Gigi Sinclair

Trip knew pain. As a kid, he'd frequently fallen out of his cousin's treehouse, and the bones he hadn't broken that way got their turn during his short-lived stint as a high school running back. In Australia, a scorpion had stung him in the ass (a story he didn't care for himself, but which Jon always told at parties,) since going into Engineering, he'd hit his head on various machines so often, he had a permanent lump, and he'd spilled so much hot coffee in his lap he'd eventually switched to iced tea.

All of that paled in comparison to the agony he suffered at the hands of a diminutive Vietnamese woman named Kim.

"Yes, yes." Kim smiled, as unsympathetic as any other professional torturer who loved her job. "One more time and you be all nice and smooth for Mr. Loverboy, yes?"

Trip nodded and gripped the metal railing as Kim yanked the last wax strip off his chest.

Mr. Loverboy, aka Jonathan Archer, was the reason he was doing this, he reminded himself, as twenty years' worth of hair growth was torn out by the roots. Jon, who had been stressed out for months, and was only getting worse the closer they got to 'Enterprise's' launch date.

Trip could understand that. The captaincy of 'Enterprise' was a huge responsibility, and Jon only increased his burden by insisting on being involved in every detail of the ship's construction, from the engine calibrations and the crew roster to the colour of the tiles in the crewmen's communal bathrooms. But that was Jon's way, and Trip understood it, as well. What Trip didn't get, at first, was why Jon seemed to be even more stressed now they'd learned Trip had been given the job of chief engineer.

Trip got his explanation a few days after he got the job. After a particularly satisfying-to Trip, anyway-bout of lovemaking, Jon had turned over and said: "When we're on 'Enterprise', we'll have to tone it down a little."

"You want to stop having sex?" Trip would have been less incredulous if Jon had suggested going the entire voyage without eating.

"Not for the whole time," Jon reassured him. "Just for the first few months. Anyway, it's not like this"—he indicated the two of them-"Is just about that."

No. Trip's relationship with Jon wasn't just about sex, but then life wasn't just about breathing, either. It was still an integral part of the overall experience, and Trip didn't know why Jon would want to give it up.

Then it dawned on him. They'd been together for eight years. Clearly, Jon was getting bored with him. Being Jon, he would never come out and say it, but he would, apparently, look for any semi-plausible excuse to break things off, even temporarily.

And there was no way Trip was going to let that happen.

So he started working out. Barely a month after the comment about toning it down, Jon complimented Trip on his rapidly developing physique. That was all Trip needed to implement Phase Two of his self-improvement plan.

One Saturday, while Jon was, of course, at work, Trip hit the salon. They put highlights in his usually mousy brown hair, shaved off the moustache he'd been cultivating for the past year and, most painful of all, waxed his normally very hirsute chest. Looking into the ivy-leaf-stencilled mirror at Kim's workstation, Trip barely recognized himself. Which meant he'd accomplished his goal.

When he got to Jon's apartment, Trip used his key to let himself in. Porthos, who had come running at the sound of the opening door, stopped when he saw Trip and looked up uncertainly, as if he wasn't sure whether to bark or wag his tail. He finally settled on both, earning a "Quiet, Porthos" from the general direction of Jon's office.

Smiling, Trip took off his jacket and followed the sound of Jon's voice. Jon was sitting with his back to the door, pouring over yet another set of specs. Coming up behind him, Trip put his arms around the newly promoted Captain Archer and said,

"Guess who?"

The pain of the waxing and the general humiliation of being the only man in the salon disappeared as Jon turned in his chair and cast an unashamedly appreciative eye over Trip.

"Look at you."

"Do you like it?" Trip suspected he did, but it was still nice to hear the words.

"I'll say. You look great." 'Enterprise' forgotten, at least for the moment, Jon pulled Trip onto his lap. "What's the occasion?"

"Time for a change." And better, Trip thought, to change himself than to be exchanged for someone else. They had already met a few members of the senior staff, and Trip hadn't liked the looks that had passed between Jon and that snotty English guy. Or between Jon and that snotty Vulcan woman.

Grabbing Trip's collar, Jon brought him in for a kiss while his free hand snaked under Trip's shirt. Trip winced involuntarily as Jon touched his chest, and Jon's hand stopped, his eyebrows furrowing.

"What…" The hand turned from caressing to inquisitive. Finally, Jon lifted Trip's shirt and stared at the bald expanse beneath it. "What happened to your chest?"

"I had it waxed." Trip looked at him. "Don't you like it?"

"It's…" Jon hesitated, then continued, with a diplomacy so obvious Trip immediately knew why he'd been put in charge of the mission. "Different. That must have been really painful."

Trip smiled at the understatement. "I'm tough."

"I know." Jon's eyes came up to meet Trip's. "Why did you do it?"

Trip sighed and stood up. "Because you were getting bored with me and I didn't want to lose you."

"Bored with you?" Jon repeated, blinking. "Why would you think that?"

Trip repeated what Jon had said about "toning it down" for the first part of their mission.

"Not because I'm bored with you," Jon corrected quickly, almost desperately. "Because I can't afford to be distracted out there, even when I'm off-duty. And you're a major distraction."

"Even after eight years?"

Jon smiled. "Now more than ever." He stood up as well, reaching out a hand to touch Trip's newly highlighted hair. "You look good, but I liked the way you looked before." He pulled Trip closer. "And I love your chest hair. It's nice and cozy. This…" He ran a hand over Trip's chest. "Is like petting a hairless cat."

Trip laughed. "I'm sorry, Jon." Although not as sorry as he was when he remembered not only the wretched agony of getting the hair removed, but the not insubstantial amount he'd paid Kim to do it.

"No, I'm sorry. For making you think I could love you any more than I already do."

Trip couldn't have stopped himself if he'd wanted to. When they finally broke the kiss, both men were out of breath. Jon hugged Trip tightly, rubbing his back and ignoring his still-stinging chest. Just as Trip was thinking things couldn't possibly get any better Jon said, a little hesitantly:

"Trip, you know I'd love you no matter how you looked."

"Right." He did, now.

"But I don't…I wouldn't be entirely devastated if the moustache didn't make a comeback."

Trip grinned. "Aye aye, Captain."