There was a card propped against his pillow.Jonathan Archer stopped in the doorway and frowned. He tried to think of who could get into his quarters and leave him a card. He shrugged when he realized there were lots of people who could--most of whom worked in engineering or the armory. So, why did they leave him a card?
Crossing the room, he picked the card up and pulled it out of the unsealed envelope. On the front of the card was a picture of Porthos, sitting in the captain's chair on the bridge. Inside was written "Happy Father's Day," with a paw print underneath.
"Okay, Porthos, who is your co-conspirator? Trip?" Jon asked his beagle as he walked over to the dog bed and scratched the beagle's ears. "Thank you for my card."
Porthos preened under his touch, then barked happily as he caught sight of someone behind Jon, thumping his tail in greeting. Jon turned and smiled at the sight of an out of uniform Malcolm Reed standing in the doorway to Jon's lavatory.
"I'm afraid I'm Porthos' co-conspirator. Though Trip did take the picture. I thought you might appreciate the sentiment."
Jon smiled. "I've never gotten a Father's Day card before."
"Well, you are his father, Jon." Something in the gray eyes let Jon know there was more to the card than just Porthos celebrating Father's Day.
"He has another father, Malcolm." Would the reserved British man catch Jon's meaning?
Malcolm smiled as he crossed the room to rub Porthos' ears. "Ah, but that father is back on Earth, probably with another litter chasing him. Porthos may or may not remember him, but he loves you, Jon." The beagle's tail thumped in seeming agreement.
Jon pulled Malcolm close. "I wasn't talked about his biological father, Malcolm." He trailed a finger down his lover's cheek. "I was talking about you."
Malcolm gave a soft laugh. "I'm hardly here enough to be a father, Jon. By my own choice," he added.
"I know that." And Jon knew there was more behind that statement than just his reluctance to be seen as the captain's lover. Malcolm earned his place on Enterprise long before Jon ever met him, and earned it twice over before they had first kissed. Yet there were some people who would only see Malcolm in Jon's bed, and assume his job was a direct result of how well he gave blowjobs.
Of course, Jon would be the first to admit that Malcolm was fantastic at blowjobs, and other things in the bedroom. But Malcolm would be Enterprise's armory officer even if he never said more than "Torpedoes ready, Captain," to Jon.
No, this has more to do with his father. "You're not him, Malcolm. You don't expect Porthos to join the Royal Navy come hell or high water."
That earns him a smile. "I don't think Porthos fits the height requirements."
Jon laughed, and Porthos barked at the sound. "No, but that's not the point."
"What is the point then?"
"The point is that I love you." He kissed Malcolm lightly. "And Porthos loves you, otherwise he never would have sat still long enough in that chair for Trip to take a picture."
"I bribed him with cheddar," Malcolm admitted sheepishly.
"And he loves you for it."
"I love you." The words were so soft that Jon wasn't even sure he'd heard them. Rather than reply, he pulled Malcolm to him, kissing his temple lightly.
"Porthos needs two parents full time, don't you think?"
"Jon--"
A kiss cut off Malcolm's protests. "To hell with what others think. I think we need to do what's best for Porthos." Jon's green eyes revealed more than just concern for the beagle's emotional well-being.
"Well, if it will make Porthos feel more secure..." Malcolm's voice trailed off, but he smiled as he said it, letting Jon know that he understood what the older man was really asking.
"The things we do to make our children happy, hm?"
Malcolm shook his head. "The things we do because we love someone," he replied.
Jon smiled and kissed him. Porthos thumped his tail at the two men, happy that both would be living in his quarters now.
Especially since Malcolm understood the strategic value of cheddar.