Title: Running on Silent
Author: jyorraku
Rating: PG-13
Category: Fluff Tongue
Codes: R/S
Summary: Talk is cheap.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Un-betaed.
People say genes can often a skip generation. Malcolm Reed had probably inherited the penchant to blow shit up from his grandfather, a Weapon Engineer Officer in the Royal Navy. His grandfather liked to be hands-on with his explosives, which was probably why as he grew older, he couldn't hear out of his left ear and was auditorily challenged in the right. Malcolm adored his grandfather and didn't let the lack of auditory speech deter him from communicating with the older man.
When Hoshi Sato mentioned--with a twinkle in her eyes--that one of the fastest ways to learn a new language was to gossip salaciously in that language, Malcolm snorted, quietly...in his head. Appearances to keep, after all. Although she has quite mastered Denobulan, from what he obliquely observed at the Mess. He shuddered to think what she and the ever curious doctor gossiped about.
Today, however, they no longer spoke in Denobulan. Rather, they didn't speak at all, but communicated with their hands. Phlox seemed to be the student this time. Malcolm watched from the corner of his eye. It was something he, as a tactical officer, was quite the expert.
Bad dream, last night.
...Scared?
Not scared. Bad naked dream.
He almost spat out his tea. His padd, he should concentrate on his work, most definitely. Yet, he knew Phlox was still chuckling and Hoshi grinning, though not without a tinge of embarrassment in her cheeks, which extended downward to her slender neck. The devil was in the details.
Person I know? Phlox signed haltingly.
He didn't pretend to read his padd any longer, though he wasn't as if he was gawking at them. Stealth of the highest order was still necessary, though etiquette had obviously gone out the window.
Hoshi paused for a few seconds, gnawing a bit at her left cheek, considering whether to share this tidbit or not. Then it was caution to the wind with a dirty smirk.
He is really good with guns.
The rest of the day was an understandable blur. But when his hand brushed up against hers at the morning conference, it was electric.