Gigi Sinclair

"Can I ask you something, Jon?"

"Of course." Jon glanced down at Malcolm. "You know we can talk about anything."

Malcolm still hesitated before continuing: "Your mother."

"Ah." Try as he might, Malcolm couldn't tell whether that was an embarrassed 'ah', a grief-stricken 'ah' or merely a few strands of Jon's chest hair caught in the ring Malcolm wore on his caressing left hand.

"You never talk about her. Is she…" Malcolm tried to think of a euphemism that wasn't twee or crass, and failed. "Dead?"

"Not in the way you mean, Malcolm."

"Oh." Malcolm blinked.

"I guess I should tell you."

Malcolm stiffened, coldness masking his hurt. "If you don't want to…"

"No, Malcolm." He shifted position until Malcolm's head was resting on his shoulder, then kissed him for good measure. "I want to tell you. I always have. It's just that…it's complicated. And I didn't know how you were going to react."

"How I was going to react?" Malcolm repeated, stupidly, which got him one of those knee-trembling smiles in return, so Malcolm didn't feel like a complete nitwit.

"There have been some people who don't take it all that well. Trip…he was pretty shocked when he found out."

"I'm not Trip." Something which, at first, had worried Malcolm. But, over the last two years, he'd finally grown to believe Jon when he said-repeatedly, and often without much patience-that he'd never wanted Trip.

"I know. And I trust you." Jon brushed a lock off hair from Malcolm's forehead. "My mom always felt like she was different." A feeling Malcolm knew only too well. "Really different. She figured that if she had a normal life, the feelings would go away. So she went to university, got a pile of engineering degrees. She married my dad and they had me. For a while, it was great. Mom, Dad, me. We read poetry together. Then she joined Starfleet, and she wasn't around much, but she always sent me the coolest stuff from wherever she was stationed."

Malcolm's father had never sent him anything, even at Christmas, but this wasn't the moment to mention that.

"So what happened to her?"

"I'm getting there." Jon kissed him again, and Malcolm's heart, which had been a puddle of goo since the first time they'd met, melted a little further. "She loved Starfleet, but she still wasn't happy. All that stuff that she thought would make her feel normal just made her feel even more out of place." Jon's expression changed, and Malcolm squeezed his hand. Clearly, it took a lot for him to talk about this, even with Malcolm.

Malcolm waited for him to go on, and he did. "I was twenty-two when my dad died. She came back for the funeral and…told me."

A thought struck Malcolm. "Is she gay?" Although he couldn't see Jon being reluctant to talk about it if that was all it was. It would be a coincidence, but Malcolm knew gay parents had as much chance of having gay children as straight parents did. He smirked a little at the thought of finally bringing Jon home to meet Stuart and Mary Reed, and introducing them to their new, all-female, in-laws at the same time.

"It's a little more than that. She told me that, even when she was a kid, she'd always felt like she was in the wrong body. Like she should have been born a man. Three months later, she had sex reassignment surgery."

Malcolm tried desperately not to look the least bit surprised by this revelation. "Oh. How interesting."

"It's OK to be a little shocked, Malcolm."

"It's not shocking." It wasn't, really. But it wasn't what he'd expected to learn when he'd embarked on this conversation. "Was it very difficult for her?"

"It was difficult for me. Can you imagine teaching your mother how to shave?" Jon smiled. "But it was what he needed to do. And he's still my mother."

"How did Starfleet take it?" They weren't the most open-minded of military organizations, Malcolm knew.

"It was awkward. He was still the same person, but a lot of the shipmates who'd known him as Margaret didn't want to work with him in his new body. There would have been a huge scandal if they'd fired him, of course, so they promoted him just to get him out of the way. Which was good, in the long run, because we ended up working together on the NX program, and we finally managed to get Dad's engine into a real ship."

The penny dropped, and Malcolm couldn't help it. "Oh my God."

Jon grinned. "So I guess we can tell him now, huh?"

"I guess." Malcolm tried to get his head around it. "But what about the regulations?"

"He won't mind bending them for me." Switching off the light, Jon snuggled down, pulling Malcolm with him. "He's always saying I should find a nice man and settle down." Malcolm settled himself at Jon's side, as Jon gave him a final, good-night kiss.

After a pause, Jon said, sounding a little nervous: "Are you really OK with it, Malcolm? I mean, it's not too weird for you, is it?"

Malcolm didn't hesitate. "I love you, Jon. And your family's weirdness can't possibly compare to mine." At least, Malcolm thought, Jon and his mother loved each other. "And I'm sure…"

"You can call him Maxwell."

"Maxwell and my father will get along famously." After all, they at least had rank in common.

"I'm so lucky to have you, Malcolm."

As Jon fell asleep, Malcolm thought that he was the lucky one. He must have done something right to end up as Jonathan Archer's lover. And Maxwell Forrest's son-in-law.