Captain's Ready Room…

"What happened out there?"

It was a sensible question, one he had expected but it was hard to answer, so jumbled and emotional were the images that flooded his mind.

"We almost died," he answered, his dry sense of understatement bemusedly given.

Jonathan Archer smiled, shaking his head. He leaned back, putting his feet on a chair before him. "Your British sensibilities are showing again."

Malcolm sat down, sipping the scotch in his glass. "I guess they are."

"Trip has been uncharacteristically quiet of late. I was wondering if there was anything I should know about."

"What do you mean?" Malcolm asked, peering at him over the edge of the glass.

"I don't know…were there any revelations that I should know about? Any dying declarations?"

Malcolm smiled slightly. "I think we both went a bit mad."

"Tell me about it," Jonathan asked, grinning warmly at his lover.

Malcolm looked at him, at the kind face and warm eyes of his commander and sighed. "I think I may have made a fool of myself."

"How?"

"I didn't think we'd be saved," Malcolm replied.

"How could you know?" Jonathan asked.

"I couldn't, but I didn't even think for a moment that it was possible. It was all that Commander Tucker *could* think about, that someone would save us."

It was silent for a moment.

"I thought about a number of things and I still am," Malcolm said, turning his gaze away. "I realized how empty and lonely things were until Enterprise." He looked at Archer and sighed. "I have always been distant."

Archer nodded, waiting. He watched the struggle on Malcolm's face. "You can tell me, Malcolm. I hope you know you can."

Malcolm nodded. "I know," he replied, sipping the liquor. "I have always been alone in some ways, sort of isolated. I don't know why. Maybe it was the way I was raised. My parents were never quite sure what to do with me. My family sort of think, I suppose, that I ended up here to get as far from them as I could. But…I never wanted that. I wanted connection."

"You have it here."

"I know," Malcolm said, nodding. He sighed. "That rocked me, seeing the ship scattered all over. The place where I finally had begun to feel at home appeared to be destroyed, taking all the people I cared for with it. I found that devastating."

"I can imagine," Archer replied.

"I did a lot of talking, recording messages all over the place. I think it irritated Commander Tucker because he felt we weren't doomed."

"Yankee optimism," Archer replied, smiling.

"I guess so," Malcolm said, smiling. "We got drunk."

"My bottle," Archer said, nodding. "Worst thing you can do when you're cold is to drink alcohol."

"I know," Malcolm said, nodding. "I figured it was a last hurrah. By that time I didn't care about too much." It was quiet a moment. Then Malcolm sighed. "I wrote a lot of letters."

"You would want to say goodbye to your family if you could," Archer replied, nodding.

Malcolm felt the heat rising in his cheeks. He glanced at Archer and sighed. "It wasn't just to them. I wrote about a zillion farewell letters to girls in San Francisco and London and Australia."

It was silent a moment and Archer shifted in his chair, his gaze fixed firmly on the forlorn figure of his lover.

"Girls?"

Malcolm stared at him, shaking his head. "During my childhood I was raised with set expectations. I was going to be what my parents wanted. I never fit that protocol. I was different but I assumed it was just about what I wanted or desired to be, you know…my career and dreams about the future."

"You never figured on being gay…" Archer supplied.

Malcolm shook his head. "No. I never figured on it. I denied it for years until I went to school at Star Fleet. Being in San Francisco was liberating. I used to go and check out the club scene, the gay bars and dance places. I didn't want anyone to see me so I always went alone."

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Archer asked.

"I was overwhelmed. I fled them but they always drew me back. When I had to go to regular places I always made a show, sort of imitating other cadets so I wouldn't be found out. I made all these relationships but they were always short and futile."

"Girls…"

Malcolm nodded. "Yes. Girls. I would flirt with them and when we'd end up in bed it was so unsatisfying. I thought it was because of my shyness or something. I thought it was because I was emotionally backward or isolated or immature."

Archer nodded. "You weren't drawn to women."

Malcolm nodded. "I tried to be. I worked at it really hard. But it wasn't to be."

"What did you do?"

"Repressed myself. I submerged myself into work," Malcolm replied. "I hid my real self and kept trying. It didn't work of course."

"Of course," Archer replied, smiling.

Malcolm managed a faint smile. "I just needed to talk, to clear the air in my head I guess. I made a farewell letter to each of those women and every person I knew because I didn't want to just *end*. I didn't want to just fade out and not be remembered."

"Your family…"

"My *family*…my family doesn't know me and they never have. It just seemed at that moment, when it didn't seem that there was any other way out that I would be dead and instantly forgotten. I didn't want to leave with things unsaid." He sighed. "I hadn't left anything of me behind. When I died, it would all be over and done with."

It was silent a moment and then Archer set down his glass. "I would miss you."

Malcolm looked up from the floor and met Archer's warm gaze. For a moment he couldn't speak. He nodded. "I missed you, the whole time. I missed this ship. I felt for the first time in my life like I belonged some place. I didn't want to lose that."

Archer nodded. The door chime signaled and he sighed, turning his head toward it. "Come."

The door opened and Trip entered, pausing. "I'm not interrupting anything am I?"

"No," Archer said. "Get a glass and I'll pour you a drink."

Trip turned and pulled one out of the cupboard, holding it out as Archer filled it. He moved past Malcolm and sat down, sipping the liquid with pleasure.

"The last time I had a drink I was frozen half to death."

Archer chuckled. "So I heard."

Trip looked at Malcolm with wary eyes. "Did he tell you that he thinks T'Pol is pretty? Looks like you have some serious competition, Cap'n"

Malcolm frowned and downed his glass, holding it out for more. "Deliriums, I assure you."

Trip snorted and held out his glass. They both touched their own to his. He grinned and looked at both. "La chaim."

Archer smiled. "To life."

Malcolm sighed and smiled. "To Enterprise and to Yankee optimism."

"Here, here," Trip replied, downing his drink. "Whoo," he said, licking his lips. "I can't believe I drank half a bottle of this stuff."

"You were half dead with cold at the time," Malcolm said, smiling.

"I was," Trip said, rising and setting his glass down. "I was wondering if you would join me for dinner."

"Meat loaf?" Malcolm asked, rising.

"And sea bass," Trip replied, a grin on his face.

"Sounds good to me," Malcolm said, pausing as Archer rose to join them. "Commander Tucker has found new applications for root vegetables. Perhaps he would enlighten you during dinner."

"I wouldn't think that would be necessary," Trip said to the general groans of all concerned as they stepped out into the corridor. The door closed behind them, cutting off their laughter as they walked to the Mess Hall to dine.