Captain Jonathan Archer was sitting on one of the stationary bikes in the gym, hitting the pedals with full force. He was panting from the exertion and he felt sweat trickling down the midline of his chest.

His eyes wandered to the man in front of him and it took up all his will power not to start moaning. No matter how exhausted he was, seeing Lieutenant Malcolm Reed like that made it clear that not every part of his body had gotten the workout it wanted and needed.

The armory officer was down on the ground, doing abdominal crunches. He wore a pair of dark blue boxer shorts and a sleeveless white shirt. His arms and legs were covered by a light sheen of sweat and his dark hair was ruffled. The well-trained Brit curled and uncurled his catlike body in precise rhythm, the muscles under the lightly tanned skin moving and shifting gracefully.

Enterprise's CO imagined stepping off the bike and walking over to his tactical expert. He would place one foot on either side of the desirable body and would look down at Malcolm whose fingers would still be laced behind his head, his arms flat on the floor, a broad grin on his beautiful lips.

"Is there somethin' I can do for ya, Cap'n?" the Englishman would say, mimicking Trip's Southern drawl. He would place his hands on the older man's ankles and would gently stroke up and down the muscular calves.

"You could start by getting your cute butt up and into my quarters, Lieutenant!" Jonathan said huskily.

"I beg your pardon, Sir?"

The captain was pulled out of his reverie as he noticed Lieutenant Hess, who sat on the bike next to his, staring at him. The handsome woman, a member of engineering team, gaped at him.

Jonathan blushed furiously. "Uhm…nothing, Lieutenant…uhm…I'm sorry!"

She furrowed her brow and went on with her exercises, casting him suspicious looks.

'Oh! My! God! You stupid idiot!' he cursed himself. A few more of those slips and the crew would think he had gone completely mad.

In the meantime Malcolm had started to do a martial arts routine with Sergeant Kemper. They were circling each other and Archer admired the perfection with which the Lieutenant was moving.

He cleared his throat and stepped off the bike, knowing full well that he wouldn't last another minute in Reed's presence.

Picking up his towel from one of the benches he turned towards the door.

At that moment Malcolm stumbled backwards and he fell right into Jonathan's arms, his back pressed against the older man's chest.

Instinctively the captain wrapped his arms around the lean body.

In the split second that the lieutenant was lying in his embrace Archer took in every detail. The scent of sweat and cologne, the moist hair at the nape of Reed's neck, the way the pectorals moved under his hands. Tiny bubbles of pleasure were popping inside of him. He felt the warmth of the Brit's body against his skin, felt his heartbeat.

"I'm sorry, Captain!" the Brit said, backing away from the older man, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. "I hope I didn't hurt you!"

With that he turned around to face the MACO again.

Jon headed for the door and as it swooshed aside he turned around one last time to take a look at his armory officer. 'No, you didn't hurt me…not in that sense anyway.'

***

Now he sat in his quarters aboard Enterprise. 12 years? He almost hadn't believed T'pol when she had told him this morning. Not even the mirror image he had seen in his room down on Ceti Alpha Five had convinced him.

But seeing Malcolm out in the corridor, shaking the hand of the man who now had wrinkles around his beautiful stormy gray eyes and streaks of gray in his hair, had made it clear that the Vulcan had told him the truth.

To him it seemed like he had only seen the Brit hours ago, pressing him against his chest, smelling him, feeling him when he had stumbled into his arms in Enterprise's gym.

And yet 12 years had past. At least for Malcolm.

Jonathan had always been so sure that with him and Malcolm one and one would make a perfect two. He had never thought he could be that wrong about anything.