"Oh, I take back every unkind thought I've ever had. You are a bloody genius and you have the most talented hands in the universe."

"Aw, hey now. You're gonna make me blush," Trip's tone was light and teasing, but his hands as they kneaded the muscles in my legs were firm and confident. I felt as if I'd melted and soaked into the bed, while at the same time, I was weightless and fancied that the slightest breeze could carry me away with it.

After our impromptu ride on the beach, the muscles in my legs had protested and Trip had half carried, half dragged me back to the shelter, placed me in the middle of our inflatable mattress and started massaging my overtaxed muscles. The massage was mostly over with now and Trip had progressed to licking and biting me in between the long strokes of his hands down my legs.

"Now, none of that, my impatient spouse," Trip scolded, as I began trying to hump his face with my ass.

I flopped back down on the bed and rolled onto my back. Trip stretched out on top of me and began nibbling and sucking at my neck. He has this fascination with oral activities, from kissing to eating to, well, sucking. Since we've been together, I don't think I've gone more than a day or two without a fresh hickey somewhere on my body. I smiled and shook my head as Trip finished up and drew back to admire his handiwork.

"What's so funny?" Trip sounded a little peeved.

"I was just thinking how lucky I am to have you. Do you have you any idea just how much I love you?"

"Oh, probably 'bout as much as I love you. I know I don't tell you as often as I oughta." He began pressing kisses as soft as butterfly wings all over my face. I can't recall ever feeling so cherished, until I met this man.

"It comes through loud and clear, love." I can't keep my hands off him. I don't recall how I managed it before we got together. My fingers itched to play with his hair, caress his face. "You're the jam on my toast."

"I'm the what?" Trip chuckled. "Can I be the peanut butter on your pancakes instead?"

I laughed in delight. "You are the best, most amazing thing that has ever happened to me," I explained. "I think perhaps you're my reward for surviving the disaster area that was my life before I met you."

Trip just smiled, pulled me in close, and proceeded to kiss me senseless. Later, he showed me a few of his ideas for keeping me amused.

We were eating breakfast the next morning when Trip unexpectedly cursed and smacked himself on the forehead.

"Damn. I forgot to tell ya. I sent that message to my parents about the wedding and I got a call back from them just before we left." Trip was excited and happy. "Momma can't wait to meet you. I sent them some pictures, but ya know us Tuckers, we're a touchy-feelie bunch, and she won't be satisfied until she hugs the stuffing out of ya a couple dozen times. And my daddy, he can't wait to show off his gun collection and take you out target shooting with some of his antiques. And I'm looking forward to showing you where I grew up. That tree house I told you about, I think it's still there." Trip was so excited, he barely noticed I'd stopped eating.

"Malcolm? You okay?" Trip put his hand on mine, then looked at me in confusion when I pulled away from him. "What's wrong?"

I slunk outside and propped myself up against a nearby tree. I knew Trip had followed when he wrapped his arms around me from behind. I shifted my weight to lean on him and allowed my head to drop back onto his shoulder. We stood in silence for awhile, watching the waves break on the shore.

"I sent my family a message as well. Bloody stupid, that." I paused. "Maddie sent us her best wishes. She's looking forward to meeting you. Although I daresay you shouldn't expect her to 'hug the stuffing' out of you." A weary smile flitted across my face.

Trip's hand on my belly was rubbing in a slow, circular caress. Gentle. Comforting.

"Maddie heard from Mum; at least she was happy for us. There should be a message waiting when we get back to Enterprise." I sighed wearily. "My father, however, is a different story. I don't know. I suppose I thought maybe, after all this time..." My voice cracked, and I stopped. "He hasn't changed. I don't suppose I really expected him to, but..." The sound of my hand hitting the tree trunk reverberated like a gunshot.

"I'm so sorry, Malcolm. You know I'd fix it for you, if I could."

"I'll always hope, what else can I do? He's my father. However big of a bastard he can be, he is still my father."

"Let's hope he realizes that." Trip stood behind me. Solid and supportive.

"Why is nothing I do ever good enough? Why can't he just love me? Just for being? Why?" My wet cheeks glistened in the morning sun.

"Oh, Mal. Your daddy's a damn fool. You are the most lovable person in the universe. C'mere." Trip turned me toward his chest and cradled me in his arms, crooning soft reassurances in my ear. I clung to him and cried as I hadn't since I was a very small child. Healing tears, for both the child that was and the man he'd become. When my emotional whirlwind subsided, I felt wrung out, but oddly centered. Incredibly, I found I was neither ashamed of nor embarrassed by my outburst.

"Better?" I was still clasped to Trip's chest, one of his hands stroking my hair.

"Yes. I'm fine." My stock answer, but this time it actually rang true.

"Good." Trip gave me a final squeeze, then smacked my butt lightly as he released me. "So whaddya say we work on that 'tanned, rested and ready' stipulation the Cap'n attached to our little 'holiday at the seaside'?" His attempt to mimic my accent was ludicrous, but it achieved the desired result.

A genuine smile spread over my face. The effect this man had on me was nothing short of miraculous. Physically, I could take him out in a heartbeat, but in the emotional arena, he was clearly the master. Just as I trained with him in the gym, helping him strengthen his defenses, I realized with sudden clarity how all this time he'd been surreptitiously doing the same with me, guiding and supporting me as I flailed about in my emotional morass, leading me out of myself, changing my perception of reality.

I was momentarily rocked by the realization that, although I'd joked about avoiding another near-death experience, the emotional rebirth I was undergoing with his assistance was even more shattering, because it had been accomplished largely without my conscious awareness. Who knew the man could do subtle?

"Whatever you have in mind would be perfect, love."

And it would. Together, we'd already survived countless hostile aliens, certain death, Trip's wardrobe and my own inner demons. A honeymoon holiday at the seaside? No problem.