This is – finally – my entry for Messhall Midnight Munchies, and is dedicated to Begoogled. I think it's my first attempt at writing something from Hoshi's POV, so go easy with me in your comments!
Set right after Vanishing Point.
"The best way to put an end to the bugs is to set fire to the bed"
Anonymous Mexican proverb
Blowing out a frustrated breath, Hoshi switched on the light for the third time in the past twenty minutes and sat up in bed, leaning back on her arms and scanning her room with narrowed eyes.
This made no sense – and because it didn't, maybe she should be paging Lieutenant Reed. But that would be even more preposterous, and she had just made a fool of herself with that story that her molecules weren't keeping together and aliens about to blow up the ship; she wasn't keen on an encore. Yes, because – let's be honest about it – what where the chances that on a spaceship...
No, no. This must still be part of the side effects of being trapped in the transporter's buffer for those eight seconds.
Hoshi glanced at the time: close to midnight. Alright. Throwing her legs off the bed, she pulled on a pair of black sweatpants, sneakers, and slipped into a red top. Going into the bathroom, she hesitated a moment. She was still uncomfortable looking into a mirror, lest some of her face was not there. A mental scowl at her weak self, though, was all that she needed to finally reach for the light switch.
Everything was in the right place; nothing was missing. A sigh of relief escaped her lips. Picking up her brush, Hoshi passed it slowly through her hair. The action was soothing, reminding her of when her mother had done it to her as a child and taught her to arrange her shiny black hair in different ways. Smiling at the memory, she tied it into a loose ponytail.
Leaning forward, she passed feathery fingers under her circled eyes and smirked at the tired face that looked back. She needed rest and here she was, unable to sleep because of a damn... Rolling her eyes, she turned away from her reflection and switched the light off.
She lingered one moment on the threshold of the bathroom door, pinning her ears and futilely scanning the room once again. Sure enough, it was still there.
Eyes fixed purposefully ahead, Hoshi strode across the room and let herself out.
"Are your molecules still together?"
Hoshi jumped a mile; then, hands on her hips, turned to the corner of the Mess Hall from where the disembodied voice had come. In the dim light she couldn't really see the details of the features of the man sitting there, but she didn't need to.
"Very funny, Commander," she said with a reproachful frown.
"Sorry, Hosh; didn't mean to scare ya," Trip drawled, sounding at least regretful.
Hoshi took a couple of steps towards him, till she could make out the innocent expression in his eyes and the mischievous smile spreading across his face. It sure was difficult to stay mad at Trip.
"It's okay," she relented, "I'm still a bit jumpy, I guess." With that, she turned and went to get herself a cup of chamomile tea. She eyed the serving cabinet. What she needed was a bit of comfort; something to munch on.
A moment later, cup and some chocolate chip cookies on a tray, Hoshi made her way to Trip's table. "Mind if I sit with you, Commander?"
"No, as long as you stop callin' me that," was the deadpan reply.
"Deal," Hoshi said, with mock gravity. Sitting down, she looked at the glass of milk and piece of pie that were on the table in front of Trip. Could it be that…
"Hungry?" she asked teasingly, raising her eyebrows.
"I could ask you the same thing."
Hoshi shot him a nervous smile. "It takes a lot of energy to keep one's molecules together."
Trip gave a soft chuckle, but it was lacklustre. So she was right.
"Stop feeling guilty, Trip. I'm back safe and sound."
"Am I so obvious?" the man wondered with a lopsided smirk.
Hoshi picked up a cookie and raised it in front of her eyes. "Absolutely." Her gaze strayed briefly to the Engineer, before she finally took a bite.
"I know you're back, but…"
Hoshi, who had closed her eyes the better to relish her treat, re-opened them on a face that was still wary.
"… I can't forgive myself for letting you stay behind on that planet." Passing a hand through his short hair, Trip blew out a breath. "It was wrong. I was the ranking officer, and—"
"Trip." Hoshi blinked once. "I know. You told me."
The blue eyes widened. "What? When?"
Hoshi bit her lip. "You said so when..." She faltered; it had all been in her mind, even Trip talking to her supposedly dead self, in that access tube. She shook her head to clear it. "Forget it," she concluded, picking up her cup. "In any case, you transported first to be kind to me; to prove me that it was not dangerous. So, please, don't feel guilty."
"Yeah, but—"
"Pl-ease?"
"'Kay."
They looked at each other for a moment.
Hoshi felt something tug at her conscience. Poor Trip. If she hadn't been such a chicken… But then again, if Trip had gone second, maybe the same horrible experience would've happened to him.
Picking up his fork, Trip cut off a piece of his pie and slowly brought it to his mouth, munching on it half-heartedly. "So," he mumbled, after a sip of milk. "What did it feel like to be a ghost?"
Hoshi heaved an inner sigh. It seemed the man's mind was in a loop, and this was the only subject he was able to come up with.
"Not fun," she replied in a straight face. "It was all so real," she added, fighting once again a vague sensation of despair. "I was totally convinced that I had become invisible. I could see you all trying to find out what had happened, but there was no way I could communicate with any of you."
"I'm gonna make sure nothin' like this happens to anyone else," Trip said darkly. "I'm gonna pick the transporter apart piece by piece."
The determination in his voice brought a small smile to Hoshi's lips. "Trip, the transporter was in perfect order, it was that storm," she said. Her face fell at the thought of what was happening to her now, and she let out an audible breath. "I only wish I could…"
Suddenly realising she had said more than she'd intended, Hoshi broke off, biting her lower lip. Too late. Trip's curiosity had already been piqued.
"You could what?" he enquired, gaze boring into her.
A particularly colourful Andorian expression crossed Hoshi's mind. She wasn't keen on telling anyone that she was still hallucinating. She'd be sent to Phlox, when all she wanted, instead, was to go back to her normal life. Get up in the morning, take a shower – possibly without water running through her – don a fresh uniform and report to the Bridge.
"Hosh?"
"Nothing," Hoshi blurted out, finding refuge behind her cup of chamomile tea. She took a sip, lowering her eyes to the drink.
"Don't make me regret telling you to forget about rank," Trip said, more threateningly.
Trip was more than capable to order her to tell him. When Hoshi refocused on unswerving blue eyes, she knew she was cornered. She made a dismissive gesture. "I… I still have a few lingering sensations, that's all. I'm sure tomorrow morning I'll be just fine." She wished the certainty in her voice was matched by an equally confident heart.
"What kind of lingerin' sensations?" Trip, predictably, wanted to know.
Hoshi gave a nervous chuckle. "I hear something in my quarters that is not really there. One damn pestering mosquito."
Trip's head jerked back, chin down. "A what?"
"A mosquito. You know? Moustique, mygga, zanzara, blood-sucking flying insect that—"
"I know what a mosquito is," Trip cut her off. "There can't be a mosquito on Enterprise."
Hoshi shot him an irritated glance. "Of course not. Why do you think I'm bothered by it? I must be still hallucinating." She smirked in frustration. "It's just so real that I keep thinking that maybe…" Shaking her head, she muttered, "Nah, it can't be."
Trip's brow knit. "You sure there is no mosquito in your quarters?" he asked, warily.
"Trip, you just said it yourself! There can't be a mosquito on a starship!"
Suddenly Trip was on his feet. "Well, you never know what it could be. Come on."
Hoshi looked up, unmoved by his spurt of energy. "I already checked my quarters pretty thoroughly," she said, shoulders slumping. "It's in my head."
"I'm not goin' to your quarters."
"And I'm not going to Phlox," Hoshi countered with a scowl. "Not just yet."
"Phlox?" Trip wondered, hands on his hips. "Who said anything about Phlox? I'm calling Security in on this one."
Hoshi opened her mouth to speak, and it took her a moment to find her voice. "Oh, no. I'm not waking Malcolm up to tell him I think there is a mosquito in my room," she said, bringing a hand to her chest.
Trip cocked his head, beckoning. "Ya won't need to – I'll do it."
"Trip!"
"Ya never know when somethin' may be amiss, here in space."
Trip's heavy drawl meant the man's mind was made up, and Hoshi found herself running after the blond Engineer, who was already taking off towards the Mess hall doors.
The silence and dim light in the corridor, during the ship's artificial night, made for a far from reassuring atmosphere. This was the middle of the night, for heaven's sake, Malcolm was going to have their skin.
"Look, Trip, I'm sure this isn't necessary," Hoshi said, as she tried to keep up with the man's longer strides. Do you have any idea what Malcolm will say, when we tell him we woke him up because I think I hear a mosquito in my quarters?"
Trip shot her a side glance. "Bloody hell. I'm sure he won't go for anything heavier than that, in front of a lady."
They rounded the last bend and Hoshi slowed down, giving Malcolm's door a nervous glance.
"No, I'm serious, Trip – TRIP!"
Hoshi stopped in her tracks. Heedless of her urgent, loud whisper, the Engineer had raised a defiant hand to the bell button and pressed.
"Don't worry, Hosh," he said, turning to give her a hundred-watt smile. "Took me a while, but I've figured Malcolm out. I know how to handle him." His smile fell as he thought for a second. "Or I think I do. In any case, it's the man's damn job to check on things like this."
"Things like what?"
Hoshi's eyes refocused behind Trip, who swivelled to face Malcolm.
"Ah, there you are," the Engineer said.
His voice was much too matter-of-fact for the late hour, and the Security Officer blinked perplexingly. "Where else would you expect me to be at this time, Commander?"
"Lieutenant," Hoshi greeted, clearing her throat uncomfortably.
The Lieutenant in question, who was standing in sweatpants and bare chest, jerked his head in her direction and immediately wrapped his arms around said rather attractive portion of his body.
"Ensign."
Hoshi bit the inside of her cheek not to smile. Malcolm with his hair dishevelled and barefoot, as he was now, and a blush creeping up his neck, was not something you saw every day.
Unfortunately.
"There is something strange goin' on in Hoshi's quarters," Trip said, cutting to the core. "I think you should check it out."
The grey eyes narrowed, and Hoshi noticed that Malcolm looked pretty tired. Suddenly she wandered if he had been sleeping; he'd opened the door awfully fast.
"What are you talking about?" Malcolm enquired darkly.
His arms were still wrapped around his torso, but his biceps had tensed. Hoshi forced her eyes to track back up to a more comfortable spot – above his Adam's apple. Uh, comfortable perhaps wasn't the right word. Malcolm's face was a study in shades of wary.
"Ah – it's probably just nothing," she croaked out, trying to ignore the piercing grey eyes. "Tr... – the Commander insisted we should tell you, but..."
She trailed, feeling her face crumple in a grimace of unease. Why on earth had she not turned to the other side and covered her ears, instead of getting up and going to the Messhall?
Malcolm frowned, and when Hoshi did not continue he shifted his gaze to Trip.
"Strange... noises," the Engineer said with a serious nod. "Hoshi's hearing strange noises in her quarters."
"Bloody hell."
Hoshi met Trip's smug glance. When she looked back, Malcolm was no longer there. A moment later he had reappeared, complete with scanner and phase pistol. And T-shirt. On the positive side, it was a body-hugging one.
Trip eyed the weapon and opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, undoubtedly judging it wiser not to tell Malcolm he couldn't well use it against the alleged cause of the strange noises. They followed the Security Officer along the corridor; Hoshi darting Trip furious glances which he studiously ignored.
"What kind of noises are you hearing, Ensign?" Malcolm shot over his shoulder, as he sped nimbly along.
"A... high-pitched buzzing," Hoshi stammered. It wasn't, in all honesty, the uncomfortable truth that had tied her tongue, but the lovely V shape of Malcolm's back and what was at its bottom.
"Like an electrical piece of equipment? A scanner, perhaps?"
Every muscle of the Lieutenant's body was tensing up; it looked like all kinds of scenarios were already going through his head. Heaven, it looked like he was already prepared to face an alien intrusion. Hoshi bit her upper lip. "Like a mosquito, actually," she admitted, her voice wavering now with the effort to restrain the laugh that was bubbling up her throat. What a royal screw-up. Because this was really all in her head, she was sure of it.
Her mirth vanished when she found herself up against narrowed eyes. Malcolm had stopped and made a sudden turn-about, and she'd had to put herself in reverse gear not to smack right into him.
"A mosquito."
The grey gaze shifted between her and Trip a couple of times, finally stopping on the Engineer.
"Could be anythin'," Trip said, defensively. "Hell, could even be a deadly alien mosquito, for all we know."
"There can't be a mosquito on board," Malcolm said in that creepy dark voice of his.
"Who says so?" Trip countered, standing tall, obviously forgetful of his own previous objection.
A groan escaped Malcolm's throat. "Trip---"
"Guys," Hoshi butted in, placing herself in the middle. "This is stupid." She cast Trip an irritated look. "This is just in my head, like the vanishing thing." She turned to Malcolm. "I'm so sorry we woke you up. Let's just forget about it, okay?"
"You didn't. Wake me up. Actually."
Before Hoshi could wonder at the awkward admission, Malcolm had recovered his self-confidence and added, "Better check this out," resuming his long strides toward her quarters.
"That's the gist of it," Trip commented flatly, with a roll of his eyes.
They had unleashed the Security Officer and now had to suffer the consequences – Hoshi mused as she and Trip took off again too.
Standing silent and immobile in a triangle in the middle of Hoshi's quarters, backs almost touching, they scanned their surroundings.
"I told you, there's nothing," Hoshi said, at length. She could hear the dejection in her own voice. "I'm sure tomorrow I'll be okay again." She couldn't convince her own self, how could she hope to...
"Shh," Trip urged.
Silence fell again.
"Are you hearing anything, Ensign?" Malcolm enquired after a moment.
"No. But you know how it is with mosquitoes: you can only hear them once you turn the light off and get into bed." She felt Malcolm move and turned to meet his gaze. "Forget it."
Trip's head snapped back, and something definitely mischievous crossed Malcolm's face at approximately the same speed as her blush rose, from as far away as her toes.
"I can switch off the light, though," she croaked out, quickly acting on her words. She silently exhaled, welcoming the covering darkness.
More seconds ticked by in total silence. Hoshi was already about to heave a sigh of relief when the pestering buzzing returned. Great. Now she could either pretend she didn't hear anything or face a session with Phlox.
"I'll be damned," Trip whispered.
Hoshi's eyes went wide. "You hear it too? You mean I'm not hallucinating?"
"Not unless this is a group delusion," Malcolm said, voice rough as he donned the predator's clothes.
In the darkness, pierced only by the ship's outer lights filtering through the porthole, Hoshi followed the efficient progress of Malcolm's body – not a movement too many – as it slowly glided along the perimeter of the small room, pistol held at the ready.
"I know you're a good shot, Loo-tenant," Trip's teasing voice drawled. "But this is a damn small target."
Trip's form was still immobile, in the middle of the room.
Malcolm didn't bother to reply; but suddenly a cone of light appeared. He had switched on a flashlight, and Hoshi wondered where he had got it.
The buzzing stopped, and they all froze. Then it started again. The light began to search the room and… lo and behold! After a moment a small insect appeared in it. It was slightly bigger than an Earth mosquito, and was a very vague light shade of green; almost transparent, in fact.
"There you are," Malcolm muttered. He followed the course of the little insect, losing it a couple of times but always managing to find it again. "Don't move!" he ordered them, in that clipped accent that would still even an earthquake.
The cone of light wandered in circles with the alien gnat, and finally landed, still with it, on Trip's chest.
"Of course," Trip said, pissed-off. "On who else, if not the man who hates insects? Yer not gonna shoot it, are you?"
This time the question had a warning in it.
"Or course not, Commander," Malcolm's voice came back – and though it was not much louder than a whisper, there was no mistaking the mirth in it. "Starfleet regulations prohibit me from killing an alien insect unnecessarily."
Trip started heaving a deep breath but Malcolm stopped him with an urgent, "Don't!"
"My glass," Hoshi urged. "The glass on my desk. We can trap it under it."
"Clever," Malcolm said, with a hint of admiration. "It's the best way."
"Look, why don't I just smack it flat?" Trip was still holding his breath. "For all we know the thing might be poisonous!"
But Malcolm had already put down his pistol and brandished his new weapon, and was approaching stealthily. He raised the hand that was holding the glass from its bottom and with a quick move smacked it on top of the insect.
"Ouff." The air was knocked out of Trip's lungs. "Darn, Malcolm, it's only a gnat!"
"Now it's a trapped gnat," Malcolm said with a satisfied chuckle.
Hoshi switched on the light, and hurried to join them.
"Oh, no – I think you missed," she said, her smile falling.
"What? Impossible." Malcolm took a closer look at the glass, still clamped firmly against Trip's chest, and Trip bent his head in an improbable way to try and steal a look too.
"Damn!"
Trip rolled his eyes. "Can I regain possession of my body, please?"
"Wait, Malcolm," Hoshi quickly put in before the man lowered the glass. "It might be able to camouflage; maybe it took on the colour of Trip's T-shirt."
Malcolm raised his scanner, looking like he had suddenly remembered he was carrying one. "Would you look at that," he said with a frown, after a moment. "I think you're right, Hoshi. No wonder you couldn't see it."
He looked quickly around. "Would you hand me that, Ensign?" he asked, with a wave towards a garment folded on Hoshi's chair.
Hoshi blinked. "What – my bra?"
"Oh. No. Maybe not that." Malcolm licked his lips. "I need-"
"Look, you two," Trip broke in with a frustrated sigh that threatened to displace the glass, "Do you mind gettin' this thing off my chest?"
"You have something you want to get off your chest, Commander?" Malcolm teased. "Hand me something to cover the glass with," he instructed Hoshi.
Hoshi retrieved a card from a drawer and handed it to Malcolm, who exchanged it for his scanner with an eager nod.
"Bloody hell, Trip, keep still," he scolded his increasingly fidgety friend.
A moment later he'd slipped the card between Trip's shirt and the glass. Holding the card in place, he finally raised the improvised trap before his eyes, and Hoshi and Trip joined in, peering into it. Slowly, the small insect began to materialise, regaining its light-green hue. Even then, it was quite hard to spot.
"How did you get here, you little bugger?" Malcolm wondered, puzzled.
"I think I know," Hoshi said. "I saw a few of them on that planet."
Trip shot her a frown. "How come I didn't?"
"You must have been too busy taking pictures."
"So it transported back with you," Malcolm reasoned. "It must have been caught in your hair, or your uniform."
"Well, mission accomplished," Trip said, in open satisfaction. "I suppose we ought to bring our prey to Phlox."
"Honestly, sometimes the Doc creeps me out," Trip drawled as they were strolling back from Sickbay. He grimaced. "I mean – it might be only a gnat, but – feedin' it to his Pyrithian bat?"
"Reminds me of when he wanted to feed Sluggo to his menagerie," Hoshi said, rubbing a hand over her tired eyes. "Or when he actually dropped that poor tribble in a cage that held some voracious animal."
Trip made a disgusted sound.
"I'm glad he agreed to keep it safe until we find a new planet for it," Hoshi said.
"Well." With an abrupt change of mood, Trip put on a teasing smile. "Thanks to our Security Officer now we can get a well-deserved rest." He eyed Malcolm, who, uncharacteristically, didn't rise to the bait.
"You two go ahead," the man mumbled, his shifty grey eyes not resting on either of them for more than a fleeting second. "I think I'll get a cup of something."
Hoshi studied his body language pensively. "I'm too awake now to get any sleep, actually," she said, on the spur of the moment. "Think I'll join you."
Heaven, she'd give anything to crawl under the covers, but something was definitely up with Malcolm, and the man had just done her a big favour.
Trip scratched his head.
"Nothing like a cup of something warm to get you nice and relaxed," Hoshi quickly put in, making sure her smile carried a warning to shut up.
Trip's puzzled gaze shifted from Hoshi to Malcolm. "Hell, maybe I'll have a glass of milk too," he mumbled, as if he was afraid to miss something if he didn't go along.
Malcolm gave them both a tight smile, and led the way to the Messhall.
A few minutes later they were settling at a table. Trip shot Hoshi a glance that said 'Why-are-we-here?' and she flicked her eyes meaningfully towards Malcolm, who was already hiding behind the rim of his cup of tea.
"So," Hoshi said nonchalantly, "You said we didn't wake you up?"
Knowing grey eyes slowly lifted. "All right," Malcolm sighed, sounding resigned. He replaced his cup on the table and leaned back. "Yes, you didn't wake me up, and no, I wasn't sleeping because…" One hand pulling self-consciously on his neck, he quietly added, "Well, the truth is I can't shake a feeling of guilt. I keep thinking about those eight point three seconds, when you were trapped in the transporter's buffer." He winced. "I was working the damn thing, and... I could have lost you."
She should have known. Hoshi captured the grey gaze. "It was that storm, Malcolm," she said firmly, as she had before to Trip. "You did nothing wrong. In fact, you managed to re-materialise me despite that glitch."
Malcolm shot a glance at the Engineer. "If Trip had been in my place, perhaps he would have done a better job; perhaps all you went through could have been avoided."
"Nah," Trip said, shaking his head. "I'm sure I'd have encountered your same problems, Malcolm. Hoshi's right: it was that storm, and you did nice work."
Malcolm smirked, still looking unconvinced.
"You guys are sweet," Hoshi said, looking warmly from one to the other. "Here you go, beating yourselves up for something that was really all my fault."
"Your fault?" the two men exclaimed together.
"Because of my fear of transporting back I wasted too much time on that planet," Hoshi said uneasily. "That storm was travelling fast, and my indecision…" She looked at Trip. "Well, it forced you to comply with my stupid whim, and..." She turned to Malcolm. "And made you operate the transporter in the worst possible conditions." Straightening her shoulders, she added, in a more convinced tone of voice, "I promise I will show a bit more courage, next time."
Grey and blue eyes met, before shifting to her. Hoshi gave her friends a confident smile, which dissipated the last clouds in their gazes.
"Okay," Trip said, clapping both hands together. "Enough with this heavy mood. I know what we need right now." He started to rise.
Hoshi watched with pleasure as a sparkle entered his eyes. "What?" she enquired in anticipation.
"Midnight munchies," Trip announced. "And I mean goodies. There's nothin' like a bit of sugar to make ya feel better." He walked over to the serving cabinet. "What'll you have? Pie, cookies, pudding... ah, look at that, Lieutenant, there's even pineapple cake."
Malcolm rolled his eyes. "Heaven forbid! If I ate any of that now I definitely wouldn't be able to sleep."
"Spoilsport," Trip countered.
The door opened and T'Pol glided in.
"Good evening," she greeted.
"Subcommander," they replied in a chorus, like schoolchildren.
T'Pol's gaze shifted between Trip and the only occupied table, where it lingered for a long moment. "Is anything the matter?" she enquired in slight Vulcan puzzlement.
Hoshi exchanged a look with Malcolm. "Not any more," she replied, matter-of-factly. "There was a..." Suddenly the funny side of the whole affair was all that she could see, and she guffawed into a chortle. "… a mosquito in my quarters, so Commander Tucker called…" She couldn't repress another snort. "… Security." Finally managing a straight face, she concluded, "Lieutenant Reed hunted it down and captured it."
Beside her, Malcolm shifted uncomfortably in his seat, while T'Pol's eyebrows finally lifted. "And where is the... specimen now?" she simply enquired.
"Phlox has it in custody, until we can find it a better home."
T'Pol considered the words for a moment; then walked over to the drink dispenser and ordered a mint tea.
"Aren't ya gonna ask how the thing got on board?" Trip wondered.
"It's hardly necessary, Commander." The Vulcan turned to him. "It can only have transported back with Ensign Sato." Another lift of her eyebrows, practically the only ever mobile thing on her face, accompanied that straight reasoning. With that she turned to leave.
"Care to sit with us for midnight munchies, Subcommander?" Trip quickly put in.
T'Pol blinked. "That would be illogical, since it is long past midnight." Her eyes dropped to the sweets on Trip's tray and blinked again. "No, thank you." With a quiet, "Good-night," she left.
Hardly had the doors closed behind her, than Hoshi broke into long-repressed giggles.
"Sorry, guys." She put a hand in front of her mouth and finally sobered up. "Must be the tension. It does that to me sometimes."
The fit, at least, had managed to bring a smile to even Malcolm's face.
"Go ahead, Ensign," he said, finally looking relaxed. "We don't mind."
"Here."
With a flourish, Trip placed a tray loaded with different kinds of goodies in the middle of the table. He picked up a cookie and tossed it into his mouth, munching contentedly in spite of Malcolm's critical gaze; then, he picked up his glass of milk and raised it.
"To Cyrus Pansy," he toasted.
Hoshi rolled her eyes. "Ramsey," she corrected. "And am I ever relieved he never existed!" She raised her chamomile tea. "To good friends."
"Yeah, especially Pest Control Officers," Trip added.
Malcolm groaned; then lifted his cup as well. "Hear, hear," he chuckled; and with a light-hearted shrug he reached for the pineapple cake.
THE END
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