Disclaimer: I do not own the characters already depicted in Star Trek: Enterprise, and I'm not making any money off this story. The character Hess (other than the name which belongs to Paramount…) belongs to Cha Oseye Tempest Thrain, to whom I say thanks for loaning me your character. If you enjoy Hess' role in this story, please read Cha's Hess stories available also at this site.
A/N: This story was written in response to PHP's challenge on the Connor Trinneer forum: "Write a story about Easter on the Enterprise, Trip and Reed planning something secretly (it's up to you what they are planning) and someone sings a song for someone else..."
A/N2: Huge thanks to sailorcoruscant for beta reading this...
Malcolm and Trip stood in sickbay, looking down at one of the cages.
"What on Earth is that?" Malcolm asked with mild disgust in his tone.
"Phlox said that it was a Pyrellian rat. He said we could use it, actually, he sounded quite excited." Trip looked thoughtfully at the helpless creature. "We could name it Peter."
Malcolm looked at him curiously, one eyebrow raised in query.
Trip grinned and started singing, "Here comes Peter Cotton-tail..."
"No more singing or you're doing this on your own." Malcolm looked into the cage again. "I suppose it's interesting..."
"It looks like a rabbit," Trip hurriedly said, anxious about using one of Phlox's strange creatures, "well, sort of, anyway. And otherwise we've got to go back to Plan A, which you have to agree isn't very original. And I'm not sure the Captain will ever forgive me for humiliating his dog."
"There is always a Plan C." Malcolm leaned over the cage, trying to get a closer look at the newly-dubbed Peter. He glanced back at Trip. "Use the real deal."
"Nuh, uh," Trip put his hands up, "I'm not getting involved with that for several reasons. One: she would kill me; two: Igor is named Igor for a very good reason; three: no one but you, me and the Captain know about Igor and four: she would kill me. I want to stay 'the boy' and not become 'the dead boy', thank you."
Malcolm was facing the cage again and didn't see the look of speculation that crossed Trip's face. After a few seconds of thoughtful contemplation Trip shook his head and muttered, "It wouldn't look right with the boots."
"Hmm?" Malcolm tentatively poked a finger into the cage, not looking up.
"Nothing. What are you doing?" The last was said with some alarm.
"Phlox said it was harmless, didn't he?" Malcolm stretched his hand so that the finger lightly touched the top of Peter's head. "I think he likes me." A surprisingly loud purring noise was emanating from deep within the cage.
"What the hell!" They both jumped in shock, Malcolm snatching his hand away, as the cage suddenly shook and growled.
Malcolm checked his hand to make sure all digits were still attached and undamaged. "Somehow I think the Easter Bunny from Hell is a no go."
"Phlox is going to be disappointed," Trip sighed. "I guess it's back to Plan A then."
Malcolm started to smirk. "There's always a Plan D. Easter is about rebirth and life isn't it? Who's the one crewmember who has been pregnant?..."
Trip shook his head rapidly, quickly catching his friend's drift. "Nuh uh. No way in Hell, Malcolm."
"It was just an idea," Malcolm's smirk had widened into a truly evil monstrousity. "True, you might have been more appropriate for Christmas..."
"Isn't he just adorable?"
Malcolm had suspected that the female crewmembers would react this way. The Captain and Porthos walked over to him, the beagle sniffing thoughtfully at Malcolm before wandering off to greet other people.
"I think it turned out quite well, don't you?" the Captain asked.
Malcolm watched 'the Easter Bunny' perform its antics. "Definitely."
"By the way," Archer said, "thanks for the tip off about Porthos. I don't know if he would have recovered from such humiliation."
Malcolm smiled smugly, enjoying the festivities.
"That's it! The next person who tries to touch my tail..."
Malcolm sniggered as 'the Easter Bunny' hurried over to the drinks table and downed one in a long gulp, his floppy ears swinging in rhythm with the movement.
"Yes, I think it turned out very well."