Disclaimer: I don't own Archer or Captain Erika Hernandez, but I think they'd make a great couple! I also don't know if the rock climbing scene between the two of them took place in California or not, but let's just say it did, mkay? Doesn't matter much, anyhow. This is partially inspired by that one line of that one Pink Floyd song… two lost souls swimmin' in a fishbowl year after year…
This just sprung kind of randomly into my mind; I wasn't even trying to work on my writing style or anything, it just came to me. Anyway. Enjoy.
Two of the Same
They're two of the same, he and she: Starfleet Captains, loners. They're cut from the same fabric, those two, although you probably couldn't tell at first glance.
They're two Captains; he's a bit older, seen a bit more in his five years at this rank (especially this last one). She's newly promoted, spent a bit too much time at the level of Commander, but she's been through almost as much. Neither of them are strangers to pain.
They're two outsiders, two outcasts, and he doesn't need anybody. Not Trip, not Forrest, and he doesn't need her and she doesn't need him.
They're two people and they're cynical in their understanding that true love is a myth, and he realizes that in the end it's just meaningless dribble and she realizes that in the end it's just empty sex. They're two of the most miserable people you'll ever meet, and you'd never know it, from their stoic faces. They don't even know it.
They're on a mountain, the two Captains, climbing in the dead of night, although they know it's not safe. He says he needs to get away from her and she's says she's going with him.
They've stopped to rest now, and he's asleep, tossing and flailing in his navy blue sleeping bag. There's moisture shining on his face; she'll give him the benefit of the doubt and call it sweat. He's seen a lot, but he'll never talk about it, and she'll never ask him, because there's an unspoken understanding between the two of the. Even if they fall in love and even if they believe it's real, they're two cynics and anything they say will be empty and meaningless at its core.
They don't need anyone, but the wind is blowing harder and she's freezing her ass off, and now he's awake and shivering too. Between the two of them they've only a blanket and two sleeping bags, because they never thought it would be this cold in California.
She doesn't ask his permission but slides into his sleeping bag with him and lies down next to him, and they press together, awkwardly, for warmth. Eventually that fades and they being to melt together, little by little, until they feel less cold. She has her hands in his hair to keep her fingers from freezing, and his icy hands are pressed against her warm hips.
She looks into his eyes and sees herself, and it's a bit disquieting, but it's fitting too. He looks into her eyes and sees beauty and promise, himself a few years ago, and he doesn't understand the irony that she doesn't think that way at all. She's not an optimist. She's not a dreamer.
They're just two lost souls, alone and confused; they're two Captains, and they'll never say they need each other. They'll never understand themselves, so they'll never really understand each other. But it's very cold, very windy on that mountain. They press together tighter.