Title: Trip's Letter
Author: Josephine
Email: Lovellama@aol.com
Rating: G
Characters: T/S, R
Category: Romance/General
Summary: A twist on the drunken scene from Shuttlepod One
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"Here, what d'you think of T'Pol? Hmm? D'you think she's pretty?" Malcolm leaned over slightly and nudged Trip, catching himself before he fell.
"T'Pol? Are you serious?" Taking another swig of bourbon, Trip looked over at the drunken Englishman.
"Well she is a woman you know."
"You've had too much to drink." Trip huddled in on himself, trying to keep warm.
"Don't tell me you've never looked at her ... in that way." Malcolm reached for the bottle and grimaced as the alcohol burned its way down his throat.
"Nah, she's a Vulcan." Trip shok his head emphatically.
"I think she's pretty."
"Oh Gwad ... ya wanna know who's pretty …" Trip took back the bottle. "Hoshi. Hoshi's pretty. Naw, she's beautiful. Girl's a looker, that's for dammed sure." Falling silent, Trip watched the amber liquid swirl in the bottle and thought of Hoshi's smile.
"Did you ever notice her bum? She's got an awfully nice bum."
Furious, Trip glared at Malcolm. "What're ya doin' lookin' at Hoshi's bum?"
"Who said anything 'bout Hoshi's bum? I didn't say anything about Hoshi's bum. Does Hoshi have a bum?" A befuddled Malcolm looked at Trip. "You like her! You like Hoshi!"
"Yeah, well, ya like T'Pol. An'way there ain't much I can do about it now. We're adrift in space with no guarantee that Enterprise'll get t' us in time." Up went the bottle again. "Shoulda asked her out when I had th' chance."
Malcolm blinked at Trip, trying to get him into focus. "Write her a letter."
"What? Naw, that's … morbid."
"If she means so much t'you, write her a bloody letter! Tell her how you feel! Get it of your chest."
"… aw right. I will." Trip stumbled to his feet, trying to wrap the blanket around himself and take a drink at the same time.
"Give me the bottle before you spill it, you great southern pillock." Pulling it from Trip's hand, Malcolm pushed the Engineer to the front of the shuttle.
Trip sat down heavily in the seat before him, and took a few stabs at the log's record button before finally hitting it.
"Hi Hoshi, it's me, Trip. I, umm … well … the thing is … Hosh, you mean the world t' me. I'm sorry I never told you, it was cowardly, but I guess I just couldn't get up the nerve. You're so beautiful, and you're getting' braver everyday, I could never find the right time t' tell you how I felt. I hope you have a good life, meet a man who's worthy of you, and have lots of kids. Maybe some nights you could take 'em out and show 'em the stars, and tell 'em about your old friend Trip."
There's a letter in m' file to m' parents, in case I died an' all, could you make sure they get it? I'd greatly appreciate it, darlin'."
… good-bye, Hosh. I'll miss ya." With an audible snap Trip turned off the log.
"Well Mal," Trip eased himself back down next to Malcolm. "It's done, I hope yer satisfied. … Mal?" A snore reassured Trip that the Armory Officer was still alive. Taking the bottle from between stiff fingers, Trip finished it off. "Hang on Mal, here we go."
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Seven hours later a slight form let herself into Sickbay. After a cursory glance at the left biobed, she stood by the right and looked down at the sleeping occupant. Placing a hand on his, she smoothed back his hair and placed a kiss on his forehead.
"Welcome back, Trip."