Chapter Title: A Boring Day
Author: Pretzelduck
Disclaimer: I don't own the Star Trek franchise. I just play in its sandbox every once in a while.
AN: My apologies for the great deal of time between this chapter and the last one. I got hit with the double whammy of college papers and writer's block at the same time. I promise to do better.
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"Bloody hell, is this day over with yet?"
Malcolm Reed quickly glanced around the mess hall, realizing that he'd muttered the sentiment a little louder than he would have liked. It wasn't that it was a difficult day; it was rather the opposite. The Enterprise had made contact with a fairly friendly species, the Turanians. There was an away mission planned for their capital city tomorrow. Apparently, today was some sort of religious observance so they couldn't come down until the day had passed. Normally, he would have been delighted. Extra time between contact and mission would allow him to better ascertain any foreseeable security problems and develop solutions. But all of his careful scanning had proven to be pointless. The Turanians appeared to be at a slightly lower technological level. While they were capable of space flight, warp drive was in its infant stages. Which meant no new tactical advances to spark inspiration for him and the armory team.
It all went downhill from there. For once, when he would have appreciated something to do besides busy work, the targeting scanners appeared to be holding their alignments and the phase cannons were in satisfactory form. And all of his paperwork was neatly finished and turned in. As the man responsible for the safety of the ship, Lt. Reed was quite pleased at the fact that everything seemed to be working. It meant if the Turanians did have any tricks up their sleeves, Enterprise would be ready. Malcolm, on the other hand, had been rather bored. If a day the ship met up with a new species could be considered boring.
This had pretty much resulted in what he was looking at now. A plate of mashed potatoes and a beef patty that resembled the bland food he had been served as a boy at boarding school. Not that Chef's cooking wasn't delicious but after eating nothing but literally meat and potatoes for years, Malcolm preferred to avoid it if possible. But everything about today had been so routine that he hadn't even blinked when he entered the mess hall for dinner. He'd simply grabbed a plate, found an empty table. So here he was. Sitting alone eating a meal that tasted flavorless to him. Just like at school.
'That's it,' he thought to himself. 'Enough moping out of boredom. Think happy thoughts.' The image of a face with a pair of twinkling green eyes and a lazy grin floated through his mind. A soft smile appeared on Malcolm's face as he scooped a bite of potatoes onto his spoon. Oddly enough, he didn't even notice the taste. Or lack there of.
*****
"Lemme get this straight, Cap'n. You want me to keep Malcolm occupied in the mess hall?"
Trip Tucker was looking at his best friend like the man had grown a second head. They were standing in Jon's quarters. Or at least he was. Jon, on the other hand, had taken up pacing back and forth across the cramped space. Whatever was going on in his mind was making his friend as nervous as all hell.
"That's right. In the mess hall. Or in Engineering…or in the Armory. Just keep him away from his quarters." Jon stopped in the middle of his eighteenth trip across the width of his quarters. "Maybe not the Armory. I actually want to see him some time tonight." And then, he started pacing again.
Watching the captain walk back and forth, Trip was now twice as curious about what he was up to. Jon had filled him in on his newfound relationship with Malcolm. It seemed to make him happy. Not that it wasn't obvious, though. When Jon had gotten to the part where he'd admitted to sleeping last night in Malcolm's quarters, his face had lit up in a grin so bright it probably had enough energy to power the warp drive for at least a year. His first thought had been, 'I wonder if Malcolm looks that.' In all honesty, Trip was worried. Malcolm was incredibly aloof and wasn't all that good at expressing emotions beyond frustration and annoyance. He hoped he actually would let Jon in past those barriers of his. The last thing he wanted to do was help Jonny pick up the pieces of his broken heart somewhere down the line. But if they had spent the night together…
"And what exactly will you be doin' while I'm keepin' Malcolm's attention?"
With that, Trip watched in surprise as his friend's cheeks turned redder than he'd ever seen before. And to top that, he had actually stopped pacing. "Malcolm and I have a date tonight…"
The engineer rolled his eyes. "I know that, Cap'n. What's a date hafta do with makin' sure Malcolm stays out of his quarters for a while?"
"I want him to stay out of his quarters for more than a little while. As in, until tomorrow."
Trip couldn't help snickering as he finally understood the redness of Jon's cheeks. "Got somethin' special planned I take it…"
It was Jon's turn to roll his eyes as he looked at his friend. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Trip." A little smile at the corner of his mouth gave him away as Trip started to laugh outright. "Okay, it's not just that. It's that…I want Malcolm to be…comfortable here. And you know how he is about his appearance…"
An image of Malcolm, a razor, and a shuttlepod popped up in Trip's mind. 'What was it Malcolm said…something 'bout an officer always looking his best…' "I gotcha now, Cap'n. I keep Malcolm occupied while you make sure he's got one less excuse to spend the night."
A random thought occurred to Trip. "Is this why you called off dinner tonight?"
Jon just smiled in response.
*****
When Trip entered the mess hall, he knew exactly what he was looking for. A dark-haired figure sitting alone, barely touching his food, surrounded by his work as if he couldn't afford to stop and just eat for a change.
Well, two out of three wasn't bad.
Malcolm was sitting in the corner and picking at his food. What caught Trip's attention, however, was the dreamy smile on Malcolm's face. And the total absence of his typical meal-time companion. A PADD. Grabbing a tray of meat and potatoes, Trip walked over and stood next to his friend.
"Earth to Malcolm. Come in, Malcolm."
The sound of Trip's voice startled Malcolm. He hadn't even noticed his approach. Simply unacceptable for an armory officer. "Good evening, Commander."
There were times that Malcolm's never lapsing sense of propriety bothered him. But tonight, Trip saw it for exactly what it was. A simple defense mechanism against being caught daydreaming. With an inward chuckle, he took the seat across from Malcolm and started in on his mashed potatoes.
Malcolm watched the engineer sit down and found himself grateful for the company. It wasn't often that he would prefer to eat with someone else and he was somewhat pleased that the commander had decided to eat with him. After all, he did owe him a great deal and this would be the perfect opportunity to say thank you. But how to broach the subject?
"How has your day been, sir?"
The words almost caused Trip to choke on the bite of meat he was chewing. Small talk? From Malcolm Reed? He'd been sitting here trying to figure out how to keep Malcolm occupied like Jon had asked him to but with no work to discuss, it made things difficult. At least Malcolm had addressed him as 'sir.' It kept his equilibrium from going too helter-skelter.
"All right, I guess. What 'bout you?"
Malcolm just shook his head. "Rather dull, I must say."
That was definitely an answer Trip didn't expect. "Dull? We made first contact with another race today and yur shift was dull?"
Perfect. Malcolm kept the smile off his face the best he could. Trip had just given him the perfect opening for mentioning what he wanted to discuss. It's not that he didn't like or trust the engineer. The fact remained that he wasn't all that comfortable with turning his personal life into a topic of mess hall dinner conversation.
"I suppose 'dull' would be incorrect. It's just that I had other things on my mind."
A wide knowing grin made its way across Trip's face. If the Enterprise's very own paranoid caution-freak was a bit preoccupied by what he hoped were thoughts of the captain, then perhaps there was nothing to worry about. He recalled the incident last night in the armory when Malcolm had spaced out while they were discussing the weapons systems. The night when Jon and Malcolm had had their first real date.
Using a quieter voice than he usually did, Trip decided to make sure that he and Malcolm were on the same wavelength. "Other things bein' a certain cap'n, perhaps?"
Much to Trip's surprise, Malcolm just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. It wasn't that mildly detached curl of his lips that the engineer was so familiar with but instead, the smile was warm and friendly. "Perhaps."
Then, all the amusement drained from Malcolm's face and voice. "I find myself in your debt, Trip."
The Southerner wasn't sure what confused him more. The statement or the fact that Malcolm had referred to him by his name, instead of his rank. It wasn't the first time he had called him 'Trip' but the times were far enough between to make each time significant.
"Mah debt?"
A light blush worked its way across Malcolm's cheeks. "I'm aware of your actions last night, informing J…the captain of my whereabouts. I merely wanted…to say…thank you."
Trip took another bite of his potatoes. This wasn't the emotionally subdued lieutenant he knew. Or the melancholy pessimist he'd dealt with on that shuttlepod. Malcolm was his friend but there was something just a bit more approachable about the man he was speaking to now. "You're both mah friends. It's the least I could I do, Malcolm."
"Well, I appreciate it nonetheless." Malcolm's face became serious once more. "Anytime you need something, Trip, just ask."
It was more than obvious to Trip that Malcolm was incredibly serious about his request. He simply nodded, hoping the Brit understood that he got the meaning behind his words. It appeared that it wasn't going to be as difficult to keep Malcolm out of his quarters as he thought. "I've already gotten details from the cap'n. Got anything to add to mah collection?"
For a moment, it occurred to Malcolm to simply say that he didn't and end the conversation. He was finished with his meal and he still needed to see Dr. Phlox. The last thing he wanted was to have an allergy attack because of Porthos. But something stopped him. Something told him that it would be all right to talk to Trip. He revealed a great deal to him when he thought he was going to die. What would be wrong in being open when he knew he was going to live?
Much to Trip's relief and amazement, Malcolm added something that Jon hadn't told him about. "Are you aware that he pushed me out of my own bed this morning?"
With a snort, Trip started to laugh. "I don't want to know how you two managed that one."
"I don't know, either. I woke up on the floor, tangled in the sheet, and with a sore arse."
The image of a sleepy, pissed-off Malcolm just made Trip laugh even harder. "I think it's dangerous for you to be sleeping when the cap'n is around."
"I take it he told you about my falling asleep in the middle of our dinner."
"Dinner? From what I heard, you two didn't eat a thing."
"True."
The pair ate in companionable silence for a few moments, as Malcolm finished off what was left of his dinner. "Speaking of dinner though, as much as I'm enjoying our conversation, I've finished mine and I do have other things to do this evening."
Trip was instantly worried. He had no idea how long Jon was going to be "running his errands." If Malcolm went to his quarters and found Jon snooping around…
"Now, I know for a fact that you two ain't meetin' until later and you're so anal about your reports that you can't have any to do. So, you're gonna hafta come up with a pretty good excuse for leavin' me in the lurch like this."
Glaring at the engineer, Malcolm sighed. "If you must know…I have to meet with Dr. Phlox about a medical matter."
"That has got to be the worst excuse I've evah heard. 'Specially comin' from you."
"It is not an excuse. I have a slight allergic reaction to animal fur. I wanted to get it taken care of before I started spending a great deal of time in…the captain's quarters."
Trip noticed that, for the second time, when it came to referring to Jon, Malcolm had hesitated before settling on calling him by his rank. He filed that little piece of information in the back of his mind before responding to the lieutenant.
"I hafta admit that it's a pretty funny picture. You two tryin' to be all romantic and you start havin' this sneezin' fit. I'd definitely pay to see that one."
"Quite humorous for you, perhaps…I really do have to be going, Trip. It sometimes takes a while to ascertain a proper medication for an allergy." Malcolm rolled his eyes. "Believe me."
As Malcolm started to stand up to leave, Trip stopped him by touching his arm with his hand. "Thanks for chattin' with me while I ate. I appreciate it."
After he replied with a simple nod and a "have a good night, Commander," Malcolm walked across the mess hall and disposed of his tray before leaving. With his destination in mind, his mind replayed Trip's last words. He knew what the commander had been referring to. How he had been more open with him than usual. It hadn't been as difficult as he thought it might be to talk about himself. It had been nice, in a way, to not discuss work and instead just chat, as Trip had said. It felt better, more real. He could tell that it had surprised Trip, almost as much as it had surprised him.
Now, it was time to shock another of his crewmates. The doctor would undoubtedly be amazed by his willing visit to Sickbay and very curious for the reason. The tactical officer in him was happily pleased at the ability to be unpredictable and rightfully so. In fact, he was pleased enough to not notice the fact that he was humming an unidentifiable tune as he headed to Sickbay.
******
On a different deck of the Enterprise, there was another strategist at work. As best he could, Jonathan Archer was walking down the corridor trying to not look suspicious. His plan was simple. Enter Malcolm's quarters, grab him a change of clothing, a razor, and a comb, and return to his quarters. All without being noticed. Or overly noticed, at any rate.
It was around dinner time so the chance of seeing a great deal of crewmen was small but it was still enough to make him nervous. There were quite a few unknown variables in his little idea. However, as the image of a sleeping Malcolm curled up against his side floated through his mind, Jon knew that he really didn't care. In fact, there was only one variable that scared him.
His train of thoughts stopped as he greeted a pair of crewmen as they passed him in the corridor. They didn't give him any odd looks, though. And why should they? All he was doing was preparing to break half a dozen rules by using his command codes to enter, without permission, the quarters of his…
What were he and Malcolm anyway? Lovers? Not exactly. Partners? Jon knew that he was serious and he was almost entirely certain that Malcolm felt the same way.
"Good evening, sir."
Jon stopped and turned toward the sound of the voice. Travis Mayweather had fallen step along side him. The boomer's face was lit up by his typical cheerful smile. He appreciated the ever constant enthusiasm of the young ensign. His love of space and of a life among the stars reminded Jon of his own feelings.
"Evening, Travis. Ready for the away mission tomorrow?"
Smiling wider, Travis grinned at his captain. Flying the shuttlepod was one of his favorite parts of his job. The controls required a bit more finesse and precision piloting was often necessary. He hadn't been off the ship in, what seemed like to him, ages so he was looking forward to the next day's mission.
"Always, sir. You?"
"The Turanians seem like an interesting species. Hopefully, we can start off on the right foot with them." Jon almost hadn't caught the ensign's question. He'd noticed that he was just one section away from Malcolm's quarters. Trying to do it as inconspicuously as possible, he slowed his pace and shortened his strides. How was he supposed to enter Malcolm's cabin with Travis watching? Jon had no idea how long Trip was going to be able to him away from here. If his plan was to work, he needed to start now.
Uh, oh. Jon was pretty sure that Travis had said something but he had no idea what it was. Not a clue. "I'm sorry, ensign. I blanked out there for a second. What did you say?"
"I just said that I hoped so, too. Are you all right, sir?" Travis found himself concerned about his captain. He seemed pretty distracted. His commanding officer was a focused individual, just like…Malcolm? The back of his mind registered something. Why did the captain keep glancing towards the door to Malcolm's quarters?
"I'm fine." Jon had to fight off a smile at the Malcolmesque phrase. His helmsman knew something was bothering him, that much he could tell. A seemingly-crazy grin was not what he needed right now.
"Okay." Travis stopped as he turned to walk down an adjacent corridor. "Good night, sir."
"See you bright and early, Travis."
"Yes, sir." Walking down the corridor, Travis was moving a bit slower than usual. His mind was searching for an idea of what might be bothering the captain. And what it had to do with Malcolm. A noise behind him made him stop. Cautiously, he made his way back to the beginning of the junction. He was in time to see Captain Archer enter Malcolm's quarters. As quietly as he could, Travis turned back around and started off back down the hallway. Now his mind was working twice as fast. Was the lieutenant in trouble? For once, he wasn't injured so the captain wouldn't be checking up on him. What was going on?
In the back of his mind, a tiny thought formed. It was born of observations, of not only events on Enterprise but of his crewmates. Their reactions. It came from not only his time on Enterprise but from growing up on a ship, as well. Travis stopped dead in his tracks, his fingers inches from the turbolift call button.
Were the captain and the lieutenant dating?
Shaking his head to clear it, Travis entered the turbolift.
It wasn't possible. He'd known Malcolm Reed longer than anyone else on board. Dating his commanding officer wasn't something that he would do.
He pressed the button for his destination.
Or was it?
------
TBC…
Author: Pretzelduck
Disclaimer: I don't own the Star Trek franchise. I just play in its sandbox every once in a while.
AN: My apologies for the great deal of time between this chapter and the last one. I got hit with the double whammy of college papers and writer's block at the same time. I promise to do better.
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"Bloody hell, is this day over with yet?"
Malcolm Reed quickly glanced around the mess hall, realizing that he'd muttered the sentiment a little louder than he would have liked. It wasn't that it was a difficult day; it was rather the opposite. The Enterprise had made contact with a fairly friendly species, the Turanians. There was an away mission planned for their capital city tomorrow. Apparently, today was some sort of religious observance so they couldn't come down until the day had passed. Normally, he would have been delighted. Extra time between contact and mission would allow him to better ascertain any foreseeable security problems and develop solutions. But all of his careful scanning had proven to be pointless. The Turanians appeared to be at a slightly lower technological level. While they were capable of space flight, warp drive was in its infant stages. Which meant no new tactical advances to spark inspiration for him and the armory team.
It all went downhill from there. For once, when he would have appreciated something to do besides busy work, the targeting scanners appeared to be holding their alignments and the phase cannons were in satisfactory form. And all of his paperwork was neatly finished and turned in. As the man responsible for the safety of the ship, Lt. Reed was quite pleased at the fact that everything seemed to be working. It meant if the Turanians did have any tricks up their sleeves, Enterprise would be ready. Malcolm, on the other hand, had been rather bored. If a day the ship met up with a new species could be considered boring.
This had pretty much resulted in what he was looking at now. A plate of mashed potatoes and a beef patty that resembled the bland food he had been served as a boy at boarding school. Not that Chef's cooking wasn't delicious but after eating nothing but literally meat and potatoes for years, Malcolm preferred to avoid it if possible. But everything about today had been so routine that he hadn't even blinked when he entered the mess hall for dinner. He'd simply grabbed a plate, found an empty table. So here he was. Sitting alone eating a meal that tasted flavorless to him. Just like at school.
'That's it,' he thought to himself. 'Enough moping out of boredom. Think happy thoughts.' The image of a face with a pair of twinkling green eyes and a lazy grin floated through his mind. A soft smile appeared on Malcolm's face as he scooped a bite of potatoes onto his spoon. Oddly enough, he didn't even notice the taste. Or lack there of.
*****
"Lemme get this straight, Cap'n. You want me to keep Malcolm occupied in the mess hall?"
Trip Tucker was looking at his best friend like the man had grown a second head. They were standing in Jon's quarters. Or at least he was. Jon, on the other hand, had taken up pacing back and forth across the cramped space. Whatever was going on in his mind was making his friend as nervous as all hell.
"That's right. In the mess hall. Or in Engineering…or in the Armory. Just keep him away from his quarters." Jon stopped in the middle of his eighteenth trip across the width of his quarters. "Maybe not the Armory. I actually want to see him some time tonight." And then, he started pacing again.
Watching the captain walk back and forth, Trip was now twice as curious about what he was up to. Jon had filled him in on his newfound relationship with Malcolm. It seemed to make him happy. Not that it wasn't obvious, though. When Jon had gotten to the part where he'd admitted to sleeping last night in Malcolm's quarters, his face had lit up in a grin so bright it probably had enough energy to power the warp drive for at least a year. His first thought had been, 'I wonder if Malcolm looks that.' In all honesty, Trip was worried. Malcolm was incredibly aloof and wasn't all that good at expressing emotions beyond frustration and annoyance. He hoped he actually would let Jon in past those barriers of his. The last thing he wanted to do was help Jonny pick up the pieces of his broken heart somewhere down the line. But if they had spent the night together…
"And what exactly will you be doin' while I'm keepin' Malcolm's attention?"
With that, Trip watched in surprise as his friend's cheeks turned redder than he'd ever seen before. And to top that, he had actually stopped pacing. "Malcolm and I have a date tonight…"
The engineer rolled his eyes. "I know that, Cap'n. What's a date hafta do with makin' sure Malcolm stays out of his quarters for a while?"
"I want him to stay out of his quarters for more than a little while. As in, until tomorrow."
Trip couldn't help snickering as he finally understood the redness of Jon's cheeks. "Got somethin' special planned I take it…"
It was Jon's turn to roll his eyes as he looked at his friend. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Trip." A little smile at the corner of his mouth gave him away as Trip started to laugh outright. "Okay, it's not just that. It's that…I want Malcolm to be…comfortable here. And you know how he is about his appearance…"
An image of Malcolm, a razor, and a shuttlepod popped up in Trip's mind. 'What was it Malcolm said…something 'bout an officer always looking his best…' "I gotcha now, Cap'n. I keep Malcolm occupied while you make sure he's got one less excuse to spend the night."
A random thought occurred to Trip. "Is this why you called off dinner tonight?"
Jon just smiled in response.
*****
When Trip entered the mess hall, he knew exactly what he was looking for. A dark-haired figure sitting alone, barely touching his food, surrounded by his work as if he couldn't afford to stop and just eat for a change.
Well, two out of three wasn't bad.
Malcolm was sitting in the corner and picking at his food. What caught Trip's attention, however, was the dreamy smile on Malcolm's face. And the total absence of his typical meal-time companion. A PADD. Grabbing a tray of meat and potatoes, Trip walked over and stood next to his friend.
"Earth to Malcolm. Come in, Malcolm."
The sound of Trip's voice startled Malcolm. He hadn't even noticed his approach. Simply unacceptable for an armory officer. "Good evening, Commander."
There were times that Malcolm's never lapsing sense of propriety bothered him. But tonight, Trip saw it for exactly what it was. A simple defense mechanism against being caught daydreaming. With an inward chuckle, he took the seat across from Malcolm and started in on his mashed potatoes.
Malcolm watched the engineer sit down and found himself grateful for the company. It wasn't often that he would prefer to eat with someone else and he was somewhat pleased that the commander had decided to eat with him. After all, he did owe him a great deal and this would be the perfect opportunity to say thank you. But how to broach the subject?
"How has your day been, sir?"
The words almost caused Trip to choke on the bite of meat he was chewing. Small talk? From Malcolm Reed? He'd been sitting here trying to figure out how to keep Malcolm occupied like Jon had asked him to but with no work to discuss, it made things difficult. At least Malcolm had addressed him as 'sir.' It kept his equilibrium from going too helter-skelter.
"All right, I guess. What 'bout you?"
Malcolm just shook his head. "Rather dull, I must say."
That was definitely an answer Trip didn't expect. "Dull? We made first contact with another race today and yur shift was dull?"
Perfect. Malcolm kept the smile off his face the best he could. Trip had just given him the perfect opening for mentioning what he wanted to discuss. It's not that he didn't like or trust the engineer. The fact remained that he wasn't all that comfortable with turning his personal life into a topic of mess hall dinner conversation.
"I suppose 'dull' would be incorrect. It's just that I had other things on my mind."
A wide knowing grin made its way across Trip's face. If the Enterprise's very own paranoid caution-freak was a bit preoccupied by what he hoped were thoughts of the captain, then perhaps there was nothing to worry about. He recalled the incident last night in the armory when Malcolm had spaced out while they were discussing the weapons systems. The night when Jon and Malcolm had had their first real date.
Using a quieter voice than he usually did, Trip decided to make sure that he and Malcolm were on the same wavelength. "Other things bein' a certain cap'n, perhaps?"
Much to Trip's surprise, Malcolm just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. It wasn't that mildly detached curl of his lips that the engineer was so familiar with but instead, the smile was warm and friendly. "Perhaps."
Then, all the amusement drained from Malcolm's face and voice. "I find myself in your debt, Trip."
The Southerner wasn't sure what confused him more. The statement or the fact that Malcolm had referred to him by his name, instead of his rank. It wasn't the first time he had called him 'Trip' but the times were far enough between to make each time significant.
"Mah debt?"
A light blush worked its way across Malcolm's cheeks. "I'm aware of your actions last night, informing J…the captain of my whereabouts. I merely wanted…to say…thank you."
Trip took another bite of his potatoes. This wasn't the emotionally subdued lieutenant he knew. Or the melancholy pessimist he'd dealt with on that shuttlepod. Malcolm was his friend but there was something just a bit more approachable about the man he was speaking to now. "You're both mah friends. It's the least I could I do, Malcolm."
"Well, I appreciate it nonetheless." Malcolm's face became serious once more. "Anytime you need something, Trip, just ask."
It was more than obvious to Trip that Malcolm was incredibly serious about his request. He simply nodded, hoping the Brit understood that he got the meaning behind his words. It appeared that it wasn't going to be as difficult to keep Malcolm out of his quarters as he thought. "I've already gotten details from the cap'n. Got anything to add to mah collection?"
For a moment, it occurred to Malcolm to simply say that he didn't and end the conversation. He was finished with his meal and he still needed to see Dr. Phlox. The last thing he wanted was to have an allergy attack because of Porthos. But something stopped him. Something told him that it would be all right to talk to Trip. He revealed a great deal to him when he thought he was going to die. What would be wrong in being open when he knew he was going to live?
Much to Trip's relief and amazement, Malcolm added something that Jon hadn't told him about. "Are you aware that he pushed me out of my own bed this morning?"
With a snort, Trip started to laugh. "I don't want to know how you two managed that one."
"I don't know, either. I woke up on the floor, tangled in the sheet, and with a sore arse."
The image of a sleepy, pissed-off Malcolm just made Trip laugh even harder. "I think it's dangerous for you to be sleeping when the cap'n is around."
"I take it he told you about my falling asleep in the middle of our dinner."
"Dinner? From what I heard, you two didn't eat a thing."
"True."
The pair ate in companionable silence for a few moments, as Malcolm finished off what was left of his dinner. "Speaking of dinner though, as much as I'm enjoying our conversation, I've finished mine and I do have other things to do this evening."
Trip was instantly worried. He had no idea how long Jon was going to be "running his errands." If Malcolm went to his quarters and found Jon snooping around…
"Now, I know for a fact that you two ain't meetin' until later and you're so anal about your reports that you can't have any to do. So, you're gonna hafta come up with a pretty good excuse for leavin' me in the lurch like this."
Glaring at the engineer, Malcolm sighed. "If you must know…I have to meet with Dr. Phlox about a medical matter."
"That has got to be the worst excuse I've evah heard. 'Specially comin' from you."
"It is not an excuse. I have a slight allergic reaction to animal fur. I wanted to get it taken care of before I started spending a great deal of time in…the captain's quarters."
Trip noticed that, for the second time, when it came to referring to Jon, Malcolm had hesitated before settling on calling him by his rank. He filed that little piece of information in the back of his mind before responding to the lieutenant.
"I hafta admit that it's a pretty funny picture. You two tryin' to be all romantic and you start havin' this sneezin' fit. I'd definitely pay to see that one."
"Quite humorous for you, perhaps…I really do have to be going, Trip. It sometimes takes a while to ascertain a proper medication for an allergy." Malcolm rolled his eyes. "Believe me."
As Malcolm started to stand up to leave, Trip stopped him by touching his arm with his hand. "Thanks for chattin' with me while I ate. I appreciate it."
After he replied with a simple nod and a "have a good night, Commander," Malcolm walked across the mess hall and disposed of his tray before leaving. With his destination in mind, his mind replayed Trip's last words. He knew what the commander had been referring to. How he had been more open with him than usual. It hadn't been as difficult as he thought it might be to talk about himself. It had been nice, in a way, to not discuss work and instead just chat, as Trip had said. It felt better, more real. He could tell that it had surprised Trip, almost as much as it had surprised him.
Now, it was time to shock another of his crewmates. The doctor would undoubtedly be amazed by his willing visit to Sickbay and very curious for the reason. The tactical officer in him was happily pleased at the ability to be unpredictable and rightfully so. In fact, he was pleased enough to not notice the fact that he was humming an unidentifiable tune as he headed to Sickbay.
******
On a different deck of the Enterprise, there was another strategist at work. As best he could, Jonathan Archer was walking down the corridor trying to not look suspicious. His plan was simple. Enter Malcolm's quarters, grab him a change of clothing, a razor, and a comb, and return to his quarters. All without being noticed. Or overly noticed, at any rate.
It was around dinner time so the chance of seeing a great deal of crewmen was small but it was still enough to make him nervous. There were quite a few unknown variables in his little idea. However, as the image of a sleeping Malcolm curled up against his side floated through his mind, Jon knew that he really didn't care. In fact, there was only one variable that scared him.
His train of thoughts stopped as he greeted a pair of crewmen as they passed him in the corridor. They didn't give him any odd looks, though. And why should they? All he was doing was preparing to break half a dozen rules by using his command codes to enter, without permission, the quarters of his…
What were he and Malcolm anyway? Lovers? Not exactly. Partners? Jon knew that he was serious and he was almost entirely certain that Malcolm felt the same way.
"Good evening, sir."
Jon stopped and turned toward the sound of the voice. Travis Mayweather had fallen step along side him. The boomer's face was lit up by his typical cheerful smile. He appreciated the ever constant enthusiasm of the young ensign. His love of space and of a life among the stars reminded Jon of his own feelings.
"Evening, Travis. Ready for the away mission tomorrow?"
Smiling wider, Travis grinned at his captain. Flying the shuttlepod was one of his favorite parts of his job. The controls required a bit more finesse and precision piloting was often necessary. He hadn't been off the ship in, what seemed like to him, ages so he was looking forward to the next day's mission.
"Always, sir. You?"
"The Turanians seem like an interesting species. Hopefully, we can start off on the right foot with them." Jon almost hadn't caught the ensign's question. He'd noticed that he was just one section away from Malcolm's quarters. Trying to do it as inconspicuously as possible, he slowed his pace and shortened his strides. How was he supposed to enter Malcolm's cabin with Travis watching? Jon had no idea how long Trip was going to be able to him away from here. If his plan was to work, he needed to start now.
Uh, oh. Jon was pretty sure that Travis had said something but he had no idea what it was. Not a clue. "I'm sorry, ensign. I blanked out there for a second. What did you say?"
"I just said that I hoped so, too. Are you all right, sir?" Travis found himself concerned about his captain. He seemed pretty distracted. His commanding officer was a focused individual, just like…Malcolm? The back of his mind registered something. Why did the captain keep glancing towards the door to Malcolm's quarters?
"I'm fine." Jon had to fight off a smile at the Malcolmesque phrase. His helmsman knew something was bothering him, that much he could tell. A seemingly-crazy grin was not what he needed right now.
"Okay." Travis stopped as he turned to walk down an adjacent corridor. "Good night, sir."
"See you bright and early, Travis."
"Yes, sir." Walking down the corridor, Travis was moving a bit slower than usual. His mind was searching for an idea of what might be bothering the captain. And what it had to do with Malcolm. A noise behind him made him stop. Cautiously, he made his way back to the beginning of the junction. He was in time to see Captain Archer enter Malcolm's quarters. As quietly as he could, Travis turned back around and started off back down the hallway. Now his mind was working twice as fast. Was the lieutenant in trouble? For once, he wasn't injured so the captain wouldn't be checking up on him. What was going on?
In the back of his mind, a tiny thought formed. It was born of observations, of not only events on Enterprise but of his crewmates. Their reactions. It came from not only his time on Enterprise but from growing up on a ship, as well. Travis stopped dead in his tracks, his fingers inches from the turbolift call button.
Were the captain and the lieutenant dating?
Shaking his head to clear it, Travis entered the turbolift.
It wasn't possible. He'd known Malcolm Reed longer than anyone else on board. Dating his commanding officer wasn't something that he would do.
He pressed the button for his destination.
Or was it?
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TBC…