Note: This fic is intended to be light reading for Christmas time so the characters may seem a little bended for the sake of the story, nevertheless I hope you will have fun. I want to thank all the awesome people who made this possible: Arcangel, Nick, Mirka
Beta: the awesome, most encouraging and loveable people Arcangel, Nick, Mirka, you are the best!
Hallelujah
"Hi, Jon, I'm home," Charles Tucker strode easily into a spacious living room, wearing a uniform and a content smile.
Jonathan Archer looked up from a padd with a crossword to look at his younger lover. "You look good," he remarked softly and tossed a few pads from the sofa to make place for the other man. Tucker took the cue and nestled there, leaving only an inch or two between them.
"Yeah, I'm real glad I ain't runnin' from bedroom to bathroom no more." Just by the memory of his last two days Tucker actually turned greenish and shuddered.
"You may have caught the bug from James. He called today saying he's been sick and that he won't come to the baseball game."
Tucker leaned back and settled into the crook of Archer's outstretched arm. "James always caught all bugs running around the neighborhood and shared them with the whole family. I am sure we bred our own special Influenza tuckeritis when we were sick two months in a row, communicatin' it between us over and over. That thing could kill ya."
Tucker nestled more comfortably and sighed with pleasure. Only then did Archer notice that there was an envelope on the table that hadn't been there before. He gently nudged with his occupied arm, disturbing Tucker. "What's that?"
Tucker lazily rolled his head to look at the coffee table and murmured. "The mail's mine." He didn't show any sign of enthusiasm to explore its contents.
Archer took the initiative, gently pushed away his disgruntled lover and studied the envelope carefully. After several moments of turning it around he gave up. "What's in it?"
"No idea," came an evasive reply, which to Archer's taste was a little more evasive than a proper evasive, but polite reply should be. Nevertheless, Archer gave it no rest. "Are you sure?" He experimentally turned the envelope around once more, giving Tucker a meaningful, suspicious side-glance. "You don't seem very curious." He tossed it into his lover's lap.
"But you're burning holes in it with your eyes."
Archer grinned at the fed up man wolfishly, knowing well he'd just won. He couldn't quite contain his curiosity when Tucker actually opened and studied the mail, his expression exchanged rapidly, varying in depths and ranges from flat surprise to resignation. Finally after a pregnant pause, Tucker declared, "It's an invitation to a meeting of my Starfleet class, after 15 years." He handed over an old-fashioned photo on glossy paper.
"I love old stylish photos, but they cost a fortune." Archer remarked half muttering, engrossed in studies of the old picture. "Seems you do more sports now," he nudged his lover playfully, eliciting a small growl; a small appreciative teasing could never harm, but only a little. "You were a small class."
"It's a photo of our last year. A few dropped out and many went into aeronautics."
"Who's that? I know that face from somewhere!" Archer pointed at a red-haired woman standing in the middle.
"Who? Ah that, that's Sophia Rigotti."
"Nah, isn't familiar, but I do know her."
Tucker straightened on the couch lazily, letting his lover stew a little more. "Well, you may know her as Shirley Chevelley. She was in the remake of "Sting" we watched last week."
The reaction following this news was immediate and also expected; Archer sat up alert. "You know Shirley Chevelley?"
Relishing his moment of teasing, Tucker answered at length. "Yes, I do. Quite good, actually. If you want, I can make you acquainted."
"I don't think I should go with you, it's your class meeting…" Archer started with thinly hidden hope.
"Hmmmm," Tucker pretended to study the invitation properly, "…they write I can take a spouse with me. Assumin' you don't mind actin' as one…"
"We've been together for four years, I guess that counts as stable."
"You aren't just sayin' that to meet Sophia, are you?" Tucker mockingly accused.
"Hey, it wasn't me who came for a night because he got kicked out of his apartment and never left." Knowing his lovers temper, Archer quickly toppled him and planted a kiss on his half parted lips, "Nor do would I want him to," he amended and Tucker melted. "I suppose, it could be fun."
Two days later they got out of the taxi in front of "Pasadena" pub. After the decision to attend was made, Tucker had actually started to look forward to it and his good spirits had lasted the whole time.
"Accordin' to the invitation the whole pub is reserved for out meetin'. I guess there won't be many people in."
Archer looked at the relatively small pub dubiously. "I wonder what your class is like. Our meeting was somewhat boring…"
Tucker snickered loudly. "Borin'? With engineers? You have no idea? Didn't you hear rumors about us?"
"Ah, you mean those fre…people with designing programs." He smiled and caught the other man around the shoulders, but Tucker shook his arm away. "I will show you borin'!"
Archer nudged back. "No sweat, I'd never describe you as boring." Before they could continue the teasing banter a hand on Tucker's shoulder interrupted it by spinning the astounded engineer around his axis and enveloping him in a bear hug. "Trips!"
"Stu!" Tucker roared and enthusiastically returned the tight hug, both men taking longer than Archer took for appropriate. After a while they finally disentangled.
"Stu, this is Jonathan Archer. Jon, this is Stu Dawson."
Archer considered the surprisingly big man with astonished surprise: the guy was tall with dark smooth hair and sparkling eyes. "The Mr. Dawson you chat with every other weekend is Stu?" Certainly he had never seen a man with more…muscles.
"See, told ya, we're far from boring," Tucker laughed as Dawson gave him yet another embrace, leaving Archer stare speechlessly, but Tucker ignored his bewildered stares still enthralled by the happy reunion.
"Trips, I have to warn you that…"
"Trips!" A high-pitched squeak tore into their ears making them squint, and an image of mating elephants sprang up in Archer's mind. A tornado clad in bright pink swept through the room and before anyone knew what was going on, a slender, good looking woman leaned her rather developed chest and good physique against Trip while simultaneously ravishing the surprised engineer, snogging him senseless.
Dawson laughed heartily. "Too late. I wanted to warn you Sophia is here."
When the mentioned lady finally released her prey, Dawson took his gaping friend by shoulders. "You sure you weren't a swimmer? You almost made Trips brain dead."
Tucker quickly came to himself and reddened up to his hair when the, in Archer's point of view, used-to-be-good-actress announced louder than necessary. "I missed you Trippy! A lot!", and suggestively batted her eyelashes.
"I m-missed you too, Sophia. Sophie, this is my…friend Jonathan Archer." When it came to subtlety, Tucker wasn't exactly excelling, but this time, just this time Archer was willing to overlook it.
"Ah, Jonathan Archer…"
He swelled with pride.
"Where have I heard that name before?"
His pride puffed.
"Of course, I was only joking, who doesn't know the captain of Enterprise."
She smiled at Tucker sweetly and grabbed him by hand. "I am sure your captain won't mind if we go and meet the others," she chirped, dragging the bewildered Tucker mercilessly with her.
Dawson observed Archer's stupefied expression from the side. "Don't take it bad, man. She's a tornado, our Sophia. She and Trips always got on like a house on fire."
"Imagine that," Archer gritted his teeth.
"Brad!" Sophia's squeaky voice coming from the other end of the pub rang in his ears making him see stars. "I think I need a drink," he murmured to himself, but Dawson reacted to his silent plea instantly. "Sure, come this way, there is some champagne." Only moments later Archer almost had deliciously cold and bubbling champagne in his hands. Almost. Suddenly Dawson, who was handing it over shrugged, spilling half of it all over Archer's sleeve.
"I can give you a drink, right?" He asked with wide eyes.
"What?" Archer croaked confused. Why was this whole reunion a gig from a bad, very bad movie?
"You are not in AA or turning into a weirdo after alcohol or anything, right?" At Archer's incredulous and defeated look he added, "Your face seemed familiar from the meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous. But you're right they wouldn't put a ship into drunk's hands." Dawson thrust the drink back into Archer's waiting hands, spilling the rest of it. "Well, but you are Trips' friend, so I had to ask. He has this luck of meeting the right people…"
Archer almost chuckled. "That he has. Uh, Dawson, maybe you shouldn't drink that…" he indicated at the other, deliciously full glass of champagne, concerned.
"Why? Oh that? I'm not an alcoholic, my boss is. He smashed himself almost to death when we exchanged computers in the testing center and he thought he lost his whole work. Seriously, a scientist should always have a copy of their work on a datapadd, just not the one with comics 'cos there is always someone who wants to borrow them."
"Right."
How could he have ever thought engineers were boring? They were intelligent, ingenious, many of them geniuses, but absolutely nuts, all of them. Maybe Starfleet engineers were a special breed. On the other hand, he didn't see many strange people around the Gamma project or in the labs with his father. No. Nuts were only engineers coupled around Trip. Tucker really had a crack for meeting the right people…
Archer turned around and almost tumbled into another person standing there.
At the first sight he wasn't able to distinguish the gender. The person was standing only a step away, gazing at him intently. It has greasy, but perfectly side-combed hair, a clean shirt and an old-fashioned dark blue suit. Its figure was lithe with a slightly too big head. Thick-framed old-fashioned spectacles multiplied the alien look. In the times of adolescence and meanness he would have called the ashtrays. From behind the dark-brown frames watched him equally dark and very intense eyes.
"Uh…hello."
It tilted its head a little to the side, gazing owlishly, unresponsively studying him.
"Eh, I am Jonathan Archer." Where was everyone? Someone had to save him from this genderless stalking imitation of life.
He looked wildly around, but saw no one at least remotely familiar. Everyone was having a good time; only he was stuck with that plastic doll.
"Don't worry, Les is harmless."
Thankful for the friendly, though unfamiliar voice, Archer looked around and almost wasn't able to stifle a yelp when he stood face to face with a woman with dotted purple-black eyes. Who would have thought you haven't seen everything after you met Klingons, Andorians, Vulcans and many others?
He might have been able to stifle his yelp, but not his wince.
To his utter relief the woman seemed to take it with lot of humor and dignity. "Yeah, being a testing subject does that to you."
"I thought testing on humans is prohibited," he blurted out in sympathy, feeling like an idiot for staring.
" I did it myself!" She responded slightly offended.
One of those; all for science.
Her anger melted quickly as if it never existed and she grabbed him under the arm and smiled widely. "I know, medicine is such a fascinating science."
"I'm sorry, you're not an engineer?"
"Oh, yes. Engineering. I studied it as an auxiliary activity. We had four generations of engineers in the family, but medicine, that is a Science." Her eyes gleamed. "So who are you with?"
"Trip Tucker."
"With Charles. You're Jonathan Archer. I heard about Enterprise and its medical laboratory. Your doctor Phlox is a genius," her eyes gleamed again.
"If you like, I think, I can arrange a meeting." It was probably safer to have an organized meeting than have a fanatical stalker jump the poor doctor in some dark alley.
"That would be wonderful. So you're with Trips. I saw him with Sophia…again." If it weren't the contempt in her voice then it would have been the word that followed which irked him
"Again?"
"Ah, in our last year she bragged she will have sex only after marriage. It actually took her only one party and two beers then."
"She and Trip were an item?"
"They spent a night together. Everyone knew that. I guess she felt a little guilty and played angry, but got out of it quickly and they got together for the last two months before final examinations. Then Trips went to Florida Keys and she to Hollywood."
Archer disentangled his arm from her hold (he didn't even notice when that happened) as gently as possible, almost wrenching it out of the socket in the process. Hurrying out to the door he only managed a curt "Excuse me!" over his shoulder.
At the other side of the pub, Trip Tucker watched in horror as his lover raced out with an indescribable expression on his face.
"Jon!" He shouted, but the captain was already at door and didn't seem to have heard him.
Tucker tried to get through the crowd of people, but when he finally got out, Archer was nowhere in sight.
"Damnit!"
"You didn't have to tell him about them!" He caught the reproach over his shoulder. With a bad feeling of foreboding he turned on his heel to a bunch of curious observers (this certainly wasn't one of the times when he was willing to believe humans weren't emotional hyenas), but he didn't care about their number, at the moment his future might have been at stake.
"What did you tell him?" He addressed his former schoolmate standing in the middle of the bunch. He noticed the stares in the room nervously flickered between him and her.
"Nothing that isn't common knowledge."
A cold chill ran down his spine- anything of common knowledge wasn't good.
"Everybody knows you and Sophia were together."
In the utter moment of realization his world crumpled and in a moment came to life again and in the same desperate moment he realized he couldn't decide whether his former schoolmate was really so terribly devilish or inanely clueless.
He shook his head in denial and felt familiar stinging behind his eyelids. He was thankful for Dawson's arm that wrapped around his shoulder and maneuvered him into the back of the bar, "Come, Trips. I'll buy you a drink, you look like you need it."
After a moment a feeble thought emerged from his frozen brain, "No, I must go after him…," he protested, but his voice sounded weak even to himself. "He can jump onto so many shuttles away, or cars, or busses. Jon isn't one not to use public transport or even run if he needs to. He isn't fast, but he can go for very long. Jon…" He sounded like he was ranting, it happened when he was stressed.
"Look, I am gonna call your hotel and ask whether he took his things. If not, there's a chance he only needed some air. Give me your hotel card, I'll call."
Absolutely resigned and devoid of emotion, Tucker did as he was told to and then took a large gulp of beer someone had poured him.
After a very short moment Dawson returned, "Nope, he wasn't there, all your things are just as you left them. I'm sure he only needed a gulp of fresh air."
"Yeah. Maybe. Jon can be really impulsive at times."
"And jealous."
"Yeah and jealous." Tucker admitted slowly, the beer he drank in between slightly getting to him. He never was a good drinker. Suddenly he got up from the table.
"I must look for him!" he declared resolutely.
"Trips, this city has 20 million inhabitants, where the hell do you want to look for him?"
"I don't know. I don't care. I can't…."
"God! Ok! I am coming already." Dawson grumbled, but there wasn't his heart in it. Longtime friends did such kind of things after all, comforting their friends when down. Or sometimes deliver a vicious kick in the ass to get them out of it.
"Where's your car?"
"Trips, we've been drinkin'. I'm not gonna kill us 'cos of you."
"Oh. Then we walk." Tucker felt his logical reasoning had gone out of the doors somewhere along, either due to the beer or other factors he didn't want to think of. They stumbled through the crowd until they were outside.
"Well, Cochrane, right or left?"
"Left!"
So they set out. Dawson was sure their grave mood was obvious, since everyone they saw eyed them with pity. Glancing a bit to the side, Dawson indeed found Tucker's misery marring his features.
"Trips, he maybe didn't hear you in back there. It was pretty noisy."
"Yeah. I guess." The colorless answer wasn't satisfying by any means.
Dawson closed his eyes. "So. What's the story between you and him?"
"We've been together for 3 years…you know, I really thought it could be something."
"You didn't mention him that much in our chats. I had no idea it's so serious."
"It could have been, but I guess now it's over."
"You are a sod, I 'm sure he's just jealous."
"Is he?" Tucker asked dubiously.
"I don't know, you tell me. You'd never mentioned him as your lover."
Despite the tight situation Tucker blushed slightly. "Ah. We've lived together for 4 years. We met when I worked on Henry Archer's beta engine. There were a few teething problems and…"
"I read your reports about it and they way you handled the intermix was…huh, sorry. Go on."
"We met in the testing center when I defended the engine, from then on we were like two space revolutionaries, us against the world. The rest you know and somewhere along I've fallen…."
"…head over heels. How about him?"
"Clueless, hopelessly. It took him quite some time. After 12 years of friendship and a year of living together it occurred to him there is something. Even that was by accident when our new neighbor thought I was his husband." Tucker smiled crookedly at the memory.
"And the problem is, you're not."
Tucker sighed and yet another time changed their direction randomly again. "The problem is, I don't know what I am."
"Well, he has stayed with you for 3 years."
"I guess, I am an idiot. Three years and I still don't know."
"Maybe not an idiot, but it's a good thing you're not the security officer 'cos with your insecurity you'd suck."
Tucker swallowed a spicy comment about his friend's tactfulness and continued walking in silence.
After more or less an hour he had no idea where they were or where to go, but that wasn't important. He looked at Dawson questioningly. "Could…could you call the hotel again?"
With a kind impatient sigh Dawson grabbed the hotel card.
Again, the call lasted only shortly. "Nope, he wasn't there, things still in, but I got the number of the serving lady, just in case."
"You dog!"
"De nada. Now I guess that means I was right and your Jon went only for a gulp of fresh air." Without Tucker's realization they changed directions, returning back to the bar.
"Or he might as well left without his things."
"Do you want to play martyr or what? I can't cheer you up if you don't try at least."
They entered Pasadena. There was no sign of Jonathan Archer.
"My heart's in pieces, my future probably too and you say I'm a dork?"
"I didn't say that, but yes. I don't think he even heard you. I sure as hell didn't notice he was leaving until you screamed into my ear. And what if he did? He's just a guy, others will come."
"Don't want them; want him."
"God, you're sappy, now don't start crying. Thank you."
Sophia went out and joined them. "Ah, don't listen to him, Trips, it hurts him to see you like this," she soothed him. "How about we forget about today and go to the old school." She seemed to know what their friend needed.
"For old times' sake?"
"For old times' sake," she confirmed and caressed his head the way a mother would.
"Are you coming too, Stu?"
"Not yet. I'll drop by later with the others. At midnight."
"You ain't gonna help me to patch it up?"
"I'm not the patching type, Trips. Women are better for this."
Tucker nodded and got up. "I guess, a little remembering will do me good. Catch up with you later." And he left with Chevelley shoulder by shoulder.
Cooler gusts of air were messing their hair, but the night was quite warm. On contrast to his former roaming, Sophia appeared to know where to go. Nevertheless, he could not stop himself from looking around, so he listened to her only with one ear.
"The center is a permanent school now. They are even thinking of starting an academy there. They built a campus near it, but the school is still locked at night."
Tucker only nodded mutely. The prospect of an academy was logical. The idea was lifting his spirits, but despite that a shadow of tragedy still hung over him. It seemed like neither of his two friends would be very successful at lifting his spirits.
He dived into his inner thoughts and didn't even realize when they arrived to the school.
It was big and traditional, looming over them like a big shadow.
"It seems even bigger than it used to," she whispered.
"That's bull."
"Ah, Tucker, you can spoil every sacred moment." She cursed him half angrily and locked open the big door. They entered into eerily silent great hall.
"You're right," he sighed, "it seems bigger. Where was our base class? On the second floor next to the exhibition of trophies?"
They set out to the main stair flight. Their steps were dully echoing on stone floors.
It hadn't changed much. Despite his misery and initial sulkiness Tucker felt the atmosphere of the building seep into him. He had never walked here during the night, not even in his student years. Walls that used to evoke respect and sometimes even dread were suddenly soaked with memories, both good and bad.
He didn't want to think about the bad ones. It could take years ere he would have a chance to walk there again and this night, this night should belong only to the memories hanging in the dark air under the ceiling. They stopped at the top of the stairs.
"I'll be right back," Sophia whispered to his ear, but he barely heard her.
He made a few steps forward and they echoed hollowly, seemingly messaging the whole building he was there.
During a normal day only one pair of feet was too insignificant since the stone was worn by so many of them daily. Since the time Enterprise was launched every term the number of applicants doubled. There was much hope pulsing between the walls. But in the night, steps died down for a moment and their sound soaked into the walls just like everything that happened, good and bad. It was what made the building what it was, almost a breathing organism.
Suddenly a pair of hands wrapped around his arms and held him in place.
"Don't turn." A familiar voice whispered into the darkness, echoing ever so slightly.
"Jon…" Tucker sighed in pleasure.
"Hush. Just let me lead you and tell you something." Archer gently prodded him forward, guiding him securely. A short moment they walked in silence,
"Do you remember the really first time we met?"
Tucker took his time by answering a little confused why Jon brought up that particular memory. "Yes, when I defended Henry's engine."
Archer chuckled softly. "No. No. There was one more time. No, don't turn.
I was doing my final exam, right here in this building. Before it started I went to my mother's office and you were there. Maybe for a consultation. It was probably your freshman's year, you were so green."
A soft chuckle full of memory tickled Tucker's ears. They turned around a corner into a new corridor. There at the end of it was an open door into a small room that probably used to be a professor's cabinet. The whole space was lit with candles.
They entered the passage and then the room really slowly. Then Archer gently turned the other man around. "Here it was. Here I met you for the very first time."
"Miss Jones was your mother?" Tucker finally made the connection.
"Yes. That was her maiden name, Jones-Archer. Trip, there is something I want you to hear.
"There was a time when I didn't live. I was so scornful for all the injustice that was done. I felt hurt. Without realizing it, I lived only for my payback. When you defended the engine, I thought I had gained a good ally, but you have been much more. You opened a door for me. I didn't realize what a lonely life I had enclosed in these corridors before I got to know you.
"Today, I realized a very important thing: you came into my life and stood by me. When I got to know that you and Sophia…"
"We didn't…" Tucker interrupted him.
"I know. But for a moment I thought you did and I was jealous. I also realized how easily you could disappear out of my life again and I don't want you to."
"I called after you, why did you leave? I thought…we are over." Tucker couldn't hold back his reproach, nor the fear he had felt.
Archer looked a little confused and it took him a short moment to put the jumbled pieces together. "I…didn't hear you call after me. I hoped no one would notice me leave. I wanted to take care of something important."
"Important? I thought you went away."
Archer's expressive brows knitted together when he realized what his lover lived through in the last hour. "I didn't mean to hurt you. And there is still something I need to tell you. It's important." Archer coughed slightly, nervous. "Many years ago you opened the doors and I hope you'd say yes when I ask you if you'd like to go through it with me."
There was a pregnant pause. "Just to make sure….are you asking me to marry you?"
To confirm his point, Archer took a small box with two plain golden rings in it. The candlelight was dancing around their clear rims lively. "I just bought them in the town. I told you it was important business," he smiled gently. "I am pretty sure that I want to share everything with you. Yes, I want you to marry me and share one future."
Tucker's eyes gleamed, all forgotten. "Yes, yes I want to."
"Sure he does! I wouldn't say no to such an offer either," a voice interrupted them and their just-about-to-happen kiss. "Now that was beautifully said, Jonny boy, did you rehearse a lot?" Archer rolled his eyes when he realized the bunch that in a matter of moments would choke them with congratulations were Tucker's schoolmates that appeared out of no where.
"As a matter of fact, I didn't."
"Don't lie, Jonny boy, we can't see right through you. Ah, that man of yours has many talents Trips. You chose well."
Tucker smiled giddily. "Yes, I think I did."
Suddenly Archer burst at Sophia. "Now wait a minute, I called you to help me to propose Trip, but I wanted to have a quiet evening with my fiancé and ….you…them…"
The words seemed to fail him. "Is everyone here nuts?"
In the blink of an eye the whole stream of people pushing along the narrow side hall stopped and a few hands rose up.
"What are they doing?" Archer asked absolutely perplexed. Then he noticed his lover had his hand raised ever so slightly as well.
"We confess to our nuttiness."
Archer only rolled with his eyes. He wasn't sure anymore when these people were joking and what they meant, but his man came out from them, was one of them and you didn't marry only the man, but his whole family as well. If he could survive all branches of Tucker relatives, a few engineers wouldn't break the camel's back.
"See, I told ya we are a lively bunch."
He smothered his lover's bright smile with a kiss, not that anyone around protested.
THE END