The insistant chirp of the intercom drove its irritating sound into the dreams of Commander Charles 'Trip' Tucker III. He grunted in annoyance and stirred, reaching over to hit the button.

"Tucker."

"Archer here. Trip, Malcolm with you?"

Trip turned to watch the slim figure of his lover stretched out naked at his side, coming slowly around himself. Reed lifted his head and looked at Trip from sleepy, blue-gray eyes, dark hair in disarray from sleep and—well, other activities. He was one mouth-watering sight at this early morning hour, Trip thought, glad that he was the only one allowed to see his lover like this.

"Yep, Cap'n. Somethin' wrong?"

Trip tried his best to keep his voice level when a mischievous sparkle lit up Malcolm's eyes, and he disappeared under the blanket, sliding down Trip's body to give some attention to a very special part of his anatomy.

"No. Just want to see you both in my ready room. One hour."

"We'll be there."

Trip switched the intercom off and moaned deep in his throat when Malcolm's activities under the blanket became more specific.

"Mal…"

Trip tossed the blanket away to get a look at his lover, who was still occupied.

"Mal…"

"What? We have one hour, right?"

"Yeah…" Trip breathed.

It was the last coherent thought for at least half an hour, except for the screaming of his lover's name.

After a short shower and an even shorter breakfast, Trip felt presentable again. Despite the welcome his lover had presented him this morning he was still wondering…

"Malcolm? Have we done anything?"

"What do you mean?"

"Jon wants to see us both in his ready room. Normally that means either you or me have done somethin'."

"I don't recall anything."

"Me neither."

"Trip. I think we just wait and see, don't you think?"

"Hm-hm. But it's somewhat unnerving…"

"Trip…"

"I mean .."

"Trip!"

"What?"

"Shut up."

"How are you talking to you senior officer, Lieutenant?"

"Didn't remember you protesting last night…"

"Malcolm?"

"Hm?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

"Aye, sir."

*

How they would manage to be at Archer's ready room on time Malcolm had no idea. It wasn't as if they were new lovers, for goodness sake. But since they had visited Merebius Nova some time ago and tasted a sample of the local aphrodisiac called Riobhan something had changed in their two year relationship. Not that he complained about it, mind you. Somehow it was as if the experience of a whole night filled with love and lovemaking, sometimes gentle, sensuous and slow, sometimes rather passionate and a little rough, had brought something to the surface Malcolm hadn't known was in him. He grinned when he remembered last night.

Oh yes, Trip Tucker definitely had a crush on white silk scarfs…another memento from said planet. Not that either one of them was the permanent submissive or dominant part; not at all. And it wasn't as if they needed that permanently. Sometimes it was enough just to lie there, snuggled against the other, and simply feel, the sensation of bare skin under one's hands, the heart beating, the way the other one's hair felt under a gentle touch, or a soft duel of tongues in a loving kiss, before they dozed off, entangled into one another. Malcolm shot the man walking beside him a short glance, and smiled again. Trip Tucker could be a volcano in bed, oh yes. But he was gentle and caring, compassionate and warm as well, giving as good as he got. They were together for over two years now, all right, but Malcolm had felt his feelings for this man change in a most subtle way, from falling in love to deeply and utterly loving.

"Mal?" Trip looked at him frowning a little. "You okay?"

"Absolutely. Was just thinking."

"'Bout what?"

"How much I love you."

It earned him a surprised look. Malcolm didn't wonder why Trip glanced at him in surprise, he normally didn't express his love in public. Not that the crew didn't know about them by now. But normally Malcolm Reed was a more private person.

"Love you, too," Trip said softly and gave a short nod, indicating that they had arrived at their destination when he pushed the button.

"Come." Archer called.

All right, this was it.

"Cap'n?" Trip asked.

"At ease, you two," Archer winked at them., "This is nothing official. And no," he twinkled at Trip, "just for once you haven't done nothing."

Malcolm didn't expect anything else, but couldn't say he wasn't relieved, though.

"Then would you mind telling us what this is all about, sir?" he asked.

"Uhm, well," Archer appeared to feel—uncomfortable? "You see, there is a problem with…uhm, we have difficulties in the…well…"

"Jon??"

"Is it something referring ship's security, sir?" Malcolm was deeply worried now.

Archer nodded.

"Indeed it is, Lieutenant. I think it will be the best if you two just follow me."

Malcolm looked at Trip when Archer walked past them, and Tucker shrugged, he couldn't make anything of this either. The armory officer felt suspicion rose in him. He didn't like this, not a single bit. Well, if they wanted to find out they had to follow their Captain, as it seemed.

When they reached their destination only shortly later, Malcolm felt completely confused. What kind of a problem required the attention of both chief engineer and armory officer at the mess hall?

"Errr, Jon, you sure?"

"Completely, commander. Please follow me."

The moment the door swooshed open and he saw what was going on Malcolm felt like hit in the stomach. Oh no…please, everything but this…

It looked as if almost the whole crew was there, which was highly unlikely due to the size of the mess hall. But at the least it was the bridge crew, Trip's engineering crew and his own staff, smiling at the newcomers.

It was a surprise party.

Completely with decoration and cake—pineapple doubtlessly.

"Did I miss your birthday? Trip murmured from behind, slipping a hand around his waist.

"Trip!" Malcolm hissed and tried to shake it off.

"At ease, Lieutenant, as I said before, this isn't official." Archer smiled, "And no, it has nothing to do with your birthdays. It's uhm…" he cleared his throat.

"It's because…you see…"

"Captain, if I may?" Mayweather interrupted, and Jon nodded at him.

"Commander, Lieutenant, it is just a party for the two of you. No special reason. Well, not really. We noticed that you two are an item for about two years now, and it seemed to us you weren't celebrating that anniversary. So we decided we'd do that for you. Happy anniversary, Commander."

He handed a glass over to a very stunned Trip Tucker.

"Happy anniversary, Lieutenant." Hoshi Sato did the same, twinkle in her eyes.

"That is…wow, guys, I'm speechless." Trip muttered.

"Halleluja! Never though I'd live to see that day." Jon grinned. "Now, unwrap your presents."

"Presents?"

Malcolm swallowed. He hadn't noticed the pile of neatly wrapped packages on the table.

"Oh, maybe you would like a piece of cake first? Chef has topped himself, I assume."

"Well, cap'n, I take one of each, " Trip grinned at his utterly shocked lover, and buried his fork into his share of cake, rolling his eyes at the taste. "That man knows how to cook. A shame I'm no longer available…"

"What? Don't tell me you would trade me for someone else just because he can cook?" Malcolm decided it was all right to overcome his shock, taking advantage of a helpless piece of cake himself.

"Well…you can't, right?"

"But you can? Ha."

"Don't 'ha' me here, Mal."

"I have other qualities, commander," Malcolm whispered and aimed carefully, getting a small blot of whipped cream to land on Trip's nose.

Only to take care of it himself quickly, of course.

"Hey, you lovebirds. What about the presents now?"

"Right. Presents." Trip murmured, a light shining in his eyes. Malcolm sighed. Sometimes this man was nothing but a big child.

"Wow, Mal, would ya look at this?"

Trip grinned, showing the first present, and Malcolm groaned. He should have known…Travis Mayweather twinkled at him, giving his shoulder a short slap.

"Thought you could make good use of these."

"Thank you," Malcolm murmured and shuddered involuntarily at his lover's mischievous smirk. Handcuffs. With fur! Yikes.

Several presents and embarrassments later -who the hell had any use for three vibrators?—on the other hand—different shape, size and color…well, one could never know; Malcolm felt more confused than ever. He didn't know what to make of all of this. His relation to the crew had changed within the last two years, since he got together with Trip, but he had ever pictured himself as somewhat an outsider. He had grown accustomed to express his feelings for Trip, but never in public. Well, except for today. He couldn't exactly tell why, but he had felt—playful?

"Hi." A soft southern voice purred, two arms wrapped themselves around his waist from behind.

"Hi yourself."

"You're in for testing some o' that stuff tonight?"

"Sorry. Duty." "What a shame." A wet kiss was placed on his ear, and Trip turned toward the table, getting himself some more goodies. Malcolm watched his lover walk, the way the fabric stretched firmly over his behind, and he smiled faintly. He knew very well what he would do with that behind the next time he laid hands on it…

"Oh, Malcolm, here you are" Archer gave him a knowing smile.

"I almost forgot. Trip, I was asked by the prime minister of Merebius Nova to give you this as a special gift. He said next time you come for a visit drop by at the house of Galeii again. Does that make sense to you?"

Malcolm's eyes widened as he took in the true meaning of his captain's words. In addition to the bottle like shape of the 'special gift' it indeed made sense.

Oh no…he wouldn't…he probably hadn't…?

He had.

Trip unwrapped the bottle and whistled through his teeth as he recognized the blue liquid. Malcolm held his breath at the hot glance his lover shot him over the table, remembering only too well the events in said house. He swallowed hard and tried his best to not remember them too vividly…or he would embarrass himself, deeply. The armory officer groaned inwardly as he felt his blood rush down south at the fruitlessness of his attempts. Trip's warm tongue returning to his ear didn't exactly help.

He had been glad Trip hadn't been able to purchase a bottle of Riobhan. No way to imagine what he would have done with a whole bottle of that stuff—or what that stuff would have done to them.

Well, it seemed they were about to find out.

"Oh, and you have free time for the next forty eight hours. Crewmen Sanders and Billings are taking your shifts."

Malcolm groaned again at the expression on his lover's face, as Trip murmured some thankful words and pushed him out of the room.

*

"Now, what am I to do with you?"

Trip's hands were wandering over his body, while he nipped at Malcolm's throat. The several gifts and presents were laying on the table, on top a bottle with juice-like liquid.

"Trip…"

"That's my name, lover…"

"Don't."

Trip stopped and looked at him confused.

"Somethin' wrong, Mal?"

"What was that all about?"

"What? The party?"

"Yes."

Trip sighed and sat down on the bed, looking questioningly at his lover.

"You really have no idea?"

"No."

"They said it. Our anniversary. They are right with one thing, Mal, we haven't celebrated it. Neither one, and I think that's a shame. We should've done that, and I have to admit I'm grateful our friends are doing it for us."

"Why?"

"Why what? Why I'm thankful? Why we haven't thought of it ourselves? Or why are they doing it?"

"All of the above, I think. I find this—confusing."

"Mal, these people are telling you something with this. They are telling you that you are a part of something, that you are their friend, one of them and they care for you. That they think of you, respect you—and like you. That's what this is all about. And that's what I'm thankful for. I should've done that myself. By thinking of our anniversary myself."

"It's not important."

Trip grabbed Malcolm at the waist and pulled him onto the best until he came to rest on top of him.

"Oh yes, it is." Tucker whispered and kissed him tenderly yet thoroughly "You are the man I love, the man I want to spent the rest of my life with. I should show this to you more often."

"You already do." Malcolm whispered, returning the kiss, hand slipping under the uniform and caressing every inch of skin he could get his fingers on. Trip moaned as he reacted, hips bucking into Malcolm's as his arousal grew.

"Mal? Would you like a drink?"

"Riobhan?"

"Uhm-hm?"

"Don't need that…you're enough…"

"Neither do I. But I want to play with my toys…"

"All of them?!"

"Sure…the cuffs are looking quite tempting…"

Trip laughed at Malcolm's groan of sheer terror and reached over for the bottle.