Okay, here's the totally un-beta-ed prologue of what will hopefully turn into a longer story. It's an Archer and Trip friendship story that takes place after "Bound". PG-13.
Carnival
Trip made his way through a crowd of Andorians, taking in the smell of fried alien pastries and the sounds of barkers that wanted the two pinkskins to try their luck at a various games of skill or, one case, learn what the most beautiful Andorian women in the world looked like naked. As he took in all the sights, smells and sounds, Trip saw a juggler catch a ball with his antenna, a scantily clad female scale a wall of ice and a a pair of wire walkers dance over a pit of white fire. There were also rides, one resembling a roller coaster, and another resembling a carousel, only with ferocious, three-eyed sea creatures instead of horses. Whatever the Andorian name for it, Trip recognized a carnival when he saw one.
“So, Captain, why exactly did you need an engineer on this particular mission?” asked Trip as Archer handed him an Andorian delicacy of some kind purchased from one of the many curvaceous blue-skinned women selling treats.
“I didn’t need an engineer, I needed you. I never got a chance to welcome you back,” said Archer casually.
Despite the nonchalance, Trip recognized a hint of emotion in his voice. Trip sighed, and he smiled just a slightly. Archer hadn’t said anything since he returned from Columbia, almost acting like he’d never been gone. “I missed you, too,” Trip replied, “I didn’t realize how much of a home Enterprise was until…”
Archer glanced at him. “Well, you’re back. That’s what matters.”
Trip nodded. Over and done, that conversation. Even though he and Jon had lost some of the closeness they had once had, they still worked together well enough that they could each predict one another’s actions and needs. There was no substitution for that.
Just then, they passed a small, plain booth, which was distinguished by its non-Andorian but decidedly alien barker, a squat fellow with round ears and big, black eyes.
“Step right up,” he said, “and learn the secrets of your other selves.”
Trip saw the captain’s mouth turn up slightly, his curiosity peaked. “What do you mean?” asked Jon.
The barker waddled toward them, looking up at them with great earnestness. “Well, my friends. As you know, our universe is just one of an infinite number of universes which make up the multiverse.” As he said this, he made a fluidly dramatic gesture with his short arm and pudgy hand. “Every decision, ever choice, ever possibility splits into a different universe. There are an infinite number of worlds in which you might or might not exist. If you do exist, your life might be very different,” he paused dramatically, “Wouldn’t you be curious to know what might have been, had the dice rolled differently for you?”
Archer and Trip were both silent. Archer folded his arms, but he had a look of mischief.
The barker continued. “If you step into my booth, I can let you inhabit the body of your other self for a short time. You will get a glimpse of the road not taken.”
“Schroediger’s cat,” said Archer absently, as he stared at a primitive, bubble-like illustration of the concept of a multiverse, which decorated the outside of the booth.
Trip shook his head and laughed. Respectable physicists had long ago abandoned such an absurd notion, leaving the idea of other universes to science fiction writers. But then again, those physicists also said time travel was impossible, and he and Archer both knew better than that.
Archer put his hand in his pocket and tossed some local currency at the barker.
“We’ll take two tickets,” said Archer.
The barker smiled broadly, showing jagged teeth, and beckoned them behind a curtain as he examined the currency. “This will get you two hours.”
Inside the booth were several humanoid-sized tubes that resembled imagining chambers, though they had wooden accents and mosaic tiles on the outside.
Archer had a twinkle in his eye. He leaned over and whispered into Trip’s ear. “You’re going to have to help me figure out how they do whatever trick they are about to do.”
Trip grinned and nodded before climbing into one of the chambers. He remembered once when he was a kid, he’d gone to a carnival that had used primitive holograms to convince him that he was in a haunted house. He guessed that a combination of sensory depravation, holography and suggestion was behind the trick he was about to experience.
“Just a few ground rules,” said the barker ominously, “Don’t talk much. Everyone will think you are the other you. And the other you will remember everything you say and do, as if they dreamed it. It’s best just to try and go with the flow, as it were.”
Archer jumped into his own imaging chamber. “Are we going to the same universe?” he asked playfully, “So, if I see Trip, can I say hi?”
The barker paused. “Yes,” he said as he tapped into his controls, “I’m sending you to the nearest universe to this one in which you both exist. Although there’s no guarantee you even know each other.”
Trip relaxed onto his back, as the chamber closed. He chuckled, and this felt like some of the small adventures he and Archer had shared when they were in training.
“Close your eyes and count to ten,” came the barker’s voice, echoing through the chamber.
Trip obeyed, and when he reached ten, he felt a peculiar tightness in his face. He opened his eyes, or rather one eye. His other eye was fused shut. An unfamiliar bulkhead came into focus. He reached up and gingerly felt the shut eye with his fingers. Scar tissue, he thought.
Note: I seriously didn't want to do something as obvious as the MU, but plot bunnies have a way of getting away from you.
If this continues, it's going to involve Archer/Sato and TnT.
Just write it--the whole idea is that we want more fic!
I'm so into this now and there isn't any more yet!! 
