Waldo 2.0

Set any time after series 3.

Warnings: Slight spoilers for 'Minefield'

Disclaimer: I don't own it; I make no money from it. Not written for profit, simply for pleasure.

Thoughts are written in italics.

This is my first fic so sorry for any mistakes, but a lot of the dialogue for Trip was intentional to fit with his accent.

Hope you like it.


"No."

"Aww c'mon Mal, it'll be fun!"

"No."

Archer smiled at the banter between the Commander and the Lieutenant. He glanced at the time peace hanging from the wall of the diving rental store and chuckled to himself; Trip had been trying to convince Malcolm to come diving with them for the last hour and a half. Without success.

"Pleeeeaaaaaaaaaaassseee! Pleeeeaassseee Malcolm? With a torpedo on top?" Trip's drawled, stretching the word with a huge grin splitting his face. Jon let himself drift, no longer paying attention to the seemingly endless conversation.

Instead he focused on their surroundings. He had been surprised when Malcolm had agreed to accompany them on shore leave to Earth, although he had a strong feeling that a certain Chief Engineer was partly responsible. Although that was nothing compared to his surprise when Malcolm had suggested the tiny sea-side town as a spot to explore.

I wonder how Malcolm found this place. He thought to himself, shooting the pair a wry look from the corner of his eye as Trip's voice went up another octave. Trip was now kneeling next to Malcolm, who was looking anywhere but the Commander in question. And the ocean of course.

Jon frowned and looked around. They were seated on a patio by the harbour, the surrounding town quiet, despite the clear sky and bright sun. Locals ambled around their business in a relaxed way, and Jon felt the responsibility of being a Starfleet Captain draining away, as he looked back at his two bickering officers.

Malcolm was afraid of the water, that much he knew, so it seemed strange that he would willingly select a town for shore leave with an abundance of the stuff. No, he thought. There must be another reason why he chose this place. Annoyingly, Jon couldn't ask the Armoury Officer straight out, because he had promised not to mention it to anyone else, and judging from the way Trip was carrying on, he didn't know. He shook his head and checked the time. One hour and fifty minutes now. This had gone on long enough.

"?"

Archer cleared his throat and they both looked at him, Malcolm relieved and Trip confused.

"Cap'n?"

"Trip," he began, hoping beyond hope that Trip would leave Malcolm alone. "If Malcolm says he doesn't want to go, then he doesn't want to go."

Malcolm sighed and shot him a grateful look, but Trip looked scandalised.

"But Cap'n he has to come! He has to! I mean, why pick this place if ya ain't gonna come?" He asked, turning to look at Malcolm. Jon raised his eyebrow at Reed. It was a fair question. And just the one that he had been wanting to ask.

Malcolm looked from one man to the other, realising that they both wanted an answer and cleared his throat, looking at the floor. When he looked up again it was with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment.

He fixed his eyes of the diving paraphernalia over Jon's shoulder and answered "In all honesty I'm not sure why I chose this town, except for the fact that I know there is marine life in those waters to rival Waldo". He cast an apologetic look at Archer, who briefly wondered how he knew about the incident with the beast, before deciding he didn't want to know.

"Waldo? The Waldo? The moray eel?" Trip was getting visibly more excited at the prospect of finding Waldo's big brother.

"Yes. The rumour has it that a local had a moray eel as a pet, but it escaped into the harbour, and now it's massive. It lives in one of the crevices in the rock face over there," Malcolm said, pointing to a spot not too far away.

"That settles it!" Trip exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "Mal, you're comin' with us! Ya gotta show us this thing! Ah'll get the gear."

Trip walked off before either of the other two could protest and Jon heard Malcolm sigh in a resigned way, and shifted to stand next to him so that no one else could hear.

"Malcolm you don't have to do this," he said, looking concernedly at his officer. Malcolm had a tired look on his face that spoke of one too many guilt trips at the hands of Commander Tucker.

"Thank you Captain, but I'll be fine."

Jon smiled. "I never expected any less," he said, clapping a hand on Malcolm's shoulder.

Just then Trip reappeared. "Sorted!" He grinned at them. "He's loadin' the gear onto a boat for us now. Ah'm not exactly sure how to work the boat, but ah'm sure it'll be fine." He missed Archer and Reed's doubtful looks. "C'mon! S'this way!"

Trip turned and started leading them towards the jetty where a small sailing boat with a motor sat waiting silently. Jon stared at it and then turned quietly to Malcolm.

"Lieutenant, you do know how to 'work the boat', right?" Trip was an excellent engineer and a good pilot, but a shuttle pod and a boat were very different things.

Malcolm was pale but nodded in the affirmative, and Jon felt himself relax a little.

Half an hour later the small boat sat rocking in the ocean as the trio donned their diving equipment. Jon and Trip staggered about the boat at the waves rocked them while they tried to drag their wetsuits over their swim trunks.

Malcolm, already changed, sat on the small bench at the rear of the craft and glared cautiously at the water. He had only agreed to this to keep Tucker happy, and if Tucker was happy there was an improved chance that he would take a look at the targeting scanners. He frowned; they always seemed to be out of alignment since their little trip to the expanse. Perhaps it didn't agree with them,he mused. And then there was the matter of security. The Captain and Commander Tucker always seemed to manage to get into trouble, and he dreaded to think of the trouble they could get into underwater. It was his job to keep them safe. Even if that meant immersing himself completely in water.

He returned his attention to the water. The waves breaking against the boat were the clearest blue in colour, innocently caressing the hull, but he knew better than to let that fool him. He knew what they were capable of. Once again he checked the air in his oxygen cylinder, in an almost absent minded way. He could do this. He was the Armoury Officer of the pride of Starfleet, after all. A quick dive, wave at the eel, and then back to dry land. He could do this. He could do this. And then he could get Tucker to fix his torpedoes.

"Malcolm?"

His head snapped up as he belatedly realised that both his companions had succeeded in putting their equipment on, and that both Tucker and Archer had been trying to get his attention for that last few minutes while he was lost in thought of targeting scanners.

"Sorry, sirs."

"Mal, we're on shore leave! S'Jon and Trip. Ain't that right Cap'n?" Jon nodded, smiling at Trip's unintentional contradiction. "See Mal? Trip. Say it with me; Trrriiiiiiiipppp." Tucker grinned at the glaring Lieutenant, apparently pleased with himself.

"Very well, Trip," Malcolm said stiffly, "Jon," he added with a respectful nod which made Trip roll his eyes, "have you both checked your equipment?"

Jon started to shake his head, but Trip cut across him "Ah did it already, Loo-tenant. Back when we were waitin' for the owner to find us a boat."

"You're sure, Commander?"

"Trip, Mal. Trip."

"Fine, Trip then. You're sure." Trip nodded in an exasperated sort of way. Malcolm stood and shouldered his tank, it's weight oddly comforting. "Shall we then, gentlemen?"

They both nodded in agreement and soon all three men had slipped into the water, Malcolm a little apprehensively and under the subtle gaze of his Captain, who was ready to fake cramp at the slightest sign of discomfort from the younger man. They pulled on their goggles and put in their mouth pieces, and Tucker gestured wordlessly at Malcolm.

Lead the way.

Keeping his breathing as steady as he could while surrounded by water, Malcolm nodded and sunk beneath the surface. The other two followed as Malcolm swam in the direction of the rock-face. He was glad to be leading the way. This way he could allow his training as a security officer to override his fear as he scanned the gloomy water for any potential dangers to his two senior officers. He concentrated on his breathing too, and found that if he didn't think about what he was doing, he could just about keep the rising panic at bay.

They had soon reached the rock face, dotted with holes and Malcolm stopped, the others close behind him, and pointed towards a large hole near the base of the rock.

Over there. It's in that one.

Jon didn't have time to wonder how Malcolm knew exactly where to find the giant eel, as Trip started to swim forwards to investigate. He followed before twisting in the water to look back at Malcolm. He hadn't moved. Jon cocked his head to one side, and gestured to Malcolm.

Come on.

Malcolm shook his head. He was staying where he was. He considered staying with the younger man, but his curiosity drew him to follow Trip the final few feet to the eel's hole.

The engineer in question was shining his torch into the hole. Jon stayed back slightly, he had been on the receiving end of those teeth once before, and didn't want to repeat the experience. He glanced back at Malcolm, who looked like he was scanning the area for hostile aliens, and smiled to himself, shaking his head. You could take the man out of the Armoury…

Suddenly, a cascade of bubbles erupted next to him. He turned to see Trip rapidly back-peddling from the hole. He darted towards his friend, and then he saw it.

Malcolm wasn't kidding! The eel was massive, at least twice the size of Waldo, teeth glinting dangerously as it darted out at him, lightning quick. He dodged as quickly as he could; he had seen what those teeth could do. But as Trip tried to get to safety he span in the water. It would have been quite comical, if the eel's teeth hadn't severed both his air hoses.

Trip writhed in the water, panicking. Archer swam forwards, his only thoughts for his friend, and missed the eel coming out for another attack. It caught him on the leg, it's sharp teeth sinking deep. He tried to reach under its jaw to find a the pressure point that would make it release his leg, but he found he couldn't reach with the tank in the way. He quickly unclipped it from his chest, took a deep breath and let it slide from his back. Now his arms were free, Jon twisted and grappled for the right spot. He tried again as black spots began to dance in front of his eyes, making strange patterns with the bubbles swirling in the water.

Suddenly the pressure on his leg ceased, and a familiar face danced in front of his vision, pushing a breathing piece into his mouth. He inhaled as deeply as he could, but the black spots refused to fade. And then someone was pulling him, towing him through the water. He felt himself bump against another body as they moved, and looked across the first man to see a second staring dazedly back at him. He looked up at the person towing him towards the surface and the headache he could feel building worsened.

No. Malcolm's afraid of the water. I must be dreaming. He closed his eyes and felt himself drift.

The sound of seagulls and retching woke Jon. He was lying on a cold, quietly humming surface, and had the unpleasant feeling of swaying.

The boat. He opened his eyes and saw Trip leaning over the railings. A glance around told him Malcolm was at the helm, and that they were heading swiftly towards shore again. He tried to sit up and groaned at the pain it provoked in his leg.

All at once the engine noise cut out and Malcolm was by his side, looking pale and soaked through, but otherwise unharmed.

"Easy sir, just lie still," he said, pushing a hand on Jon's shoulder to hold him against the deck.

"What happened?"

"Urgh." The sound came from the railings, and the pair turned to watch Trip stagger over to the bench and pull a towel around himself. "S'wot I wanna know," he croaked. They both turned to Malcolm, who frowned worriedly.

"You don't remember?"

"Some of it," Jon said tiredly. "The eel attacking. And then I lost my air tank. And then I'm not sure. I thought I saw you pulling us through the water. But Trip had lost his air too, and each of them only had two air hoses." He frowned and turned to his friend. "Trip?"

"Ah remember pretty much the same, Cap'n. Though' I was gonna pass out an' drown down there for a minute."

The turned to Malcolm again, who looked a little uncomfortable.

"You were both attacked by the eel. I got to you as quickly as I could and gave Commander Tucker the secondary air hose from my tank. Then I managed to get the eel to release you, Captain, and gave you the other air hose and pulled you back to the boat. I medicated your leg wound as best as I could, but I think we need to get back to sure as soon as possible."

Jon nodded and Malcolm returned to the helm, and restarted the motor, taking them back towards land again.

For a few minutes there was quiet, but then Trip's voice broke it.

"Ah don' understand though. How did ya get that eel off Jon's leg?"

Malcolm wordlessly turned and pulled out a long knife from the sheath tied to his leg.

"Ya killed it?"

Malcolm shook his head. "Just gave it enough of a scare to make it let go."

Tucker fell silent again for a few minutes, then piped up again.

"Mal, were ya hurt?"

Malcolm frowned. "No, I'm fine."

"Only, when ya got us onto the boat again, you were shakin' like a leaf in a hurricane."

Malcolm shared a glance with Jon, who had been watching the exchange silently, and nodded slightly. Jon smiled and turned to Trip.

"You know how you're scared of bugs, Trip?"

"Yeah."

"And how Hoshi's claustrophobic?"

"Yeah. Where ya goin' with this Cap'n?"

Jon looked pointedly at Reed, who was stubbornly looking ahead as he guided the boat towards shore. Tucker gave him a confused look, and Archer nodded towards Reed significantly.

"Oh." Tucker's eyes went wide and he stared at Reed in disbelief. "Mal's afraid of water?" He asked, shocked.

"Drowing, actually," Malcolm piped up from the helm.

Trip turned towards Archer. "Did you-?"

"Know? Yes, Malcolm told me just after our first year in space."

As though a thought suddenly occurred to him, Trip turned back to Malcolm again. "Is that why ya didn't join the Navy? An' why ya don' talk to your parents anymore?"

"Yes." Malcolm replied simply. "My father didn't agree with any choice of career that didn't involve the Navy."

Tucker seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Then if you got that to be dealin' with how did you pull us outta the water? An' why did you agree to come divin' in the first place?" He asked indignantly.

"If you recall, Commander, I never actually agreed to come diving at all. You made the decision for me."

Trip winced slightly at this and there was a mumbled "sorry" from his general direction.

"That's quite all right Trip," Malcolm said with a small smile. "And as to how I got you out of the water, I went through the same training you did, and I can swim, I just don't." He glanced over his shoulder at his senior officers. "And I could hardly leave you behind now could I?"

Jon smiled. "Are you sure you're ok, Malcolm?"

"Yes sir, I'm fine".

Jon and Trip both chuckled at that, and smiled as the welcome sight of the harbour greeted them.

"Mal," Trip said quietly. Malcolm turned towards him. "Thanks." Jon nodded enthusiastically.

"You're welcome. But you may not want to thank me just yet. Something tells me Phlox may want to spend some time with you after today." He replied, smirking at the look of dismay that appeared on Trips face, and guided them back to land.

The End.

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