gaze. My breath catches in my throat at the hopeful expression on his face and I swallow against the sudden tightness in my chest, praying that my expression doesn't betray all the emotions rolling through me in that moment. "Feel free to speak to me about anything you like. As a friend."

He smiles again and it lights up his entire face, and suddenly I find myself wondering if I'll survive this conversation at all. I force myself to focus on his words and not the way he's looking at me or the idea of what those hands would feel like on my skin. "Well, I was just wondering...I mean I've heard around the ship that you and the Commander...well, that you've been seeing each other. I was just wondering if it's serious."

My heart skips a beat and I know I don't have a prayer of keeping my reaction out of my eyes, so I look away and do my best to compose myself before answering. I'd like to think that I'm not so foolish as to get my hopes up where he's concerned, I've managed so far but then he's never expressed any sort of interest in another man before.

"The Commander and I have spent some time together," I answer slowly, choosing my words as carefully as possible in an effort to keep my voice even.

"So it's not serious?" he presses, looking for all the world like an innocent child as he leans a little further across the table and drops his voice. "Because I just figured you'd be into commitment. I mean I could see Trip playing the field. I guess it just doesn't seem like you two make sense together."

I have no idea what to make of his interest in my association with the Commander - they are friends, after all, certainly closer friends than he and I. So that can only mean that he's interested in one of us, and I am unwilling to believe that he could be asking out of interest in me. There's no good way to answer his question, however, not without telling him at least part of the truth and it's not my place to betray Trip's confidence. "The Commander has been a good friend," I finally answer, "although I am as surprised as you and most likely the rest of the crew to realize we have as much in common as we do."

"Huh." He shifts in his chair and it's an effort not to reach out and touch him, just for a second to ghost my fingers across soft, dark skin and watch the reaction in his eyes. When he looks up again he smiles in an endearingly sheepish way, and I curse my weak heart for betraying me yet again. "Sorry, I mean I don't have a problem with it or anything. Growing up on freighters the men outnumbered the women by almost four to one, and I kinda figured you...well it's just that we all thought Trip and the Captain kinda had a thing going."

"If you're interested in Commander Tucker's social calendar I bloody well suggest that you ask him." I swallow against the sudden rush of anger and humiliation that floods my senses, acutely aware that I've failed in my effort to keep from betraying my emotions. I can't bring myself to care, though, not when he's sitting there calmly looking at me as though it's the most natural thing in the world to ask the Commander's lovers about his personal life.

It's not until I've made my way out of the Mess Hall and halfway to my quarters that I begin to wonder if perhaps I was a bit too hasty - there are, after all, several reasons Travis could have been curious about my involvement with the Commander. Perhaps he was asking as a concerned friend that truly didn't see the logic of Trip and myself in a relationship of any kind. Perhaps he was even concerned that I would get my heart broken, but that's as far as I allow my imagination to carry me. I can't let myself think that he could have been asking out of a different kind of interest in me, as much as the thought excites and terrifies me I know it's just not possible.

How could someone like Ensign Mayweather have any interest in me? He's certainly friendly, but it's his nature to be open and friendly to everyone he meets. His passion for space exploration has led him to lock horns with the Captain once or twice as well, and I can't help admiring a man that would stand by his own convictions even in the face of Starfleet regulations. As unlikely as it is that someone like me would have developed an affection for Travis there it is, and regrettably I am at a loss as to how to forget my feelings and move on.

By the time I reach my quarters I'm regretting my hasty departure and the sharp words I spoke to him, after all he asked permission to speak freely and I granted it. It is possible I misunderstood his intentions as well, and the very least I could do is offer him an apology. For a moment I consider returning to the Mess Hall to speak to him, but I know I'd be doing it more in an effort to find out the real reason for his interest in my relationship with Trip. The thought of betraying my own feelings toward him is too much, however, and in the end I decide to put off apologizing until I see him again. By now he's most likely joined his contemporaries, after all, and it wouldn't do for me to seek him out while he's surrounded by his friends.

My door chimes as I'm removing my uniform and I freeze for a moment, my heart stilling in my chest as I wonder if he's followed me. I have to force my legs to carry me to the door, disabling the privacy lock and letting it slide open. When I find myself looking not at Travis but at the Commander I remember to breathe, part of me relieved that Travis hasn't followed me to pursue the conversation I ended and the rest of me wishing Trip had better timing. "Commander," I say, straightening my posture automatically in case he's here in an official capacity.

"Hey Malcolm," he answers, glancing over my shoulder into my quarters for a moment before he returns his attention to me. "Can we talk for a minute, or is this a bad time?"

For a moment I consider telling him that it is indeed a bad time, that I'd rather put off any conversation until I can better reign in my emotions. He is perhaps the only person on the ship that understands my situation, however, and he has been there for me without question. So I nod and step aside to let him in, closing the door behind him and following him toward the center of my quarters. "Is something wrong, Trip?" I ask, reverting to the informality I've slowly begun to grow comfortable with in the past few weeks.

He turns to face me again and I can see the pain etched in his features, obviously he's been struggling with his own heartache more than usual. I can see that he's miserable and I know that whatever he needs I'll give him, but for the first time since we became involved I find myself hoping that he doesn't want to stay.

"You're a good man, Malcolm," he says, and I feel some of the tension leave me as I realize he actually wants to talk about something. He does seem more distracted than usual, and I can't help wondering if something has happened with the Captain.

"Thank you," I say, more to fill the silence than because I think he wants an answer. "I must admit I've enjoyed our friendship more than I expected to as well."

He smiles then, for a moment the Trip he shows the world at large peering through the misery he only lets surface when he's with someone he can trust. "I mean it, Malcolm, you've been there for me and I really appreciate it. I hope we can be friends wherever our careers take us."

"Has something happened?" I ask, frowning as I catch the finality in his words. Suddenly I find myself wondering if one of us will be leaving the Enterprise earlier than planned, it is in the Captain's power to make that happen and I have no idea if the man would allow his personal feelings to cloud his judgement to that extent. "Is it Captain Archer?"

"I'd like to continue to be your friend," he says, meeting my gaze for a moment before he looks away again. "But I don't think we should sleep together anymore. I don't know that it matters to Jon, but I can't take it anymore. I'm gonna tell him the truth."

I don't bother trying to disguise my shock, I never thought Trip would be the one to break first. He's told me in bits and pieces of conversation that he's been in love with Captain Archer for years, practically since they first met. The fact that he's been able to hide it all this time made me think he'd never confess his feelings, if anything I thought the Captain himself would be the first to crack. Still, as selfish as it may seem thinking about Trip's problems provides me with a welcome distraction from my own, if only for a few moments. "I think you'll be surprised by his reaction," I say, my voice quiet but strong so he won't find a way to misconstrue my meaning.

Instead of arguing with me he only smiles wistfully and shakes his head. "That thing you think you're seeing in him is just his idea of friendship," he assures me with a certainty brought on by years of living with unrequited feelings. "I've had this conversation before, and there was a time when I wanted it to be true so much that I actually believed it. But I offered once and he turned me down, so I know what will happen this time. I can't keep quiet about it, though, not if I don't want to accidentally blow up the ship. And it's not like he's exactly speaking to me anyway so I can't make things any worse than they already are."

I feel my eyebrows raise at that last part but I don't ask when they stopped speaking to one another, nor do I ask for more details on his first proposition to his best friend. Instead I nod and smile sympathetically, allowing myself a step forward and a brief moment to lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I understand, Trip. You're right, this is most likely for the best. If you need someone to talk to you know where to find me."

"Thanks, Malcolm." He smiles again and turns toward the door, and as I watch him go I can't help hoping that he's wrong. At least one of us should have a happy ending, after all, and I know I haven't imagined everything I've seen in the Captain's eyes since we got involved. Perhaps it's childish of me to hope for a romantic ending for the two of them, but I like to think that even in an otherwise hostile world there is some happiness to be found. I don't expect to find that happiness myself, but I'm not as brave when it comes to affairs of the heart as the Commander.

The End

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author Caroline Crane.
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