Nothing but Time

Lorian and Jon

Chapter 25

Archer walked out in a pair of shorts and a tank top, wearing a large grin. He hadn't boxed in a few years … well not since his usual sparring partner, Trip, had died.

Shaking his head, Jon remembered when he and Trip had tried to show their two sons how to box. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

"Alright, now … remember the most important part of boxing is to ensure you got your headgear on and your gloves securely fastened," Trip said as he shoved his mouth guard into his mouth and slipped his hand into his glove.

"Eddy?" Trip asked.

"Wha?" Jon asked as Henry giggled.

Trip spit his guard out, "Ready?"

The two good-naturedly swung at each other a few times. After Archer's glove connected with Trip's headgear the two stopped. Trip spit out his mouth guard and grinned.

"Kinda goes something like that. Now, you boys wanna try?"

Archer spit out his mouth guard, took off his gloves, removed his gear and helped the boys into their equipment. As the result of a coin toss, and right before the lesson, Trip had "volunteered" to be the punching bag. With his usual casualness and affability, he'd said, "They're kids, they can't really hurt me."

Archer had agreed whole-heartedly, not necessarily because it was true – more because it seemed the thing to do: reassure his friend he would be out of harm's way.

Trip covered the fundamentals, hunching over to look the two kids in the eye. Looking from boy to boy, Archer saw confidence in Lorian, as if he were chomping at the bit … and hesitation with Henry, as if he wasn't quite sure how the whole thing was supposed to work. As both boys readied themselves, Archer squatted down to give a few pointers.

"Why don't you go first, Henry," Archer suggested.

At seven, the kid was gangly, but physically active – just as his father was and mother had been. The captain beamed watching his son take a few shots at Trip, and fatherly encouraged him to keep on the balls of his feet. After landing a punch to Trip's midsection, the engineer playfully blew out a gust of air.

"Whew," he said acting breathless. "You really socked me one."

Henry laughed and smiled broadly as the engineer gave the kid a wink.

Lorian, whose voice was at the cusp of changing, raised his eyebrow.

"May I be permitted to try?"

Trip righted himself to look at his child with pride.

"You bet," Trip said, glowing.

When the two began to swing their gloves at each other, Archer continued to give instruction.

"Keep up your left, Lorian," Archer said.

Father and son gave each other a blow, but continued to dance, bob and weave – continuing the match. Soon even Archer became silent, watching the two give each other a good workout. Lorian was more physically fit than most boys his age and despite raging hormones, was more coordinated. Gracefully the boy footed around his father, giving the engineer a real match – something neither Archer nor Trip had expected.

And then finally, Trip was about to give up when Lorian's glove connected with the engineer's chin in a roundhouse punch, sending his father to the floor.

Mouth-agape, Jon looked on in shock as Trip's head hit the mat.

"Father!" Lorian said, rushing to his side. Tossing off his gloves and holding the man to him, he profusely apologized.

In a daze, Trip gave a wild grin. "Damn, you have a good right."

"I'm sorry," Lorian said. But, the boy was met with a dazed grin.

"Sorry? Why the hell for?"

The Vulcan quipped his brow, peaking it against his forehead.

"I think you might be able to beat Mayweather, Hayes or him one day," Trip said, nodding toward Archer.

Archer gave a low chuckle as he helped get his friend back on his feet. After Lorian and Trip took off their gear, the boy was finagled into the crook of Trip's arm. Warily, the boy continued to carry a raised brow with him as his eyes reflected the wheels that whirled within his mind. Glancing at his father, he seemed to walk straighter with his shoulders back and a smile that nearly touched both ears.

"Can't wait to tell your mother," Trip mumbled.

"She doesn't like violence. I doubt she'll agree with the training you've provided," Lorian said in his most logical voice – the one that always reminded Archer of his mother.

Trip traced his shoe against the mat, contemplating the information – wanting to argue with his son and wanting to agree. It seemed a shame to spoil the moment, so Archer decided to speak up to recapture it.

"Well, I have a feeling the very illogical love she has for her son and husband will override it."

Trip gave a satisfied sigh as Lorian watched – skeptical, but quiet. As the captain looked at the 13-year old, he could tell the boy didn't exactly buy the information. He'd heard the kid complain about his mother before, mostly about her lack of emotion despite living around humans. As well as Trip and Lorian got along, T'Pol and Lorian never seemed to click. It sometimes pained Archer to view or hear mother and son interact, mostly because he knew they both loved each other … but had difficulty showing it or understanding how the other felt.

Giving Trip a side-ways glance, his engineer was already working out exactly what to say.

"Jon's right. Your mom loves you … and me. She may not always say so, you just gotta be looking." With a softened voice and gleaming azure eyes, the man said, "It's important to me you get along with her."

Lorian nodded and the four silently headed to the Mess Hall for lunch. When the conversation picked up, Archer purposefully fell a little behind. Draping his an arm around Henry's shoulder, he gave his boy a smirk.

"You did good today," he said to his son. "I'm proud of you."

Henry beamed back, an easy smile forming on his lips. "I think Uncle Trip let me hit him."

Biting back a grin, his eyes focused ahead. White lies, harmless ones that boosted the ego, were acceptable to Jon – like the ones he told to Elyssa on how pretty she looked despite not being able to comb completely through the girl's blonde hair thanks to tangles that came from her fine locks and stained dress. Actually that was never quite a fib, she looked beautiful to him. With a sigh, he watched his son toddle along next to him, struggling to keep his boyish stride in step with Archer's manly one. It was times that this, he wished the boy was just as little younger, so he could pick him up, rest him on his hip and hug him as they walked.

"Let him hit you? No," he explained, "you're an Archer."

In front, Tucker proudly announced to anyone who walked by his son nearly knocked him out. Slowing his gait and shoving his boy into his side, Archer walked down the hall.

'Fathers and sons,' he thought.

The comfort Trip had with people, the ability to build their esteem and the easy relationship he enjoyed with Lorian – these traits were admirable to Jon. Somehow the engineer always managed to be a good father, and brought out those qualities in others – even Jon himself – especially when the four men would do something together.

The two fathers had shown their boys just about every sport they could imagine, possibly in prideful rivalry hoping their child would be the alpha male.

The day they went boxing was the day it dawned on Archer: the boy who could out run, out fight, out maneuver and out think anyone else would be Lorian Tucker. Although slightly troubled, as most teenage boys are, Lorian held himself with confidence, assuredness and humility. He had Vulcan strength, the species' grace and balance, and their legendary intelligence and wisdom. The only thing he lacked was patience – undoubtedly a gift from his more human side. Another gift from Earth – emotions -- but Archer always saw that as positive.

In a strange way, Trip reminded Jonathan of his own father, Henry. The two had a lot in common: both engineers and both giving their children more than a heart full of love. He gathered both men loved traveling the stars (or his father would've had he been given the chance), taking apart just about anything to see how it worked and the patience and care it took to put that thing back together. Both men were good with people, a quality he noted most engineers didn't have.

Maybe that was the thing that Archer found most perplexing about Lorian – sometimes when he looked at the boy … he saw traces of himself.

For a moment, Archer wondered if that's why he pushed T'Pol into the idea of getting the boy ready to take command of Enterprise.

Snorting away the thought, he stretched out. Being nearly 60, he decided to make sure he warmed up every part of his body – his back had already started bothering him (arthritis), no sense in making it worse. As he crouched onto the floor and touched his toes, Lorian strolled out in a similar outfit. Working out his quads, Jon smiled at the boy. It was odd, the older the boy got, the less he looked like his father and the more he seemed like a mix of both parents. His hair was less blond and more sandy in color. His eyes were less blue and looked somewhat hazel. His nose had a small tip on the end like T'Pol's, but still turned up like Trip's. And the kid, for his age, was small in stature like T'Pol.

After stretching, Archer got up and put on his gloves. Both the Vulcan and the captain decided that they didn't need headgear or mouth guards – after all this was just a friendly match and both were experienced enough to be careful.

"Glad you wanted to do this. I haven't boxed in a long time." He paused as Lorian put everything on. "You remember the last time we did this?"

"Yes," Lorian said with the smallest of frowns.

"You almost knocked your dad unconscious. You did have a killer right." Pausing for a second, he asked, "Do you still box?"

"Yes. I've been doing so with Uncle Malcolm, Mr. Hayes and Mr. Mayweather."

Something troubled Archer about that information. It meant the kid had a lot more recent practice than he did. The last match Archer had was with Hayes, but that was about a year ago.

"Mr. Mayweather said he was one of the only crewmen who could beat you."

Archer laughed, "True enough."

"Hayes the other one?"

"That's right."

"I intend to be the third man, sir."

A worried grin worked his way across his lips. The kid had spunk and gall, which made an interesting combination in a Vulcan. As the two circled around each other, Lorian threw the first punch, a right hook, which Archer dodged effortlessly. The boy was shorter and didn't have the same reach. The boy threw the second punch, an uppercut, which skimmed the air and left him vulnerable; the captain dealt him a jab to his face.

"You want to keep up your left," Archer said.

"I'll keep that in mind," Lorian said as he tossed another punch that landed in the captain's midsection, causing a gush of air to escape his lungs.

"Nice hit," Archer wheezed.

Suddenly, the match became less friendly and more serious. Each man danced on the balls of his feet, waiting to take advantage of the other's weakness … hoping to strike a hit. Soon both realized they had a more equal match than either would've liked. Ten minutes into it, and a few blows later, Lorian decided to address the reason he chose to box.

"I don't want you sleeping with my mother." The kid threw a series of combinations as Archer successfully blocked some and dodged the others.

Archer knocked the boy back with a roundhouse punch to the jaw, nearly knocking him to the ground. As Lorian, stumbled, Archer let down his guard.

"You okay?"

He nodded and gave the man a few jabs to the stomach. "I don't like the fact that two years after your friend, my father died, you seduced her."

"Seduced her?" he asked, breathlessly, defending himself from a series of blows.

Lorian hurled his glove at Archer, sensing he was more vulnerable in the mid-section, and shoved it into his stomach. "Yes."

Jonathan stopped shuffling his feet around. While catching his breath, he said, "Lorian, why don't we stop and talk about this."

Lorian gave Archer a roundhouse across the jaw that sent him tumbling to the ground. Angry, the man got onto his feet and decided he was going to win this fight. The two circled each other, like warriors, hard glints in their eyes. Lorian's gloves seemed intent on landing contact – he wanted to punish his captain for months of trespasses … possibly years of them. Jonathan glared at the boy as if to put the youngster in his place.

Punches, jabs and hooks were thrown, sometimes landing in the spot they were meant to be delivered. Sweat flew off both men, dripping into cuts and bruises on each. Archer's abdomen and left cheek was bruised and his lip was cut and swollen. Lorian's right cheek was a dark green as was the area around his eye and around his chin.

For a second, and after his anger wore off, Archer looked at the boy and regretted his emotions. The boy was upset – it made more sense to talk rather than continue trying to pound their fists into each other.

Archer, continuing to dodge and weave, said, "Look, Lorian … I didn't seduce your mom. And you know how much I liked your father."

Momentarily, Archer saw the kid's eyes soften and decided to stop. "You know how much I like you."

With a little venom, Lorian said, "I suggest you keep moving. You're older and slower than I am."

Archer flung a jab followed by a hook that forced the boy to the floor. "Not that old."

Lorian glared and got to his feet. Jon mentally assailed himself for letting his pride get in the way; he didn't want to be reminded of his age. Hesitating only briefly, Archer decided to try and reason with him again.

Jon said, "When my dad died, it was tough to watch my mother date again. I'm sure you feel angry, jealous, hurt and confused."

Lorian sent a few jabs to the man's ribcage and said. "I'm half-Vulcan. Don't presume to know my emotions or whether I'm feeling anything."

Archer threw a few punches back, one of which managed to strike the boy in the nose, but didn't draw blood.

"You wouldn't be doing this if you weren't mad at me. And I can understand that," he said, wishing he hadn't hit the kid so hard.

"You're my godfather, Captain," he railed. "How could you tear my family, what's left of it, apart?!" His hands flew into Archer's stomach as the older man realized having Vulcan strength was a pretty nice asset to have while gasping for air.

Archer tossed a few punches back to the kid's face, realizing he wasn't keeping up his left. "I'm not trying to tear you apart. I didn't think loving your mother would hurt you so badly. It shouldn't come between the two of you."

"You realize she doesn't love you. She rarely says it to anyone," said the boy, delivering more blows to his stomach.

"I think she does love me," Archer explained.

"She would never say so," Lorian said, tossing another punch as Archer barely dodged it.

"She did," Archer said, seriously. Pain crept into the boy's eyes and his fists began unleashing their power in my force. Taking a few jabs to the rib cage, he delivered a roundhouse to his Lorian's jaw, sending him to the ground. The Vulcan's head swam as he tried to focus his eyes. Attempting to stand, Archer rushed over to him.

"You okay?" he asked. As the boy got up, he launched a glove into Archer's face with all his might.

The decision to throw a punch at this time was illogical, but satisfying. The captain hit the ground with a thud, spilling blood onto the mat; his nose had snapped under the weight of the Vulcan's glove. Hurt and confusion swept over his features, as well as another wave of anger. But, instead of giving into it, he tried to squash it.

"I don't want to fight you, not like this," Archer said.

"Why not?! You don't get it. I idolized you, followed your instructions, and trusted you! How could you do this to me?!"

"Lorian, your mother and I … our intention was never to hurt you."

Watching the boy about to cave in, Archer took a chance – he stood up and wrapped his arms around him as the kid deflated.

"I'm sorry," Jon whispered.

"Don't you see … sorry's not good enough. Knowing you loved her all those years. You were plotting and scheming to …."

"No," he said softly. "I never plotted and schemed. I accepted she loved your dad. It was hard. But, I think part of what helped me start accepting it was holding you in my arms when you were born."

Hoping to add a little humor, Archer said, "You looked just like Trip … except cute."

The captain gave a slight smile, remembering the tiny creature with expressive blue eyes, copper skin and pointed ears.

"You were absolutely amazing. You just looked up at me with such curiosity and wonder, Lorian."

Archer backed off a little and added, "I never would've broken up your family, and your mother would've let me."

"Then why now?" asked Lorian.

Jon sighed, "Because how I feel about her is out in the open. Because I'm lucky enough to have your mom's feelings returned. Because I think being together will make us happy."

"Us? I don't feel happy."

"Maybe if you give me a chance, you will. I don't think our relationship has to change, Lorian. I've always cared about you."

Still somewhat unconvinced, the Vulcan remained quiet.

"Let's just give it time," Archer suggested.

Without agreeing, the boy said, "I apologize for hurting you."

Archer gave a lopsided grin. "I think you broke a rib."

"I did that well?" asked the kid with a smirk.

"Yeah. Want to help me Sickbay?"

"Certainly." After a brief pause, he asked, "Does this mean I can tell Mayweather I bested you?"

"I guess so," Archer replied.

Jon put his arm around Lorian and leaned on him all the way to the medical facility.

A vacation. Trip and T'Pol (well, more him than her) were looking for some rest and relaxation, and wanted Lorian's godfather to care for him. Archer was unsure about all the duties a father had, other than watching Trip when he joined the Tucker family over at their house.

He wasn't sure he was up for the task, but thought the couple needed time to themselves – as every couple does. After all, having a child was a lot of work … at least that's what he heard from the mothers and fathers on board.

As Trip and T'Pol waved goodbye to their child, he didn't cry. Nor did he mind being in new quarters with his godfather. Instead, he quietly read and kept himself amused. While Lorian flipped through the pages of the astronomy book that he'd collected from Archer's shelf, the captain watched him. Sensing the man staring at him, he looked up and gave a slightly raised eyebrow and a pout.

"Sorry, I was … do you want me to read that to you?" he asked.

"I can read. My mother taught me."

Archer already knew that, but felt like he needed to ask anyway.

"Even the big words?" Archer asked. "Do you know what the cover says?"

"I have trouble with some of the big words. But, Dad reads those to me."

"Well, I'm not Trip … uhm, your dad … but, I'd love to read to you."

Guardedly the boy agreed and Jon crossed over and sat on the floor. Lifting the book so he could see, he began to read all the information he'd learned as a child – the stars, the planets, suns, pulsars, quasars and more. As the pages flew by, Lorian settled against Jon's chest, leaning into him, and continued to focus on every word and every picture.

As Jon finally closed the book, he noted the time. It was already past 1900 hours, and one hour after Lorian's usual bedtime.

"Are you sleepy?" Archer asked.

"No," he said.

But, as he said the words, his little blue eyes closed and then opened in a flash, fighting to stay focused. Lifting him up, Archer helped the boy put on his pajamas, brush his teeth, wash his face and comb his hair. When they'd gotten to combing Lorian's tangled hair, the boy nearly fell asleep standing up. With a soft chuckle, the captain laid him onto the bed, tucked him in and watched him sleep and dream.

The next two days were exactly like that, except possibly better. Lorian sat in the Ready Room, petted Porthos, looked at all the captain's books, asked tons of questions, took naps and sat in the captain's chair, cracking a smile.

"I want to sit where you do one day," he said, gazing up at the captain.

"Maybe you will," he responded, doubting that was true. Lorian would remain tiny forever.

The two were inseparable, until his parents came back. Again, Lorian didn't cry or throw a fit, instead, he grabbed Trip's hand and waved goodbye to Jon.

The memory of those few days was wonderful. And, despite being punched or noticing the boy growing up, in a way he would always be the little guy who wanted to sit in the captain's chair and fell asleep standing up while having his hair combed.

As they walked into Sickbay, Jon decided to mention the conversation he had with T'Pol – the one where he wanted to teach Lorian everything he needed to know to succeed his mother as captain.

"You know, I'm not as young as I used to be. Maybe I can show you the more detailed information about being captain. Would you like that?"

Skeptical. The Vulcan, though sometimes impulsive like Trip, would try and restrain that reaction whenever possible – always with varying degrees of success. Scanning his eyes over the captain, he wondered why he had been chosen over Henry or any other child aboard. Perhaps, the boy reasoned, the captain was trying to garner favor.

"I'll think about it and get back to you," said the Vulcan. Lorian wasn't interested in letting Jon off the hook so quickly, though sorry he'd punched the man so brutally.

Archer smiled. "I haven't really thought about anyone else, so you have plenty of time."

The smile … and the man … seemed genuine – maybe that was something that was charming about him. Staring into the green eyes and looking over his gray hair and fine wrinkles, he uncovered the truth. Archer, in a way, loved him. It wasn't the sighing romantic love he had for his mother, which he now supposed was just as real, but it was the type that possibly Lorian felt for him. It was based on mutual respect and years of proximity, but had nuances – in essence they'd always cared for the same things: family, the Tuckers, the crew, the ship and the stars.

"I appreciate that you thought of me," Lorian said.

Archer ruffled his hair and felt the twinge of his rib as Phlox and his daughter, Lizel, walked over and began treating him.

"Ah, Captain Archer!" greeted the young Denobulan woman, strolling over to treat him. Her smile overtook her entire face and her piercing blue eyes seemed to glow.

Acknowledging the woman and following her every order, he eventually glanced over to Lorian. "We never talked about what I'd intended to."

The Vulcan nodded – knowing what was coming. It hurt and surprised him that his mother had told the captain she loved him – hurt because it had been something she rarely said to him and surprised because he had assumed his mother was colder than she apparently was.

Logically, it made sense. Her actions indicated she was in love – the sway of her hips, the additional minutes in front of the mirror primping every morning and the way she watched Archer now through half-closed lids.

They were both in love now. And, Archer seemed like the sort of man who'd want to remarry and formally recognize his feelings for her.

"You want to marry her?" Lorian asked.

Lizel widened her eyes and decided it was an apropos time to collect a scanner and a hypospray. She had her father's discretion and her mother's sensibility to even keep from eavesdropping, despite her curiosity.

Dropping his chin only by centimeters, Archer corrected, "I was hoping you'd move in."

Lorian detected a missing word that the man had every intention of saying: first. I was hoping you'd move in first.

"That means you, too, Lorian."

The Vulcan stared at his feet.

"It's too fast for you?" Archer asked gently.

Silence filled the room, interrupting the chirping creatures in their cages, the soft hum of the engines that was ever-present and even the human's breath.

"Think about it," Archer said, a little sadly.

Lorian gave a slight nod.

"Maybe in the meantime, you can call me Jon. Your father used to."

His eyebrow peaked uncontrollably. "You've always been Captain Archer."

As Lizel made her way back with a hypospray and a rib setter, Archer bobbed his head in agreement with a sigh. It was the type of head nod someone who didn't really agree gave to placate others.

"You can think about that, too."

Lorian was about to object, when Archer said, "Just give it time. Looks like we have plenty of it."

"Captain, you'll need to remain still for me to set this rib properly," Lizel said.

Lorian took that as his cue to exit, but seemed hesitant to leave the captain's side.

"Don't worry about me," he said, nodding toward the door. "I told your mom we'd be back about an hour ago."

"I'm sorry again," Lorian said.

"For beating up an old man?"

Lorian bit back a grin at the tease. "No."

Archer winked. "I know."

And it seemed he did. Stepping onto his heel and turning around he filed out of Sickbay. Walking down the corridors he thought to himself that until he was comfortable with the arrangement, his mother and … Jon … wouldn't go forward with their plans to cohabitate. On the one hand, it made him feel powerful – he was glad to be able to call the shots for a change, but on the other hand, it meant denying their happiness.

Before he made a decision, he'd need to talk with his mother.