AN: As an author, I'm really not happy with this chapter. The first part is a bit of a filler. There are some tender and endearing moments between Trip and Jon towards the end. In terms of plot, we don't get a lot. We do get a sense of storm clouds on the horizon. As Anastasia said in her review, Jon's been on his own a long time and Trip's new to a committed relationship. I hope you enjoy and any suggestions will be considered. I can promise the story will start to move along, time wise, from the next part on.
"Do you think you will ever join the family company?" Jon asked, settling into his seat on the transport back to San Francisco. Any discussion about that topic had been off limits, as had many others while they remained with the Tucker family. Archer learnt to navigate the complex politics quickly. The last five days proved less trying than the weekend, especially after the O'Shea's confirmed Trip's suspicions. He would become an uncle in six months.
Sunday, Lizzy and James managed to disappear when the ruckus started after Victoria's not so surprise announcement at the end of brunch. Trip stayed around long enough to congratulate his sister and her husband, before suggesting he give his Mama and Daddy time with the expectant family. Vicky rolled her eyes in that way; a gesture Archer was coming to see as a particular Tucker trait. It meant 'thanks for nothing, why don't you just abandon me!'.
They'd spent a couple of hours walking hand in hand long the pristine sand, discussing what they'd do for the rest of the week. While they took in the sights around Panama City, each considered their expectations, personal and professional, when they returned to California. Neither Jon nor Trip quite knew what their new roles at The Complex would entail, but they were excited to be embarking on this new phase of their life, if a little nervous about entwined their living arrangements and all that it entailed. Being on holiday was not the same as sharing an apartment long term. The shine would soon wear off as reality set in.
Discussing their hopes and fears over the next few days, they agreed their relationship should remain low keyed but open with their colleagues. Jon's rules would stay in effect while on duty. Intimacy would be relegated to their shared domicile and the weekends. That didn't preclude mutual friendships with work mates, or going out to social functions as a couple, unless in an official capacity. The rest, they would have to make up as they went along.
Snorting at the thought of adding his skills to the family business, Trip shook his head, turning his amused baby blues on Jon. "I'm not sure if you got the fact, but Jamie's the one with a head for business. Like the rest of us, he's finished his high school requirements at least a year early. He's waiting to take an internship in August. Daddy insisted he start at the bottom and work is way up. My brother spent every moment at the office ever since I can remember. He used to force Grandpa to take him along, just to make sure he'd be the one to take over."
"I didn't get a lot of time to speak with James," Jon responded. "He's the silent type."
"Yeh, that he is. Hilarious, when he gets to know you. Jamie wouldn't think twice about pulling a prank, and keep a straight face throughout the whole thing with that 'what me, no way' expression. Who do you think taught me everything I know," lips braking into a wide smile, Trip did that Tucker eye rolling thing. "At least Mama and Daddy will leave us alone for a few years, especially now Vicky's starting a family. My sister's never going to leave Ireland with a husband and baby, so we're safe from the 'how's your relationship progressing, Trip' questions."
"Oh," Jon's unexpected conversation with Charlie the night of Trip's party finally made sense. Tucker's marry and reproduce early, Archer recalled his boyfriends' words as a shiver of apprehension travelled down his spine.
"Don't worry, Jonny," Trip chuckled at the expression of horror crossing Archer's features. "I told you before, and I'm damn sure you heard me telling Grandpa, I'm not one to follow the Tucker herd, or give in to expectations. Besides, living across the country, it'll be James turn to fulfil those hopes before he knows it, especially if he takes over the company. Got to have the next generation of Tucker's on the way."
"What about Lizzy?" Jon asked, curiously.
"She's been drawing houses since I can remember. Mama's made arrangements for my baby sister to work and study architecture with her company," Trip stated. "Not that Lizzy doesn't spend a part of every holiday at the office, learning as much as she can. That is, when she's not out chasing boys or sleeping in late."
"With said boys," Jon teased. He'd been surprised Alice and Charlie allowed their fifteen-year-old daughter's boyfriend to stay over the weekend.
"Mama always said," Trip shook his head, hiding a smile, "she'd rather have her kids under her roof where she knew what they were doing, with who and staying safe. She made us go to the doctor the moment she suspected we were sexually active and start on contraceptives. Drummed in the importance of only making a baby when we were ready. Besides, this was the first time Lizzy's asked to have a boy stay over. We were all about the same age when we started experimenting with, well, intimate situations."
"I'm not sure I would have survived," Jon mocked, "much longer with your family, Trip. Between your Dad and Grandfather, I got a grilling. That pair are better at putting a guy under the microscope than the entire Starfleet Psych Department. Promise me, one week a year, at most."
"Sure. But I can't promise Mama won't find a reason for a surprise visit San Francisco. Besides, you would've survived," Trip returned with a teasing tone and an easy shrug of his shoulder. "You wouldn't have had a choice. Daddy and Grandpa only interrogate people they actually like. I guess you have to stick around now, Jonny, or you'll have all my male relatives after you."
"Not to mention Major O'Shea!" Rolling his eyes, Jon wondered just how much of the Tucker ethos he'd absorbed by osmosis. As much as he wanted to take Trip's hand in his own, lacing their fingers together, they were in uniform, as required by Starfleet regulations on an official shuttle. The holiday was over and they would soon be back to reality. Landing at the Presidio an hour later, they changed into civilian clothing and transitioned to a local transport before walking the last few blocks to Archer's building.
"Well," Jon looked towards his boyfriend as they approached the door, "it looks like we're home."
"Yes," Trip made the word long and low, his heart pounding a little as the truth finally set in. He was anxious, excited, happy, confused and several other emotions he couldn't quite define.
"Second thoughts?" Jon asked, pausing on the side walk. He knew they needed to have this moment, to settle both their nerves.
"Third, fourth and fifth," Trip confessed. "About an equal mix of good and bad."
"We've got the weekend to sort some of them out," Jon responded with a bashful smile. "Besides, I think I can find something to take you mind off the bad, at least for a while."
"Promise," Tucker asked, a cheeky smirk stating he appreciated the attempt to make him feel better.
"You know," Archer lent in, placing an arm around Trip's shoulder, "you're not the only one. Last time I moved in with someone, it didn't end well."
"You won't get rid of me that easily," Trip responded, understanding that he meant it.
The expression, one Jon had never seen before, bespoke determination. "Promise."
"Promise," Trip smiled. "Come on, we never did get a chance to share a shower at my folks."
Shaking his head, Jon used his pass to open the door into the foyer. The Ensign stationed at the desk greeted them with a polite, "Sirs."
"Ensign Galliott," Jon tuned into Commander Archer the moment they stepped over the threshold. Dropping the arm from his lover's shoulders, there were certain protocols that needed addressing in a professional manner. Siding up to the desk and turning to the man at his side, Jon introduced, "Lt. Charles Tucker, better known as Trip."
"I'd like to welcome you to the building, Sir," Remy Galliott addressed Lt. Tucker without so much as an eye blink. Handing over a card with an imbedded data chip, she added in a friendly voice with just a hint of flirtatious teasing, "I'm sure Commander Archer can show you the location of your apartment. However, every new tenant has to undergo an induction. Would tomorrow at 1000 be convent?"
"Sure," Trip stated, somewhat surprised by the ease of this first hurdle. It was more indicative of his own inane emotions than the reality of societies beliefs on same gender relationships. Moving in was proving to be a bigger step than Charles Tucker anticipated. That old fear of failing crept into the his subconscious.
"Ensign Vidal will be on duty in the morning, Sir. I'll ensure he's aware of the appointment," Remy continued in her heavy French accent. "Ensign Wagner came by a few days ago. When your billet came though, we took your belongings up. They're just inside the door."
"Très bien, merci," Trip thanked the woman a little hesitantly. It had been some years since speaking anything but standard.
"Tu parles français," the Ensign asked if Lt. Tucker spoke her native language with some surprise.
"Un peu et pas bien. J'ai appris au lycée et je n'ai pas pratiqué depuis," embarrassed, Tucker turned to Jon, who's expression asked when he'd learnt a language. "Mama made us all take one language throughout school, all the way to our senior year."
"Major O'Shea said you were over achievers," Archer shook his head, realising he shouldn't be surprised.
"Lizzy and James speak three beside Standard," Trip responded, "so Vicky and I are considered a little backwards only knowing two. Hell, Mama's kept up Arabic, even though she hasn't used it since designing half the building on the New Palm Jumeirah in Dubai."
Suddenly realising they'd been ignoring Ensign Galliott, Jon nodded a dismissal. Placing a hand in the middle of Trip back now the ensign knew they were living in a one-bedroom apartment and could take an educated guess at the state of their relationship, Archer didn't see the point of hiding their relationship as he guided Tucker towards the lifts. Grinning, Jon indicated the id card in Trip's hand. Getting the idea, a wicked grin took over.
"I guess I've officially moved in," blue eyes flashed with delight and something more intimate as they stepped into the car. Holding Jon's gaze, both felt their heart rate increase, their pupils dilate and blood rush south. Bags dropped on top of the two boxes containing all of Trip's possessions, the door hardly closed before lips crashed together. Fingers sought and found fasteners, peeling clothing from bodies rapidly heating with passion.
"I'm not christening our place with you against the wall," Jon panted. By the time Archer walked his lover into the all-purpose living room, he knew they'd never make it to the bed, let alone the bathroom. Pushing Trip onto the couch, Archer knelt, his hazel glare demanding his lover stay still, sprawled out before him, so he could feast his eyes on him, so he could come to term with the fact they both lived here, in this space, together.
"I love you," Jon whispered an eternity later, lacing their fingers together. Forcing Trip's hands above his head, Archer's lips descended. Not allowing any other part of his body contact, he was going to make this last as long as possible. Knowing that wouldn't be anywhere near long enough, they had all weekend before they had to report for duty Monday morning.
"You're killing me," Trip tore his mouth away endless minutes later. Blue eyes pleading.
"Patience," Jon whispered, drinking in those lips again, before lifting his head and seeing piteous begging to move faster. "You got to learn patience, sweetheart. Good things come to those who wait."
With that, Jon moved away. "What the hell," Trip came up onto his elbows, watching Archer stand.
Before Tucker could grab anything worthwhile, Jon made sure he was out of reach from Trip's marauding hands. "Supplies are either in the draw beside the bed or my kit," he explained with a wicked grin. "We are not going any further without the proper preparation."
"Bed," Trip growled, clambering off the sofa and pushing Jon in the direction he assumed was the bedroom. Liberating said supplies, he looked at the unopened tube, before turning questioning eyes on his lover. Deciding that conversation could wait, Tucker's glare stated he was done waiting and indicated just where he wanted his boyfriend.
Trip woke to an empty bed. The smell of bacon frying, the feel of heat radiating from the environmental system and sight of weak sunlight cascading through the window showing a glimpse of the bay, forced Tucker to move. They'd not bothered to unpack last night. Instead, the pair showered, located their hastily discarded clothing and redressed. Jon took out Trip to dinner at a local family owned restaurant. They'd enjoyed a simple meal, although it soon became obvious Archer frequented the place regularly. Stopping at a store as they ambled around the neighbourhood in the rapidly cooling evening, Jon picked up some necessary supplies at the local grocers. He'd been gone the better part of eight months and the Ensign assigned to concierge duty had done a spectacular job of closing down Archer's apartment.
Finding his boxers and a t-shirt, Tip padded out to the living room. Letting his nose lead the way, he found Jon in the small attached kitchen. "I didn't know you cooked."
"I enjoy it," Archer indicated the freshly brewed coffee in the machine. "Usually, I don't get much of a chance during the week. I eat at the commissary while on duty, or the 602 if I catch up with friends after work. Sometimes it doesn't seem worth making a mess for one person, so I get take out. Anyway, you'd better get a move on. You've got the building induction in half an hour."
"You coming?" Trip asked, fixing two cups and placing them on the bench. Stealing a rash of bacon, his expression was comical.
"Not right at the moment," Jon looked towards his groin with suppressed mirth. Greeted by Trip's groan, Archer chuckled and indicated he was almost done cooking. "I though you would have been satisfied after last night."
"Why do you think I'm starving," Tucker responded, moving to set the table. Jon pointed a spatula at various cupboards as they continued to talk over the picture of domestic bliss. "I need to take a run, get to know the area. Join me?"
"We can finish up at the water front," Jon acquiesced easily, loading their breakfast onto plates. "Most of the Fleeter's below Commodore level live in Russian Hill. This block's been slowly taken over and new, purpose-built apartment complexes constructed in the last ten years. There's another two just like it, dotted around the neighbourhood with plans for more in the future. I'll point them out. Knob Hill has a similar enclave for the Commodores and some of the civilian consultants, while the Admirals have houses in or near Presidio Heights."
"If Starfleet keeps growing," Trip sighed with delight, chewing furiously and swallowing before continuing, "this whole section of San Francisco will become official housing."
The discussion continued until they made their way down to the lobby. Greeted by Ensign Pablo Vidal, the Peruvian turned out to be knowledgeable about the building, taking Trip through the emergency procedures before showing him the facilities. They were state of the art, just like the security protocols. It took the best part of an hour to complete the tour and accompanying paper work.
"General transport stations two blocks east," the Ensign explained, returning to his desk in the foyer. "A lot of our residents either work at HQ or the Complex, so there are scheduled flyers from the rooftop landing pad. I've taking the liberty of booking you on the same shuttle as Commander Archer, Sir. Monday morning 0730. There's an ensign on duty but we might be a bit difficult to find during the week as that's our busiest period. We can make any arrangements you need. Best way to contact us is through the Starfleet id for this building, that way the message will come directly to the desk computer and whoever's on duty can action it immediately."
"How many apartments?" Trip asked, intrigued. His Mama would love to see this place.
"Forty stories, between two and eight residences per floor," Vidal reeled off the statics easily. "Anything from studios for unmarried Ensigns to family apartments for Captains. We house one hundred and fifty officers, made up of sixty-two couples, twenty-nine with families. Of course, not all couples are like you, both in Starfleet. I can place you on the list for a two bed, which is your right."
"Jon?" Trip asked. He liked the idea.
"How long?" Archer asked, "and will I retain my..our view?"
Frowning, Pablo delivered the sad news. "One should come up in about three months, but it might be on a lower floor and without a view. All the two beds for Commanders are on the south side of the building."
"We'll discuss it," Trip could tell Jon was reluctant. The thought of a new place, one neither of them had lived in appealed to Tucker.
"However, those for Lieutenant's face east and are lower. The views' obstructed but not much more than what you already have, if that helps, Sir," Vidal explained.
Sighing, Jon could read that hopeful expression. "Let us know when the first apartment comes up, Ensign."
"Yes, Sir," Vidal nodded.
"Thanks," Trip grinned. "Any other words of wisdom?"
Responding to the irrepressible Lieutenants humour, Pablo knew Tucker would soon become a favourite with his winning personality. "The pool can get a little crowed with kids after school lets out and the gym before and after shift. Best if you avoid those times. Apart from that, you'll probably never see anyone. Unless you join in the social society. They meet once a week, usually Friday afternoon on the leisure deck."
"Friday," Trip's eyes shone. "Thanks, Pablo. Come on Jon, I'm ready to explore the neighbourhood."
"Might I suggest lunch at Frescos if you don't have any other plans," Vidal smile. "It opened up while you were on Intrepid, Commander. It's located on Pier 39 and is proving popular with our residences."
"Remind me to thank Pablo if we manage to get home after all this food," Trip sighed, his palate satisfied by the pappardelle with veal ragù. He'd shown a little of the culture his parents expected of a Tucker, pairing it with a medium-bodied Chianti while sitting with a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree view of the bay. "I think this place is going to become a favourite."
"The afternoon's young," Jon reminded, watching his companion with a delighted smile.
"Well," Trip lent in, his hand open and eyes suggesting Archer fill it with his own, "after we finished this bottle, I expect a much slower amble back to the apartment. And when we get there, I expect that shower you been threatening me with for the last week."
His face lighting up, Jon stated, "you got it."