"I'm told," the Commodore glanced between the two officers seated on the other side of his desk, "you are acquainted."

Maxwell Forrest didn't need the affirmative nods to feel the magnetism existing between Lt. Commander Jonathan Archer and Ensign Charles Tucker. To the best of his knowledge, they'd only met once, a fortnight previously. Jon had never been good at hiding his romantic desires, nor was he fooling anyone with the fact his eyes subtly flicked in the Ensigns direction intermittently. Tucker, on the other hand, seemed overly nervous but returned the fleeing glances on occasion. Keeping his sigh internalised, Forrest understood this could prove an advantage, or make their plans fail spectacularly.

I hope it's the former, because Starfleet, the Complex and the future of the space program have a lot riding on these two, more than either of them realise, the Commodore's mental sigh coloured his next words. "Good, because you're going to be working closely together for the next month and possibly living in close quarters," Max noted the expressions as he delivered his words. Jonathan Archer was able to keep the delight to himself, just. Ensign Tucker, on the other hand, squirmed in his seat and looked at his hands nestled in his lap, as though he couldn't quite workout if all his dreams had come true or this was his worst nightmare. Ignoring their reactions, Commodore Forrest handed each officer a PADD with the details of their assignment. Launching into what would be expected, Max finished with "any questions gentleman."

"Permission to speak freely, Sir," Trip asked, sending a sideways glance at the Lt. Commander. Jon's encouraging smile seemed to be all the incentive Ensign Tucker required to turn a baleful glare on the superior officer.

Forrest nodded, wondering what would come out of the young man's mouth. Witnessing how this pairing seemed to worked, it proved both insightful and unforeseen. He'd be a fool not to do his homework. The personal files of Archer and Tucker had been memorised, along with their personality profiles and whatever social media information his assistant could find. In order to use the pair to full advantage, he had to know them, inside out. This lecture series was more important than most people realised. It could mean the difference between starting on the warp two engine or giving in the Vulcan requests to slow their progress further, perhaps even closing the Complex completely.

"I'm not sure what you want me to achieve, cause it sure ain't educating people about advance warp theory," Trip stood, his accent getting broader with each word. He thought better on his feet, his body in perpetual motion and mind able to follow. "If you just wanted the dissemination of information, any line officer could stand up and deliver it. I only got my orders last night, but I've been thinking there is more to this than a simple lecture series. Captain Layton has twenty years' experience, ten on warp capable vessels. He has age and rank in his favour, unlike me. After he chewed my arse over protocol, then hinted that I might replace him, I did some research. About Starfleet procedures, the history of space travel, the politics behind Vulcan involvement, hell, I even studied regulations as far back at the UESPA and the formation of the United Earth political system. What aren't you telling us, Commodore?"

"Sir," Archer's gaze flicked between Tucker and Forrest when the silence became deafening. The men regarded each other resignedly, making Jon feel as if he'd missed something vital. His mind racing, recalling the last meeting in this office with Captain Layton, the pieces started to fall into place. They'd been completely manipulated, Ensign Tucker and himself. This mission, and there was now no doubt it was a mission, aimed to keep the space program alive. They were Starfleet's last hope.

Sighing, Max directed his stare at Archer and knew the younger officer understood humanities predicament. "Lt. Commander, please fill Ensign Tucker in on the situation with regard to Captain Layton's health issues. I'm sure that will bring light to the subject. Until then, you have your orders. Mr. Tucker, I suggest you get started on your first speech. It will occur at twelve hundred on Wednesday at the Complex. I understand Professor Sying and her team will be in attendance, so the information from your current research maybe included. They are eagerly looking forward to your presentation. There will also be a delegation from the Vulcan High Command."

Shit, Trip rolled his eyes before heavily slumping into his abandoned seat. "I've had to deal with that delegation before," Tucker stated despondently. Shaking his head, he finally looked up into the concerned eyes of Jonathan Archer. Addressing the man with a mournful tone, Trip complained, "they've been watching the progress of my PhD for months, trying to find fault with every single assertion."

"I gather you're not a fan," Archer stated with a mollifying smirk.

Witnessed the younger man's confusion, Archer knew it had nothing to do with their orders. Trip was beginning to truly understand the subtle undercurrent, proving his intelligence and developing political perception. No, Jon realised, watching the complex play of emotions as he sent the kid a reassuring smile, those baby blues are the window to Tucker's soul, and right now they exposed his inner turmoil. He's nervous about working with me. I'm not sure why, but I guess I'll have the next month to work it out.

"You could say that," Tucker responded, muttering under his breath about pointy eared, interfering imbeciles. The comments caused both Commodore Forrest and Lt. Commander Archer to hold their breath and hide their snickers.

"It's well past time you got started, gentlemen," Forrest dismissed, finally getting his expression under control. "You have a little over forty-eight hours to get his show on the road, Ensign Tucker. I've booked a conference room in the Complex's library today and tomorrow. I suggest you use it."

"Aye, Sir," Trip answered, already deep in thought. Jumping out of his seat once again, Tucker looked down at his commanding officer and stated, "I'll meet you there in half an hour, Sir. I want to check in with Dr. Sying. We have another paper due for publication in a peer reviewed journal. If I can get it authorised, I might be able to add the data into a lecture. It's sure to bowl the Vulcan's over."

"Then you'd better get to it," Archer returned, watching the preoccupied individual saunter out of the office. "Was I ever that young?" Jon demanded of the Commodore as he prepared to leave.

"Yes," Max smirked, "and not so long ago." Forrest indicated Archer retain his seat. They'd known each other a long time and there was more he wanted to say, as a friend. "Jon, I need you to make this work, even though I can see you're attracted to this kid."

"Kid," Archer made a grumbling sound, "being the ultimate word. I'm well aware of the age gap and Starfleet's strict fraternisation policy to protect junior officers. I'm not about to let anything get in the way of your tactics."

"Finally putting that college degree to use," Forrest didn't bother to hide his smirk. "Or at least the minor in politics."

"Actually," Jon went along with the Commodore's joke, "it was negotiation and diplomacy. If I recall, it was you who encouraged the addition of those units. Something about aerospace logistics and design not being enough for the modern Starfleet Officer."

"I believe they'll come in handy," Max agreed. "You're to handle this kid, Jon. Make a personal connection, introduce him around, pave his way, network with the right people. I don't need to tell you how important he could be to the overall plans of Starfleet."

"I got that," Archer frowned, "a couple of weeks back. Sir, I always knew you were devious, I just hadn't expected it from Captain Layton. I can't help seeing him as a bumbling idiot, well, I did, before our last meeting."

Roaring with laughter, Max took several minutes to get himself under regulation. "An impression he cultivates, deliberately. Amazing how well it works, even on the Vulcan's. People say things in Ian's hearing, not expecting him to understand. Us old men," Forrest sobered significantly, getting his point across, "have been at this a long time, Commander. We've learnt the rules of game, studied the playing field and finally, I hope, are beginning to make our own moves."

"Now," Jon's expression changed to understanding, "you're attempting to teach the younger generation the subtleties of the game?"

"I want you to continue to play it, refine it," the Commodore ordered, "and win it. I expect informal bi-weekly reports on your progress, especially with respect to our young Ensign and how his ideas go over with the audience." As Archer stood, understanding he'd been given his real mission and dismissed, Max added in a softer, more personal tone, "Jon, keep in mind that Tucker will be a Lieutenant in less than six months. Fraternisation rules won't apply with only half a rank between you and the age difference isn't so great. I have every intention of keeping the Complex open and getting you promoted to full Commander on the NX test pilot team."

Letting out a self-effacing chuckle to hide his surprise and elation, Archer stated sorrowfully, "while we might get to work together occasionally in that case, he has a reputation with the ladies."

"I'm shocked," Forrest stated easily. "That's not the vibe I'm getting on this side of the desk."

With that, Lt. Commander Archer threw an old-fashioned salute and left. He respected Commodore Forrest. The man had given him a lot to think about, especially in regards to the Kid. Stopping by the commissary, Jon picked up coffee while still thinking about his mentor's words. It would be a long day, the two of them cooped up in a small room. Ordering lunch and more drinks to be delivered, he proceeded to the library with a multitude of misgivings.

I have to keep thinking of Ensign Tucker as the Kid if I'm to work closely with him for the next month. Trips intelligence isn't in question. It won't take long for him to figure out Forrest veiled insinuations on his own, if he hasn't already. As far as the material for the speech goes, I'm no help at all. I can sit there and advise on the delivery. As to the actual lectures, my job starts afterwards, introducing Ensign Tucker to the scientists and executives invited to the formal gatherings. This is going to be torture, especially if Tucker continues this edgy behaviour in my presence because it might just prove Max's is correct and the attraction goes both ways.

As suspected, Jon found himself out of his depth just stepping into the conference room. Trip's call to his supervisor had been short. Professor Sying stating they would speak in person after his first lecture. Tucker knew something was up from the tone in her voice. The team at MIT were stressed, which probably meant they were being forced to defend their research, again. The Vulcan High Command really didn't like how rapidly the team were moving toward a solution to the Warp 2 engines problems. So, he'd rushed to the library and started working the material to be included in his lecture without Lt. Commander Archer presence to distract him.

If I can be in my zone, Trip told himself as he read their assignment from the PADD, I might be able to ignore the fact he's in the room. Hell, just sitting next to the man this morning was bad enough. That voice drove me crazy, not to mention sneaking a look at his profile. Seeing Jonathan Archer was better than the image I have in my head. Just when I'd convinced myself I'd never see him again, that I'd get over this infatuation, there he is, larger than life and not half a metre away. How the hell am I supposed to work with him for a month without given away my feelings?

Tucker found his file on the improved plasma injectors and brought the schematics up onto the wall screens. Down loading the most recent research onto the PADD in his hand, Trip went over the material. He tried not to react when Archer entered and placed a coffee on the table. Taking a seat at the other end of the conference room, Jon sipped his cooling drink. Watching the Ensign pace, sit, stare at the diagrams on the wall screens, pace again, entered a few words into the computer and then repeated the cycle for several hours, all without sending a single glance his way, caused Jon to grin internally. The Kid was obviously trying to ignore his presence in the room, proving that maybe Commodore Forrest might have seen something Archer missed.

"I need to get out of here," Trip stated when the door opened and their sandwiches arrived. He'd lost his train of thought when the steward interrupted, which allowed other, more distracting thoughts to crowd into his conscious. Thoughts that had been circling, interrupting Tucker's preparation for his exams over the last two weeks.

At least be honest with yourself, Trip scolded mentally, you got the assignment you wanted, but it comes with Lt. Commander Archer attached. It's just like desperately wanting to ask Melissa Lyles to dance all those years ago, but lacking the courage to approach her. You're not standing in a corner this time Tucker. Couldn't, even if you wanted to. You're going to be working together, closely, for the next month so you have to get the truth out and deal with the repercussions. Shit, I wish Pieter were there to talk about this before I screw it up, cause I got a bad habit of opening my mouth and just blurting out what's on my mind.

Waving his hand at the door, Jon indicated the Ensign was free to leave. Witnessing the play of emotions in those expressive eyes, Archer remained silent and immobile. It seemed Tucker was arguing with himself, before finally deciding on a course of action.

The younger man looked crestfallen, "aren't you coming."

"I wasn't sure you wanted me too," Archer responded lightly, his eyes never leaving Trip's face. Right now he look and acted like a very scared trapped animal. "You weren't this nervous around me the last time we met. Maybe you need some time alone to gather your thoughts."

"I didn't realise I was attracted to men," Trip grumbled, making the sentence into a long string of syllables while one hand ran through his hair in agitation. Now that confession was out, Tucker managed to settle his nervousness, at least a little. Finally turning amazing blue, crystal clear orbs on Archer, he added in a slower, more deliberate voice, "and more specifically you, back then. I am not continuing this conversation here."

Trying not to laugh at the demoralised picture before him, Jonathan Archer clapped Tucker on the back. Allowing his hand to settle on a shoulder he returned, "fair enough. Let's take lunch outside. There's a park by the bay. We can talk there."

"The hell we can," Trip retorted, moving towards the door quickly, muttering something about not being ready for that conversation.

That broke the spell. Archer let him go, watching with a poignant expression. This is going to be harder than I thought. I need to give Trip time to come to terms with his feelings if this mission is going to succeed, and succeed it must, not matter what we might feel for each other.

"You coming, or what," Tucker called across the silent library.

Shaking his head, Archer's mind found several ways to answer that question, most of them not fit for a public setting. I don't think Trips ready for any of them either! Patience's Jon, and you might just get what you want, in the end. Nothing that's worth having comes easily, or so my father used to say.