TITLE: Desert Thoughts


E-MAIL: scarab@blueyonder.co.uk

URL: http://www.lookout2.com/nautika/sara/

DATE: 07/10/02

SUMMARY: Archer thinks about Trip

PAIRINGS: Archer/Tucker. nothing slashy though. sorry!…although could be pre-slash!


SERIES: Desert Thoughts

NEXT STORY: Desert Desires

ARCHIVE: Yes, if you think it's good enough and you let me know where it's going.

DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately I don't own Enterprise or her crew, Paramount does (although if they ever get tired of Trip, I can offer him a good home!)

WARNINGS: Spoilers for Desert Crossing.

FEEDBACK: Only if you think it's worthy of some :o)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I've only seen Desert Crossing twice and so some of the dialogue may be a little off, for this I apologise and hope that it doesn't stop you enjoying it This is a story that I posted on another site, but as I've got the third part ready to post, I thought I'd post the first two here, just in case someone hasn't seen it. It was my first attempt at an Enterprise fic and I hope you enjoy it.

I am started awake by the thoughts I am having about my best friend. Since our return from that desert hell, and Trip's recovery, I can't shake the image of him in my arms, the feel of his body against mine, his breath against my neck. I scrub my hands across my face and peer into the darkness of my quarters. By my side Porthos stirs and I wish it were someone else sharing my bed.

Resigned to the fact that I will not be able to go back to sleep I head towards the messhall for some coffee. I realise that in a few short hours I will have to maintain my role as the Captain of a Starfleet vessel and face the person who haunts my dreams.

The room is in semi-darkness and I walk over to the drink dispenser. After filling my cup I turn towards the windows and almost have a heart attack. Sitting in the shadows is a figure and I soon recognise it as Trip.

"Jeez. you scared the crap out of me."


"What are you doing here anyway." I ask, realising that I'm not the only insomniac aboard.

"Couldn't sleep" he shrugs and my initial shock at seeing him sitting there is replaced by concern for my friend, as I see the haunted look in his eyes.

"Okay let's have it." I sit opposite him and he knows that I'm not going to let him off the hook. After a couple of minutes he looks up at me.

"I'm sorry."

"What?" I look at him confused.

"I'm sorry I let you down."


"On the planet. If it wasn't for me you wouldn't have almost got killed."

"Hey, there was never any chance of that." I smile at him, but his normally mischievous blue eyes look doubtful.

"You would never have left me, even if it meant you'd die too. Why?"

"You're my friend and.." I sigh heavily, ".. If anyone should be to blame and need to apologise it should be me." He looks puzzled; "I dragged you down there knowing that you hated the heat. If you'd died, I don't think.."

"Hey," he reaches across and touches my arm, "I didn't die and it was thanks to you." He smiles at me and I know that he's okay, his guilt, like mine has lifted slightly. "So what brings you down here at this time of night?" He asks changing the subject.

"Couldn't sleep." I answer nonchalantly.

"Yeah I keep getting nightmares too," he pauses, waiting for me to make a comment, I don't so he continues, "about being stuck in that desert, only this time we aren't rescued.." his voice trails off.

"Hey it's only natural after going through a traumatic experience to have a few sleepless nights." I put my hand on his shoulder giving it a reassuring squeeze. "The nightmares will pass."

"I know, so what are yours about?"

"I'm not exactly having nightmares," I answer quietly.

"Then what then?" His curiosity is piqued, "C'mon I told you about mine."

I suddenly realise that unless I can think of something fast I'm either going to offend my best friend by not trusting him with the content of my dreams, or offend my best friend by telling him about the content of my dreams. He looks at me expectantly and my embarrassed expression tells him more than any words. He grins and the haunted look that was in his eyes mere moments ago disappears and is replaced with humour.

"You've not been having erotic thoughts about T'Pol again have ya?"

"No!" I answer quickly then realise that I had given up an escape route, I shrug knowing that Trip can always tell when I'm not being completely honest. "Let's just say that I have been having some rather interesting dreams about a member of the crew."

"Who?" He leans forward urging me to spill the beans.

"It's a little complicated."

"Oh," he sits back and I can tell I've hurt his feelings, "Sorry I didn't mean to pry." He looks at me with that puppy dog expression that I'm sure he's picked up from Porthos.

No, your not prying, it's just that.." I run my hand through my hair and decide to bite the bullet, "It's not a woman."

I thought I knew all of Trip's expressions but the look on his face now is a new one on me. "Your tellin' me that you're having dreams where you're having sex and it's not with a woman." He looks worried and then disgusted. "It's not Porthos is it."

TRIP! That's sick."

Well, who then? Phlox?"

"No it's not Phlox or any other alien or animal we've come across." I stand up and turn my back on him, "Let's just forget I said anything shall we."

I can't do that."


"Because my best friend has just told me somethin' that is clearly botherin' him and I want to help."

I turn and realise that he's been standing behind me, and when I see the concern in his eyes all my resolve leaves me and I sink back down on the chair.

"Since we got back I've been having sexual dreams about a senior member of my crew.." I pause as he slowly sits opposite me, ".. a male member of my crew."

Realisation suddenly dawns and Trip leans back in the chair and laughs, "Jonathan Archer you sonofabitch." He leans forward again, shaking his head, "This is the best one yet. You really got me going there, making me think you'd been having erotic fantasies about Malcolm."

"It's not a joke Trip and it's not Malcolm, " I can feel myself getting angry, I can't believe he's laughing at this, laughing at me, "It's you." My words silence his laughter and he looks stunned, "Yes Trip it's you, I keep dreaming that I'm fucking your brains out and you're enjoying every minute of it."

He stands and walks away from the table; I follow and grab his arm, turning him to face me. He looks angry and I realise that I've probably lost my best friend, so with nothing else to loose I pull him to me and kiss him. As our lips meet he stiffens and then, as if realising what I'm doing, pushes me away. Suddenly I'm on my ass, I didn't even realise he had punched me, so lost in the feel of his lips on mine. As I watch him walk out of the door, one thought springs to my mind, 'What have I done.'

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