Star Trek Enterprise. Archer/Reed. The Stranger
TITLE: The Stranger
AUTHOR: Mareel
FANDOM: Star Trek Enterprise
PAIRING: Jonathan Archer/Malcolm Reed
GENRE: Slash
PROMPT: ?. ?/?. Time Travel
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: 1432
SUMMARY: He seems so familiar.
WARNINGS: None
NOTES: This is a Western AU story which takes place sometime after Season 4 during an unspecified mission. Jonathan and Malcolm have a long-established relationship, and this is Malcolm's voice.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, but I promise to take good care of them.
The Stranger
Also at older_not_dead: __________________________________________________
There’s a stranger in town.
At least four people have come up to me with variations of “Marshall Reed, you know anything about that stranger? The one who’s been hanging ‘round the Last Drop Saloon, winning at cards and not answerin’ any questions?” Some of them add that while he’ll spend plenty of gold on buying rounds of drinks, he isn’t spreading the wealth among Miss Adelle’s ladies.
I finally decide I’d better see this mysterious gentleman for myself, But so long as he’s not making trouble, I’m inclined to leave him go about his business, whatever that is. Of course that wasn’t the case with the last stranger who passed through these parts, which is why I ended up here in the first place. So I understand the townsfolk being concerned, and grab my hat, making sure my badge is in plain sight.
The Last Drop is crowded for the middle of the afternoon, but the man they’re referring to is obvious. He’s decked out in pretty fancy gear… he didn’t buy that leather duster in these parts. And damn, he wears it well. Tall, lean but not skinny, long fingers wrapped around his whiskey glass as he picks up another shot to bring back to his corner table.
He’s not playing poker, not really conversing with anyone. It’s more like he’s looking for someone, his eyes studying everyone who comes in.
There’s something vaguely familiar about him. When his gaze turns to me and our eyes meet, I know I’ve seen him somewhere before. He gestures to the empty chair at his table, and I decide to take it. Maybe I’ll get some answers.
“Marshall Reed? Have a seat. Can I buy you a drink?”
“Just coffee, I’m on the job. And you have me at an advantage, sir. Your name is?”
“Archer. Jon Archer. Pleased to meet you.”
I had half-expected him to dissemble or evade my question entirely. And I’ve been lied to enough to be pretty damn sure that’s his real name.
“Are you sure you won’t have a beer at least? I hate to drink alone.”
I have no idea why I nod my agreement and find myself nursing a beer as I try to keep him talking. The feeling of familiarity has only grown stronger. How did he know I was a beer-drinker?
Beyond his name, though, he’s not particularly forthcoming about his origins or what business he has here. I do notice that he seldom takes his eyes off of me. Plenty of men keep an eye on me out of fear or respect for my badge, but this isn’t that. It’s like he’s appraising me… the man, not the Marshall.
Then he surprises me.
“Malcolm.”
Before I can ask him how he knows my given name, he’s continuing to talk, answering at least in part the question that he must have read in my eyes.
“It’s okay. I didn’t mean to startle you. But it’s complicated, how I know your name. Do you want to find out more about it? Maybe we could go somewhere more private to talk? I think we’ve spent enough time together here.”
Mutely, I nod, still dumbfounded but unwilling to deny his request. He has an aura of authority about him, one that when combined with his charm, is mighty attractive, though I could never admit that to anyone here for fear of losing not just my job, but my life.
“I know a place. Let’s go.” I finish the beer in a long gulp as he leaves a generous tip on the table. All eyes in the place follow me as I follow him out the door. “You have a horse?”
He nods toward a roan gelding at the hitching post outside the Last Drop. “Good. Ride out of town to the southwest. There’s a lone cabin down by the creek outside city limits. I’ll meet you there.” Almost as an afterthought, I add, “I’ll take another route.”
I’m not sure why I chose to use my small place on the edge of town rather than meeting with him in my office in the Courthouse. It just feels right, and odds are no one is going to bother us here.
When he arrives, we stable the horses in the rough barn. Once inside my cabin, his gaze takes in the spare simple furnishings, lingering on the neatly made bed. “You live alone here, Malcolm?”
“I do. I used to have a room upstairs at the saloon, but there was too much traffic there for a man to get a good night’s rest.”
“Ahh, and you weren’t interested in the services on offer? Some of those girls looked pretty good.”
I shake my head. “No need to lie to me. I’ve been told that you have no interest in them either, not in that way. I know you’re a stranger here, but you might want to reconsider that. People talk.”
He shakes his head and shrugs off his duster before seating himself on the edge of the bed, uninvited. “I’m not going to be here that long, Malcolm.”
I raise an eyebrow, willing him to continue.
“And neither are you, I hope. I’ve come to take you home, if you’ll trust me.”
Tossing my hat onto the table next to his, I sit down next to him, stunned at his words and his audacity. “Why the hell should I go anywhere with you? Granted, it does seem like I know you from somewhere, but I don’t know where or how… “
His eyes never leave mine as he slowly reaches for my hand, enfolding it in his. Nothing has ever felt so right… even if everything is wrong about it.
Jon’s voice is low, almost tender. “You do know me… very well. We’ve been together for many years.”
I look down at our joined hands and back up at him as he answers my unasked question.
“Yes, together in every way.”
After a long silence, he drops my hand and goes over to the doorway, peering out the small window before latching the door and drawing the tattered curtain over the pane. I get caught up in watching the way he moves, the way his jeans ride low on his hips… It’s distracting. Finally returning to the bed beside me, he takes a deep breath but doesn’t reach for my hand again.
His tone is serious. “I wasn’t sure how much you’d remember of your life before you arrived here. But you’re actually living in Earth’s past. This isn’t the Kansas of our time. You’re the tactical and security officer on a starship… and I’m its captain. You had a mission to complete here that required you to have a temporary memory blur from our physician. It will be restored when we get back to Enterprise tomorrow. If you’ll return with me.”
There is a trace of genuine uncertainty in his voice… that I might choose not to abandon this life for his starship… or for him. But he need not worry.
“I don’t remember anything about a starship, Jon. Or some parallel timeline or whatever this is. But I remember you… and I remember this…” Drawing his head to me, I touch my lips to his. He tastes like heaven… and always has.
He answers the kiss, which threatens to deepen into much more. But he draws back, catching his breath. “Are you sure about this, Malcolm? This will be your last night here, and I know what we’re about to do could get us both strung up. I can leave you alone here - safe - and come back for you in the morning.”
In answer, I thread my fingers through his hair and let them slide down his cheek and neck, beginning to unfasten the muslin shirt he wears so well.
“No, you found me. And I trust you. I’m not letting you go ever again. Stay with me tonight, if you will. I want this… want you… all of it.”
Jon’s answer is to take me into his arms and hold me against him as if he’s done that so many times. I fit there, and it feels absolutely right.
“I’m still going to expect you to tell me this whole story when we’re back on your starship. But for now… I just don’t want to be alone.”
His green eyes are intense, full of equal parts need and concern as he reaches up to brush a fingertip across my cheek. It sends shivers, and more, throughout my whole body.
“Nor do I, Malcolm. Never again.”
__________________________________________________
AUTHOR: Mareel
FANDOM: Star Trek Enterprise
PAIRING: Jonathan Archer/Malcolm Reed
GENRE: Slash
PROMPT: ?. ?/?. Time Travel
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: 1432
SUMMARY: He seems so familiar.
WARNINGS: None
NOTES: This is a Western AU story which takes place sometime after Season 4 during an unspecified mission. Jonathan and Malcolm have a long-established relationship, and this is Malcolm's voice.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, but I promise to take good care of them.
The Stranger
Also at older_not_dead: __________________________________________________
There’s a stranger in town.
At least four people have come up to me with variations of “Marshall Reed, you know anything about that stranger? The one who’s been hanging ‘round the Last Drop Saloon, winning at cards and not answerin’ any questions?” Some of them add that while he’ll spend plenty of gold on buying rounds of drinks, he isn’t spreading the wealth among Miss Adelle’s ladies.
I finally decide I’d better see this mysterious gentleman for myself, But so long as he’s not making trouble, I’m inclined to leave him go about his business, whatever that is. Of course that wasn’t the case with the last stranger who passed through these parts, which is why I ended up here in the first place. So I understand the townsfolk being concerned, and grab my hat, making sure my badge is in plain sight.
The Last Drop is crowded for the middle of the afternoon, but the man they’re referring to is obvious. He’s decked out in pretty fancy gear… he didn’t buy that leather duster in these parts. And damn, he wears it well. Tall, lean but not skinny, long fingers wrapped around his whiskey glass as he picks up another shot to bring back to his corner table.
He’s not playing poker, not really conversing with anyone. It’s more like he’s looking for someone, his eyes studying everyone who comes in.
There’s something vaguely familiar about him. When his gaze turns to me and our eyes meet, I know I’ve seen him somewhere before. He gestures to the empty chair at his table, and I decide to take it. Maybe I’ll get some answers.
“Marshall Reed? Have a seat. Can I buy you a drink?”
“Just coffee, I’m on the job. And you have me at an advantage, sir. Your name is?”
“Archer. Jon Archer. Pleased to meet you.”
I had half-expected him to dissemble or evade my question entirely. And I’ve been lied to enough to be pretty damn sure that’s his real name.
“Are you sure you won’t have a beer at least? I hate to drink alone.”
I have no idea why I nod my agreement and find myself nursing a beer as I try to keep him talking. The feeling of familiarity has only grown stronger. How did he know I was a beer-drinker?
Beyond his name, though, he’s not particularly forthcoming about his origins or what business he has here. I do notice that he seldom takes his eyes off of me. Plenty of men keep an eye on me out of fear or respect for my badge, but this isn’t that. It’s like he’s appraising me… the man, not the Marshall.
Then he surprises me.
“Malcolm.”
Before I can ask him how he knows my given name, he’s continuing to talk, answering at least in part the question that he must have read in my eyes.
“It’s okay. I didn’t mean to startle you. But it’s complicated, how I know your name. Do you want to find out more about it? Maybe we could go somewhere more private to talk? I think we’ve spent enough time together here.”
Mutely, I nod, still dumbfounded but unwilling to deny his request. He has an aura of authority about him, one that when combined with his charm, is mighty attractive, though I could never admit that to anyone here for fear of losing not just my job, but my life.
“I know a place. Let’s go.” I finish the beer in a long gulp as he leaves a generous tip on the table. All eyes in the place follow me as I follow him out the door. “You have a horse?”
He nods toward a roan gelding at the hitching post outside the Last Drop. “Good. Ride out of town to the southwest. There’s a lone cabin down by the creek outside city limits. I’ll meet you there.” Almost as an afterthought, I add, “I’ll take another route.”
I’m not sure why I chose to use my small place on the edge of town rather than meeting with him in my office in the Courthouse. It just feels right, and odds are no one is going to bother us here.
When he arrives, we stable the horses in the rough barn. Once inside my cabin, his gaze takes in the spare simple furnishings, lingering on the neatly made bed. “You live alone here, Malcolm?”
“I do. I used to have a room upstairs at the saloon, but there was too much traffic there for a man to get a good night’s rest.”
“Ahh, and you weren’t interested in the services on offer? Some of those girls looked pretty good.”
I shake my head. “No need to lie to me. I’ve been told that you have no interest in them either, not in that way. I know you’re a stranger here, but you might want to reconsider that. People talk.”
He shakes his head and shrugs off his duster before seating himself on the edge of the bed, uninvited. “I’m not going to be here that long, Malcolm.”
I raise an eyebrow, willing him to continue.
“And neither are you, I hope. I’ve come to take you home, if you’ll trust me.”
Tossing my hat onto the table next to his, I sit down next to him, stunned at his words and his audacity. “Why the hell should I go anywhere with you? Granted, it does seem like I know you from somewhere, but I don’t know where or how… “
His eyes never leave mine as he slowly reaches for my hand, enfolding it in his. Nothing has ever felt so right… even if everything is wrong about it.
Jon’s voice is low, almost tender. “You do know me… very well. We’ve been together for many years.”
I look down at our joined hands and back up at him as he answers my unasked question.
“Yes, together in every way.”
After a long silence, he drops my hand and goes over to the doorway, peering out the small window before latching the door and drawing the tattered curtain over the pane. I get caught up in watching the way he moves, the way his jeans ride low on his hips… It’s distracting. Finally returning to the bed beside me, he takes a deep breath but doesn’t reach for my hand again.
His tone is serious. “I wasn’t sure how much you’d remember of your life before you arrived here. But you’re actually living in Earth’s past. This isn’t the Kansas of our time. You’re the tactical and security officer on a starship… and I’m its captain. You had a mission to complete here that required you to have a temporary memory blur from our physician. It will be restored when we get back to Enterprise tomorrow. If you’ll return with me.”
There is a trace of genuine uncertainty in his voice… that I might choose not to abandon this life for his starship… or for him. But he need not worry.
“I don’t remember anything about a starship, Jon. Or some parallel timeline or whatever this is. But I remember you… and I remember this…” Drawing his head to me, I touch my lips to his. He tastes like heaven… and always has.
He answers the kiss, which threatens to deepen into much more. But he draws back, catching his breath. “Are you sure about this, Malcolm? This will be your last night here, and I know what we’re about to do could get us both strung up. I can leave you alone here - safe - and come back for you in the morning.”
In answer, I thread my fingers through his hair and let them slide down his cheek and neck, beginning to unfasten the muslin shirt he wears so well.
“No, you found me. And I trust you. I’m not letting you go ever again. Stay with me tonight, if you will. I want this… want you… all of it.”
Jon’s answer is to take me into his arms and hold me against him as if he’s done that so many times. I fit there, and it feels absolutely right.
“I’m still going to expect you to tell me this whole story when we’re back on your starship. But for now… I just don’t want to be alone.”
His green eyes are intense, full of equal parts need and concern as he reaches up to brush a fingertip across my cheek. It sends shivers, and more, throughout my whole body.
“Nor do I, Malcolm. Never again.”
__________________________________________________