Gigi Sinclair

"It's only water." Jon flicked a handful of it up at the boat to prove it.

Trip wasn't convinced. He looked down at the water, which turned from clear, aquamarine blue to darker blue to black before becoming too deep to be visible. "I know that. But there's a lot of it."

"You swim all the time, Trip."

"In pools."

"And the ocean."

"Just the shallow parts."

"Trip." Still treading water, Jon held up his arms to Trip. "Come on. You can trust me." Trusting Jon wasn't the issue, Trip thought, as he sat on the edge of the boat. He trusted Jon implicitly. He didn't, however, have much confidence in the ocean.

"You OK, mate?" The boat operator asked, as he hauled the oxygen tank onto Trip's back.

"Sure." Trip had worked with scuba gear before, in the training tank at the Starfleet complex. This was just like that, Trip told himself as he positioned his mouthpiece. Except for the undertow, the sharks and the box jellyfish. "It's only water."

Trip rolled off the boat and hit the water with a splash. Immediately, he felt Jon's hands on him, helping to get his head back above the surface.

"I know you can do it." Jon grinned.

"Glad one of us thinks so."

Jon put the piece of plastic into his mouth and pulled his goggles over his eyes. Then he tugged on Trip's hand and dragged him down.

Jon was the only one who'd wanted to visit the Great Barrier Reef before they went back to the States. After ten days of survival training in the Australian outback, Trip would have been more than happy to spend their last two days in the country exploring the bars and clubs of Sydney, but Jon had other ideas.

After more than a century of being off-limits to humans for environmental reasons, the Great Barrier Reef had recently reopened for what they called "eco-tourism," and of course, Jon managed to find one of the few tour groups authorized to take eco-tourists out to the reef.

Trip was less than enthusiastic about the expedition, just as he had been less than enthusiastic about every aspect of being in Australia. It had started when he'd run into a spider the size of his foot in the hotel shower their first night in, and it had been going steadily downhill ever since. But, as Trip repeatedly reminded himself, he loved Jon. Jon was his best friend. And Jon had done a lot of things he didn't want to do because Trip enjoyed them, including sitting through countless Florida Marlins games and posing for approximately forty thousand photographs since they'd first met nearly six years ago. Trip owed him.

Trip didn't realize he had his eyes squeezed shut until he felt Jon pull on his arm. When he opened his eyes, Trip saw a school of brightly coloured fish directly in front of him, practically glowing in the beams of sunlight that filtered down through the water. Trip turned to watch as they passed, and his gaze fell on the reef itself, a mass of pink coral alive with hundreds of living creatures.

It was by far the most amazing sight Trip had seen. He started with surprise as an orange fish—a clownfish, Trip knew from watching classic movies like "Finding Nemo" and "Goldie Returns" with his nieces and nephews—flitted past, close enough to brush Trip's hand.

Trip looked at Jon, who was staring at the reef, equally transfixed. Smiling around his mouthpiece, Trip reached over and squeezed Jon's shoulder. Jon glanced over, awe in his eyes, and Trip was nearly overwhelmed by the sensation of love that washed over him.

***

"It's only water."

That was what Trip had told Travis as they piloted the ship into Xindi territory. Only water. So what if the water just happened to be the home of the monsters that had killed seven million people, including his sister. So what if Jon was going to die trying to prevent even more deaths. It was only water.

"Trip." Trip looked up from his engines to see Jon standing beside him. Not Jon, he corrected himself; the captain. The man who had to do what no one else could. The man who saw it as not only his duty, but his privilege to sacrifice himself for his ship and his planet.

"It's only water," Trip replied, weakly.

Jon nodded and in an instant, the difficulties of the last few years floated away. Trip saw the man he had first fallen in love with, the man who had bought him a drink after he'd defended Henry Archer to the Vulcans, the man who'd always believed Trip was the best engineer in Starfleet. The man who'd suffered through Florida Marlins games and excited discussions about engineering developments out of love for Trip, the man who'd put up with Trip's bitching the whole time they were in Australia. The man who'd taken him to the Great Barrier Reef.

Jon put his arms around Trip, and Trip hugged him back. When Trip finally pulled away, Jon kissed him on the forehead and left.

A moment later, Lieutenant Hess came in. Trip looked away quickly, swiping his hand over his damp eyes.

"You OK, sir?" Hess asked, concerned.

"Fine," he answered, discreetly rubbing at his eye when the quick wipe didn't quite do the trick.

"Is there something in your eye?" She was already reaching for the first aid bottle.

He stopped her before she could assault him with the eyewash. "It's only water." And there was nothing she could do about that.