Title: The Visit
Author: M. Edison
Archive: Please ask first.
Season: Season1 Enterprise. AU for 2 Days & 2 Nights.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Season1ish
Keywords: AU, Malcolm, Risa, Vulcan. OC
Disclaimer: Enterprise and its characters are the property of Paramount/Viacom, etc.
Summary: On Risa, Malcolm runs into a familiar face.
3rd in the Heather series. Stories 1 (The Letter) and 2 (The Reply) can be found on the Trek page of my section of
Triple Threat.
Author's Note: This story was an attempt to reconcile Enterprise Vulcans with TOS/TNG/Voy Vulcans...interesting work.
Some of the research comes from novels like 'Spock's World' which, I think, the Enterprise writers should consider
their 'idiot's guide to Vulcan'. Yeesh
"The Visit"
by M.
*****
He was having breakfast when he saw her: Sitting at another table, her back was to him, causing a familiar old ache to
rise in his throat. With her hair cut in that style, and if he hadn't known where his friend was, he would have sworn
it was Heather Grayson.
But it couldn't be. Heather's work kept her very busy and, according to her letter, she only left Vulcan when she
accompanied the Ambassador on diplomatic trips. It couldn't be her, he told himself with a brisk shake of his head, and
returned his attention to the nearly decadent meal before him. The Risan people certainly knew how to take care of their
guests, as he'd never eaten so well in his life – the food was positively delicious.
"Malcolm?"
The fork froze halfway to his mouth and so did he. It was impossible. There was no way he'd just heard Heather's voice.
Setting down the fork, he straightened up and turned slowly to find her standing there, smiling at him. "Heather?" An
answering smile on his own face, the Englishman pushed quickly to his feet and immediately pulled her into a warm hug.
They lingered that way for several minutes before she pulled back, beaming up at him, her smile a feast for his eyes.
"Surprise!"
He started to repeat her then opted to skip right to the inevitable, "How did you know? I mentioned it in my letter but
I didn't think that it had made it to Vulcan yet."
"It hasn't." She answered as he pulled out a chair for her. "I found out on my own via the Ambassador's resources. I made
a few discreet inquiries and got my answer." Subtle amusement lit her eyes. "I'm sure somewhere in Starfleet, someone is
wondering what on Earth would have Selish asking about Enterprise's whereabouts."
Seating himself, Malcolm didn't bother to suppress his smile. "Someone most certainly is. To what do I owe the honor of
your visit?"
Heather smiled. "I missed you. Trading letters reminded me of that and Selish has been telling me I needed a vacation.
Finding out you were headed for Risa made it the perfect opportunity. He had me booked on the first transport leaving for
here."
"Your Ambassador's been after you to take a vacation, Sub-commander T'Pol's been telling us we needed shore leave...Why
is it the Vulcans are so dead set on us relaxing while acting as if they're above it all themselves?" He watched his old
friend's smile turn to one of bemusement. "By that smile, I suppose, you've an answer for me?"
She glanced up at an approaching waiter, pausing to order and nod politely, before turning her gaze back to Malcolm.
"Vulcans find the idea of expending energy in order to rest quite illogical. If a Vulcan wishes to rest, they *rest*. By
sleeping, meditating, or otherwise just conserving their energy. Truthfully," she shrugged lightly. "the majority of
Vulcans don't see the need to take a vacation. Their daily meditations take care of relieving stress for them. They don't
build it up in the same way humans do." She blushed, noticing the amused expression Malcolm wore. "Sorry, when I get to
talking about Vulcans I tend to ramble."
"Really?" He deadpanned. "I hadn't noticed."
"Sure you did." she countered gamely. "But, as always, you're too much of a gentleman to say anything."
"That, or I've just missed having an actual face-to-face conversation with you instead of trading letters back and forth,"
he teased, drawing another light blush from her.
"Flatterer," Heather accused, smiling nevertheless. "So, I hear you had a bit of an adventure lately?"
"Just one?" Malcolm murmured under his breath with a near chuckle. "Which one would you be referring to?"
"Enterprise saved Ambassador V'Lar's life! It's the big subject of conversation on Vulcan these days. *Especially* in the
political and diplomatic circles. Humans risking their lives to save a Vulcan?" She smiled, leaning back to allow the
waiter to place her breakfast and something that resembled tea, before her. "That's impressed a few people, believe me.
Selish mentioned the High Council has been discussing it quite favorably. After the P'Jem debacle, this was exactly what
was needed – it's smoothing some ruffled feathers quite nicely."
Cautiously, he met her gaze. Living on Vulcan meant Heather had literally been forced to deal with fallout from P'Jem on
her own, without the benefit of Starfleet Admirals to back her up. "Debacle?"
She sighed, setting down her drink. "I'm sorry, Malcolm, I probably shouldn't have even mentioned it, but you can't imagine
the kind of reaction that engendered on Vulcan."
"Anger?"
"Not that they'll admit or show any signs of. What I have seen is shock, disappointment, grief...among the religious
community...horror." Heather picked at her breakfast. "Logically, they know the Andorians made the decision to destroy the
sanctuary but some of the responsibility they believe, and in truth so do I, lies with your captain."
"You mean the blame," he said automatically.
"No, I mean *responsibility*," his friend responded firmly. "If I truly meant blame then I would say so. Any Vulcan that
would stoop to an emotion as ugly as blame isn't much of a Vulcan, and any of them will say so quite honestly." She
smiled. "Cthia demands honesty, with oneself and with the world about you."
"Cthia?"
"The way of Truth or the Path of Logic," Heather elaborated. "It can be used to refer to the guidelines set down by Surak
millennia ago that govern Vulcan society. I can't speak for Ambassador Soval," her eyes narrowed slightly, a sure sign of
her displeasure with the subject, "but the majority of Vulcans do not 'blame' Captain Archer. They do, however, believe he
is in part responsible for the sanctuary's destruction. To accept that truth would be the most honorable choice he can
make at this point."
"Honorable?"
She nodded. "It can't be undone, thus the only logical choice is to accept his measure of responsibility, apologize, and
move on."
"Logical? Heather, you sound more like one of them," he pointed out, stealing a slice of a pineapple-like fruit off her
plate.
She smacked at his hand and retaliated by stealing a slice of fruit from his. "I suppose I do." She grinned. "When in
Rome...I'm so used to talking with Vulcans I'm afraid I'm a little out of practice in talking with humans." Holding out
her glass mug, she waited for him to take it. "Try this."
Warily, he eyed the liquid, remembering the times she'd 'surprised' him in the past. "What is it?"
"Saya." Seeing he wasn't about to let her get away with just that, she relented and elaborated. "It's a Vulcan drink, sort
of like tea. Try it! I promise you won't go blind."
"Very funny." Malcolm groused lightly.
Heather's warm gaze turned impish and she held the drink against his mouth. "Please..."
Acquiescing, he opened his mouth and allowed the warm liquid to spill across his lips. To his surprise, there was quite a
pleasant taste to saya, something he hadn't expected.
"I know," she murmured, amused, pulling the mug back to take a sip herself. "It probably would shock some people if they
know Vulcans like their food to taste pleasant. I don't doubt it would stupefy them to know Vulcans believe beauty, or in
this case taste, and function aren't the anthesis of each other, that they believe the opposite: Beauty, or the evocation
of pleasure, usually makes it more effective."
He smiled at her unspoken plea for understanding. Vulcan had taught her a great deal about subtlety. "I do believe,
Heather, that place has stolen your heart."
She beamed at him. "It has. If everyone on Earth could get to know these people the way I have..."
"And vice versa...." he agreed.
"If Selish has his way, and he may yet, that might happen. He wants the Vulcan compound on Earth closed down and the
residents to find their own accommodations among the human population – and not congregate together. He believes it is
illogical to judge the maturity of a society with the insufficient data they have gathered through observation. He's
adamant that data won't be complete until Vulcans have experienced Earth for themselves."
"I think I would like your Ambassador."
Heather's smile was impish. "Oh I think you would. He certainly likes you all after hearing his wife's stories."
"His wife?"
"Ambassador V'Lar."
Malcolm shook his head.
He should have known.
-----
That afternoon found the two old friends planning to spend time on the beach outside the house Heather was staying in.
Walking up to the building in question, Malcolm found himself wondering what the Vulcans were paying her that she could
afford to stay in such lavish settings. He definitely planned on inquiring, if only to tease her, but any thoughts of that
nature flew right out of his head when the door slid open to reveal her waiting for him, already in her swimwear.
It was his opinion that Vulcan had been very kind to Heather Grayson's physique. She'd never been unattractive but it
struck him that a few years of living in the harsh climate of Vulcan had burned away all nonessentials, leaving the purest
essence behind. She was beautiful.
What shocked him out of his own admiration was the openly appreciative way that Heather's gaze swept over him. "You look
fantastic," she said without guile, stepping back to let him enter while tying a translucent cover-up about her hips.
"I was thinking the same of you," he confessed softly, adding quickly. "Lovely accommodations you have. Much better than
the hotel..."
"It belongs to Selish." She answered his unspoken question as she moved to stand next to him, her honey blonde hair
brushing his shoulder. "He and V'Lar come here sometimes. They believe time away from Vulcan and their own professional
personas is good for the soul."
"Vulcans spending time on Risa?" Malcolm grinned. "Captain Sopek would be scandalized."
Heather poured two glasses of iced tea and handed one to him with a light snort. "Let him be. I'll tell you a secret,
Malcolm, there's a reason he's the senior official in the Coridan region."
"And that is?" he asked loftily, picking up on the amused undertone.
"It means he's not a mid-level official on *Vulcan* and they don't have to deal with him. The man's logic can...be clouded
at times by his ego." With a laugh, she led him out onto the patio, her gaze on the horizon. "God, it's gorgeous here. I'd
almost forgotten what an ocean smells like." Closing her eyes, she inhaled lightly. "It will be hard to leave this place."
"Don't spend much time near them on Vulcan I take it."
"Vulcan doesn't have oceans, per se. It has a few small seas which remind me of the Mediterranean but nothing that can be
termed an 'ocean'. There are times I miss the Pacific so much it's a near-physical ache." She looked over at him. "What
about you? Ten months in space..."
"What of it?" She slanted a glance at him that reminded him eerily of T'Pol and he chuckled. "Yes, I miss Earth. I love
being out here but..."
"Sometimes..." She nodded. "I know." After a moment, she bit her lower lip slightly and ventured, "When was the last time
you..."
"Long enough."
"Malcolm..."
"Heather," Turning, he reached out to take her hand in his. "It's been too long and we've too little time to worry about
the dysfunctions ingrained in the Reed family dynamic."
She opened her mouth to argue but his mutely pleading eyes quickly had her relenting. "I never could say no to that look."
He grinned. "Why do you think I use it?"
She made a disgusted noise at the back of her throat and shook her head at him. "Incorrigible." Abruptly, she hugged him
again. "God, it's good to see you."
"It's good to see you too," he responded, holding her close, the light scent of her perfume filling his awareness.
----
"Mmmmm..." Heather's pleased moan filtered up through her folded arms and Malcolm chuckled. "Where did you learn this?"
"You'd be surprised what you pick up after Starfleet's high-endurance training," he said innocently, his hands working the
sun block into her sun-warmed skin.
She snickered. "You're forgetting who you're talking to, Malcolm Reed, I know better than that. Which girlfriend, and I
use the term loosely, did you pick this up from?"
"Her name was April and we dated for quite a while, I'll have you know. She was a lovely girl and a massage therapist,"
he defended with a grin as she peered back at him with a skeptical look.
"Well, whatever she was, I'm going to look her up and send her a thank you note," she informed him lightly. "I haven't
felt this relaxed in *months*."
"Happy to oblige," he responded, exaggerating his accent.
"Oh God, you've been watching Bond movies again." She mock-groaned. "Remind me to ask Captain Archer to ban you from
those."
"I rather enjoy those movies," Malcolm said. "They're very entertaining."
"Mmmhmm...I wonder why you like them so much? Oh yes, now I remember, an Englishman running about with guns, shooting
anything that moves, causing big explosions and romancing any and every beautiful woman he finds...Malcolm Reed's dream
life," she teased sarcastically, coaxing a laugh from her friend.
"They're amusing, I will grant you that," he replied. "But I rather think the explosions I'm capable of creating with
Enterprise's weapons are a slightly more impressive than anything 007 ever managed in his illustrious career."
"Ahh..but what about the women?" Heather asked archly, sighing happily as his hands slid along her shoulders.
"None of them even compare to my present company."
She smiled. "Malcolm, you are – without a doubt – the most charming man I have ever known."
"Heather, you are -without a doubt - the most impressive woman I have ever known."
"Liar." She smiled back at him. "But I appreciate the sentiment." Sitting up, she tied the top in place once more, then
turned to face him. "So, feel like a swim?"
He returned the smile, throughly enamored of the idea of spending any amount of time near her in that deliciously
revealing suit, especially if it would be wet at the time. "Most definitely."
TBC
Author: M. Edison
Archive: Please ask first.
Season: Season1 Enterprise. AU for 2 Days & 2 Nights.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Season1ish
Keywords: AU, Malcolm, Risa, Vulcan. OC
Disclaimer: Enterprise and its characters are the property of Paramount/Viacom, etc.
Summary: On Risa, Malcolm runs into a familiar face.
3rd in the Heather series. Stories 1 (The Letter) and 2 (The Reply) can be found on the Trek page of my section of
Triple Threat.
Author's Note: This story was an attempt to reconcile Enterprise Vulcans with TOS/TNG/Voy Vulcans...interesting work.
Some of the research comes from novels like 'Spock's World' which, I think, the Enterprise writers should consider
their 'idiot's guide to Vulcan'. Yeesh
"The Visit"
by M.
*****
He was having breakfast when he saw her: Sitting at another table, her back was to him, causing a familiar old ache to
rise in his throat. With her hair cut in that style, and if he hadn't known where his friend was, he would have sworn
it was Heather Grayson.
But it couldn't be. Heather's work kept her very busy and, according to her letter, she only left Vulcan when she
accompanied the Ambassador on diplomatic trips. It couldn't be her, he told himself with a brisk shake of his head, and
returned his attention to the nearly decadent meal before him. The Risan people certainly knew how to take care of their
guests, as he'd never eaten so well in his life – the food was positively delicious.
"Malcolm?"
The fork froze halfway to his mouth and so did he. It was impossible. There was no way he'd just heard Heather's voice.
Setting down the fork, he straightened up and turned slowly to find her standing there, smiling at him. "Heather?" An
answering smile on his own face, the Englishman pushed quickly to his feet and immediately pulled her into a warm hug.
They lingered that way for several minutes before she pulled back, beaming up at him, her smile a feast for his eyes.
"Surprise!"
He started to repeat her then opted to skip right to the inevitable, "How did you know? I mentioned it in my letter but
I didn't think that it had made it to Vulcan yet."
"It hasn't." She answered as he pulled out a chair for her. "I found out on my own via the Ambassador's resources. I made
a few discreet inquiries and got my answer." Subtle amusement lit her eyes. "I'm sure somewhere in Starfleet, someone is
wondering what on Earth would have Selish asking about Enterprise's whereabouts."
Seating himself, Malcolm didn't bother to suppress his smile. "Someone most certainly is. To what do I owe the honor of
your visit?"
Heather smiled. "I missed you. Trading letters reminded me of that and Selish has been telling me I needed a vacation.
Finding out you were headed for Risa made it the perfect opportunity. He had me booked on the first transport leaving for
here."
"Your Ambassador's been after you to take a vacation, Sub-commander T'Pol's been telling us we needed shore leave...Why
is it the Vulcans are so dead set on us relaxing while acting as if they're above it all themselves?" He watched his old
friend's smile turn to one of bemusement. "By that smile, I suppose, you've an answer for me?"
She glanced up at an approaching waiter, pausing to order and nod politely, before turning her gaze back to Malcolm.
"Vulcans find the idea of expending energy in order to rest quite illogical. If a Vulcan wishes to rest, they *rest*. By
sleeping, meditating, or otherwise just conserving their energy. Truthfully," she shrugged lightly. "the majority of
Vulcans don't see the need to take a vacation. Their daily meditations take care of relieving stress for them. They don't
build it up in the same way humans do." She blushed, noticing the amused expression Malcolm wore. "Sorry, when I get to
talking about Vulcans I tend to ramble."
"Really?" He deadpanned. "I hadn't noticed."
"Sure you did." she countered gamely. "But, as always, you're too much of a gentleman to say anything."
"That, or I've just missed having an actual face-to-face conversation with you instead of trading letters back and forth,"
he teased, drawing another light blush from her.
"Flatterer," Heather accused, smiling nevertheless. "So, I hear you had a bit of an adventure lately?"
"Just one?" Malcolm murmured under his breath with a near chuckle. "Which one would you be referring to?"
"Enterprise saved Ambassador V'Lar's life! It's the big subject of conversation on Vulcan these days. *Especially* in the
political and diplomatic circles. Humans risking their lives to save a Vulcan?" She smiled, leaning back to allow the
waiter to place her breakfast and something that resembled tea, before her. "That's impressed a few people, believe me.
Selish mentioned the High Council has been discussing it quite favorably. After the P'Jem debacle, this was exactly what
was needed – it's smoothing some ruffled feathers quite nicely."
Cautiously, he met her gaze. Living on Vulcan meant Heather had literally been forced to deal with fallout from P'Jem on
her own, without the benefit of Starfleet Admirals to back her up. "Debacle?"
She sighed, setting down her drink. "I'm sorry, Malcolm, I probably shouldn't have even mentioned it, but you can't imagine
the kind of reaction that engendered on Vulcan."
"Anger?"
"Not that they'll admit or show any signs of. What I have seen is shock, disappointment, grief...among the religious
community...horror." Heather picked at her breakfast. "Logically, they know the Andorians made the decision to destroy the
sanctuary but some of the responsibility they believe, and in truth so do I, lies with your captain."
"You mean the blame," he said automatically.
"No, I mean *responsibility*," his friend responded firmly. "If I truly meant blame then I would say so. Any Vulcan that
would stoop to an emotion as ugly as blame isn't much of a Vulcan, and any of them will say so quite honestly." She
smiled. "Cthia demands honesty, with oneself and with the world about you."
"Cthia?"
"The way of Truth or the Path of Logic," Heather elaborated. "It can be used to refer to the guidelines set down by Surak
millennia ago that govern Vulcan society. I can't speak for Ambassador Soval," her eyes narrowed slightly, a sure sign of
her displeasure with the subject, "but the majority of Vulcans do not 'blame' Captain Archer. They do, however, believe he
is in part responsible for the sanctuary's destruction. To accept that truth would be the most honorable choice he can
make at this point."
"Honorable?"
She nodded. "It can't be undone, thus the only logical choice is to accept his measure of responsibility, apologize, and
move on."
"Logical? Heather, you sound more like one of them," he pointed out, stealing a slice of a pineapple-like fruit off her
plate.
She smacked at his hand and retaliated by stealing a slice of fruit from his. "I suppose I do." She grinned. "When in
Rome...I'm so used to talking with Vulcans I'm afraid I'm a little out of practice in talking with humans." Holding out
her glass mug, she waited for him to take it. "Try this."
Warily, he eyed the liquid, remembering the times she'd 'surprised' him in the past. "What is it?"
"Saya." Seeing he wasn't about to let her get away with just that, she relented and elaborated. "It's a Vulcan drink, sort
of like tea. Try it! I promise you won't go blind."
"Very funny." Malcolm groused lightly.
Heather's warm gaze turned impish and she held the drink against his mouth. "Please..."
Acquiescing, he opened his mouth and allowed the warm liquid to spill across his lips. To his surprise, there was quite a
pleasant taste to saya, something he hadn't expected.
"I know," she murmured, amused, pulling the mug back to take a sip herself. "It probably would shock some people if they
know Vulcans like their food to taste pleasant. I don't doubt it would stupefy them to know Vulcans believe beauty, or in
this case taste, and function aren't the anthesis of each other, that they believe the opposite: Beauty, or the evocation
of pleasure, usually makes it more effective."
He smiled at her unspoken plea for understanding. Vulcan had taught her a great deal about subtlety. "I do believe,
Heather, that place has stolen your heart."
She beamed at him. "It has. If everyone on Earth could get to know these people the way I have..."
"And vice versa...." he agreed.
"If Selish has his way, and he may yet, that might happen. He wants the Vulcan compound on Earth closed down and the
residents to find their own accommodations among the human population – and not congregate together. He believes it is
illogical to judge the maturity of a society with the insufficient data they have gathered through observation. He's
adamant that data won't be complete until Vulcans have experienced Earth for themselves."
"I think I would like your Ambassador."
Heather's smile was impish. "Oh I think you would. He certainly likes you all after hearing his wife's stories."
"His wife?"
"Ambassador V'Lar."
Malcolm shook his head.
He should have known.
-----
That afternoon found the two old friends planning to spend time on the beach outside the house Heather was staying in.
Walking up to the building in question, Malcolm found himself wondering what the Vulcans were paying her that she could
afford to stay in such lavish settings. He definitely planned on inquiring, if only to tease her, but any thoughts of that
nature flew right out of his head when the door slid open to reveal her waiting for him, already in her swimwear.
It was his opinion that Vulcan had been very kind to Heather Grayson's physique. She'd never been unattractive but it
struck him that a few years of living in the harsh climate of Vulcan had burned away all nonessentials, leaving the purest
essence behind. She was beautiful.
What shocked him out of his own admiration was the openly appreciative way that Heather's gaze swept over him. "You look
fantastic," she said without guile, stepping back to let him enter while tying a translucent cover-up about her hips.
"I was thinking the same of you," he confessed softly, adding quickly. "Lovely accommodations you have. Much better than
the hotel..."
"It belongs to Selish." She answered his unspoken question as she moved to stand next to him, her honey blonde hair
brushing his shoulder. "He and V'Lar come here sometimes. They believe time away from Vulcan and their own professional
personas is good for the soul."
"Vulcans spending time on Risa?" Malcolm grinned. "Captain Sopek would be scandalized."
Heather poured two glasses of iced tea and handed one to him with a light snort. "Let him be. I'll tell you a secret,
Malcolm, there's a reason he's the senior official in the Coridan region."
"And that is?" he asked loftily, picking up on the amused undertone.
"It means he's not a mid-level official on *Vulcan* and they don't have to deal with him. The man's logic can...be clouded
at times by his ego." With a laugh, she led him out onto the patio, her gaze on the horizon. "God, it's gorgeous here. I'd
almost forgotten what an ocean smells like." Closing her eyes, she inhaled lightly. "It will be hard to leave this place."
"Don't spend much time near them on Vulcan I take it."
"Vulcan doesn't have oceans, per se. It has a few small seas which remind me of the Mediterranean but nothing that can be
termed an 'ocean'. There are times I miss the Pacific so much it's a near-physical ache." She looked over at him. "What
about you? Ten months in space..."
"What of it?" She slanted a glance at him that reminded him eerily of T'Pol and he chuckled. "Yes, I miss Earth. I love
being out here but..."
"Sometimes..." She nodded. "I know." After a moment, she bit her lower lip slightly and ventured, "When was the last time
you..."
"Long enough."
"Malcolm..."
"Heather," Turning, he reached out to take her hand in his. "It's been too long and we've too little time to worry about
the dysfunctions ingrained in the Reed family dynamic."
She opened her mouth to argue but his mutely pleading eyes quickly had her relenting. "I never could say no to that look."
He grinned. "Why do you think I use it?"
She made a disgusted noise at the back of her throat and shook her head at him. "Incorrigible." Abruptly, she hugged him
again. "God, it's good to see you."
"It's good to see you too," he responded, holding her close, the light scent of her perfume filling his awareness.
----
"Mmmmm..." Heather's pleased moan filtered up through her folded arms and Malcolm chuckled. "Where did you learn this?"
"You'd be surprised what you pick up after Starfleet's high-endurance training," he said innocently, his hands working the
sun block into her sun-warmed skin.
She snickered. "You're forgetting who you're talking to, Malcolm Reed, I know better than that. Which girlfriend, and I
use the term loosely, did you pick this up from?"
"Her name was April and we dated for quite a while, I'll have you know. She was a lovely girl and a massage therapist,"
he defended with a grin as she peered back at him with a skeptical look.
"Well, whatever she was, I'm going to look her up and send her a thank you note," she informed him lightly. "I haven't
felt this relaxed in *months*."
"Happy to oblige," he responded, exaggerating his accent.
"Oh God, you've been watching Bond movies again." She mock-groaned. "Remind me to ask Captain Archer to ban you from
those."
"I rather enjoy those movies," Malcolm said. "They're very entertaining."
"Mmmhmm...I wonder why you like them so much? Oh yes, now I remember, an Englishman running about with guns, shooting
anything that moves, causing big explosions and romancing any and every beautiful woman he finds...Malcolm Reed's dream
life," she teased sarcastically, coaxing a laugh from her friend.
"They're amusing, I will grant you that," he replied. "But I rather think the explosions I'm capable of creating with
Enterprise's weapons are a slightly more impressive than anything 007 ever managed in his illustrious career."
"Ahh..but what about the women?" Heather asked archly, sighing happily as his hands slid along her shoulders.
"None of them even compare to my present company."
She smiled. "Malcolm, you are – without a doubt – the most charming man I have ever known."
"Heather, you are -without a doubt - the most impressive woman I have ever known."
"Liar." She smiled back at him. "But I appreciate the sentiment." Sitting up, she tied the top in place once more, then
turned to face him. "So, feel like a swim?"
He returned the smile, throughly enamored of the idea of spending any amount of time near her in that deliciously
revealing suit, especially if it would be wet at the time. "Most definitely."
TBC