Author's note: A little something for that holiday in the middle of February.
It had been a lousy day, so the sight of what was outside Hoshi's cabin door as she returned from an incredibly long, frustrating duty shift did nothing to improve her mood.
The day had started off badly almost as soon as she'd arrived on the bridge. Her console had shorted out -- not once, not twice, but three times. And that was after Trip had told her he'd fixed the damage to it from a run-in they'd had with some Nausicaan pirates the day before.
Then Captain Archer had wanted her to translate some information he'd been sent -- in Cordineese -- about some type of game that resembled water polo. He'd told her it wasn't a high priority, but he'd kept hanging around her console and checking with her until she'd gotten it done between the second and third times her console had shorted out.
And then, when she'd stopped by the quartermaster's before lunch, she'd been told the ship's supply of chocolate had been completely depleted. Chef had requisitioned the last of it to make chocolate cheesecake. Temporarily cheered, she'd rushed to the mess hall, anticipating savoring a slice of her favorite dessert, only to find Travis eating the last piece and not looking the least repentant about it.
It was a wonder she hadn't seriously hurt anybody after she'd returned to the bridge for the second half of her shift. The rest of the bridge crew had picked up on her mood and had left her alone. Even the captain had kept his distance, but only because he was oblivious, engrossed in reviewing the translation she'd labored over without receiving hardly a word of thanks.
And to top it all off, a number of crewmen had been in irritatingly good moods all day. They were the ones she'd seen in the mess hall receiving cards in red envelopes, or sporting red carnations on their lapels.
Hoshi decided she hated red. The color that best fit her mood right now was green -- for envy. She hadn't received a single card or flower all day.
So when Hoshi rounded the last corner before her cabin and saw what looked like a wad of dark paper in front of her door, her first reaction was that she was going to find out who it belonged to and stuff it down the commode in their quarters. Let them see how they liked litter messing up their living area!
But as she approached, she saw that it wasn't trash, but a package about the size of a book. The wrapping was common brown paper, tied up with string. Her anger changing to curiosity, she picked it up. It wasn't very heavy. She shook it. Something slid around inside. She looked more closely at the package. There was no indication who it was from. She tried to undo the knot in the string, but it was tied so tightly that she was going to have to cut it.
She entered her cabin, found a pair of scissors in her desk drawer, and snipped the string. She pulled the paper away to reveal a box, the kind clothing might be put in for a present. Her curiosity mounting, she opened the box.
Nestled on some blue fabric was one perfect chocolate bar, its red foil wrapper sparkling in the light. Hoshi licked her lips as she set the bar aside and looked to see if there was anything else in the box. She picked up the fabric which, when she shook it out, revealed itself to be a regulation woman's camisole-type undershirt. A small thrill ran through her. Even though it was Starfleet issue, the shirt was an intimate item to be giving someone as a present.
A small card had fluttered to the desk when she'd shaken out the shirt. She picked it up. It read: You returned the shirt you borrowed from me. The least I could do was find the one you lost and return it to you. Happy Valentine's Day.
She hadn't ever thought about going back to retrieve her shirt after she'd lost it climbing out of the ventilation system when the Suliban had taken over Enterprise. The shirt had gotten hung up on the inside of a grate opening, forcing her to slip out of it. As far as she had been concerned, it could stay there until it rotted, because nothing short of another major emergency would induce her to crawl around in that cramped space again.
There was no signature on the card, but there was only one person who knew she'd lost that shirt -- and how. She also knew that he was a gentleman and would never have told anyone else about it.
A laugh escaped her as she remembered the startled look on Malcolm's face when she'd shown up, nothing covering her from the waist up but her strategically placed hands, at his cabin door. He'd been so surprised that she'd practically had to order him to give her a shirt. He had given her one of his, of course, and he'd even turned around without being asked so she could slip it on with a modicum of privacy.
She put down the card and reached for the chocolate bar. She began to peel back the wrapper, revealing the luscious treat within, but stopped. She hadn't thought to give Malcolm anything for Valentine's Day. Maybe he'd like to share the chocolate with her.
Heading back out of her cabin with the red-foil wrapped bar in her hand, Hoshi decided she liked the color red after all.