Following the encouraging reviews to my first story I was inspired to try again

Following the encouraging reviews to my first story I was inspired to try again.

My beta readers were Sita Z and Rusty Armour, thank you, girls! I also want to thank again my friend Cheryl, who gave me the first push in this fun thing that is called writing. Love you!

Disclaimer: Too bad Star Trek and all the Enterprise characters belong to Paramount…

Belief and Trust

Captain Jonathan Archer looked out of his ready room's porthole at the stars streaking past. The sight had always managed to have a calming effect on him, but not tonight. Recent events had almost been too much to take and he seriously doubted that even Phlox and his hyposprays would be able to help him tonight.

Hold on, Doctor, he silently ordered. This friend will not leave you behind.

Trip's transfer request, a few weeks ago, had taken him totally by surprise. It had wounded him deeply; and left him wondering what kind of an insensitive brute the Expanse had turned him into, not to have noticed his Chief Engineer's troubles. Former Chief Engineer, he bitterly amended.

And now things had gone from bad to worse. He thought of the last few hours and closed his eyes tightly against the memories that threatened to overwhelm him: his CMO abducted; his Tactical Officer being dragged off to the brig; his ship about to explode.

Surely to be left without three senior officers - not to mention three friends - in such a short time was enough to drive a starship captain over the edge. The fact that he was still, if barely, in control just went to prove how… callous he had become. Resilient, Archer silently corrected himself again, in an attempt to chase at least some of his demons away.

His mind kept going back to that shocking moment, when he had confronted Reed with his lies. Until the end he had hoped that the lieutenant could offer a plausible explanation for what could only be interpreted as treason. When Reed had drawn his mouth into a thin line and refused to give him any answers, thus effectively confessing his guilt, Archer had felt a stabbing pain, mixed with anger so feral that it had actually frightened him.

Trip wanting off my ship; Malcolm a traitor; T'Pol virtually shaking with emotion. What the hell is the problem with everybody? Is it the extreme experiences of the past year taking their toll, or does it have something to do with me, with the all too obvious changes in my character, with this new, insensitive version of a captain that I have become?

A chime brought him back to the here and now. Someone was asking to enter and he called a tired 'come', turning his head towards the entrance and fully expecting to see T'Pol or Hoshi. To his surprise, the door opened to reveal the familiar form of Commander Charles Tucker the Third.

"Capt'n, uh, may I have a word with you?" Trip asked somewhat nervously.

"Commander. Come in." Archer's voice was monotone, devoid of the warmth and cheerfulness that would have once been there when talking to this particular individual.

"I thought you were on your way to…"

"I was," Trip interrupted. "Sir," he hastily added, sensing that the man in front of him was more Captain Archer than his pal Jon. "But first I must know why Malcolm is locked in the brig."

On his way to the ready room Trip had decided that he wouldn't beat around the bush. He was just too exhausted to tiptoe around.

"You already asked and I believe I already answered," Archer snapped, feeling his anger simmer.

Trip studied his friend – for this was still his friend, he reminded himself – and was deeply troubled by what he saw: a tormented man. So he set aside his qualms and pressed on, forcing himself to speak to Jon. Maybe if he treated Archer like Jon, Jon would come back to inhabit this body before him.

"Come on, Capt'n. You don't actually expect me to accept that, do you? Malcolm is a friend. After all we've gone through together, don't I have a right to know?"

A right to know what's going on when you left the ship?

Archer wanted so much to spit the words out, but bit his tongue. He had enough on his mind at the moment without digging that up. But his temper had now reached boiling point, so he didn't refrain from taking revenge for some of the pain that had been inflicted lately.

"Do you have that right, Commander?"

He paused for dramatic effect and then growled, "I have neither the time nor the desire to go into detail, but hear this about your friend: he is a dammed traitor. He lied to his captain, put this ship in danger, risked the lives of her crew, and hindered our rescue mission! And to top it all, he refuses to say a blasted word about his disgraceful behaviour! Is that enough for you, Commander?"

Trip paled visibly, eyes wide open and mouth gaping. Archer almost gave a satisfied laugh. Let someone else suffer for a change. Then he remembered what Trip had just done to save his ship, generously risking his life in that frightening climb from Columbia to Enterprise as both ships shared the same warp-field, and felt disgusted with himself. Something that seems to be happening a bit too often these days, he thought with regret.

It took Trip a long moment to pull himself together.

"That… can't be true," he stuttered. "You can't actually believe it, Capt'n. We're talkin' about Malcolm here. The man who tried to take his own life, in that Romulan minefield, to save Enterprise and her crew! You can't be serious," he concluded hoarsely.

"I am dead serious, unfortunately." Archer's voice was calmer but had dropped an octave. "Right now, however, I'm afraid I've got no time to waste on Mr Reed – or you for that matter. I have a friend to think about, a rescue operation to plan and no damn Tactical Officer to rely on. So, if you'll forgive me, Commander…"

Trip flinched. This archer's arrow had found its mark alright. He knew that he, too, had let his friend down; he felt a traitor to the bond that had once existed between them. Uncharacteristically, he found himself at a loss for words.

It was the tangible silence that stood between them, and risked pulling them even further apart, that made him find his voice again in the end.

"Capt'n, please. Allow me to talk to him," he pleaded. There's got to be an explanation. There's just got to be. Let me try and find out."

"That stubborn bastard won't say a damn thing. I thought that the past four years had meant something to him. I know we never got close the way you and he did, but I hoped that we at least had mutual respect. I realise now that I've never known the man. He does not even trust me."

In the long pause that followed Trip hardly breathed.

Archer stood up abruptly. "Ten minutes, Commander. No more. Dismissed."

Trip tried to meet Jon's eyes, but the Captain wouldn't look at him, so he just muttered a "Thank you, Sir" and left.

The man just saved Enterprise. I guess I owe him something, Archer mulled, trying to justify his sudden concession.

But he knew deep down that Malcolm Reed wasn't a traitor. Something was very wrong with the lieutenant and if anyone could find out what it was, that person was Trip.

Tucker exited the turbolift with such a determined purpose in his stride that he almost bumped smack into Hoshi, who was standing just outside it.

"Ah, Hoshi, I'm sorry!" he apologized. "I guess I'm not used to finding beautiful ladies in my path."

He thought the ensign could use the compliment right now. After coming on board from Columbia in that unorthodox way, he hadn't had much time for anything other than saving the ship from exploding. And, yet, his well-tuned sensibility had immediately alerted him to how on edge Hoshi was. His friends' troubles were not something that could easily escape him.

To be honest, Trip, right now I wouldn't mind falling into the arms of someone strong. I could use the comfort,the ensign sighed inwardly.

"I thought you were finished running around today, Commander. Is there a new emergency I'm not aware of?" enquired the young linguist. Her lips turned upwards in a tentative smile, but she was sure it looked as contrived as it felt.

"Nah." Trip grimaced. "I'm on my way to the brig."

"Oh!"

A heavy silence fell between them.

"Listen, Hoshi." Trip took a deep breath and, after looking around to make sure no one was coming, asked quietly: "What the hell is the problem with Malcolm? Do you know? I asked the Capt'n but he didn't explain much. He mentioned somethin' about him being a traitor! That doesn't make any sense."

If Trip had wanted to cheer Hoshi up, he was sure doing a terrific job. At the mention of the Armoury Officer's name, she bit her lip and averted her eyes, looking distraught.

She desperately fought back the tears that threatened to flow. And she couldn't prevent her usual mellow voice from sounding choked as she stammered, "Commander…"

"It's Trip, Hoshi. I'm not asking the ensign, here. I'm asking the friend."

"Trip."

A long pause ensued as the linguist tried to regain her composure.

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she continued: "All I can tell you is that the man in the brig is not the Malcolm I know. That we know. And that it was me, of all people, who put him in there!"

The anguish in her voice sent a shiver down Trip's spine.

Hoshi knew she was losing her battle with emotion and looked longingly at the turbolift, as if once inside it she could be transported to some far-off place where none of this existed – xenophobia, danger, pain... even Malcolm and the Enterprise – instead of to the bridge.

Trip gently took her hands in his.

"Look, Hosh, forget I ever asked, okay? Things will get better. And if they don't, I'll find a way to fix 'em. I promise. Just keep that lovely smile of yours shinin' for me, will you?"

Trip pulled her into a warm hug and Hoshi found that she could no longer keep her tears from falling.

"I'm not having much success at the moment," she sobbed against him.

She allowed herself a fleeting moment of oblivion, listening to the soothing sound of Trip's heartbeat. Then, with a sigh, she pushed away, embarrassed by the thought that someone might catch them like this and assume that there was more behind the embrace than one friend trying to ease the burden of the other.

Hoshi quickly pressed both her forearms to her face, dabbing away the salty wetness. Then she looked into Trip's concerned eyes and gave him what was probably the most pathetic smile the man had ever seen, for Trip only offered a faint smile and shook his head. The worry was still there, in those very blue eyes of his, as he said, "That a girl!"

The corridor leading to the brig seemed interminable. And it was just as well because, all of a sudden, Trip felt a twinge of anxiousness at the thought of seeing his friend in there. He unconsciously slowed down, realising he hadn't even figured out what on earth he would say to him.

Hell! It's no use. I'm no good at plannin' things. Never was and never will be. And even if I try, I'll get outsmarted by the ship's tactician. I'll just have to play it by ear, as usual.

One of those burly MACOs Malcolm was so fond of was standing in front of the brig, all senses alert, as if he were guarding a nefarious criminal.

As he got closer, Trip straightened his shoulders. Those guys had always had the power to intimidate him slightly and he wanted to make sure that this particular MACO wouldn't be able to read him.

"Commander."

"Corporal. I am here to see…" He was going to say the prisoner, but wincing inwardly at the choice of words, he stopped himself just in time. "…Lieutenant Reed."

"Sir?"

"I have Captain Archer's permission."

Corporal -- What was the guy's name? -- didn't seem convinced.

"Sir, my orders are that no one is to be allowed to see Lieutenant Reed. Could you please show me the Captain's authorization?"

Trip was itching to give him a good shove and push past him, but he'd certainly end up in sickbay or, at best, in the brig as Mal's partner in crime, and he couldn't afford that right now. Right now his buddy needed a friend, not a hot-tempered fool, so he heaved a deep sigh and patiently explained: "Corporal…" He waved a hand in the air, trying to recall the man's name.

"Ramirez, sir."

"Right. Corporal Ramirez. I'm coming straight from the Captain's ready room. He gave me verbal authorization to talk to Lieutenant Reed. Now, if you don't trust my word" – he made sure to put extra stress on the verb – "you're welcome to com the Captain and check for yourself. No problem. But let me warn you: Captain Archer wasn't in the mood to be disturbed. He's in the middle of a critical situation. I'm sure I don't have to remind you of that."

Corporal Ramirez finally seemed ready to comply and, with a curt nod, turned towards the cell's door.

Trip's heart missed a beat as the man's movement allowed him to catch his first glimpse of Malcolm. His friend was sitting on the board that served as a bed, with his back half turned to the door, one leg up, his foot resting on the edge of the bunk. His head was leaning against the wall and Trip thought that his eyes were closed.

Although his posture looked fairly relaxed, Trip sensed that his friend was far from that. He knew that there were moments when Malcolm loved his silence, but he doubted that even he could appreciate the brig's muffled environment. There was silence and then there was silence.

Since the brig was soundproof, Malcolm had remained oblivious of Trip's arrival. So when Corporal Ramirez unlocked the cell, the sudden noise made him jump and turn sharply.

He saw Trip, briefly met his scrutinizing gaze then quickly lowered his eyes. Trip entered.

Before locking the door behind him, Ramirez nodded in stiff, military fashion and felt the need to add, "I'll be outside, Commander. In case you need me, sir."

Yeah, sure. I'll let you know if Mal here tries to attack me. Sheesh! I know the man can be fairly dangerous, but it's not as if he turned into a criminal overnight. And you're still talkin' about your CO, you jerk!

Malcolm lowered his foot to the floor, leaned forward and grabbed the edge of the bunk with both hands, bracing against a ridiculous feeling of unease.

This is Trip, he reminded himself, so he turned his head towards his friend. "Well, Commander, have you come to watch the rarest exhibit of the zoo?" Malcolm joked. Security-Officer-locked-in-cage-of-his-very-own-design? Feeding time was half an hour ago, I'm afraid, but don't worry. You didn't miss much. This particular specimen hasn't had much of an appetite, lately."

No kiddin',thought Trip, as he glanced at the mangled food on the tray lying on the floor.

"Cut the crap, Malcolm, will you?" Trip made sure the words were accompanied by a smile and he was rewarded with a trademark Reed smirk.

There was an awkward pause.

"So, how did you enjoy your little stunt? Not the most comfortable way to come on board, I'd say."

Malcolm had wanted to steer the conversation away from dangerous ground, but recalling the memory of that daredevil climb between two ships going at warp speed made him suddenly nauseous and he cursed himself for bringing it up. When he had realised the tether wasn't going to hold, he had been terrified. He would have jumped out of his skin to get Trip to the safety of the platform more quickly. Of course, if Trip had died, none of them would be here to talk about it, but at the time, strangely enough, the thought had not occurred to him. He had only been scared stiff about seeing his friend plunge into the nothingness of space.

"Yeah, well, a bit tough on the biceps, but the view was stunnin'. You oughta try it some day."

Reed sniggered. "Oh, no, thank you. Not unless you get me 'stunning' drunk first."

"That can easily be arranged, Lieutenant. After all, it doesn't take much to get you completely pissed, if I recall."

They looked at each other and this time neither gaze faltered.

Damn, I missed this, Reed thought with a twinge of sadness.

How can a brig feel so much like home? Trip wondered with a frown. Turning serious, he charged head on, "I want to know what's goin' on here, Malcolm."

Tension immediately charged the air.

"Trip, don't ask."

"Before we separated, after I came on board, you promised you'd tell me."

"You had an impossible task ahead of you and I didn't want to add to your worries. Besides, not that I ever doubted your engineering skills, but I honestly thought we would end up blown to pieces."

"Don't expect me to back off, Lieutenant," Trip persisted.

"Suit yourself, Commander. I, unlike you, have all the time in the world, in case you haven't noticed," Reed ground out.

"You're right. The Capt'n only gave me ten minutes. So why don't you start explaining a few things, like what kind of lies you've told him, for example."

"It's none of your business."

"It is my business; I'm your friend, I wanna help."

"You can't help me, so would you please cease and desist."

"This is eating away at you. I can see that. You'll feel a whole lot better if you share the burden. Hell, haven't you learned anything these past four years? What did you do? What information did you hide from the Capt'n? And, more importantly, why in heaven's name did you do it?"

"Trip, stop it," Reed growled, and his voice had such a ring of finality to it that the engineer felt his temper boil over.

"Dammit, Malcolm! I'm not gonna stand around while you throw a distinguished career out the window!"

Malcolm sprang up from the bunk he'd been sitting on and confronted Trip angrily.

"Don't you think I would talk if I could? Stop asking me things I cannot answer, if you are my friend!"

Trip stared at Malcolm's shaking body, shocked at the pained vehemence of his words.

The man's stance looked aggressive enough to attract the full attention of Corporal Ramirez, who opened the channel to the cell and enquired: "Is there a problem, sir?"

"No. No. No problem at all! Everythin's just fine, Corporal, "Trip spat out, louder than he had intended. "Stop worrying so much about what's goin' on in here and keep your military nose out of our business! You should know Lieutenant Reed well enough to understand that he's not likely to kill me, for heaven's sake!"

Ramirez looked ready to explode but, mercifully, his training kicked in and he just nodded coldly and turned away.

Malcolm could not hide his grin. How Trip could make him so angry one moment and amused the next, he'd never understand.

"I say, Commander, that was music to my ears. But allow me to disagree about who is likely to kill whom."

Trip shook his head in disbelief. I must be going insane. I had no right to treat the guy like that. I must apologise when this is over.

The engineer couldn't help wondering if Ramirez's pigheaded scrupulousness would rekindle Malcolm's initial antagonism towards the MACOs. After Hayes's death the Lieutenant had effectively become their CO. That and the men's dedication to their mission in the Expanse had definitely changed his attitude towards them. Yet they and Reed remained profoundly different. The MACOs were all yes sir, no sir. All so damn brawny and martial and ready to follow orders unquestioningly.

Malcolm had military training too, but he was not the same. To begin with, his slim, if well-muscled frame, didn't make him look like some kind of super-fighter, and, most importantly, he never acted in such a detached, almost robot-like way.

Malcolm's feelings, if you knew where to look, were not so hard to find. Trip knew they were in his expressive blue-grey eyes, in his smirks, in the tilting of his head, the way he crossed his arms over his chest: imperceptible movements that he doubted even the man himself was aware of.

Flashes of the past four years passed unbidden through Trip's mind: Malcolm working his butt off to get the new cannons online; Malcolm, embarrassed and surprised, cutting his birthday cake; Malcolm, pale and shivering, pointing a phase pistol at him; standing at attention by his side in Archer's ready room, receiving the dressing-down of his life for being his unwilling – or was it willing? – 'accomplice'; Malcolm's overheated and half-conscious body being carried off to sickbay; Malcolm dragging him along the corridors of that ship they had been stranded on.

Trip mused that if it had been Ramirez at his side on that occasion, the corporal would have certainly obeyed his order and let him meet his untimely death. Not Malcolm. He'd risked blowing up with the damn alien ship but had not left his friend behind.

Perhaps because those memories were so vivid in his mind, or because the man in front of him, despite their bantering, looked so… lost, so unlike the posed lieutenant he had come to know, he blurted out, "I missed ya."

"Really? So soon?" Reed smiled mischievously. "Me too, sweetheart."

Trip's expression immediately became miserable as his thoughts went straight to T'Pol.

"Bloody idiot that I am," Malcolm cursed. "Sorry."

"Ah, don't worry about it."

Malcolm took a deep breath. "She misses you, you know?"

He sounded quite sure about it. Trip refrained from telling him that he already knew.

"And she definitely has a lovely bum."

"And what would you know about it?"

"About the missing part or about the bum?" enquired Malcolm with a wicked glint in his eyes.

"About both."

"Well, you did leave her, so she came to me for comfort…"

At Trip's look of disbelief, Malcolm grinned. "Gotcha!"

Trip shook his head. "I hope you checked this cell for bugs. I wouldn't want T'Pol to be listening to us right now."

Malcolm rolled his eyes. Then he sighed, turning serious again. "Look, if anyone can read between the lines of an impassive face, it's me. I see one every morning reflected in the mirror. She does miss you."

"Your face is far from impassive. And I had to leave. This thing between us was goin' nowhere and I couldn't take it any longer. It was beginnin' to affect my work."

All of a sudden, and to Trip's utter surprise, Malcolm was singing softly. "'Is there anybody going to listen to my story, all about the girl who came to stay' – with Starfleet, that is."

"Wha... ?"

"It's an old song. A few lines of it fit T'Pol like a glove."

"I didn't know you could sing."

"Sorry to disappoint you, my friend, but there are quite a few things about me you still don't know." One of them is what got me into this sodding fix , he thought bitterly.

"What lines?" Trip frowned suspiciously.

Malcolm took a moment, then resumed. He had a tuneful baritone voice. "'She's the kind of girl you want so much it makes you sorry. Still you don't regret a single day.'"

"Dead on, dammit."

"'She's the kind of girl who puts you down when friends are there, you feel a fool.'"

"Well, perhaps unintentionally, but she has done that a few times."

"'When you say she's looking good she acts as if it's understood. She's coo—oo—oo—ool…'"

"Cool? Damn icy."

Malcolm stopped and regarded Trip thoughtfully, his head tilted to one side. "Who knows? Perhaps the Vulcans did make contact earlier than they claim and it was T'Pol who inspired that song."

"Nah, she's not that old."

"You can't be sure of that. Vulcans live longer."

"I'm tellin' ya, she's not that old."

"You know her age?" Malcolm's eyebrows shot up. "You do know her age. You old fox! And you never told me!"

"It's confidential information. She let it slip when things looked a bit more hopeful for us."

Reed pondered the situation. "Things can work out between you two. You just have to want it. Where there's a will there's a way."

"Well, perhaps that's the problem. We both have to want it, don't we?"

They fell silent. Then Reed sighed, his own thoughts apparently straying. "Ah, love! How can such a blessing be such a curse…?" he wondered aloud.

"Yeah..."

There was a beat of silence.

Reed swallowed past a painful lump in his throat. "You left just when I was finally becoming fairly good at this 'opening up' business. I had to work hard at it, you know? You could have at least given me a little warning."

Trip felt guilt tug at his conscience. Here was another friend he had let down. If he had been on Enterprise, who knows? Maybe Malcolm would've come to him for advice and wouldn't be in this mess now.

"Trade secrets? How 'bout that." he almost pleaded. "I tell ya my secret and you tell me yours."

"And what possible secret could you reveal to me, Commander?"

"Is it a deal?"

"I can't, Trip. I believe I already told you." Malcolm was getting angry again.

"Dammit, Malcolm, you can't do this to the Capt'n, to yourself! Who the hell is this bastard who has you in such an iron grip?"

Malcolm's eyes widened in surprise.

"Well, it doesn't take a genius to know that you wouldn't do anythin' even close to this of your own free will! I can't believe that you, of all people, could betray this ship!"

"Betray!" It came out as a strangled cry. "Is that what you think? What everybody thinks?" In a tormented gesture, Malcolm intertwined his hands behind his head and began to pace. "Phlox is my friend! I'd never willingly put his life in danger! And this is Enterprise! The crew I'm supposed to keep safe! The captain I swore to defend! he cried out in anguish. "I see you had a little chat with Archer before coming here. He must have told you what a traitor I am! How I disgraced my uniform!"

Then in a wounded voice he added, "I thought that he believed in me. But apparently I was wrong. What he believes is that I am guilty of something despicable. I'd rather be dead than be accused of…" His voice cracked and he couldn't finish.

Trip struggled to find a way to reach out to his friend. This was proving very hard, indeed. Perhaps because his own feelings were scrambled.

"Malcolm, the Capt'n is hurtin'. Frankly, you're not the only one to blame. I hurt him too, wantin' that transfer. And now this. Two of his closest friends, two people who went through thick'n thin with him, let him down, one after the other.

"A member of his crew has been abducted, is in danger, and the man who oughta help him organise his rescue looks like he's hinderin' it instead. How would you feel? Belief goes hand in hand with trust. I don't know what made you do what you did, and if you don't want to tell me I won't ask ya again. But I think you owe the Capt'n your loyalty, your trust."

Reed had stopped pacing and looked deeply affected by these words. Suddenly he couldn't keep it all inside any longer.

"This is a question of loyalties, Trip," he choked out. "And it is tearing me apart. There is nothing more I'd like than to tell Captain Archer everything. But my hands are tied."

Trip couldn't ever remember seeing Reed look so insecure. The man had been calm and collected, had known exactly what to do, even under the most stressful circumstances.

"If your hands are tied, then break the ties. If your loyalties are divided, then ask yourself where you want to place your trust."

Malcolm had closed his eyes.

"Look, just promise me that you'll think about it, okay?"

Reed looked into Trip's concerned gaze and straightened his shoulders.

"All right, I will. I promise."

"I gotta go now. I stayed longer than I was supposed to."

He went up to Malcolm for a friendly punch on the shoulder. "You'll do the right thing, Lieutenant. I know it. I believe in you."

As Trip turned to leave, Malcolm grabbed his arm, stopping him. "Trip, wait. What was that secret you were going to tell me... ?"

"Hmm. We don't have a deal that I can remember."

"Come on. I practically told you everything. And my promise to think about what you said… Won't that count for anything?"

Trip narrowed his eyes and studied Malcolm. Definitely an improvement there…

He grinned.

"Well, then?" Reed insisted.

Trip tried to sound casual. "I'm comin' back to Enterprise. Well… that is if Captain Hernandez lets go of me. But I don't think she'll make any trouble. She and the Capt'n are friends."

This was the greatest piece of news Malcolm could hope to hear and his 'impassive' face relaxed into a wide smile.

Trip winked. "See ya around."

"Jolly good, my friend."

The Commander caught the attention of Ramirez, who let him out.

After the door was locked again, Malcolm leaned against it with both hands, watching Trip walk away.

Thank you, he said silently.

THE END