Title: Rain

Author: Kipli

Author's email: kipli16@yahoo.com

Author's URL: http://kipli.net/fiction.html

Date: 11/16/02

Rating: PG

Pairing: Reed/Mayweather

Summary: Planet-side, Reed contemplates the rain while sitting in Mayweather's arms.

Archive: Yes to EntSTSlash, Archers_Enterprise, and WWOMB, otherwise ask first pretty please.

Feedback: Yes

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the universe. I just live there.

Status: Complete

Series: No

Spoilers: Slightly for "Minefield"

Comments: This fanfic includes m/m romantic and physical situations. Quite short, no beta. I live in Washington State, where it rains nine months out of the year—and I prefer it that way. Then the similarities between wet English and Washington weather was spelled out explicitly in a book I'm reading. So my instant thought was: I wonder if Malcolm likes rain.

A tiny assault on the world. Clouds release fat raindrops toward the hard packed earth. They splatter onto treetops, rooftops, and topsoil. An endless barrage of liquid water soldiers. Troops form and regroup in puddles. Everything is coated and soaked in the damp casualties. This is an air attack on the draught that is summer. The wind blows the rain as if rallying to join in the fight. The fight for an end and a new beginning. "For fall," I whisper aloud.

Warm arms tighten around me. "Hm?"

I look away from the rainstorm outside and the domed window that surrounds us. Travis smiles sweetly at me. He doesn't understand my interest in the rain, but he's more than willing to make it an excuse to get me to cuddle. He must have heard me. "The seasons are changing here," I try to explain. "I can feel it. The way the rain comes down." I snuggle my back against Travis' warm, firm chest as I look back outside. We're alone on shoreleave. We rented a cabin deep in the forest. It's not usually my first choice for shoreleave local. I'm much more interested in museums and bar hopping than hiking and climbing. But now I am not at all sorry I let Travis make the shoreleave arrangements. This planet's people must also have an affiliation for the rain. Attached to the rustic yet modern cabin is the small domed room we're sitting in now. The window encompasses the outside wall and ceiling. The floor is simply a mattress. Travis is currently leaning against an assortment of pillows, keeping us both upright.

My thoughts sudden shift back to Travis as he replies.

"You can tell all of that from the rain?"

I nod as I track one raindrop as it falls down the window and out of sight. "Rain brings life."

I probably should explain more, but I'm uncertain how. What do I tell a Boomer about my life of growing up in England, Malaysia, and wherever else in-between that my father was stationed? How do I explain the light rains of London? The crashing downpours of Kota Baharu? From drizzle to monsoon, rainstorms have different tones and feels to them. And this one felt of fall. There was the shouting of more cold rain to come throughout fall and winter, yet the quiet promise of warmth and growth in the distant spring and summer. I spent years outside in the rain, at first to get away from my father, and then later also because I enjoyed the rain. Every storm would bring to life something new. Drenching monsoons are the most spectacular to witness. After the brutal downpour, every piece of life wakes up from the drenching and seems to rejoice. So how can I explain it to him? How do I explain what I know when I hear and see in the raindrops? I just know.

"I always thought rain was supposed to be depressing."

"Only if you miss the big picture." I sigh and turn my head enough to see Travis. "Rain keeps the forest green, keeps the life cycle going. How can that be depressing?"

Travis smiles and runs a hand along my cheek. "Well, when you put it that way…"

I can't help smiling back. He doesn't say it, but he could care less about the rain. He's just happy to see me like this. Not that I don't mind cuddling. There just always seems to be, well, something better we could be doing—work or play. But here Travis can cuddle, and I can watch the rain.

"It's soothing…reassuring somehow." I look back out at the storm. It's not violent enough to be worrisome, but it is determined enough to keep my attention. Wind rushes through the trees and the rain nearly falls horizontally for a moment. I listen to the tapping of rain on the window. My father never understood how I could so enjoy a good rainstorm but yet have an extreme fear of drowning. But there is a difference. Rain splashes you in the face but never tries to kill you. It's not vast and dark, deep and deadly. It doesn't want to grab you and never let go. I swallow back thoughts of the sea and focus myself back on the playful raindrops outside.

Travis simply kisses my neck before wrapping his arms loosely around my chest again. He'd be happy to sit like this all day, I suddenly realize. And, I have to admit, the prospect is quite appealing. There's never a rainstorm to listen to while onboard Enterprise. We could indeed just stay like this. Well, for as long as the rain continues.

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