A/N: This idea is something that jumped up and bit me in the ass, and wouldn't let go until I got it down. I'm not giving up on Be Here Now, I'll be working on all my stuf simealtaneously, if I can handle it. This story was inspired by one a read where Malcolm and Trip are lovers, and they go home to Malcolm's parents for Christmas. It takes place after the Xindi mission is over. Instead of going to Vulcan with T'Pol, Trip takes Mal with him to Florida. It always occurred to me when watching the show that Trip would be great fun to hang around with, but due to his responsibilities on the ship, we never really get to see that side of him. So I wanted to write something where the only duties he had were to be an older brother, and an eldest son. I didn't want to have to come up with any great crisis for a focal point. This story is strictly about relationships, Malcolm to Trip, Trip to his family. I'm going to be using first person pov all the way through, but I'll be alternating between Trip and Malcolm. As always, please read and review. Honesty helps my writing!


I'm still not entirely sure how I got to be here. The past two days leading up to now were pretty much a blur, likely my mind sub-consciously repressing the time for my overall mental health. Bits and pieces come back to me every now and again, like my second-in-command wishing me luck while tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. I remember taking one last tour around Engineering, certain in a way I had never felt before that I would never step foot on that particular deck plating again. I remember Captain Archer's stern face staring me down, telling me in no uncertain terms that if I was still on this ship when he made plans to leave, that I would soon find myself tumbling down to the planet's surface without the benefit of an environmentalized shuttlecraft. I remember saying goodbye to Hoshi, Travis and Phlox, who were heading down in the first shuttle. The whole affair has such a finality about it that even as I stand here waiting, I can feel my chest tightening with anxiety.

"Are you sure your mother won't mind me being there?"

I turn slowly to the pair of steel grey eyes that I'm certain have been studying me for some time. I manage a slight smile, more for Malcolm's benefit that an actual expression of my feelings. "No, Mal, she won't mind. The more the merrier in her house."

I don't tell him that he will likely be taking Her place at the dinner table. That the only reason I asked him on this visit was to act as a buffer between me and the rest of my family. I had been there when Captain Archer had ordered all his senior staff off ship for at the very least two weeks. And I had been there when Malcolm had resorted to pleading to stay onboard the ship. So maybe it wasn't entirely for selfish reasons that I asked him to come with me to my parents house. He was all too eager to accept; I'm pretty sure that to him, the thought of spending time with my family, despite the number of unknown variables, was preferable to spending time with his own. I wonder what he would think if he knew that I was dreading this reunion just as much as he would one with his parents. I hadn't seen them since before...the attack. My own parents, that is. Afterwards, there was just too much to take care of, overseeing the repairs to Enterprise and making sure my crew was taken care of. At least, that's what I told them when they asked why I couldn't visit. That wasn't the truth though. I knew that Captain Archer would've done all that he could to ensure I could spend some time with my fragmented family, despite the strain it would inevitabley put on his own time off. But I didn't want that. I didn't want to see my mother torn apart from the loss, or my remaining siblings looking to me for an explanation. Seeing my family grieve for my baby sister would've reminded me that I hadn't yet.

The tight hissing sound of a vacuum being created broke into my thoughts. I watched as the seal indicator turned green, then the door obligingly slid open. Being the gentlemanly officers Malcolm and I were, we waited until everyone else had boarded before stepping inside. I only recognized a few people in our group, a variety of faces I had seen only in the mess hall and wouldn't have been able to place anywhere else. The rest of our shift, including Doctor Phlox, had since departed. Everyone except Malcolm and I had long ago changed into civilian clothes; we had been working right up until the deadline and hadn't had the time. We stowed our bags in the overhead compartment, and took seats near the back of the shuttle. A nervous chattering filled the craft; muttered conversations between co-workers for the sole purpose of taking up time until landing. Once the shuttle hit Earth, and those doors opened, these relationships would be forgotten for a full two weeks, and picked up again on a similar shuttle, taking us back up to Enterprise. I glanced to Malcolm on my left. Well, the majority of these relationships.

"How many of your family members are going to be at your parents house?"he asked, tearing his attention away from his fingernails long enough to look me in the eyes. I studied his face for a minute before answering. He had assured me back on the ship that he wasn't in the least bit nervous about meeting my family. Actually, his exact words had been "They can't possibly be worse than mine!" I was going to hate proving him wrong in both cases; I had come to know him well enough while serving on Enterprise to notice the tight lines around his mouth, the tiny beads of sweat gathering across the bridge of his nose, as signs of anxiety. And he was right to be afraid. Next to me, he was going to be the star guest. All eyes would be on him all the time, and for a man like Malcolm, who was content to blend right into the wallpaper in most social situations, that kind of attention would be terrifying. I knew it was a real testament to our friendship that he was willing to go through all that to help me out. Or to get away from his parents. I hadn't decided yet what his motivation for accepting my invitation was.

Instead of telling him all this, I merely smiled. "Not that many; don't worry. My siblings, some aunts and uncles, probably a couple of nieces and nephews. No big deal."

He nodded stiffly, but I could see the colour begin to drain from his face. I would've cushioned the blow further, but it was far too late to turn back now. The trip to the surface was already half over.

"How many siblings do you have? I mean, how many did you, um, you know, before..."

His verbal train wreck was so uncharacteristic that I decided to save him from it before he swallowed his own tongue. "I have three, now, Malcolm."

He seemed to take that answer as a request for silence, and after a brief nod, went back to inspecting his fingernails. What he was hoping to find, I'm not sure. My family's personal hygiene standards aren't all that high, after living through my childhood. For the most part they were content if I had remembered to shower in the past three days. Nobody would be checking under Malcolm's fingernails for dirt or debris.

As we neared the surface docking port, conversation slowly dwindled into nothing. People leaned as close to their windows as they could get, hoping to catch a glimpse of their families before we disembarked. I stayed in my seat, and taking a que from me, Malcolm did the same. The pilot came over the speaker then, thanking us for being such pleasant passengers, and wishing us luck and good times on our leave. I wasn't sure I was going to get either, but I appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

Malcolm grabbed our bags, and we joined the stream of people leaving the shuttle, and merged into the river of people in the port. "Someone's gonna be waiting for us out front,"I said to Malcolm over my shoulder. I didn't hear his response, if there was one, but that didn't matter. I knew that I could suddenly sprout wings and take off into the air, and Mal would be right behind me. I couldn't lose him in the crowd if I tried.

We made it to the main entrance of the spaceport without incident, and I burst out into the bright, Florida sunshine with a genuine smile on my face. It felt like a lifetime since I had been under this sun, and in a way it was. The last time I had realized it, had appreciated it, and not just been numb with grief, was before boarding Enterprise and leaving the solar system. It felt like coming home more than anything else. I turned to grin at Malcolm, and was momentarily startled by just how pale he was. More so than could account for being in space for the past three years. He treated the sunshine as though it were nothing but a nuisance, grimacing at the humid warmth and shielding his eyes with his hand.

"Someone's meeting us here,"I told him again, in case he hadn't heard the first time. He nodded in a way that made me think he hadn't, and I turned to survey the long line of cars parked at the curb. I had no idea who was meeting us, so I didn't have the first clue of what kind of car to be on the lookout for. As it happens, I didn't have to worry. Malcolm and I were pretty hard to miss anyways; we stood out more than a little in the throngs of tourists thanks to our dark blue uniforms.

I could see glimpses of a familiar tousled blond head in the crowd, moving about in quick darting movements. Connor, my younger and only brother, had hair the same shade as my own, though he wore his in a decidedly non-Starfleet reg style. He looked so much like me, down to the shape of the jaw and ski-slope nose, that if not for the nine year age difference, we could've been passed off as twins.

I glanced at Malcolm to tell him to be on the look-out for a younger version of me, when a flash of demin and white cotton came flying at me from the crowd.

"Trip!"Connor shrieked, and I was momentarily brought back fifteen years. He had greeted me in similar ways when he was eight, but at twenty three I was kinda hoping he had kicked the habit. I dropped my bag on the sidewalk to favour him with a two armed hug. Malcolm retrieved my duffle, and stepped a few feet away, watching the embrace with a bemused smile on his lips. After a long minute, I pulled away to study my brother more closely. He had grown in the three years since I had seen him last. The acne that had plagued his teenage years had cleared up, and thanking God, I noticed he had stopped trying to grow a goutee. Up until now, I had been so busy with the ship, and then dreading this visit, that I didn't stop to realize how much I missed my siblings. The relief I felt at seeing my younger brother alive and well tightened my chest and made breathing difficult. Unaware, he flashed me an ear to ear grin.

"It's good to see you, Trip. Mom's so happy you could make it this time." He glanced over my shoulder, and spotted Malcolm looking rather conspicuous in a matching blue uniform. Connor caught my eye again. "Is this the guy?"

I flashed him a warning look (Connor had a tendency to stick it to anyone he deemed uptight, and just being my friend didn't grant exception or absolution), then grabbed Malcolm by the wrist and dragged him closer. "Mal, this is my brother Connor. Connor, this is Malcolm Reed. He serves with me on Enterprise."

Connor looked pointedly at the patch on Mal's left arm, and rolled his eyes. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Connor,"Malcolm stated, and offered his hand. I could see a war waging in my younger brothers eyes, but it was the barely perceptable shake of my head that decided it. He seemed to realize it would do him more harm than good to piss me off so early in the visit. So he treated Malcolm with his most charming smile, and accepted the hand.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Reed. My brother has told me so much about you."

I rolled my eyes and shoved them both towards the parking lot before he could lay it on any thicker. "So, Con. Who exactly is gonna be at this little reunion?"

Connor chuckled slightly. "A better question would be who isn't gonna be there. Uncle Frank and Aunt Sheila are already at the house. Aunt Joan, Shawn and Kevin are due in tomorrow, so is Uncle Lloyd. Day after Aunt Cindy, Uncle Gary and Bryan are flying in. This was last I heard. There could be later additions." He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. "Your homecoming is quite an affair, bro."

"I thought you said no big deal. I believe your exact words were 'Not that many; don't worry.'" Malcolm glared at me through narrowed lids. I had to admit that he did my accent better justice than I could hope to give his. Connor reacted immediately, bursting into laughter and slapping Malcolm on the shoulder. I shrugged. "Dunno what to tell you, Mal. Our family, this isn't a big deal. There are a lot more Tuckers spread around this country. Canada too. And that's only my father's side." If at all possible, Malcolm grew even paler.

Still laughing, Connor came to a stop next to a little rusted out hatchback that had seen so many repairs, it's original make and paint colour was indeterminable. He laid a hand on the roof, beaming with pride. My eyebrows rose at that; there was a time when Connor would've waited for my approval before buying a car, let alone grow such an obvious attachment to one.

"You like 'er, Trip? She's all mine. Bought her myself. I've been restoring her too."

I reached out to run my fingers along the hood appreciatively, and nodded. "Yeah, she's a beaut, Scooter. Maybe I can lend you a hand while I'm here."

If Conner took offense to my using his childhood nickname, he didn't show it. He simply opened the trunk after a brief fight and a long string of curses that made even Malcolm blush, and we threw our bags in. After another argument during which I nearly had to pull rank, I slid into the car's backseat, leaving the front for Malcolm. I was unsure of his reasoning for putting up a fuss; I didn't know if he was trying to be a gentleman, or if he just didn't want to sit next to my brother for the whole ride. The interior of the car had seen better days, it was stained and patched in places with ducttape. But the carpet and seating had been recently vacuumed, and the car smelled faintly of lemon cleaner.

After a few attempts, the hatchback roared to a start, and Connor pulled out of the parking spot with a squealing of the tires. I noticed Malcolm's white knuckled grip on the armrest, and thought that funny when considering the way we fly the shuttlepods. I wondered how long it would take him to realize who was the one who taught Connor how to drive.

The drive from the spaceport to my parents house wasn't all that long, and thankfully Connor filled the time by pointing out meaningless locations to Malcolm. The old highschool we all used to go to, the ice cream parlour the Tucker family single handedly kept in business, the intersection where I totalled our mom's brand new car. Malcolm took in all the sights with good nature, chuckling politely at all the right points and gaping in awe at the others. Every few miles or so, when Mal was otherwise occupied with dutiful looking, Connor would glance back at me through the rear view mirror, and chew his lip worriedly. I wasn't sure if he thought he was being surreptitious or not, but I did nothing to allay his obvious concern. The closer we got to our parents house, the more I wanted to turn around and go back. I wasn't sure if I could deal with their questions; about the Xindi, the mission, the weapon. I knew I wasn't allowed to say much more than the media reports did, but it was doubtful my family would accept that as an answer.

"Neighbourhood hasn't changed much, has it, Trip?"Connor asked, and again I felt his gaze on me. I only shook my head; it was past the point of him being able to draw me out in conversation. My fingers twitched where they rested on my knee; I had to fight the urge to rip open the car door and flee while it still moved. The only thing that stopped me was the thought of being seriously injured because of the momentum, and having to spend more than two weeks here.

We turned onto my parents street, and the first thing that hit me was the grouping of cars around my parents house. They still lived in the same two story, farm house imitation, complete with wraparound deck and porch swing. Pale yellow siding, light blue shutters. My mother was a gardening enthusiast, and that much was visible in the neatly trimmed gardens adorning the front yard. The house backed right onto the beach, and even included its own rickety wooden dock not visible fromt the street.

Connor parked down the street aways, the closest he could get without pulling up onto the front lawn. It took far too much effort to lever myself out of the backseat, and when I finally spilled out onto the sidewalk, Malcolm was there, shaking his head slightly.

"I told you I should've taken the backseat. My legs aren't as long as yours. It would've been easier on me."

"Yeah, yeah." I grimaced as the feeling returned to limbs that had been denied blood supply. "Just help me up, will ya?"

He hauled me to my feet, and after retrieving our bags from the trunk, we set off to the house.

"Trip." Connor appeared at my side, and fixed me with his now familiar look of concern. He made a show of looking me up and down. "Just a little warning, bro. Mom's been really fussy lately, I think it's a reaction to, um, what happened. And you look like shit. She's really gonna get on your case."

I felt my cheeks grow hot, and made a point not to look at Malcolm. "Yeah, well, running a starship is alotta damn work."

Connor only shrugged, and thankfully didn't push the issue any further. As we neared the house, the sound of laughter and good-natured chatter came around from the back. "Seems like the party's already started,"I muttered as we climbed the front steps. Malcolm and I dropped our bags by the front door, while Connor excused himself and slipped into the front hall.

The cedar planks that made up the porch continued around the side of the house, and out of sight of the road, opened up onto a twenty by fourty deck. It was hardly a surprise to hear the family back there; growing up here the majority of our meals had been eaten outdoors, on that deck or on the dock by the beach, with our toes hanging in the water. But now, so close to the action as to be able to make out seperate conversations, I found myself freezing up. My feet stuck to the deck as though the grav plates in the soles of my boots had been activated. I fell back against the siding, covering my face with trembling hands.

"I don't think I can do this, Mal. It's jes' too..."

I felt his hand on my shoulder, and could picture the look of surprised astonishment on his face better than if I had've glanced up at him. No doubt he had already decided exactly what my family was going to be like; any normal person would've made their own asumptions by now. And I was betting that my seeming inability to face them was directly opposite to the view of us he held.

"Trip, it can't be that bad. I'm sure they'll be happy to see you."

I could only wordlessly shake my head. I knew they would ecstatic to see me. Until they found out what I had done. Then I would be lucky if I was allowed to spend the rest of my leave here. But, if there was one thing serving on Enterprise has taught me, it was that there was no reason to put off the inevitable. I straightened slowly, rubbed fiercely at my face with my hands. Besides, living in such close quarters with so many people on the ship had taught me just how to keep private things private.

"You're right. It'll be fine. I'm jes' really tired, y'know?"

I took another deep breath, smoothed out the creases in the front of my uniform, and stepped around the side of the house.

The scene was a carbon copy of my childhood, with only mild differences that even I would be hardpressed to point out. The grown-ups, which now startingly included my sister and her husband, sat around the picnic table on the deck, munching on cold cuts and sipping iced tea. My younger sister, Connor, and my six year old nephew were tossing a tennis ball to Bedford along the great expanse of grass between the deck and the shores of the beach. Everyone was deeply involved in what they were doing, so I was allowed a scant few minutes to bask in the familarity before someone noticed us.

"TRIP!"

Not surprisingly, it was my oldest sister who saw me first. She stood quickly enough to knock a glass of iced tea out of her husband's hand in her haste to greet me. "Hiya, Maggie." I gratefully accepted her hug, lifted her off the ground briefly as I hugged her back. The various relatives in attendance soon caught on, and before I knew it I was in the middle of a giant Tucker family sandwich. I could hear someone thanking God, and another person holding back sobs. But we were all mashed in so closely it was hard to decide who was making what noise.

After a long five minutes, I remembered with a start that Malcolm still stood politely off to one side, waiting for the scene to come to an end and for him to be introduced. It took another full two minutes for me to disengage myself from the group hug.

"Guys, this is Malcolm Reed. He serves with me on Enterprise." I grabbed Malcolm by the front of his uniform, and pulled him closer. He seemed a little gun shy, as though he was wary of being caught in the middle of such an embrace. My family was more perceptive than that. My mother noticed his slight discomfort, and stuck out her hand, which he gratefully accepted.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all,"he said, and I noticed a few eyebrows raise in surprise at the stuffy British accent.

My mother waved the greeting off with her spare hand. "Malcolm, dear, the honour is ours. Anyone who can live on board that ship with my son, and not commit themselves to the looney bin is a friend of mine."

Malcolm grinned at me from the corner of his eye, but I only shook my head. They really had no idea what life was like on Enterprise, but I could hardly expect them to. It wasn't like I had done anything dissaude their erroneous beliefs. Introductions were made, but I was quite sure Malcolm wasn't going to hold on to any of them, and the instant we had a minute apart I would likely be refreshing his memory.

Now that my family was suitably occupied with someone other than me, I turned my comprehensive attentions onto them. My mother looked good; despite the bags under her eyes, I was pretty sure she was keeping it together all right. If I knew her at all, she probably felt she had to be strong for everyone else. My sister Margerat looked fantastic, despite the strain put on her life by the two year old baby on her hip. Her husband Todd stood behind her closely, one hand on her shoulder, and the other on the baby's back, as she made small talk with Malcolm. My other sister Samantha had lost weight, but whether it was on purpose or not I wasn't sure. I knew she had always had weight issues, as unnecessary as they were. Problem was, she had never listened to me when I told her she was beautiful the way she was. She was in school to become a police officer, so I assumed that it could be the effect the training was having on her body. My father was notably absent from the lunch, but that didn't surprise me in the least. He had barely been able to make time for me when I was planetside all the time. I could hardly expect him to find the time now. Despite my brother's previous warnings, Uncle Frank and Aunt Sheila were not attendance. At least, not that I could see.

An enthousiastic barking caught my attention, and with a grin, I slipped away from the group and headed down to the grass. For a twenty five year old golden retriever, Bedford was giving my nephew Dillan a run for his money. The dog that had practically raised me was now doing his best for the next generation of rambunctious Tuckers. As I neared their game of fetch, I let out a long, low whistle. Bedford's head shot up immediately, and the tennis ball he'd been carrying fell from his mouth. Despite Dillan's rather vocal protests, Bedford forgot the game and charged forward towards me. I dropped to my knees on the dew soaked grass, and threw my arms around the blond hairball as he leapt ontop of me.

"Uncle Trip! We were playing a game!" I waited until Dillan's plaintive wailing neared us, then stuck an arm out and pulled him into the fray. His squeal was ear shattering, but he didn't otherwise protest. After a short wrestle, Bedford and I decided we were far too old for such behaviour. I stood, taking Dillan with me and swinging him over my shoulder. Bedford trotted along happily as we headed back towards the deck, and with a smile, I noticed Malcolm was sitting at the centre of the table, no doubt regailing the family with stories of Enterprise's armoury. There was half eaten sandwich on the table in front of him, and my sister was pushing a glass of iced tea into his hand. He glanced up as I stomped up the stairs, and dropped Dillan down on the bench. "Mal, this rude little hellion here is my nephew Dillan. Maggie and Todd's son."

Malcolm inclined his head in a decidedly British greeting, then grinned as something seemed to occur to him. "I believe I owe you a debt of thanks,"he said to Dillan, extending his hand across the table. Confused but polite nonetheless, Dillan accepted the hand. "What for?"Maggie asked.

Malcolm's grin only widened. "Your young child here gave the bridge crew the greatest laugh this side of the solar system. Embarrassed your brother too, no doubt. Imagine a man of his education having to explain where all the "poop" goes."

Spatterings of answering laughter sounded from around the table. I glared down at Malcolm. "A curious mind is a healthy mind, Malcolm. I'll answer any questions without embarrassment." I noticed a few mouths opening, and added, "when I'm on duty."

My mother grinned up at me, then suddenly stood. "Oh, look where my manners have gone. Here we are talking your ears off, and you haven't even been able to change yet. Right this way, Malcolm."

I gently pushed her back down to her seat. "Relax, mom. I can show him where everything is. I used to live here, y'know."

She rolled her eyes at me, then said to Malcolm, "I hope you don't mind, dear, but we're a little tight on space. We had to stick you on a cot in Trip's old room."

Mal assured her that would be fine, and I didn't feel the need to tell her that even with us sharing the bedroom, we would still each have more room than we were alotted on Enterprise, despite being officers. I led Malcolm in through the French doors at the back of the house, connected to the kitchen. Connor had apparently grabbed our bags from the front porch; they now waited for us at the bottom of the stairs.

"This is a beautiful house, Trip,"Malcolm offered, as we started up the staircase. I nodded my agreement.

"Yeah, it is, isn't it? I never appreciated it growing up, jes' cursed the lack of privacy." I fell silent then, knowing that I would give anything to have Lizzie knocking on my door in the middle of a make-out session with Rachel Gordon again. I reached the stop of the stairs, and paused for a split second. There it was. Her room. I was vaguely aware of passing my bag to Malcolm, and pointing him in the direction of the last door on the left. He seemed to understand, and left without a word. I took another hesitant step forward, reaching out with outstretched fingers to touch the brass doorknob.

"It's hard, isn't it?"

I whirled around at the sudden voice, letting out a string of curses at the intrusion. Maggie stared up at me, not phased in the least. Her green eyes held a certain wisdom in them; she had definitely matured since I had seen her last. Without me being around, all of the duties of eldest child had to have fallen on her shoulders. It occurred to me then that as hard as it was being away from home when Lizzie was killed, I imagine it would've been worse being here. I nodded stiffly, not trusting my voice at the moment.

Maggie re-balanced the baby on her hip, and smiled sadly. "It's still the same in there; nobody's moved anything. I still haven't gathered up the courage to go in."

She reached out to take my hand lightly in hers. "It must've been really tough, being out there when you learned about all of this."

I coughed quietly, then said, "I was just thinking it would've been harder being here." Her hand tightened reflexively on mine, then she was gone, moving down the hallway to her own childhood room.

It was a long few minutes before I was able to move again.

A/N: The Bedford mentioned here is the same Bedford that Sim mentioned in Simultude. I simply reasoned that if such great advances were made in human medicine at that time, why couldn't pets lives be extended as well?