Title: Doppelganger
By: Kylie Lee
Pairing: Tucker/Reed
Fandom: Star Trek Enterprise
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: nx_01hreod asked for Tu/R, Mirror Universe with Major Reed, angst and as happy an ending as possible!
Beta: Sarah and Kathy Rose, with thanks!
Spoilers: This ep takes place in the Delphic Expanse during Season 3 sometime after 2.26 "The Expanse" and before 3.24 "Zero Hour." This story will spoil future ep 4.18–4.19 "In A Mirror, Darkly."
AN: This is Mirror Universe going the other way, but I hope it works!
Summary: While Enterprise undergoes repairs in the Delphic Expanse, Reed finds himself the target of a sinister double with unclear motives.

***

PART 1

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed crossed his arms as he paced, surveying his team's work. "Not bad. It'll do," he said critically.

His grudging praise made a MACO turn away to hide a smile, and Reed frowned. He couldn't get used to the MACOs. In fact, he was fairly sure that their presence wasn't required on board ship, but the decision had been made by the higher-ups, against Reed's formal objections. They were peaceful explorers, not soldiers, and although Reed was as concerned with security as Captain Jonathan Archer—more so, to be honest, Reed thought to himself—a completely different group on board ship, with a completely different chain of command, was not the way to go. The fact that they were at war with the aliens who had cut a swath on Earth from Florida to Venezuela made teamwork all the more important, in Reed's view. It certainly didn't help that the de facto leader of the MACOs, Major Hayes, was an arrogant bastard, General Casey's assurances regarding the preparedness of the MACOs notwithstanding.

"I'll have someone from engineering integrate this into the power system," he continued. He indicated two of his men. "Ford, Lee, cross-check the couplings. The rest of you can take a break."

"About time," one of the low-level security techs muttered, but he had the grace to look abashed when Reed glared at him.

"Just be sure to see Doctor Phlox first, to get your implants," Reed reminded them. He turned, just in time to see Trip Tucker and the ship's first officer, T'Pol, hurry by. "Commander Tucker!" Reed called to the chief engineer. "Subcommander T'Pol," he added, and he and T'Pol exchanged nods. "Just the man I want to see, if the subcommander can spare you. It's about the power boost for the transporter."

T'Pol inclined her head. "Of course. Commander, please find me when you're done."

"Sure thing." Tucker, looking harried, turned to Reed as T'Pol moved away. "You took care of the power supply problem?"

Reed, who felt as harried as Tucker looked, indicated the poles set in a rough circle off to one side of the huge cave they were using as their central base. "The poles are set and the power routed through a transducer. It should work. But I particularly wanted you to check it for safety before I initiate the test run."

"Good idea." Tucker took a look around and pointed. "Is that the control panel there?" When Reed inclined his head in assent, he said, "Lead on." The two men trooped to the wall of the cave, where Reed had jury-rigged a command area. "It's not like we'll be sending people down, just cargo." Tucker bent over the console and considered it. "Let's see." Reed watched him frown. He could see the faint red cut at the base of Tucker's skull where Doctor Phlox had placed the tracking implant. He rubbed his own cut absently. It still stung. They had been his idea, so crew members could be tracked in case they got lost in the maze of caves. Tucker continued, "This looks fine. Let me scan the hardware."

Reed followed a pace or two behind as Tucker began his scans. He was careful to stay out of Tucker's personal space, something he'd started doing ever since Tucker's sister, Elizabeth, had died a month or so ago in the Xindi attack. Tucker had grown distant and unapproachable. Reed missed their gym dates, informal as they had been, and their meals together. Tucker suddenly seemed unavailable, but it was more than just not being around. Tucker had also grown emotionally distant. He'd begun spending more time with T'Pol. Reed had even heard rumors that Tucker had been seen leaving T'Pol's quarters late at night. He'd been disturbed to hear that—more disturbed than he wanted to let on.

Reed tamped down that thought and focused on their predicament. It wasn't like he could do anything about those feelings. Tucker was his superior officer, after all. "Any word on the decompressions on board Enterprise?" he asked. They'd been so busy setting up camp on the planet that he'd almost forgotten about the reason they were here.

Tucker shook his head. "Nope. The captain checked in about twenty minutes ago. Travis stabilized the orbit. They won't be falling on top of us anytime soon. But they can't get life support online. They're all in EV suits up there."

Reed grimaced in sympathy. The EV suits were notoriously hot, bulky, and uncomfortable. "At least we found a planet with a breathable atmosphere. I'm sure we'll be on our way in just a few days." He tried for an injection of hope. "Are you feeling all right, sir?" he added as Tucker grimaced and pinched his nose.

"Fine." Tucker didn't look fine, but Reed knew better than to press him. He'd get no information from this new, distant Tucker. "Just a headache." Tucker turned to his scanner, suddenly very focused on its readouts. "For these couplings, I'd suggest a grade 3 link, not a grade 2. That'll help it avoid a surge."

Reed nodded and made a note. He'd have to requisition it from the ship. It would have to be brought down by shuttle, of course. Supplying the crew would become much easier when the cargo transporter was online.

"Other than that, good work." Tucker pocketed his scanner. This time, when he looked at Reed, it was the old, familiar Tucker again, and Reed felt a surge of hope as Tucker quirked a smile at him, even though it was obvious that Tucker was trying too hard. It seemed they'd have to start again with their hard-won camaraderie. "I'd have security on my team in engineering any day." He surveyed the cave, craning his head back to look up. The top was barely visible in the bad light, despite the light poles they'd rigged. "We've got power down here, so starting tomorrow, I'll be back on board, trying to figure out what's going on—why we can't sustain life support on Enterprise."

"It's this region of space. If we could clear it—" Reed trailed off, and Tucker nodded in agreement. The Delphic Expanse wreaked havoc on Enterprise's systems. Just clearing it would probably take care of most of their problems with the ship's systems.

"First things first. Let's focus on getting life support back on board Enterprise." Tucker rubbed the back of his neck absently. "This implant isn't doing my headache any good," he complained.

"If you require my assistance on board ship—" Reed began.

Tucker was already shaking his head. "The captain needs you here, keeping everything going here while we're on board Enterprise, trying to fix this mess." He indicated T'Pol with his eyes; she was in conference with a small cluster of crew members. "T'Pol does fine, but you know how it is."

Reed, remembering the rumors about Tucker and T'Pol, resisted the urge to ask, "No, how is it?" He contented himself with a noncommittal, "Of course, sir." He'd rather have the captain down on the barren rock they were calling a planet, with T'Pol handling the problems on board Enterprise caused by their foray into the Delphic Expanse. Still, he understood that the captain's priority was the ship, while the first officer's was traditionally to liaison with the crew—even if the first officer was a Vulcan with an overreliance on logic.

"At least we've got a lot of room here," Tucker continued, glancing around the huge chamber. "Have you had a problem with anyone wandering off?"

"The caves are extensive," Reed admitted. "Doctor Phlox is still chipping everyone." He rubbed the back of his neck, mirroring Tucker's gesture of a moment ago. He fancied he could feel the tracking microchip underneath the skin, but of course he couldn't. The small tracker would be absorbed by his body in about three weeks' time. By then, he fervently hoped, Enterprise would have regained life support and they would have resumed their mission in the Expanse. "Everyone's on guard," he added. "I've instituted a buddy system. I have several security personnel ready to do head counts at meals."

Tucker grinned. "Have you heard Chef complaining?"

Reed grinned back. The old Tucker was in there somewhere. He just needed time to grieve for Elizabeth. "I have indeed. You'd think cooking over fire had never been done before."

"Somehow, I think he'll manage." Tucker's smile faded as quickly as it had come. "T'Pol's trying to get my attention. Are we done here?"

"Yes. I'll upgrade the couplings and contact you so we can run a trial."

Tucker gave a half-wave. "Sounds good. This is a priority. We need to get supplies down here—bedrolls, canteens, food."

"Yes, sir."

Reed watched Tucker stride toward T'Pol without a backward glance. He really was oblivious of Reed's interest in him. Well, that was his own fault, wasn't it? First, he hadn't wanted to ruin their friendship. Then the Xindi attack had happened, and suddenly, he was too late. If the rumors were true, and if Tucker had turned to T'Pol—well, it didn't bear thinking about. If he were a betting man, he wouldn't place his money either way. He rather thought that things were currently platonic, but he also thought they probably wouldn't stay that way.

Reed sighed, then found Ford and Lee, who were running a diagnostic on the power interface. "Commander Tucker wants grade 3 couplings for the direct power lines," he ordered. "Please requisition them from the quartermaster and inform me when they're in place. We can't do a trial of the transporter system until it's done. And I don't need to tell you how much we need the cargo transporter online."

"No, sir." Lee looked confused. "I mean, yes, sir."

"Back to work," Reed ordered, just as his communicator chirped. He frowned as he flipped it open. He'd been interrupted continually today. This time, it was probably Archer with a request for a status report. "Reed," he snapped.

"Mr. Reed, there's a problem in one of the caves earmarked for sleeping quarters," an unfamiliar voice said through the heavy static that Reed had almost—but not quite—grown accustomed to. "Uh, white cave entrance, third turnoff to the right and then straight through."

Reed frowned. The voice, which seemed strangely familiar but which he couldn't immediately place, had a North American accent, but something seemed off.

"Just a minor altercation," the voice continued. "If you could, uh, come by yourself and break it up? I think your presence ought to do it."

MACOs versus security again? Reed wondered. Just what he needed—another scuffle. "On my way. Reed out." He got his bearings, then headed for a cave complex flagged with a daub of barely dry white paint over the entryway to distinguish it from the other caves that honeycombed the area. Two other cave complexes had been marked: blue and green. The rest of the honeycombs were off limits. The sheer number of caves meant that it was ridiculously easy to get turned around, so Reed had ordered paint strategically daubed in the cave systems so people could figure out where they were. Between that and the chipping, they hoped to avoid losing people in the caves.

The lighter gravity of the small planetoid meant he covered ground quickly. He'd perfected a kind of a half walk, half leap that meant in the lower caves, his head was in danger if he didn't control himself. At least work took his mind off his brooding about Tucker—the poor man had been through a horrible ordeal. Reed should be more understanding. Instead, he found himself watching Tucker and T'Pol with a kind of unseemly jealousy.

"Third turnoff to the right," Reed muttered. Nobody was around, but he anticipated that would change when the supplies started coming down. People would get bedrolls and create little communities. "One, two, and this must be three." He hesitated by the entryway because the lack of paint meant that the area was off-limits. He mentally shrugged before continuing. If this was a MACO altercation with security, he'd take it out of bounds too, for some privacy. "Hulloah!" he called, sweeping his handheld light from side to side.

"Mr. Reed?" the voice said. Reed recognized it from the call a few minutes earlier. He was in the right place, then. It struck Reed that he wasn't being addressed by his title as he ought to be.

"Yes?" Reed cautiously poked his head into the next cave, only to throw up an arm as a light flashed into his eyes. "Your torch, man!" he said reprovingly. "You're blinding me."

"Sorry," the man's voice said, and then the voice repeated, only this time with an English accent, "Sorry."

The light moved down, and Reed dropped his arm, dazzled eyes squinting. "I see the problem's resolved itself," Reed offered, but every sense was on the alert: the crewmen were gone. No MACOs or security personnel were in evidence. Reed strongly suspected that they'd never been there.

"Resolved itself?" the voice asked blankly.

Reed frowned. "The altercation," he reminded the man. Although he'd just reproved him for shining a light into his eyes, he swung his own light up.

"Ah, yes. That."

Reed froze as the light touched the edge of the man's face. "How—who—" he managed. Someone had gone to quite a bit of trouble. He'd been lured here. That much was clear. But why?

"I'm afraid that the altercation is happening now."

The man—himself, Malcolm Reed, but a Malcolm Reed with a goatee, a sardonic smile, and some kind of tiny but sinister-looking weapon trained on Reed—shrugged apologetically and he fired.

Reed crumpled to the ground, conscious but unable to move. Surely he must have been seeing things in the dark. Surely he couldn't have seen—

No. In the light that flared a moment later from a lamp lit and set on the floor, he saw a man who could be his twin. Reed tried to open his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He couldn't move.

"I'm afraid I'll need this," the man said, tugging Reed's uniform briefly before he found the zip. "And a shave, I'm afraid. Pity. I'd rather gotten used to this goatee. I'm Major Reed, by the way." He leaned in close. Reed didn't like what he saw in those glittering eyes. "And I'm here because you have something I need."

PART 2

"About time, Malcolm," Trip Tucker said, barely sparing a glance up.

"I was delayed, sir. A little...altercation." Reed knelt beside Tucker, shoulder brushing shoulder.

Tucker instinctively shied away at the touch. To cover the rude gesture, he ran his scanner over the couplings. It wasn't Reed's fault. He was just trying to be kind. He pulled his eyes away from Reed and frowned at the readouts. The switch to the new couplings had helped. They would hold, but they wouldn't last. Then again, they didn't need to. They'd only be on this rock for a few more days, once they figured everything out on board Enterprise.

"Little?" he asked, eyeing his friend. "You were gone for more than six hours."

"Yes, sir, sorry about that." Reed didn't offer any more information. His eyes flickered to Tucker's face.

"What?" Tucker touched the right side of his face, where Reed's eyes had rested for a long few seconds as if he saw something there. He felt nothing but skin, but he rubbed it in case he had a smudge or something.

"Sir?"

"You're looking at me like I've got dirt on my face." Tucker wiped his cheek with his sleeve, then checked the fabric: clean.

Reed frowned slightly, as if puzzled. "No, sir. You look fine. Sorry, sir."

Tucker shook his head. First he had jerked away from Reed, and now he was imagining things. Right now, he didn't have time to figure the man out. They were way too busy. He indicated the couplings. "The grade 3 link did the trick. I'm satisfied it won't blow." He regained his feet and brushed off his knees. "Log the time it's in service, and let me know when it hits 30 hours. We'll do another safety assessment then. But here's hoping we won't be here that long." He cast about the room for Hess and managed to catch her eye. He gestured her over. "Lieutenant," he greeted her as she jogged up. "Lieutenant Reed got the transporter booster working."

"Good work, Lieutenant. Thanks for helping us out on this one," Hess said to Reed, then turned to Tucker. "So you want me to take it from here, Commander?"

"Thanks, yes." Tucker handed her a padd with the updated specs. "Can anyone on your team be spared to help with the loading or unloading?" he asked Reed. "We need to send down latrines, nutripaks, and bedrolls, in that order. Nothing too heavy." He added, "Not that it matters so much in this gravity."

"I suppose the two men who were working on the repairs might be spared," Reed allowed. Tucker waited for Reed to give him their names, but instead, Reed indicated them. "Those two."

"Fine," Hess said brightly. She waved the padd at Tucker. "I'm on it. I'll contact the quartermaster when we have a crew on standby to unload."

As she left, Reed turned to Tucker. "Now that that's done, I wonder if I might show you something I ran across while I was in the caves, dealing with that little...problem."

Reed stepped close, and Tucker automatically edged back. This, coupled with the previous casual brush, had made him realize that Reed had been withdrawing from him lately. He wasn't sure why, but he suspected that it had something to do with the fact that he hadn't been particularly friendly lately. The grief accompanying Elizabeth's death had been immediately followed by a slow, deep anger, that had failed to dissipate with time. The nightmares made it hard to sleep, and even though the neuropressure sessions with T'Pol were helping, they also provoked their own kind of anxiety—an anxiety having to do with an attractive colleague stripping to the waist without batting an eyelash, and somehow expecting Tucker to remain on the same footing with her. If he'd been feeling less devastated, he probably would have tried something with her by now, but as it was, he felt mostly numb.

Then there was Reed. His friend wasn't one to present a shoulder to cry on, but he'd made it clear early on that if Tucker needed anything, he was there. Tucker had gotten the feeling that Reed was waiting for some kind of cue from him, but the numbness that kept him from turning to T'Pol for physical solace kept him from turning to Reed for emotional relief. Strangely, it seemed to be working the other way: he confided in T'Pol, perhaps because he thought she didn't really understand, even as Reed's withdrawal seemed to affect him physically, making Tucker feel isolated. Now, Reed's slight move in, erasing the extra personal space he now realized Reed had established, struck him with a kind of forceful intimacy. It was as if nothing had happened.

He mentally shook himself. "What kind of something did you run across?" he asked, getting back to the business at hand. "Did you find something interesting in there?"

"I did indeed." Reed searched his pockets until he found a padd. "Take a look. This substance is honeycombed in the cave system."

Tucker accepted the padd. "Some kind of lattice mineral," he noted, checking its structure. He checked its spectrographic information and gave a low whistle. "Mighty interesting." He hadn't seen anything quite like it before. He raised his eyebrows. "What's your interest in this stuff?"

"Other than that it could be easily transformed into an extremely stable fuel source that will let us run on impulse through this anomalous region of space?" Reed asked, making it sound rhetorical. "We wouldn't need the antimatter engine."

Tucker took another look. "You're right," he said. It wouldn't even be that hard to refine. His mind raced ahead, considering what equipment he'd need on board Enterprise, then made himself pause. This could be the answer to their dilemma here in the Delphic Expanse. It didn't solve the problem of maintaining life support on board ship, but faced with this substance—well, he had an idea how it could be integrated into the ship's impulse drive. Maybe they could jury-rig this new power source and hook it into life support. "Nice, Malcolm. Where exactly did you find this?"

Reed craned his neck and looked over Tucker's shoulder. "That scan there was taken in the white caves. These coordinates here—" His finger pointed. Tucker saw Reed coming, so he didn't flinch as Reed leaned into him as he spoke. "This is the shuttlepod's landing site, if that helps you get your bearings."

"Thanks, yes," Tucker muttered, mentally calculating distances.

"But this substance is all through the caves. I ran a few spot checks. That's why I was so long. Pick an area and scan it. It's everywhere." Reed indicated the cave system in general with a toss of his head as he moved away, and Tucker relaxed. "In fact, I'd say that this is the remains of a mining operation. I don't think that these caves are natural. They're what was left after the mining operation packed up. They must have left the caves behind to stop it collapsing."

Tucker tapped the padd, excitement growing. "I need to get a geologist on this—Cooper, I think, if I can find her. She was talking about going spelunking with a few of her colleagues." He held up the padd. "Is it all right with you if I take this?"

"Of course." Reed stepped closer, as if what he had to say was for Tucker's ears only, but all he said was, "Would you keep me in the loop on this one, sir? I have an idea for its use with the phase cannons."

Tucker clapped Reed on the shoulder. "Absolutely. What made you do a walking scan the caves in the first place?"

Reed shrugged. "I thought they looked too smooth to be natural. I'm sure one of the geologists will think to do it and come to you with the same information."

Tucker dropped his hand. Reed didn't move away, he noticed. "Well, we sure didn't notice this lattice structure from orbit."

"There are just pockets of it," Reed pointed out. "It's not like the caves are made of this material."

"That's true." Tucker sighed. He didn't have time to see to this personally. He was needed on board ship to fix the life-support system. Luckily, he knew just the person to delegate it to. "I'll have Cooper take a look, and then I'll put together a plan for the refining process. This alternative fuel source may be just what we need."

"I thought so," Reed said, eyes glittering. "I'm sure digging it out won't be any trouble. It's refining it that's going to be the trick—all that specialized equipment." Tucker nodded absently as Reed continued, "Will Captain Forrest let you do this on board Enterprise, or will you bring the equipment here?"

Tucker looked up sharply and frowned. "Captain Archer."

"What?" Reed looked confused.

"It's Captain Archer."

"What did I say?" Reed looked honestly puzzled.

"Captain Forrest." Tucker grinned. "I don't think Admiral Forrest would like the demotion."

"Sorry, I meant Captain Archer." Reed passed a hand through his hair, making it stand up in little rakish spikes. "It's been a long day," he apologized. "I'm exhausted."

He really did look tired, Tucker thought. "Find yourself a bedroll and get some sleep," he advised. "And to answer your question, I'll have to construct a refining plan, but I think some of the equipment won't be moveable. We'll have to do it up there in EV suits."

Reed grimaced. "Unpleasant, to say the least."

"It would be better to get life support back up," Tucker agreed. "I've got a team working on portable life support units, so if we seal a room, we can keep it oxygenated, but the problem is that it's going to be really, really cold. It may just be easier to stay in the EV suits."

"Well, let me know what I can do, sir."

"Yep." Tucker tried for a smile, but failed. Reed turned away, and on impulse, Tucker reached out and touched him on the shoulder. "Malcolm," he said.

"Yes, sir?" Reed raised his eyebrows inquiringly.

"I know I've been—" He struggled for words. "I know I've been different since the Xindi attack." Reed's look of inquiry didn't change, so he added, "Actually, since Lizzie died."

"The Xindi attack. Lizzie. Right. Of course." Reed nodded. "I know—er, it must have been hard for you, sir."

Tucker rubbed his forehead. "Malcolm, if you could just stop sir-ing me for a second. I'm trying to apologize. I've been withdrawing. And these damn headaches aren't helping."

"No, s—I mean, no." Reed looked sympathetic. He awkwardly patted Tucker on the shoulder.

"I really—I mean—" Tucker took a deep breath. "I really value our—you know. What we have together. Our...our friendship. So thanks for bearing with me."

"Of course. Anything I can do. Just let me know."

"Thanks." Tucker smiled gratefully. It would be good to have his friend back. "Go on, Malcolm, get some sleep."

"I could say the same to you." Tucker noticed that Reed choked off the "sir." Had he really changed so much that Reed would return to his formal forms of address? It had taken forever to get Reed to call him "Trip." Reed smiled and added, "Goodnight."

Reed strode off toward the white-marked caves without a backward look, Tucker staring after him. Reed had seemed different, his very stance somehow...aggressive. Well, more aggressive. Even the way he spoke seemed different, although he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Tucker sighed. He was imagining things. He and Reed had both been up for more than twenty-four hours straight, ever since Archer had decided to evacuate the ship. They both needed sleep.

"Crewman Cooper," Tucker muttered, suddenly remembering the geologist. Delegation, that was his plan. He'd bring the idea to the captain after he knew whether or it not it might work. But first, he had a date with T'Pol for another neuropressure session. He thought briefly of canceling, but by the time he and T'Pol had argued about it, he might as well just do it.

He headed for the common area to look for her.

PART 3

"Get up, Lieutenant."

Out of long habit, Reed came immediately awake when someone shook his shoulder. He could feel rough fabric against his face—not a pillow, but rolled-up clothing. Chilly stone under him had bled away his body heat, and he felt cold. He uncurled himself from the fetal position he'd rolled himself into and sat up awkwardly as a light flared. His hands and feet were still bound with plastic ties. He only dimly remembered being trussed.

"How long have I been out?" Reed tried to rub his face. It still felt numb from whatever weapon had shot him, as did his hands. At least he could move now. "Oh, it's you," he said in disgust when he caught sight of a too-familiar face. "I'd hoped it was a bad dream."

"Sorry." His double didn't sound sorry at all. The uncanny likeness was made all the more eerie because he had shaved his goatee off, and now he wore Reed's uniform.

Reed blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sudden light. "How long were you gone?"

"Questions, questions, questions." His double sat on a nearby rock outcropping and set the lantern down. "Here. I got you one of these." He ripped a nutripak open and tossed it to Reed. It landed at his feet, and he picked it up quickly, before the contents could spill out. "About ten hours. You were probably unconscious for at least six hours after I stunned you again with this." He patted the tiny weapon, which sat atop a rock. "That's been my experience. Six or seven hours, I'd estimate."

Reed found he couldn't tell; time had passed, but it had been pitch black, and it had been very hard for him to move. He had no reason to doubt his double's words, but then again, he'd rather rely on himself, rather than the information fed him by others. Out of all the questions swirling through his head, the one that came out was: "Who are you?"

His double grinned. "Would you believe I'm you?"

Reed shook his head slowly. "It's got to be surgery." If so, it was the best surgical work he'd ever seen. But surgery alone couldn't explain the uncanny likeness in the way he held his body, the mannerisms. An actor who had undergone surgery? His mind took a leap, and he blurted out, "It's Harris, isn't it?" He'd hoped that that part of his life was gone forever, but if he had to come up with an explanation for his predicament—a double ambushing him and taking his place—Harris would be at the top of his list as the mastermind behind it. Indeed, Harris would be the sole name on the list. Reed continued, "He's running an op, Enterprise is involved, and he needed my double." Even as he spoke the words, he realized how unlikely it was. Harris could just activate Reed—unless he doubted Reed's loyalty, which he might have reason to do, Reed admitted. "Well, if so, it's bad timing, with the Xindi threat."

His double frowned. "Harris? No, I assure you, it's not Harris. And to answer your question, I'm you—in a way. I'm Major Malcolm Reed, MACO attached to the ISS Enterprise." Major Reed gave him an ironic salute. "If you don't believe me, here." He shook out the uniform jacket that Reed had been using as a pillow, and Reed stared down at a patch that loudly declared its wearer a MACO. The cut of the uniform was all wrong, and the patch was garishly out of character for the elite fighting force that Reed had been cursing only a few hours ago, but now would have given his eyeteeth to see bursting into the cave, weapons at the ready.

"That's an interesting logo," Reed said, indicating the skull on the patch.

"There's this one, too." Major Reed turned the fabric over, and Reed took in another patch, this one of the planet Earth skewered on a sword. The implications of that logo, if it was genuine, gave Reed pause. "Long live the Empire," Major Reed added sarcastically, touching it. Reed caught a glimpse of a name tag: Major M. Reed, just as his double had said. "Look, I'm not really interested in telling you why I'm here. Suffice it to say that I am stuck, I need to get out, and I need some help doing it. Well, quite a bit of help, actually. And look who I found. You and your merry band of peaceful explorers."

"What?" Reed asked, confused.

His double continued as though Reed hadn't spoken. "I managed to get you to set down here, right where the mines are—or where they used to be. A little cloaking technology from a conquered race, you see. I thought I could bluff it through, but too much is different." He dropped his voice, as if sharing a secret. "I could never imagine Jonathan Archer as a captain. Frankly, between you and me, he's just a little dim." He spoke over Reed's sputters of dismay. "Perhaps your Archer is smarter than mine. Although I seriously doubt it." He rolled up the uniform again and tossed it aside, then ripped open his own nutripak. "And your chief of security is an idiot. I was able to hack into the personnel database. As you can imagine, that helped a great deal."

"I'm chief of security," Reed said coldly, and his double grinned.

"I know." Major Reed indicated the nutripak. "Do eat."

"Look, if you could just explain—"

"Alternative reality," Major Reed cut in, a response that somehow made more sense to Reed than Harris running a complex op in the middle of the Xindi plan, which was an operation so huge that all of Earth's future rode on it. "I was leading a wing from a Suliban cell ship—do you know the Suliban?"

"Yes," Reed said tersely.

"I have a little round ship of theirs. It carries one. And it cloaks."

"Ours does too."

"We were in battle with—well, I suppose it doesn't matter." The major rubbed his upper lip thoughtfully. "We were led here, to this region of space, because it plays holy hell with ships' systems. As evasive moves go, this one was a winner. Shots were exchanged. I cloaked, but I took fire just as I was phasing, and—" Major Reed spread out his hands and gazed up. "I ended up here. As you can imagine, I was quite surprised. It took me a week or so to figure out what had happened, and then you came along. I can get back, but this region of space—" He indicated the entirety of the Delphic Expanse. "It's bloody difficult to navigate. My ship is damaged and what little fuel I have left is barely enough to limp along. I need an alternative power source to let me clear the Expanse. Let's just say I've got that bit under control. Then I can get back. As for you—" He took a bite of food, chewed, and swallowed, drawing it out to enjoy Reed's obvious impatience. "As for you, you can relax if you like. I don't plan to kill you. Could I kill myself?" he mused, then stroked the top of his little silver weapon. "Obviously, I can." He grinned, a long, slow grin that left no doubt in Reed's mind that he could do exactly that. "But I'd rather not. Call me tender-hearted. I'm sure you understand tender-hearted." He took another bite of food. "I just need to keep you out of the way for a bit. Then I can go on my way, and you can go on yours. You can tell them whatever you like. Or you can tell them nothing at all. Frankly, I advise the latter."

"You realize your story is madness," Reed told him. He didn't believe a word of it, although the resemblance between the two of them was truly uncanny. It wasn't even like looking in a mirror. He saw himself the way others saw him. Did his voice really sound like that? Did he cock his head slightly like that when he spoke? He realized that he didn't know.

"I'm quite aware it must sound like it." Major Reed sighed. "The single bright spot is that I'm fascinated with weapons here too." He gestured at Reed's nutripak. "Do eat. Then we can find you a nice rock a cave or two down to use as a latrine."

Actually, that suggestion was a welcome one, but Reed strove for indifference. "Thanks so very much."

"You're quite welcome. I do have a few questions for you, however."

Reed tasted a corner of his nutripak, then sighed. Strawberry shortcake—Travis Mayweather's favorite. He was having dessert for dinner. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers. "I thought you had access to the personnel files." He took a bite.

"I do, but they do not help as much as one might think." Major Reed pulled the strap of a canteen over his head and unscrewed the lid. He took a deep drink, which somehow made Reed thirsty. The bite of strawberry shortcake had helped, but he'd awoken with a cotton mouth. "For example, I had a nice conversation with your Commander Tucker. I should have viewed the personnel files first. I made a blunder and misidentified the captain. Luckily, he chalked it up to exhaustion. But we had the most extraordinary conversation. I learned that the Xindi attacked Earth, and someone named Lizzie has died."

Reed felt cautious. All this information was in any of the computers, completely unsecured, available for anybody to view. It struck him that this was a test to see how honest he would be under questioning. Best to tell the truth whenever possible. But he needed to get someone's attention. He had no intention of quietly letting himself be held prisoner for days on end while a stranger with his face took action behind the scenes—action that was probably not in Enterprise's best interests. And there was no telling what he might do to Reed's personal life. "Yes. Lizzie is Elizabeth, Commander Tucker's sister. The Xindi—we're not very familiar with them."

Major Reed dismissed them instantly. "We conquered them long ago. I likely know more about them than your database."

Reed decided to test that. "Such as? Any information would be most useful."

Major Reed laughed. "Quid pro quo?"

"Something like that. I answer your questions, you answer mine."

"I doubt any information I could give you would be of any real value. The political situation where I come from is quite different." Major Reed must have seen Reed eyeing his canteen, because he stood up. "I beg your pardon. How rude of me."

"Thanks," Reed said before tilting his head back and opening his mouth.

Major Reed poured in some water. It came out faster than he could drink it. He swallowed a few huge gulps, got water up his nose, sputtered, and began coughing. "Stop!" Reed managed, because Major Reed hadn't tipped up the canteen when he started choking, and water filled his nose and mouth so he couldn't breathe. He turned his head aside, but the water followed for another long few moments. Major Reed stepped back as Reed shook water out of his eyes. He sat back down as Reed coughed noisily until he could breathe again. Major Reed had enjoyed that little game too much. What kind of psychopath was he?

"That wasn't necessary," Reed snapped.

Major Reed screwed the cap back on the canteen. "Really? I rather thought it was." He pointed at Reed. "I know you because I know me. Lies and disinformation." He sat back. "Tell me about the bridge crew. For example, just who is Hoshi Sato sleeping with in your world? Jonathan Archer?"

Reed blinked. He hadn't expected this line of questioning, but it made sense. Interpersonal relationships wouldn't be in the database. Facts wouldn't trip up Major Reed, but the little things might. "No," he said. He couldn't imagine Sato with Archer. "There's quite a difference in their ages," he added.

"I ask because she's usually with the captain, whoever that is. Right now, it's Captain Forrest."

Reed said stiffly, "Admiral Forrest is based on Earth. He's not on board ship."

"I know that now." Major Reed went back to eating his nutripak as though they were having a civil conversation, not what amounted to an interrogation. "About that conversation I mentioned before, the conversation with Trip Tucker."

"Yes?" Reed asked warily. He sensed Major Reed's interest. This was the information he was really after.

"He said he valued what we had together. Our...friendship." Major Reed emphasized the word "friendship." The look he gave Reed was laden with meaning, and Reed blinked when he got it. Major Reed thought that Tucker and he—oh, dear. He did his best to control his face, giving nothing away, as comprehension dawned. Major Reed added, perhaps too casually, "I got the feeling you two have been on the outs of late."

The beginnings of a plan tickled the back of Reed's brain. If he could send a message to Tucker, get him suspicious of this Reed—he still had the implant, after all. If someone went searching in the white-marked caves, they'd find him, assuming, of course, he hadn't been moved while he was unconscious. That's what he would have done, and he and this Reed seemed to think alike. Get Tucker to think something was wrong with Reed, make him suspicious of Major Reed—that was a start.

"Well?" Major Reed asked impatiently.

"On the outs? I suppose you could say that," Reed said. He took a deep breath. He'd take Major Reed's cue. It just might let him get Tucker's attention. "We haven't been working well together lately," he began.

Major Reed grunted. "I need his cooperation."

"It was Elizabeth's death. It really put a damper on our..." He took the plunge. "On our relationship. You know. Our...relationship." He imbued the word with as much meaning as he could, and he let it hang there, pregnant with unspoken meaning. He held the major's eyes and attempted to radiate sincerity.

Major Reed passed a hand through his hair, unsuccessfully hiding worry. "Damn it. I thought as much," he ground out. He pushed himself up and began to pace. "How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long have you had this...relationship?"

Reed thought fast. "Not long. We've been—er, together for perhaps eight months. Then the attack happened, and—well—things have been rough since then. Trip has had nightmares and bad headaches. It's been...hard." He lowered his eyes to the floor, as if overcome with emotion. He'd done it—cast a stone into a lake that he hoped would send ripples to Tucker.

Major Reed turned on his heel and headed back toward Reed. "Trust me to be as bent as a hairpin in this reality! Because Hoshi Sato is really much more my cup of tea."

"She's not mine," Reed pointed out, putting irony into his voice.

His comment had the desired effect. "Gah!" Major Reed tore at his hair as he paced. "What do you do together?" he demanded, then immediately added, "Wait. Don't answer that. I really don't want to know." He wheeled on Reed and glared. "I don't want to know, but I have to. Tell me."

"No," Reed said defiantly. He found he was enjoying himself. "I think you can figure it out. Just—get him alone, tell him you love him—" Major Reed made a horrible choking noise, but Reed overrode it with his voice. "—and let him take the lead." It amused Reed to think of what that might be. He leaned forward, nutripak forgotten in his bound hands. "You want his cooperation? Then keep it status quo."

"Status quo," Major Reed said, covering his face with his hands. "Oh, bloody hell. Status quo."

"He was trying to apologize to me," Reed continued. This seemed reasonable, given the information the major had given him. Still, he didn't want to go too far and give away his game. "For being cold and distant. That's what the conversation was about. He wants to make it up."

"He wants to make it up." Major Reed was apparently rattled, if his repeating everything Reed said was anything to go by.

"And keep it discreet, would you? It's not common knowledge. In fact, T'Pol's been sniffing around him." Reed didn't want to think too hard about why this plan was so brilliant: it centered on the fact that not only were he and Tucker not lovers, but that Tucker had displayed absolutely no interest in him. And his remark about T'Pol ought to cover any gossip Major Reed might come across that would ruin his plan.

Major Reed repeated in despair, "Discreet," and Reed knew he had him.

PART 4

"There you are, sir," Reed said, poking his head into the EV suit storage area.

"Malcolm!" Tucker, clean, wet hair slicked back, threw Reed a smile as he finished the checklist for his EV suit. He'd just gotten back from his stint on board Enterprise. The day had not gone well, although the work had kept his mind off Elizabeth, and he was pleased to see his friend. Thanks to a discreet neuropressure session with T'Pol last night, he'd been headache-free today. And now that he'd washed and eaten—tasks he'd done while waiting for a new oxygen tank for the EV suit, so he could lay it out for the next person—he felt much better. "You looking for me? Come on in."

Reed entered the room, which had several EV suits laid in careful pools around the edge of the room, gauntlets waving from the upside-down helmet atop each pile of suiting. They'd all be taken by the next shift, due to go up to Enterprise with the next shuttlepod in two hours. Several crew members were also checking their suits now that the oxygen backpacks had been refilled. "I was actually hoping for a status report on that alternative fuel, sir." He fiddled with the top of the lantern he held.

"Oh, right." Tucker awkwardly folded his bulky suit. Usually they were hung up, which made them far easier to store, despite their weight. "I got a report from Crewman Cooper. She seems pretty excited. She's mapping out sites for some small-scale mining efforts. She has a plan to refine it, and once she gets me the specs for the chemical composition of the fuel, I can figure out a way to store it, and how to get it to the engine. I'm still not sure where to put it. One of the cargo bays can be refitted, I guess. But I'd prefer tanks. They'd have to be pretty big, though." Tucker, finished with his suit, checked a gauntlet next. Reed looked awfully interested. Tucker figured he felt proprietary about the fuel. "I still haven't run it by Captain Archer. I'll do that after I make sure we can actually use the fuel." He didn't anticipate any problems with Archer green-lighting the project. He patted Reed on the side of the arm. "Great find, Malcolm. You should have seen Cooper. She grabbed a sensor and started combing the caves."

Reed's grin seemed to freeze. "Did she?"

"Don't worry, I know what you're thinking."

"I doubt that, sir," Reed murmured, and Tucker frowned but ignored the comment.

"Until we can prioritize getting in better equipment, they were restricted to a two-kilometer radius from the big cave. We don't have time for a search and rescue."

Reed nodded, seeming to relax a fraction. "Good thinking, sir." He absently whacked the lantern against his leg.

Tucker turned his helmet upside-down and stuck the gauntlet in it. He reached for the other gauntlet. "Whatever they found, Cooper was sure excited about it."

"Do you think that this alternative fuel source might somehow be used to power the life-support system on board ship?"

Tucker frowned at the gauntlet. Was that a hole in the outer skin? "I asked myself that, because I spent all day on that system, and I can't figure out why it won't work. It's probably something in this region of space. We may take the ship out tomorrow with a skeleton bridge crew and see if it starts working again if we get some distance. I'll know more when I see Cooper's report."

"And when do you expect that?" Reed persisted, moving aside as a crew member slid by.

It was a hole. Tucker turned to the suit they'd set aside to cannibalize and swapped out a left gauntlet for a left gauntlet. "Uh, first thing tomorrow morning, she said. She wanted to run some tests but she needed the spectro console on board Enterprise. I think she's up there now." Tucker finished checking the new gauntlet and tucked it next to its mate. He stuck the helmet in the middle of the pooled suit to indicate that it could be taken. He was done. "Having to stop work to come back and refill the oxygen tanks is really slowing us down."

"Yes, but at least everyone takes breaks that way."

Tucker nodded. That had been Archer's rationale. He tagged the gauntlet for repair and stuck it with a hodgepodge of other parts awaiting attention. "I guess that's true. I was thinking of going up with the next shuttlepod."

Reed protested, "It's 2100 hours!"

Tucker shrugged. "Lots of work. The captain's pulling double shifts. He's still up there." He actually felt fairly awake. And he did have a line of inquiry he hadn't tried yet.

"Well, we have two hours. And—I guess now is as good a time as any."

Tucker looked up sharply at Reed's tone of voice—as if Reed had something he wanted to talk about, but didn't want to have the conversation. "Oh?" he said.

Reed dropped his voice and threw a look at the crew members sharing the EV area. He looked tense, even a little nervous. "I'd like to talk to you. Privately."

"Sure," Tucker said agreeably. "What about?"

"Mostly our...ah...friendship. Something you said yesterday got me thinking." Reed turned to the entrance to the cave. "Follow me," he ordered.

Reed took them through the main cave to the white-marked entrance. They plunged into the white cave system, Reed confidently leading the way. His overture to reestablishing his friendship with Reed had apparently been accepted. He hoped they'd soon be sitting with their feet up, drinking Scotch, just like old times. He also found himself wondering how long this talk would take, but he didn't dare ask. He thought it would be rude, particularly with Reed so keen to talk about something that was apparently so important—something that had him so nervous. Still, he couldn't imagine the conversation lasting more than two hours.

"Just through here." Reed ducked to fit through a low entryway, and Tucker followed, eyeing the top of the cave, which did not have a white marker, meaning it was out of bounds. Reed wasn't kidding; he really did want privacy. Tucker followed through a few more small caves, using his handheld flashlight and committing landmarks to memory so he could get back to the marked caves.

"Well," Tucker said when Reed stopped and turned.

"Well," Reed said.

There was a long pause.

"I really need to begin by—" Reed began, just as Tucker said, "I'm sorry I've been so—"

They broke off at the same time. "Let me light the lantern," Reed said, setting it down. He did so, and they both turned off their handheld lights.

"Let me start," Tucker said as Reed adjusted the light level. "Elizabeth's dying really hit me—hit me hard. I know I've been withdrawing. Doctor Phlox has been telling me so often enough." He held up his hand as Reed opened his mouth. "I haven't been as...I don't know, open and approachable. It's because I just feel really angry." He had turned that anger onto the Xindi, the aliens they knew virtually nothing about. For all Reed's kindness, he wasn't sure he could talk completely openly. "You've been really patient with me. But some stuff I'm not ready to talk about yet."

Reed took a deep breath. "Trip," he began, and then paused and took another deep breath. Tucker tried to look encouraging. Reed wasn't very good at expressing his emotions. At least Reed had called him "Trip." That was a good sign. "What we have—our, er, relationship—means everything to me."

Tucker frowned, puzzled. Everything?

"Since the Xindi attack—it's been very hard for me to see your reaction. I just want you to know I'm there for you, if you want to talk or—or—whatever."

"I know," Tucker said earnestly, and there was another pause. Reed still looked nervous.

"Oh, hell," Reed said, voice intense, to Tucker's confusion. He stepped close, put his hands on Tucker's head, and kissed him full on the lips.

Tucker was too shocked to react. His initial thought was, "So this is what Malcolm was so worried about." When his mouth opened, mostly from surprise, Reed took advantage of it, nibbling on his lower lip and gently licking. He finally managed to drag his lips from Reed's, but Reed spoke before he could form his thoughts.

"Don't pull back," Reed whispered, winding his fingers into Tucker's hair. "I know you need this. I'm here for you. I've always been here for you. You know how I feel. I love you. It hurts me to see you like this." Then his mouth pressed against Tucker's again, and Tucker automatically kissed back while his mind repeated one thing over and over: oh, lord, Reed was in love with him, and he'd had no idea.

He managed to say, "I don't—I didn't—", but his body had caught up while his mind was trying to sort through everything under impossible circumstances—notably, Reed's mouth on his, and Reed's hands, which were now trailing up and down interesting places. Somehow, Tucker's arms had gone around Reed while he wasn't paying attention, and he found himself clinging to him.

"It's all right," Reed assured him breathlessly, and then, a moment later, when Tucker tried to speak, he added, "Please. Don't say anything. Not a word."

Not a word, Tucker thought frantically as Reed leaned in for another kiss. And speaking of kisses—he hadn't been kissed this thoroughly, or with this much imagination, for quite a while, if ever. For some reason, he thought of T'Pol, stripped to the waist for their neuropressure sessions, his attempt to temper his physical reaction—and her total disinterest. He didn't have to temper anything now. He'd always liked Reed, but he'd never thought of them like this...

It wasn't true. He hadn't dared think of it. Reed had always been so unapproachable, so determined to use rank as a barrier. And now it was happening, as if Tucker's withdrawal and change had provided Reed the impetus to make a move.

"Trip," Reed murmured, and Tucker found himself murmuring back, "Malcolm."

It was as if he capitulated when he said Reed's name. Any "no, we can't" speeches he had half-formed got tossed by the wayside. He gave himself over to Reed, letting him set the pace. Giving in, saying nothing—it felt wonderful. The kisses grew in intensity, until they pressed against each other just to stay standing. He felt the hard ridge of Reed's interest, just as he knew Reed felt his, because Reed's hand cupped there, then stroked through the heavy fabric. His heart accelerated when Reed's fingers found the zip of his uniform. He didn't want to pull back, and he didn't, because he found he wanted this. And Reed had said he loved him.

They undressed each other, stopping frequently to kiss or murmur or lick. He'd seen Reed's body before, but he'd never been able to touch, and now that he could, he found all sorts of places he now knew he'd been longing to touch but that he hadn't been able to, like the hollow at the base of Reed's throat, or the area inside his elbow, or along the edge of the belly. Reed explored him too, starting by touching his face and looking at him wonderingly, then going lower, following his hands with his mouth.

They lay next to each other on their discarded uniforms and regulation blue underwear, exploring but always returning to each other's lips. When Reed's mouth closed around his erection, enveloping it in wonderful, tight heat, he lost all semblance of control. The pent-up desire for touch meant he had no control, but Reed made it easy. He moaned and thrust, until Reed pushed his hips down with his hands and he stilled. Reed took him in deep, held him there, tongue caressing the underside of his penis, and then slowly, slowly withdrew. Then he did it all again. The teasing made Tucker pant. Reed didn't stop. He trembled on the edge, fingers buried in Reed's hair, stroking the soft, smooth nape of Reed's neck, all sensation focused on a single point, until Reed sped up, sucking hard, as if he could sense how close Tucker was.

He tightened his fingers in Reed's hair to indicate he was going to come. "Oh," he moaned, the word lost in the rush of his orgasm. All the pain, anxiety, and hopelessness of the past few months burned away as his body arched in ecstasy. He had wanted this for so long, so very long: someone—Reed, who had been there all along, and only now did he know it—to touch him in love. He relaxed his fingers, realizing he'd been clutching Reed's head, and panted. "Oh," he said again.

"Oh," Reed repeated, grinning at him. He released Tucker and began kissing his way up, but Tucker pushed him onto his back and got between his legs.

"Your turn." Tucker wrapped his hand around Reed's erection, pulling the foreskin all the way down to expose the shiny head. He found he was still shaking a little from coming; the memory sent a frisson of pleasure through his spine. He lowered his head and took Reed's cock into his mouth.

Reed tasted clean and dark. It had been a while since he'd gone down on a man, but he found he remembered the basics. Reed liked it a little rough, with teeth scraping his knob. He murmured directions: "Just like that," he'd say, or "More." Tucker cupped Reed's balls in his hand and squeezed gently; Reed reacted instantaneously, his cock perking up even more.

"I know you like that," Tucker teased. Somehow, Reed's reaction didn't surprise him.

"Oh, yes," Reed moaned. "Yes, I do." Tucker squeezed and resumed sucking, enjoying the flex of Reed's penis, its heat, and Reed's obvious pleasure. "Harder," Reed said breathlessly, so Tucker squeezed hard—harder than he would have been comfortable doing otherwise, and then still harder because Reed's reaction told him he liked it—and matched the pressure with his mouth. Reed came almost immediately, hard, hot jets filling Tucker's mouth. Tucker rode him through it, reveling in Reed's reaction, in every pant and moan.

When Reed flopped back and sighed, Tucker released him and arranged himself by Reed's side. He propped himself up on an elbow and watched Reed in the steady light of the lantern. Only when Reed smiled up at him and touched his face did Tucker stroke his chest.

"That was very nice," Reed told him, and Tucker leaned down to kiss him.

"Yes, it was." He had a thousand other things to say, starting with "you said you loved me" to "we should probably talk about this" to "when can we do this again?" Instead, they kissed, languid and slow, without the desperate imperative they'd begun with.

"Did you still want to go on board ship?" Reed asked tentatively. "Or would you prefer to spend the night here with me, in this cold cave?" He ran appreciative fingers over Tucker's chest.

Damn. He should probably go up. "The cold cave, obviously," Tucker said, voice regretful. Reed nodded, understanding that Tucker would indeed be going up on the next shuttlepod. "We should probably talk." He let the phrase hang, its implications clear. Reed had to know when he kissed him that it was an all-or-nothing proposition, because Tucker did not have casual relationships, and Reed knew it.

"Whenever you're ready," Reed assured him. "How much time do we have?"

Tucker sighed and sat up. "Let me see."

"So there's the item that was digging into my back," Reed teased as Tucker found a scanner in his uniform pocket. He checked its clock.

"I'd better go," Tucker said. "The shuttlepod leaves in a little under an hour. I need to get suited."

"Need any help?" Reed asked, touching Tucker's lower lip. His eyes looked hooded, as if he wanted to do it all over again.

Tucker sucked Reed's cold, slightly salty finger into his mouth, caressed it with his tongue, and slowly released it. "No, thanks," he said, grinning as Reed reached for him.

They kissed briefly, but Tucker couldn't delay. They pulled on their uniforms, and as Tucker zipped up, he suddenly felt awkward. He wasn't exactly sure what had just happened, but it felt as though he'd been seduced, even though he'd been willing, once he'd gotten past his surprise. This was going to cause all kinds of problems on board ship. They'd have to keep it quiet. And they definitely needed to talk about what it meant. He hoped that it meant there was a future for them.

They'd figure it out.

"Can you find your way back?" Reed asked, touching his arm as if casually, but his fingers caressed him and it wasn't casual at all. "I don't think we should go out together."

Tucker smiled. Any crew member looking at the two of them would be able to tell what happened. It would be a wonder if they could keep their hands off each other. "Sure," Tucker said. He headed for the exit, then turned. "Malcolm?" At Reed's inquiring look, he said, because he found it was true, "I really do love you. Thanks for hanging in there."

He turned and left quickly. If he stayed, he would spend another few hours with Reed, or he would end up talking about everything—their relationship, Lizzie, his neuropressure sessions with T'Pol, all of it. He knew those conversations would come, but right now, he needed to get life support back up on board Enterprise.

"Oh, lord," he muttered as he reentered the white-marked caves. "What have I gotten myself into?"

PART 5

Major Malcolm Reed waited until he could no longer hear Tucker's footsteps. Then, in a low voice, he went through every curse word he knew in English, Spanish, Italian, French, Esperanto, German, and Klingon. He finished it off by slapping the cave wall, hard. He knew better than to punch it, although he felt like punching something; no matter how much he needed to do it, he'd just break his hand.

He'd done it—kept Tucker from suspecting anything was amiss. He'd not only declared his love for a man who, in his own reality, was an angry bastard with few redeeming characteristics, but he'd also gone down on him. Yes, here he was in a reality where the delectable Hoshi Sato was available, and instead of her, he had to seduce a man. He could still taste Tucker's semen in his mouth. Trust his alternative reality counterpart to be light on his feet. It was just his luck. Still, he thought he'd comported himself well. The Reed in this world liked it hard, and Tucker had known that, just as Tucker had known that he didn't like to be touched right after he came, but needed a minute. He'd known the lieutenant was telling the truth by his body language back in the cave, but he'd been skeptical only because he knew himself. The encounter with Tucker had just proved that Lieutenant Reed had been telling the truth the entire time.

He grabbed the lantern, shut it off with a furious gesture, and activated his handheld light. He paused to get his bearings, then chose a direction, hoping the walk would calm him down. At least he'd figured out his way home—assuming he could get his hands on the refined fuel, that is. He'd had to sabotage Enterprise to get her here. He needed the ship's personnel and expertise to mine and refine the lattice rock. But it was only a matter of time until Tucker, or perhaps someone more competent in engineering, figured it out and reversed the component he'd altered, thus restoring life support.

In his reality, the mines were still active, mined by Triannon slaves. Here, it looked like they'd mostly been tapped out, but enough remained to generate enough of the right kind of fuel to not only power his Suliban cell ship, but to permit him to return to his own universe. He'd barely had enough fuel to complete the first part of his plan. An infusion of the lattice-based fuel would not only be compatible with the Suliban engine, but it would let him get home.

It struck him then: hadn't his double said something about knowing about Suliban cell ships? He filed that away for further questioning.

He ducked, narrowly missing hitting his head on an overhang. His feet clodded heavily on the hard floor, the result of his anger. He hadn't needed to see that look on Tucker's face when they'd last kissed—the look that spoke volumes. He didn't want to get caught up in his double's troubled love affair. He'd done what he'd done because he had to. He'd even managed to enjoy himself.

He checked his bearings with a scanner, then took a left. He'd only been able to pull everything off because of the bizarre nature of this volume of space. The Delphic Expanse played holy hell with sensors. He'd been able to use his knowledge of the Expanse in his reality to figure out how to herd the ship to the nearby mine, which contained material that would permit him to execute his plan. He'd slipped on board Enterprise undetected, just long enough to sabotage the life support system. Predictably, they'd abandoned ship, and predictably, they'd landed on the closest rock that had a breathable atmosphere, where Reed awaited them. He'd observed them, wondering how long it would take them to scan the rocks, ready to sneak in and fake some sensor readings to push them along, when he'd seen his alternate reality self, and he'd changed his plans.

It was odd, walking among people he knew. Travis Mayweather was here, but as a pilot, not a MACO—a waste of talent, he thought. He still couldn't believe that dim Archer captained Earth's flagship, or that Forrest, that old bastard, now piloted a desk. Nor could he believe that T'Pol was free in this reality, not enslaved, as all Vulcans deserved to be. Oddly few alien species crewed the ship—although this reality didn't seem to have conquered, or even met, many of the races in this corner of the galaxy. He hadn't had time to get more than a broad-brush overview of the political landscape here, enough so he didn't make any major blunders. Mostly he tried to keep out of the way and delegate tasks.

He pushed aside a waist-high rock, its weight negligible in this gravity, for all its size. He lit the lantern again, illuminating the bound figure lying on one of the ubiquitous silver blankets, which everyone used to sleep on. He'd managed to get two, one for each of them. Lieutenant Reed still used his MACO jacket as a pillow. He walked over to his double and nudged him in the ribs with his boot. Lieutenant Reed was still unconscious, but by his reckoning, he should be coming around any minute now.

"Lieutenant Reed," he snapped. He cast about for the canteen and found it next to the rock he'd sat on during their last interrogation. He hefted it, found it mostly full, and splashed some in Reed's face. "Wakey, wakey, lad."

Reed moaned and stirred, and Lieutenant Reed slapped his cheeks, none too gently. Struck at the similarity, he held the other man's chin and turned his face from side to side. Really, the likeness was amazing. He ensured Lieutenant Reed's face was kept free of cuts and bruises, although his captive's beard had started to grow, making the face look far more like his own—his old one, anyway. He rubbed his naked chin. He'd had a goatee for years, but he rather liked the smoothness. It made him look younger. He just might stay clean-shaven, once he got home.

He still felt surprised whenever he saw Tucker's face, unblemished, no hideous burn scars trailing down the right side of his face. Without it, the man looked almost handsome. He'd apparently been caught staring, because during one of their conversations, Tucker had noticed the stare and wiped his cheek, thinking he had a smudge. He needed to watch out, be more careful. That was hard, because he needed to stay close to Tucker to keep abreast of his research into the refining, so he could grab the fuel, power up, and get out.

He shoved Lieutenant Reed's face to the side, disgusted when he remembered what he'd done to get back home. "Puling whelp," he hissed. That phrase had been his father's favorite, and he took great pleasure in applying it to another Malcolm Reed. Had this Reed's father been as imaginative in his insults as his own had been? "Do wake up," he snapped, annoyed, when he caught sight of his double's eyelashes quivering in the hard-edged, white-bright light thrown from the lantern.

"Oh, it's you." Lieutenant Reed, voice fuzzy, still managed to sound disgusted. "And...yes, still bound." He held up his hands, as if in supplication, then dropped them. "Not all a terrible dream, then. How long have I been here?"

"I wish you'd stop asking that." Reed indicated the water beaded on his double's features. "For god's sake, wipe your face."

In response, Lieutenant Reed licked his lips. Reed got the hint, heaved a long-suffering sigh, and gave him some water.

"Must you stun me every time you leave?" Lieutenant Reed asked, but he made it sound rhetorical, because obviously the answer was yes. He arranged himself in a sitting posture and put his arms around his knees, for all the world like they were having a nice chat.

Reed shrugged. "Yes. I don't trust you, because I don't trust me. Leave you alone and conscious, and ten minutes later, you'd be out of those bindings. And I can't have you wandering these caves." He couldn't risk anybody finding Lieutenant Reed—not before his plan had borne fruit, anyway. "I'm sure you'll be delighted to hear that Tucker sends his love."

Lieutenant Reed suddenly got very still. "Does he?" he asked in a neutral voice that didn't fool Reed at all.

"He does." Reed sighed and looked upward, indicating heaven. "He was pleased that all was set right between you."

"How right?" The words came out unwillingly, as if the lieutenant didn't want to know.

This was killing him, Reed realized, and the thought made him smile. "Very, very right." Lechery dripped from his voice. Best get the lieutenant off his game, knowing that his double had slept with his lover. "Explosively right." He leaned forward. "Exquisitely, cataclysmically right."

"Really." Lieutenant Reed's face revealed nothing, an emotionless mask. Reed knew what it concealed: jealousy, anger, betrayal. He fancied he could see it in the coldness of the lieutenant's eyes.

He knelt by his captive. "And I'm pleased to say that you and I have something in common besides our faces. We both like it rough and hard. He knew just what to do. I came in his mouth, with him squeezing my—"

"Stop," Lieutenant Reed interrupted loudly. "Just—stop." He kept his gaze on his knees.

Reed stopped. He'd made his point. "In short, Lieutenant Reed, I got on my knees for you—figuratively speaking. Your relationship is well, your love secure." He looked at Reed expectantly.

"Good," Lieutenant Reed said at last. "Isn't that what you wanted, Major?"

"It is," Reed agreed. "It is indeed. I need his cooperation. Status quo, you said, and status quo you shall have." He leaned in and dropped his voice. "It's just my way of making all this unpleasantness up to you." He cocked his head, considering the other man, who was clearly fighting to maintain control. "Ah, I see the news doesn't encourage you. Did you think that he would know it wasn't you? That he'd sense the change? That he'd somehow call me out as an impostor? That he'd come looking for you, his one true love?"

There was a pause. Then, low: "Yes. Yes, in fact I did."

Reed gave him a grin—the one that caused detainees in his world to cower. "I'm afraid that at night, all cats are gray." He quite enjoyed the lieutenant's discomfort. "One fumbling fuck in the dark is much like another. And just in case you don't believe me—" He leaned down and caught his double's head in his hands. Lieutenant Reed twisted his head away as Reed inexorably brought their lips together. He opened his double's mouth with his own and kissed him hard. He knew Tucker's taste still lingered there.

"That wasn't necessary," Lieutenant Reed snapped when Reed pulled back, but Reed knew from the look in his double's eyes that it had been. He truly believed it now. "Tell me how much time has passed since I've been here."

"Three days," Reed said promptly.

Lieutenant Reed rubbed his lips with his fingers, either to wipe away the taste or in memory, Reed couldn't tell. "Why am I still alive?"

"I read too much bad fiction." It was the truth. At his double's look of inquiry, he added, "I am unaware of this ever happening before—moving to a parallel world. I fear that if I kill you, a version of myself, it would somehow affect the balance of our two universes, and I would never be able to return home. Since I can't know, one way or the other, I choose to simply keep you alive. And if I can't get back—" He shrugged. "Well, I can always find you again, take your place. It's dead man's boots, all the way to the captaincy."

He stood up and paced in the light gravity. He felt exquisite relief. He hadn't realized how much he had been dreading having sex with Tucker until it was all over. He'd prefer to get home, but here, in this world—well, he saw a lot of possibility, beginning with Enterprise. At home, as a MACO, he'd never have the opportunity to captain a ship. He continued, "Or I can befriend a powerful race and make myself useful. Tell me about the Suliban ship you mentioned."

Lieutenant Reed blinked at this sudden change of topic. "We captured a Suliban cell ship. Actually, Trip and Travis have been working on it, trying to get it to work properly. We don't understand some of the technology. We've used it a few times."

Reed stilled. A cell ship from this reality, and nearby? "Am I given to understand that the cell ship is on board Enterprise?"

Despite the menace lacing Reed's voice, Lieutenant Reed sounded cool in his reply. "Yes. I'm sorry, somehow I thought you knew that. It's in one of the launch bays."

Reed's feet rooted themselves to the ground. His relief abruptly transformed into anger. "Do you mean to tell me that I'm running a ridiculously complex op, full of uncontrollable variables, and this entire time, you've had a ship identical to mine?" A ship that he could simply visit and cannibalize to repair? Or steal and use himself? If its fuel system was intact, he wouldn't need the lattice fuel after all.

"Oh dear," Lieutenant Reed said, and he put his head down on his knees and started to laugh. "Yes, I suppose I am telling you that. But if it means you can leave all the sooner, I'm quite pleased to share the information with you. The computer has all the specs and research. I'm sure with your computer-hacking acumen, you will soon know more about it than I do."

"Count on it," Reed snarled. He knew he should feed his captive and take him on the short, painful walk to the location two caves away that they used as the lavatory, but instead, he found his weapon, and with two quick blasts, Lieutenant Reed sank back down into unconsciousness. Reed used his feet to kick him into a recumbent position, then checked the time. He'd just missed the shuttlepod up to Enterprise, the one with a very satisfied Tucker aboard. He could take the hidden cell ship up, but he'd rather not. Far easier to bide his time, walk in, get the ship if he could or get the piece he needed if he couldn't, and walk back out. He'd have to wait for the first shuttlepod tomorrow.

"Bloody hell," he muttered. Then, although no one could hear him, he shouted it, the words ringing around the cave.

PART 6

Reed awoke in utter darkness with his mouth dry. He jerked and rolled onto his back, hands held in front of him in a defensive posture, although the darkness hid everything. He couldn't see his hands in front of his face. "Yes, still tied up," he said sadly. He flexed the bonds, and of course they held. Cheap and all too effective. He couldn't rip them or bite through them. They had to be cut. "Major? Major Reed? Are you here?"

He held his breath and listened, but he heard no sound. He'd awoken once before and had heard the major's breathing. He slept in this room with Major Reed, and like the major, the slightest sound woke him. He found himself willing the major to stay away, to give him time to be alone and conscious. He needed to think, and he desperately needed to know how much time had passed. Every second that ticked by was time his double was up to no good. The man was a security risk if there ever was one. If the lieutenant could be believed, each stun kept him out for at least seven hours. It felt like longer this time, but perhaps that was the result of the repeated stunning. What effect would it have on him? Because he was fairly sure he was going insane—when he wasn't unconscious, that was.

Where was his double? He was always there when Reed woke up. Something wasn't right.

"Major!" he called. Maybe the major was visiting the rock they called a lavatory. Any second now, the handheld light would come bobbing in, and the major would say something new and interesting to torture him—something odd yet strangely believable, like, "Harris is here for you!" or "T'Pol is a spy!" or "Captain Archer has demoted you!"

"Hell," he moaned when he remembered what he'd been doing last time he'd been stunned. His double had grown excited about the presence of a Suliban cell ship on board Enterprise, but Reed had had all he could do to sit quietly and pretend disinterest. His double had sensed his intense, overwhelming reaction, but luckily, he'd chalked it up to Reed's anger at his actions. Seducing someone's lover could not be done without expecting some kind of reaction. Major Reed didn't know that the news the major had borne had hit Reed like the proverbial ton of bricks. He'd had been certain that any overtures would be politely and regretfully rebuffed, that any implication that they were a couple would be met with Tucker saying, "You been hitting the Scotch without me, Lieutenant?"

To learn that Major Reed had been successful—to know that they had—that they had—

He'd doubted it until Major Reed had kissed him. He'd tasted semen, and then he'd known that it was all true.

How much time had passed? Why hadn't his double come back? Had he been caught out at last? Light. He needed light. He rolled onto his hands and knees and touched the rolled-up MACO jacket he used as a pillow to get his bearings. The big rock lay to his left. His knee ground painfully on a loose rock. He had to force himself not to react so he could keep his bearings. He swept his arms in front of him to test for obstructions. Luckily, he knocked over the lamp after only a few minutes of flailing. He managed to turn it on, but his fingers felt fat and didn't work properly. The sharp, white glare hurt his eyes, but it also proved that he was alone. No Major Reed—unconscious, dead, drunk, or otherwise—lay on the silver blanket on the other side of the cave, near its entry.

Water was next, and then a nutripak, this one of something other than dessert. He sat on the same rock outcropping where his double had sat and considered, occasionally pausing to massage his wrists and flex his ankles as the blood rushed back. The light gravity was good for something: the blood hadn't pooled as painfully as it would have in Earth-normal gravity, but the pins and needles still hurt. Reed hardly noticed the pain. Instead, he visited and revisited his last conversation with his double. By what bizarre confluence of events could this happen? How could Tucker not realize that the real Reed wasn't even in the room? This was its own kind of betrayal—betrayal of friendship, never mind love.

So much for a forthcoming rescue. He was on his own. He'd visit the lavatory, and then he'd manfully hop around the confusing labyrinth of caves—with a handheld light, he hoped—until he ran into somebody he knew, and then—

Wait. Could it be that Tucker had know the whole time, but was playing a double bluff? He knew, but he didn't want Major Reed to know? So he had sex with him, but it was only because Major Reed had implied they were a couple, and Tucker—

Reed sighed and discarded that scenario too. Here he was, held prisoner, tracking device usefully implanted under his skin, only no one would be looking for him because he was wasn't lost. Major Reed seemed sadistic and cruel, but if he could seduce Tucker, Reed wouldn't put anything past him. No doubt Major Reed put up a good front to go with his face. If the major got stuck in this reality—and Reed realized now that he completely believed his double's wild story—he could go into acting. He'd make a great Macbeth.

One thing he most emphatically declined to think about, and that was Tucker giving in, finally opening himself to Reed. Only it wasn't him, was it? It was someone who looked like him, who didn't even care for him, who saw it as an onerous duty to be pushed out of the way. Here he'd been dreaming about Tucker for the past year—well, to be honest, the past two—well, make it three—years. It had never occurred to him that Tucker might reciprocate. In fact, he had thought that Tucker was destined for T'Pol. They'd been spending time together lately.

Reed, crumpling the empty nutripak container in one bound hand, looked around for somewhere to stow garbage. He laughed at himself at the impulse and let it flutter to the ground. His eyes fell on a pile of rubble, and his brow furrowed. He didn't remember it. He checked the line of sight and realized that from his pallet on the floor, the pile of rubble would be hidden behind the big rock. On a hunch, he hopped over. On Earth, he would never have attempted to shift the rocks, but the light gravity made it easy. Removing just a few large rocks revealed familiar strong, dark blue fabric. When he saw it, hope bloomed, and he redoubled his efforts. His double had buried his backpack.

It actually worried him, finding the backpack: it meant that Major Reed had intended to be back when Reed awoke, as he'd been every other time, but had been delayed. Inside were nutripaks, padds, lots of the white plastic strips used as bindings, sundry useless electronic devices, and—yes. Reed held them up triumphantly: a pair of snips, perfect for cutting the bonds. He set about cutting them off. He did his feet first because they were easier. He found it far harder to get the correct angle for freeing his hands, and his thick fingers didn't help, but he managed.

He shook out the contents of the backpack and then replaced them, one by one. The tiny weapon the major used to stun Reed wasn't there. He likely kept it about his person. Reed, free now, had to force himself to be thorough. Every creak, every odd sound, every ping made him jerk, as if Major Reed were hurrying back. He half-expected to feel the tingle of the stun, followed by pain and collapse. A trip to the lavatory cave was next. He managed to clean up—at least, he hoped he didn't smell—with the last of the water, but he had to settle for what he was wearing: Starfleet blues and Major Reed's pants and shoes. One thing he had to do was shave, but he found his double's depilatory kit sitting by his silver blanket. Next to it was his handheld light, which he took back. He'd find a uniform somewhere, or he'd simply walk up and requisition one. He resisted the urge to tuck a nutripak in his pocket. They were too large. He did sling the empty canteen around his shoulder.

He shut off the lantern, plunging the cave back into darkness, and clicked on his handheld light. At the door of the cave, playing light about, he stopped. Did he need to escape? Really, it was just a reflex. He didn't have a plan. He and Major Reed actually had the same agenda: they wanted to return him to his own reality. Instead of sneaking off, he should wait here, free and unbound to show his good faith, and offer to help Major Reed in any way possible.

No. He had to leave. First, it was the duty of a prisoner to escape. Second, it would make Major Reed very, very angry, and somehow, that knowledge gave Reed incredible pleasure. And third, he would rather not work against the interests of Captain Archer, and he suspected that if he threw in his lot with Major Reed, Archer's interests would be the last item on the major's agenda. He was still the ship's security officer, even if he'd been kidnapped, stunned, and held prisoner.

Reed shook his head in dismay and half-laughed. Some security officer. Well, the least he could do was think of a way to track Major Reed. He hadn't been chipped, or if he had, Reed hadn't noticed the telltale mark on the back of the neck. Reed felt the back of his own neck. The wound had closed, but he scraped away the crust of scar and kept digging until he managed to capture the chip under his fingernail, grimacing in pain as he withdrew it. He surveyed it on his fingertip for a long moment, grimaced, and popped it into his mouth to clear off the blood. Trust Doctor Phlox to select this kind of old technology, rather than using something modern. He'd had some complex medical reason, of course, that Reed hadn't paid attention to.

He kept the chip in his mouth as he unburied the backpack again. He hoped his saliva wouldn't degrade it. After all, Phlox had designed the chip to dissolve in the bloodstream after a few weeks, and Reed, although not an expert, thought that saliva was more corrosive than blood. Still, this plan represented the best he could do on such short notice. He placed the chip in a pocket, considered it, and then added a few tiny bits of grit from the floor. At a casual look, the small, oblong black chip was indistinguishable from the grit. It would have to do.

It took another few minutes to bury the backpack, this time, he hoped, for the last time. He found the nutripak wrapper he'd discarded and put it in his pocket; there was no need to advertise what he'd been up to.

He squared his shoulders and shuffled out of the cave.

PART 7

Lieutenant Reed, clean, shaven, and in proper uniform, ghosted back into a niche in the green cave system. Two crew members passed, laughing. They didn't notice him. The last two days had been interesting. He hadn't observed his double's reaction to his disappearance, but the fact that nobody was after the impostor had probably gone a long way to soothing Major Reed's concerns. Maybe Major Reed thought he had spent the last day wandering in the caves, hopelessly lost. Still, his double hadn't come after him, although Major Reed had changed his sleeping quarters, which Reed found interesting. It meant his double had something far more compelling than Reed's escape on his mind.

On the day Reed had escaped, his double had been late because he'd been on board Enterprise. Reed had found out that the shuttlepod back down had been unavoidably delayed when an accident on board ship had closed the launch bay doors. Reed still smiled when he considered his double's reaction: tamped-down fury, no doubt, as moment after moment ticked by, covered by an attempt to remain blasé. It had taken more than three hours for engineers to override the doors, and they still didn't work properly. In fact, all the launch bays were out of commission. New crew members shuttling up now had to enter through an airlock.

While the doors had been repaired, the returning passengers had been cooped up on the little craft because their EV tanks had been depleted and they needed the shuttlepod's independent air system if they wanted to keep breathing. Reed didn't envy them the experience.

Reed reentered the cave corridor and checked his scanner. He congratulated himself yet again for his foresight in removing the tracking device in his neck and putting it in the backpack, because Major Reed tended to keep the backpack with him when he wasn't on board ship. Reed figured he'd gone on board Enterprise to get something from the Suliban cell ship, probably some component from the fuel system. He'd overheard enough to know that the fuel made from the lattice rock kept the geologists and a few engineers amused. Someone named Cooper was in charge of the project. They had mined a small amount lattice rock, careful not to collapse the cave as they used simple hand tools to dig out the ore. It was sufficient to make just enough fuel to run some tests.

His double had spent the last day in the marked cave system. Now, in the early hours of the morning by ship's time, Major Reed was on the move. For more than an hour, Reed wended his way through the cave system. The major likely had an optimized route, but Reed had to follow using his scanner, and he kept running into solid walls and tantalizing openings too tiny to permit him to squeeze through, or a likely looking cave corridor that would abruptly make a hairpin turn, and he'd find himself going in the wrong direction. He mapped the corridors as he went so he could find his way back.

His scanner indicated that his double was in a large space. Reed turned off his scanner and his handheld when he caught a glimpse of light. He closed his eyes and counted to one hundred. When he opened them, his eyes quickly adjusted to the dimness. He moved forward, as quietly as he could, until he could peer around a handily placed boulder. He smiled grimly to himself when he saw what he'd been hoping to see: a Suliban cell ship.

He settled himself as comfortably as he could and observed Major Reed. His double had set a lantern on the cave floor outside the cell ship's door, and was moving in and out of the ship. He seemed completely focused on his task, oblivious to his watcher. He had apparently laid out tools, but they were not in Reed's line of vision. He would come out, bob out of sight, pop back up, then go back inside. After an hour, the major came out, put his hands on his hips, and paced, a frown on his face. Reed inferred that it was not going well, but unfortunately, the major didn't talk to himself. He didn't mutter anything that would help Reed learn whether he could get the cell ship working again. Reed would have loved to hear him roar in anger, saying something useful, such as, "The bloody fuel component is the wrong size!" Still, the way it looked, the major may have to rely on his original plan after all. If he couldn't repair the damaged system, he'd need the alternative fuel.

After his double had paced for five minutes, he sighed and went inside the ship again. Reed moved back, careful to place each foot before he put his weight on it, moving as silently as possible. When he judged himself far enough away, he flicked on his handheld, pulled out his scanner, and began the trek back to the marked cave system. He figured he had perhaps an hour where he could be seen by the crew without arousing suspicion. Once or twice he'd been seen on the planet when he was supposed to be on board ship, but the crew members hadn't put it together. He'd been careful to avoid people he knew: Mayweather, Tucker, Archer.

He hadn't been able to figure out a way he could get on board ship. Not only did he need an EV suit, but the pilot would log him in for the trip up to the ship; it was too great a risk. It bothered him that his double had access to the ship when he didn't. There was no way for Reed to get on board and discover what Major Reed was doing up there. He knew his double had snuck on board the Suliban cell ship stored on board Enterprise, but no doubt he had been doing other things while there. He just didn't know what. Likely he had made sure that Enterprise would remain uninhabitable until he could get his hands on the fuel.

Why had it taken two days for Major Reed to head for the Suliban ship? Had it taken him that long to get the component he needed? And where had he gotten the tools for the repair? They could have been on board the Suliban cell ship in the cave, or perhaps he'd lugged them to the cave with him, tools tucked into the ubiquitous backpack.

Reed finally reached the marked cave system, and from there, he made his way toward the big cave that had become the de facto common area. He was just quickening his pace, anticipating a proper hot meal instead of a nutripak, when a crew member in the cave he was hurrying through stood up and turned around. It was Trip Tucker.

"Malcolm!" Tucker said as Reed froze.

"Commander." Reed managed what he hoped was a friendly smile, suddenly very aware of the two other crew members in the cave. He was just about to say, "I haven't seen you in a while," but he choked it off because he suddenly realized he didn't know whether it was true. He settled for, "I'm feeling a bit peckish. Would you like to join me for a bite to eat? I was just heading to the mess."

"Sure." Tucker's voice sounded normal. In fact, he looked and behaved absolutely like usual. No awkwardness was evident, and he made direct eye contact, open and friendly, like usual. There was no evidence, in short, that he and Reed were new lovers. "Let me just finish up here." He gestured at the neatly wrapped bedrolls.

Reed, who had carefully not thought about Tucker for the past two days, was thrown into confusion. Had anything actually happened between Major Reed and Tucker? He couldn't tell from Tucker's behavior. Or had his double lied about it? If that was the case, he didn't want to think too closely about the source of the taste in his mouth after they'd shared that awful kiss, the one that had so convinced him of the truth of what the major told him.

"Can we take the lantern, Commander?" one of the crew members asked. "We need it for the inventory, and it sounds like you're just about done here."

"Um...yes." Tucker pulled a handheld light from his pocket and turned it on. "Go ahead, Crewman Kelly."

"Thanks, sir." The crew member picked it up, and she and the other crew member departed. Without the lantern, it suddenly seemed very dark. Reed turned his light back on.

"Just about done here." Tucker turned and knelt. "Malcolm, if you could just—"

"Of course, sir." Reed took Tucker's proffered handheld and held both lights to shine on the bedroll Tucker was preparing.

Tucker fussed with the bindings, laying them out carefully before he began to roll. "It's easier to count them when they're rolled and stacked." He leaned forward as the bedroll threatened to explode open. "Where have you been sleeping, Malcolm?" he asked, a little too casually.

"White cave system," Reed responded, encouraged. Tucker was as nervous as he was, now that they were alone. "I take it you're here in the green caves?"

"Yes, green." Tucker got his knee on top of the bedroll to subdue it. "Me, T'Pol, and the cap'n share a cave." He added hastily, "We're never there at the same time, and the ensign assigned to the cap'n is usually there."

"Hmm," Reed said noncommittally. Things had somehow gotten awkward, and the doubts that had just plagued him were replaced with something else: hope, which manifested as a kind of sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"There." Tucker stood up abruptly. Reed, unprepared, took a hasty step backward to avoid knocking into him, slid on a rock, and landed hard on his tailbone with an "oof." The handheld skittered away.

"Sorry," they said simultaneously, and Tucker gave a nervous laugh as he extended his hand to help Reed up.

Tucker spoke in a rush, not letting go of Reed's hand after he had regained his feet. "I keep hoping we'll run into each other. But it's always in the common area, or in the shuttlepod up."

That was good. Not much had had time to develop between the other Reed and Tucker, then. "Well, things are so busy," Reed said lamely. Now was the time, if he was going to tell Tucker about Major Reed's presence. After all, it was his duty, as the person in charge of ship's security. But then again, he hadn't gone straight to the captain when he'd freed himself, as he should have. He'd been waiting, he supposed—waiting to see whether it was true, whether his double had managed to make the move that Reed had never been able to make.

If it was true, he now realized, he would keep his double's secret, because if he and Tucker had started something, he didn't want to end it. Best to pretend it had been him all along. That had been his motivation all along, and he didn't like to think of himself as the kind of officer who would withhold important information for a personal reason.

"Busy," Tucker echoed. Reed held the light so it reflected off Tucker's blue uniform. The dispersed light eerily underlit Tucker's face. "We haven't had time to—to talk." His face came encouragingly closer to Reed's.

"Talk," Reed agreed, lifting his head. Tucker's nearness, the implications of words, shorted out Reed's brain. He was fairly sure he was incapable of coherent speech. Their noses bumped lightly. He knew what he wanted to do—bridge the gap and take Tucker's mouth with his own. Instead, he held back, because Major Reed loomed between them.

"We should really talk." Tucker sounded breathless. "I mean—you know. Talk."

"Yes. Talk." Reed moved infinitesimally closer. Another second, and he'd break.

"Hell," Tucker swore, and he grabbed Reed and kissed him.

Reed dropped the other handheld light and slid his arms around the taller man's neck. His fuzzy concern—how had Major Reed done this, and how could Reed arrange things so that Tucker didn't know it hadn't been him the whole time?—was immediately lost as the kiss deepened. They clung to each other, the only illumination the inadequate light of the two handheld lights, one of which lit their feet. Reed had always wondered what it would be like to kiss a willing Tucker. His imagination hadn't managed to conjure up the little noises of desperation, or Tucker's heat and hardness pressing into his stomach, or the taste of Tucker's mouth. His pent-up desire made him aggressive, pushing his mouth hard against Tucker's, using his tongue, and Tucker responded wildly.

"Oh, lord," Tucker gasped as Reed pushed Tucker's back against the cave wall and fumbled for the zipper pull. "Hurry. Here." His unzipped his own uniform and desperately shrugged it down past his waist as Reed did the same thing himself. "I've been thinking about this for two days."

"Mmm," Reed said in agreement, dropping to his knees as he hooked his fingers in Tucker's briefs and pulled them down. He wanted leisure to explore Tucker's body, touching and stroking it, learning it with his mouth, but that would have to wait. He steadied Tucker with one hand as he closed his mouth around the hardness. Tucker's moans made his own erection pound. Tucker gently ran a hand through his hair, caressing the tender hairless area above his ears, and sliding around to cover the back of Reed's neck. Reed was too distracted to feel Tucker touch the wound on the back of his neck, gently circling it as he explored for a few seconds before he pressed his hand against it and encouraged Reed to take him deeper.

"Don't slow down," Tucker begged when Reed pulled back. "We can go slow next time."

Next time. Reed liked the sound of that. He took Tucker in his mouth again and sucked, hard and rhythmically, nose brushing Tucker's pubic hair. Tucker's musky scent went straight to his hindbrain and blacked everything out. He was only aware of Tucker's arousal and pleasure and of his own stunning physical response, his groin heavy and ready. If Tucker could put his mouth on him right now, he would come without any preliminaries. Just feeling his hands on his head, neck, and shoulders made him faint from desire. He wanted to feel and taste Tucker as he came, hear Tucker say his name as—

Just the thought did it. He teetered on the knife's edge of desire and slid off the wrong side. He was going to come, and he couldn't go back. He released Tucker and pressed his mouth against Tucker's stomach, feeling the faint prickle of hair. It hid his cries of desperation. He squeezed one of Tucker's buttocks as he took himself in hand. His nose was filled with Tucker's scent, and his body brimmed with pleasure beyond capacity to process it. He lost his words as sensation cascaded. He rubbed himself frantically and came almost at once, mouthing and kissing Tucker's stomach, his groans of fulfillment and ecstasy muffled against Tucker's warm body.

"Oh, lord, Malcolm," Tucker groaned as if it was too much to bear, then reached for himself.

The first pulse of Tucker's orgasm splattered against his face, and Reed dropped lower so he could take Tucker back into his mouth. He rubbed his tongue against the heavy ridge of Tucker's hardness, and Tucker said his name as Reed took over, licking, then swallowing as Tucker jetted uncontrollably, hips moving. He wanted to stretch out Tucker's coming, make it last, and he used all his skill to do just that, dipping his head between spurts to take him deeper, gentling his mouth each time Tucker's penis squeezed and then exploded, until Tucker collapsed back, spent.

When they'd been quiet for a minute, Reed murmured, "Trip," his cheek against Tucker's stomach, Tucker's hands in his hair. He managed to get to his feet, his heart still pounding. He felt languorous and replete. "That was lovely," he whispered as he nuzzled Tucker's jaw. In the dark, time seemed to have stopped. He had no idea how much time had passed—probably only about five or ten minutes, considering their desperation.

"Lovely doesn't do it." Tucker kept his voice low too. He touched Reed's still-wet cheek. "Let me wipe that off." He did so by kissing Reed, long and deep, and then moving to the side. Reed closed his eyes and relished every moment as Tucker kissed and licked him clean, taking his time. "Sorry about that." He captured Reed's earlobe. "When you came like that, on your knees, just from sucking me—" He broke off as the mere thought made Reed grab him and cover his mouth with his own. "It's driving me crazy, acting normal. When we get back on board Enterprise," Tucker continued, "I'm going to get you in my bed, and I'm going to—"

Whatever he was going to do in that bed was lost as they heard the sound of laughter and voices coming close.

"Damn it," Tucker hissed, and he and Reed broke apart as they both frantically began pulling their uniforms over their shoulders. "It has to do with the energy potentiation of the lattice structure," Tucker said loudly to cover up the rustling and zipping sounds.

"What are its possibilities for the ship?" Reed inquired just as loudly. He felt a twinge as he shrugged his uniform over his shoulders. He was bruised from chest to waist from Major Reed's kicks, and the tailbone-cracking fall he'd just taken had done him no good either. He had forgotten about his aches and pains when Tucker had taken him in his arms. He needed to arrange some kind of accident for himself to cover up the bruises—a minor rock fall, perhaps. He hoped the darkness had hidden his sorry state otherwise.

Tucker reached down for one of the handheld lights. "It depends on how much energy is released when it combusts. If I fill the remainder of the tank with argon instead of oxygen and nitrogen—instead of regular air—we ought to get an increase in efficiency of 200 percent."

"Hmm," Reed said, trying to sound interested as he anxiously pulled at his blue undershirt which had gotten caught in the zip. He turned away as the crew members they'd heard entered. Luckily, they didn't have a lantern with them. He managed to finish zipping up just as they greeted Tucker.

"This must be your light, Lieutenant," one of the crew members said, leaning down and picking it up.

"Yes, thanks," Reed said, accepting it from him. "I'm afraid I lost my footing—slid on a rock. It got away from me." Before the crew member could say anything, he added, "Does Chef still have hot food?"

"Sloppy joes," the other crew member said cheerfully. "Better hurry, before the shuttlepod gets here and there's a line."

"Shall we, Lieutenant?" Tucker said, and the two of them exited the cave.

They walked for a few minutes in silence. One time Tucker steadied him, letting the touch linger. Then:

"We really should talk," Tucker offered.

"Absolutely," Reed agreed. He knew very well what happened whenever they tried to talk. "Your quarters, when we get back on board?" He had an idea what he'd like to do there.

"Good idea."

PART 8

Major Reed reattached the coupling in the Suliban cell ship and tried again. "Damn it," he swore, imbuing the words with all his rage and frustration. The part he'd stolen from the Suliban cell ship on board Enterprise hadn't fit—no doubt some minor difference in the way the technology worked between the two universes. When he had held the two units next to each other, they had looked identical, but something about the inner workings meant that the new one wouldn't attach properly. It was useless.

Not only did the part not work, but he'd almost been stranded on Enterprise after he'd obtained it when the launch bay doors froze, and the extra time he'd been gone had allowed Lieutenant Reed to escape. And the doors to all the launch bays had somehow gone offline, so he couldn't remove the cell ship. He'd been back on board twice in the four days since then, but he hadn't bothered to return the component. The trips had been to make sure that Enterprise's life-support system would stay broken after an engineering tech, during a routine diagnostic, had unknowingly replaced the component that Reed had altered. The system had worked for a few hours, raising everyone's hopes, until Reed had had an opportunity to take care of it again.

He'd had no trouble finding a pretext to go on board: his security-systems background uniquely qualified him for certain kinds of engineering systems, and Reed, much like his lieutenant counterpart, he imagined, had no trouble figuring out how they worked, and how to check and repair them. He ran his diagnostics, sabotaged the ship, and made sure he was in clear sight of several crew members when the system went down again so no one would suspect.

It was all down to the fuel, then. The Suliban ship's secondary fuel system was optimized for the lattice fuel, which was the reason he'd decided on this particular plan. It wasn't in his nature to skulk quietly in the shadows, but this whole op had that stink, and he didn't like it. He had to get out before he affected his own world. The longer he stayed, the more he realized that he would have great difficulty fitting in here, and the more worried he got about being trapped in this universe.

If he were to get stuck here, he would have to dispose of his double and impersonate him, at least at first. He'd have to resign Lieutenant Reed's commission, but then what? Become a mercenary, most likely. His current career track—that is, Lieutenant Reed's career track—wouldn't permit him to join the MACOs. In his own world, he'd worked hard to join the elite marine force. They were the first on the scene, and Reed liked their reputation. But in his universe, they were always at war with someone. In this one, the only all-out war was the one with the Xindi, which apparently Earth sought to fight by stealth, not by force. Although a human-Xindi war could be interesting, he'd much rather go home, where the tactics he used and enjoyed were appreciated instead of looked at with horror. He'd had to scramble to cover up what he thought Doctor Phlox would call a lack of empathy so that others wouldn't wonder about his double's changed attitude.

Reed unscrewed a coupling for the fuel system and examined it. He caught sight of faint scratches around the edges of the screw thread. It looked like a simple case of being unable to catch the thread properly when it was rotated. It was slipping, and when it was halfway in, he couldn't make it track correctly. His increased pressure only made it seize.

He bent to his task, but his mind turned to Lieutenant Reed. He hadn't been surprised when he'd escaped. In fact, he'd been expecting it, particularly when he was unavoidably delayed. He had been surprised that Lieutenant Reed hadn't turned him in. He'd expected a search party would track him down and imprison him, and when they didn't, he'd figured his double had a plan of his own, and it involved not getting in his way. Still, he found himself continually on the lookout. He jumped at sudden noises and kept looking over his shoulder.

He also had to consider Tucker. He'd done what he could to avoid the man, scheduling himself away from Tucker's activities so he could minimize their contact, all the while trying to do his best to keep it, as he and Lieutenant Reed had called it, status quo. They'd had one quick snog and grope when, despite all his best efforts, they'd found themselves alone. Luckily, they'd been interrupted in the nick of time, and Reed had been able to slip away. He supposed the inconvenience was worth it. It had been less than a week, and things were progressing nicely. Tucker kept him apprised of the progress of the prototype lattice fuel, and as soon as Tucker declared it ready, Reed would get his hands on it. He was almost done here. He'd fuel up, power up, exit the cave system by the route he'd come in, and then he'd be off.

Reed tried the coupling again, moving it gently and slowly to maximize his chances. It wasn't just that Tucker wanted Lieutenant Reed physically; it was the look on Tucker's face when their eyes happened to catch, a kind of pathetic desperation that could have only one explanation. Love. If they talked for more than two minutes, he knew Tucker would burst forth with his emotions and feelings. He'd want to talk about the relationship. And Reed didn't want to waste his time with that. It wasn't his relationship, after all. He was just keeping Tucker warm for the lieutenant, although—and Reed liked this bit—no doubt it was killing the lieutenant to know what Reed was up to, making out with his boyfriend, even fucking him for all the lieutenant knew. He tried to look on the bright side: men weren't really his thing, but this Tucker was smart and fairly good-looking, and his desperation was its own kind of turn-on. It could be a lot worse.

"Finally!" he exclaimed as the coupling slid on smoothly. He tightened it fully and shook it to test its strength. It was ready. All he needed now was the fuel. He'd need to optimize its rate as it fed into the engine, but that should be it.

He exited the cell ship, hyperspanner in hand, and stopped abruptly when he caught sight of a familiar man lounging against the side of the cell ship. "You," he hissed.

"Hello, Major," Lieutenant Reed drawled, a hard edge to his voice. He kicked a tank at his feet. "Look. I brought you a gift. I hope you like it."

Major Reed stared at the lieutenant's face, questions crowding out his rage. He settled for dropping his gaze to the tank. "There are two tanks," he pointed out.

His double tapped each with his foot as he named it. "Fuel. Argon."

"Argon?"

His double nodded. Reed could sense his alertness. He was ready to fight—in fact, he expected to. Lieutenant Reed said, "According to Commander Tucker, you fill in the head space with argon, not breathable air. It apparently makes the fuel far more effective."

Reed clutched his head. "Argon, of course," he ground out. "I knew that." He had known, but he'd forgotten. If he'd tried this maneuver with the nitrogen-oxygen mixture that comprised the air, not with argon—well, he wouldn't have gotten home. The fuel would propel the cell ship, but it wouldn't provide the power needed to permit him to cross to his universe.

Lieutenant Reed moved his hand, as if idly, and Reed realized he held one of those pathetic phase pistols. It wasn't trained on him, which was encouraging, but he knew his double could take him down in an instant. His own tiny weapon was in his pocket, but he doubted the lieutenant would give him the opportunity to get it out and stun him.

"I need a few things in trade," the lieutenant said almost pleasantly. "My communicator, and the item you stole from the Suliban cell ship on board Enterprise. Oh, and you need to tell me what you did to incapacitate life support. I checked the component you said you reversed, but the engineering tech said there was nothing wrong with it."

"You don't need much, then, do you?" Major Reed crossed his arms and leaned against the hull of the little ship, exuding confidence, carelessness, and arrogance—at least, he hoped he did. "All right. Done."

He took the communicator out of his pocket, ostentatiously holding his other hand up, fingers open wide, in the universal gesture that went with, "I'm reaching into my pocket, but don't shoot." His hand ran over other items in his pocket, including his little weapon. But he bypassed it, instead pulling out and displaying the communicator. When the lieutenant reached out his hand, he placed it in his palm. He held his hand there for a long moment, their hands pressed together, communicator between them. He surveyed his double's face, but he couldn't read anything there. He let go. "The component didn't fit. With this fuel, I don't need it anyway—it's for the other engine." He jerked his head, indicating the cell ship's door. "It's inside."

"Fine." His double picked up one of the squat, heavy tanks, the movement effortless in the light gravity. He lifted the tank higher in a small gesture. "After you."

Reed led the way. "Why are you helping me?" he tossed over his shoulder.

The response was terse: "The sooner you get off my ship, the sooner I get my life back."

Reed believed it. "Something to do with Trip Tucker, I'm sure," he taunted, but his double didn't rise to the bait. He indicated a site on the floor of the ship. "There, please."

"Wait," the lieutenant warned when Reed made for the door. "Allow me to escort you." He lifted the weapon slightly in a "you first" gesture. It was just the sort of move he himself would have made. Reed hadn't gotten over the uncanny nature of their resemblance. He found it particularly odd to hear his voice. He knew what he sounded like from recordings, but to hear it emanating from someone else with such accuracy—well, it seemed very, very wrong, just like everything else in this universe.

Sarcasm dripped from Reed's voice. "So kind. Thank you." He carried in the argon tank, which was slightly smaller. "I used a small charge to blow the lines to the power equalization system," he offered as he hooked the tank to the engine's subsidiary tank. "I needed a time delay," he added defensively at the lieutenant's glare. "It had just undergone a diagnostic, so I thought they wouldn't look there first. And it wasn't easy to rig a charge on delay with no oxygen about."

Lieutenant Reed didn't look impressed, although it had been a fine bit of jury-rigging. "Here. Allow me."

"The gravity first. Just a moment." Reed closed the cell ship door. The gravity automatically activated. He needed Earth-normal gravity while he set everything up. He turned away from the console and his eyes fell on the component that didn't fit. He handed it silently to the lieutenant, who put it in a pocket.

They filled the tank with argon first, completely expelling the air. Then they swapped out the now-heavy tanks and filled the fuel receptacle three-quarters full, Major Reed carefully venting it to permit enough space for the fuel and to keep the argon at the correct volume, without compressing it.

"How are you going to explain the loss of the fuel?" Reed asked as he unhooked the portable fuel tank.

"I'm not." At Reed's questioning look, the lieutenant expanded on the topic. "It's going to blow up. Pity it's so unstable," he added. "It looked so promising."

"How unfortunate." Reed tapped the portable fuel tank. "Do you need this?"

The lieutenant considered it. "No, but best not bring back anything from this universe that will persist. Do you have another tank we can decant this into?"

Reed got one, and they transferred the reserve fuel to it. When they were done, they both stood up.

"I hope this is goodbye." Lieutenant Reed almost offered his hand.

Major Reed, amused, didn't offer his either. "I sincerely hope so," he agreed. "Will you tell them about me?"

His double shrugged. "It's too late now, isn't it?"

Reed considered that. The lieutenant wasn't telling him everything, but he found he didn't care. Whatever his double's motivations were, no doubt they were sound. This was a version of him, after all. That, he realized uncomfortably, perhaps more so than the possible repercussions of what would happen to his chances of returning to his universe, was what had kept him from killing Lieutenant Reed when it would have been more expedient to get rid of him.

His double continued, "If I'd told anyone right away, all we would have done was help you, while also keeping you under guard and repairing the ship. No, better to let you handle it yourself. Once I'd decided that, I made myself complicit. I couldn't go to Captain Archer. Better to go not at all than too late. I also doubt you're a security risk, because you're not presaging a full-scale invasion." He paused, his eyes hard. "Or are you planning a full-scale invasion?"

"Hardly," Reed said drily. He opened the hatch, and the gravity immediately changed. "The whole event was a fluke, a bizarre mix of circumstances which are unlikely to ever occur again. The energy cost and trouble make it seem unlikely."

"Still. If you do find yourself in the neighborhood—" Reed picked up the tanks, once again able to handle them easily. "—do please avoid me. Do not look me up. Have a safe journey. The tank will blow in an hour, if you'd like to time your exit to coincide with it."

The cell ship's excellent cloaking system meant that such a precaution wasn't necessary, but it did have a nice touch of drama that Reed liked. "Thank you for your help, Lieutenant." Reed followed him to the hatch.

The lieutenant exited, awkward under the burden of the tanks. Reed, arms crossed, watched him go. The lieutenant looked back once, as if he didn't trust Reed, before he went around the corner of the ship.

Reed laughed as he closed the doors. He'd gotten what he wanted: the fuel. It looked like his double would take care of all the details on this end to cover up his departure.

No one would ever know he had been here—including the powers in his own universe, because he had no intention of dealing with the bureaucracy and paperwork and scans that would happen if he confessed his adventures. The whole unfortunate incident could be forgotten. Everything would be status quo on both ends.

PART 9

Tucker leaned down and plucked the empty glass of Scotch from Reed's fingers. "Allow me, Malcolm," he said, taking the two steps to the table bearing the bottle.

"I'm fine, Trip. Do stop coddling me." Reed smiled, that intimate smile that Tucker knew was for him alone, because he'd only seen it recently. "It was nothing."

He splashed two fingers of Scotch in the glass and settled himself next to Reed on the small bed. For all Reed's protestations, Tucker knew he liked the attention. "That rock fall looked pretty serious to me."

Reed accepted the glass and touched it to his lips. Tucker found himself watching Reed's mouth—the mouth that had finally had the freedom to roam all over his body when they'd had a moment alone. "I'm sure it looked more frightening than it felt." Reed considered the glass, turning it so the amber liquid caught the light. "It would have been much worse in Earth-normal gravity. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm sorry the fuel was so unstable," he added, touching Tucker's knee, then moving aside the white bathrobe so his hand could wander up. "It really did look promising."

"I have a sample of the ore. We can try again." He'd marked the project as low priority, however, on Cooper's advice. She wanted more time to study it. He had other business to attend to, so he'd been happy to let it go, particularly when they no longer needed it as a possible source of fuel for Enterprise's life-support system. Tucker stretched luxuriously. "The right gravity, the right air, Enterprise up and running, you here—"

Reed curled his left leg around Tucker's legs and leaned in for a kiss. He tasted like Scotch. "Mmm," Reed purred, and the kiss ignited.

Tucker took Reed in his arms, awkwardly keeping his Scotch upright. He didn't understand how it could happen so quickly, that escalation, when the kiss turned into a prelude to something more. When he thought of their encounter in the cave, when Reed had come just from tasting him, he felt a pulse of pleasure flush his body. Hours ago, they'd started in the shower when the ship was back on course and everything was back to normal, including their shifts. He'd been appalled to see the bruises covering Reed's body. He'd made Reed promise to go see Doctor Phlox first thing in the morning to get them tended to.

And there was that other thing—the wound on the back of Reed's neck. First he'd had it, then his neck had been unblemished, then it had been a larger gash, then it had been gone again. Tucker hadn't asked about it. He had a suspicion—a feeling—that something had happened. He couldn't explain it, any more than he could explain the disappearing and reappearing cut, but he also trusted Reed. If Reed wasn't saying anything, then there was a reason, just like there was a reason Reed had been standing right next to him when he ran a search for Reed's chip, only to discover that Reed was apparently at least six kilometers away, deep in the cave system.

He knew Reed had trust issues—well, Tucker had issues of his own. He didn't ask Reed about it, just like Reed waited for Tucker to bring up Elizabeth, his feelings, his anger, all of it. And he would. But right now, the comfort of the body exceeded all else. He didn't want to think. He just wanted to feel. He wanted to cancel out the psychic pain he'd felt when he'd realized Elizabeth had been killed by the Xindi weapon that had raked Earth. He'd been doing nothing but feel for weeks, and it was time to feel something other than horror, pain, and loss. How had he not realized that the person he'd needed had been there the whole time? It was a wonder Reed had finally made a move. If he hadn't, he'd still be longing for T'Pol's unobtainable body.

"Here." Reed took his glass of Scotch and placed both on the deck next to the bed.

He rolled onto his side, Tucker moving to accommodate him. The narrowness of the bed didn't strike Tucker as a problem in this context. Reed undid the soft tie of Tucker's bathrobe, then undid his own. He slid underneath the top fold of Tucker's bathrobe, and Tucker slid his hand under Reed's bathrobe, caressing his buttock. Reed made small noises when they kissed, which Tucker found intensely erotic. Whenever he tried to think too hard about how he felt, all he had to do was touch Reed, and thinking went by the wayside. He knew it was right, and he knew that Reed wanted him—that Reed had wanted him for years, ever since the shuttlepod incident. Tucker had no idea how Reed had been able to conceal it.

"Tell me what you want, Malcolm," he commanded. Reed's erection burned against him. He touched Reed gently, appalled at the bruising, but Reed hardly seemed to notice. At Reed's hesitation, he whispered, "Anything."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"You inside me," Reed admitted. "And hard. Very, very hard."

"I remember hard." Tucker leaned in for another kiss as his hand enfolded Reed's balls. He squeezed, then increased the pressure until Reed exhaled suddenly, grabbed him, and rubbed himself against Tucker. "And fast?"

"Fast would be ideal." Reed slid Tucker's bathrobe off his shoulder, then put his mouth against the skin there. "Slow was nice," he hastened to assure Tucker.

"Slow was very nice," Tucker agreed. He clambered over Reed and got the lube.

They started side by side, with Tucker's slick fingers opening Reed, working his penis, pulling back the foreskin and rubbing the tip with his thumb, coming up for air between kisses. Reed kissed desperately, as if he were drowning. He kept his hand on Tucker's cock. When Tucker's fingers began dipping in and out of Reed's body, reaching in deep and then releasing, Reed gave up any pretense of stroking Tucker properly.

"On hands and knees," Reed gasped, and Tucker rolled aside so Reed could get onto all fours. "Please," Reed added, desperation tingeing his voice, throwing a glance at Tucker over his shoulder.

Tucker positioned himself behind Reed and stroked himself up to fullness, spreading the last of the lube. He loved Reed's reaction to his touch, and he knew this would be no exception. He pushed the cap of his slick penis inside Reed and stopped, enjoying the tightness around him. He slid in all the way, slowly, slowly, until his balls pressed against Reed's buttocks and Reed gave a strangled cry, saying, "Please, Trip. Hard."

He loved Reed like this—open, begging. Tucker pulled himself most of the way out, then thrust in hard. The pleasure hit him inside his balls. Reed dropped his head, as if bracing himself, and Tucker took a deep breath and did it all again, finding a rhythm even as Reed contracted around him, as if wanting to keep Tucker inside. He forced himself to focus so he wouldn't come. He did his best to ignore the pleasure his body was experiencing, instead focusing on Reed's.

"That's right," Reed groaned.

The low noises that came next, almost like sobbing, almost drove Tucker over the edge, but he clutched Reed's hips hard in his hands. Reed really did like it hard, and Tucker gave up attempting to modulate his strokes. He pounded Reed while Reed held himself rock steady. When Reed started butting back, trying for even more sensation, Tucker knew he couldn't last. The top of each thrust was sending a pulse through Tucker's body that was going to turn into orgasm in a few more strokes, whether Reed was ready or not.

He reached down and under, just managing to capture Reed's balls in his hand. He squeezed awkwardly as he thrust, trying to keep a solid rhythm, and dear lord, he wasn't going to be able to hang on. Reed stiffened, then said, "Christ, Trip," and came. He shook underneath Tucker, who felt him clench and tremble inside. He couldn't hold out any longer; he couldn't wait. He gave one final thrust forward and held himself there, jerking himself deeper and deeper as he poured himself into Reed, aware only of tightness and heat as he spurted endlessly.

He released Reed's balls and pulled out. Reed immediately collapsed onto the bed, then rolled onto his back. "Trip," he murmured, his face incandescent. His belly and chest were wet with semen, although most of it had rubbed off on the bedclothes. Tucker leaned down to kiss a nipple and lap at the remains of the liquid.

"You weren't kidding about liking it hard," Tucker told him, settling onto his side. Their fingers interlaced. He'd never pounded anybody like that. Nor had he felt anybody come so hard.

Reed rubbed Tucker's thumb with his own. "Does it bother you?" he asked, but he didn't look as concerned as Tucker thought he might. Reed knew what he was going to say, then.

"No." Tucker leaned down for a kiss. "It really doesn't. Because you enjoy it." That` was an understatement. If anybody grabbed his balls as hard as he'd grabbed Reed's, he'd be screaming in agony, yet it had made Reed hot, driving him to the edge of orgasm.

"Oh, I do." Reed rolled onto his side, and Tucker slid down, arm coming around Reed, fingers ghosting over his stomach. Contentment suffused him. This had been a long time coming, he realized. "Can we sleep like this, I wonder?"

"Guess we'll find out," Tucker said. He kissed the healing wound on Reed's neck. "You have a cut back here," he offered, knowing he might be treading on dangerous ground.

"Do I?" Reed reached back and touched it. "It probably happened in the rock fall." He sounded sleepy. "I'm sure Doctor Phlox can fix it when I go in tomorrow."

The cut had been there before the rock fall. Tucker had seen it with his own eyes. What had happened, there on the planet? Tucker might never know.

"I guess we still need to talk," Tucker said after a minute of silence.

"All right." Reed didn't turn to face him, which made it easier to speak, but he cuddled closer, reassuring Tucker with his body. "Whenever you like, Trip. About whatever you need to talk about. Did you want to talk about us?"

Tucker considered. "No," he decided. "Other than that there is an us." Being with Reed didn't cause him angst or pain—quite the contrary. With Reed, he felt comfortable and relaxed. It was far better than T'Pol's neuropressure sessions, where awkwardness and strangled physical desire warred with T'Pol's admonitions to focus and remain calm. No, he'd start by telling Reed about the headaches, about Doctor Phlox's concerns, about his nightmares. "You know? Never mind. Later."

"Mmm," Reed murmured in agreement, cuddling closer.

Tucker closed his eyes. He may have found his cure: he didn't think he'd be having nightmares tonight, not with his body sated and Reed in his arms.

***

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