As luck would have it, Anna dragged Malcolm to a regular haunt with a lot of the station personnel and she was there- Caitlin- just sitting at the bar chatting to the barman in a comradely way- clearly a friend at work. Malcolm clocked her, but unable to peel himself away from Anna at that exact moment, he didn't 'go to work' immediately. He flinched as that phrase occurred to him- it sounds like I'm going to invite her back for a good night! What a cheesy way to start. Note to self: never use that phrase again. He shuddered silently which Anna, still holding on to his arm noticed. "What is it sugar? Are you alright?"
Anna was full of jokes and flirted like crazy with Malcolm, but at that moment, she was serious as Malcolm normally was. She was a good friend after all, and Malcolm didn't want to worry her, but also didn't want to have to reveal anything regarding Caitlin and compromise the mission.
"Just a tough day at work," Malcolm lied. "Very glad to get off duty and relax for a while," and he smiled at Anna to make her see that he was alright really.
Anna looked at him intently for a beat and nodded slowly, pursing her lips as she did. "Okaaay..." she dragged out, clearly not entirely believing him, but deciding to let it slide for now, "In that case," she added, "you need a beer and a good night with friends. Seriously Malcolm, work isn't everything and sometimes, a relaxing evening is as medicinal as a check-up at the Med Centre."
Malcolm looked at her. At that exact moment, she sounded exactly as his old best friend Cory Logan used to and he felt a pang of loss. Anna knew about what had happened with Cory on Malcolm's first posting after Starfleet Academy, as Malcolm had shared that information on a slightly drunken evening some time ago. He brightened up immediately though, not wanting to drag the evening down, and especially as his original shudder had actually been over something quite comical, if cringe-worthy in his head.
"Come on," he said, leading Anna past the bar, through the packed dance floor where the music blared loudly making it hard to be heard, and to a table in the back of the large place where several of their mutual friends were crammed around a booth and it was slightly easier to yell at each other.
Anna squeezed in beside Ben and Alexandra from the Science Department.
"Drinks anyone?" Malcolm asked as he stayed standing, surveying the sudden arrival of several other friends as he said that. A very popular man suddenly, he counted the orders and left for the bar, struggling through the masses on the dance floor again to reach it.
He got to the bar, squeezing in beside a pretty blonde with the most startling blue eyes he had ever seen. He pretended he hadn't noticed Caitlin as he tried instead to get the attention of the barman she was no longer talking to and who was now serving the clientele. He waved a hand a couple of times, but didn't get the barman to notice him. Suddenly, a piercing whistle next to him and a "Hey! Jimmy! Over here!" caught the barman's attention and he came over. Malcolm looked to his left as Caitlin removed the two fingers from her mouth that had made the whistle.
"I'm impressed," Malcolm said. "And thank you," he smiled at her, and she smiled back.
"What'll it be?" Jimmy the barman finally came over and asked.
"Eight beers please." Jimmy nodded and started the order.
As he did, Malcolm turned back to Caitlin. "May I get you a drink?" He asked her.
She shook her head ruefully. "Thanks, but Jimmy's keeping me well stocked."
Malcolm held out his right hand, eager to make her acquaintance before she turned away and it got awkward. "The name's Reed. Malcolm Reed. I work in the Armoury."
She took his hand, "Caitlin Burns, pilot."
Malcolm raised his eyebrows. "It's unusual to have a female pilot isn't it?"
She narrowed an eye as if trying to assess whether he was mocking her or not. "Not really- I was a boomer- always out in space. With a limited crew, one has to be able to take on several roles. I just happened to be particularly good at the flying part. Starfleet's a good way to carry that on and become a full-time pilot without all rubbish that comes with doing the odd-jobs as well on a boomer ship."
Malcolm put up his hands in mock defence. "I certainly didn't mean to cause any offence. One just doesn't meet that many female pilots, but I entirely believe what you say about having multiple roles on a boomer ship- always sounded more than a little hectic to me!" And he smiled again, to show he really hadn't meant any offence by it. She relaxed again, smiling once more just as Jimmy brought Malcolm a tray with his order on it. Before he picked it up though, he turned to her, "Would you care to join me and my friends for a drink? We're behind the dance floor at the back there," and he pointed vaguely beyond the dancers.
"That's ok, I promised Jimmy some dinner when his shift finishes in a few minutes." Malcolm nodded and turned to leave. "But I wouldn't mind a quieter drink with you some other night," she added.
Malcolm looked at her, surprised. "Uh, yes, sure," he stuttered. "Um- tomorrow night perhaps?"
"Perfect!" she said, getting out a card from her purse and scribbling on the back of it. Here's a place I know- a good cocktail bar. Well," she added, looking around, "Good for Jupiter Station anyway!"
He took the card from her- he knew the place, but put it in his pocket anyway. " Tomorrow at 7pm then?"
"See you then," she smiled, lowering her lashes.
He nodded, smiled again, and left with his drinks.
"Hell Malcolm, you've been gone forever with those drinks!" Anna exclaimed as he returned amidst cheers and thanks from everyone who had a drink.
"Sorry about that," he said. "Met a girl."
Anna was momentarily speechless, which for her, was quite a feat. "Hot damn! And?"
Malcolm tutted. "And I'm meeting her tomorrow for a drink."
"Excellent!" Anna exclaimed, "where is it?"
"Oh no," Malcolm said shaking his head and squeezing in next to her on the bench, "I'm not telling you- you'd turn up!"
"Of course I would! That's half the fun!" she admitted.
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The next day, he had a table in the Blue Lagoon- the cocktail bar Caitlin had sent him to and was waiting for her with a Gibson that shone in the light. The entire place was filled with solely blue light and shadows and a jazz flautist was playing in the centre on a podium above the circular bar, glassed-in waterfalls with carbonated bubbles falling from the small stage. The rest of the band- a drummer and a double bassist were in the back of the room, still perfectly audible. The entire floor was glass with an aquarium beneath filled with tropical fish and corals, and exotic plants and waterfalls inhabited the place all around making semi-private little booths for couples and business exchanges for those from off-station. It was definitely a step-up from the bar the night beforehand which was pleasant enough, but every surface was a little sticky from general beer spillage.
The essence of the cocktail bar was privacy and beauty in one- it was typical of places on Jupiter Station- somewhere to make people forget they were on a space station with no possibility of going out.
The place was quite full already, even though it was only early evening, and many a couple were dancing in the dim recesses to the band's sway.
As Malcolm looked around, he spotted Caitlin at the doorway, not having seen him yet. She walked into the joint with an incredibly fashionable dress on- a slinky black number that shone purple as she moved, shining like an oil spill. Malcolm suddenly felt like a country hick in his cotton black shirt and trousers combo.
He stood as she approached and smiled when she spotted him, giving a small wave.
He sat a moment after she did and a waiter immediately and silently slinked towards them for her order of a fine scotch.
"You look fantastic," Malcolm said to her, most sincerely.
Caitlin gave him a coy smile and tucked a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
"Thanks," she said, "though I'm not nearly as well-off as this dress would have you think. It is Soveera, but my family import the material as a luxury commodity to whoever wants it- and is willing to pay of course," she winked at him.
Soveera was a naturally-sourced material woven by arachnids on a far away Earth colony. The material was of a gossamer-combined with silk which, depending on the species of arachnid doing the weaving, determined the colour of the iridescent sheen the weave would have. This was the main feature of the material which therefore made it a luxury item and was seen frequently on the Parisian catwalks with the highest name labels- and prices- to go with it.
Caitlin's drink came and Malcolm took a sip of his drink while she swirled the liquid in her glass and smelled the smoky scent.
"So tell me about being a boomer," Malcolm asked her. "Space exploration must be incredible."
"Oh yes it is," she agreed whole-heartedly. "There's nothing quite like waking up and seeing a nebula outside of your viewport or chatting to someone on one of the furthest human colonies who hasn't seen a new face in decades! I would thoroughly recommend it to anyone."
Malcolm held his glass to his lips but before sipping from it, he nodded enthusiastically in agreement with her.
"It's something I really want to do," he said. He looked around at this surroundings, making an exaggerated gesture. "But I seem to be stuck for the moment."
He took that sip.
Caitlin raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Why are you here exactly? What do you do? I mean, I know you said last night that you worked in the Armoury, but Jupiter Station doesn't really need one of those, does it. We're not exactly front line defence here in the galaxy."
Malcolm tutted and rolled his eyes.
"Tell me about it. I've been here for what seems like ages, but the work is same-old, same-old. I do refittings on ships, restock armaments and keep people drilled in what they need to know. I teach martial arts and weapons training too. What do you do here as a pilot?"
She finished her drink. "This is the next stage of pilot training here- proper space flights, going in and out of the system, learning how to be properly drilled in spaceport etiquette, that sort of thing."
"Having done all of this before, I imagine it's quite easy for you?" Malcolm asked, finishing the Gibson.
"Yes it is, but there are always variations when you're with a proper organisation, rather than the family business- I guess it's getting up-to-speed with how Starfleet does it that is good for me here. And I know I won't be here forever!" She seemed relieved at this, and Malcolm felt a pang of jealousy at her freedom, but it only lasted a second. "Would you like to dance?" She asked him.
He stood. "Yes, yes I would," and he held out his hand to her. She took it, and he led her to the throng of dancers swaying closely to the music in the dim recesses.
The flautist was good- very very good. He was renowned throughout the Station as one of the best and he could have easily had a very lucrative career as such, had he not wanted to be a chef even more.
The two of them danced, and ordered more drinks at the bar, then danced some more, getting closer and closer as the night went on. This was a club that went on all night and only stopped when the breakfast bars opened and the wafts of bacon and suchlike entered in enticing the custom outside.
At about 2am though, Caitlin leant in towards Malcolm and kissed him deeply, flickering her lashes at him as she pulled away. He certainly didn't complain, even when she pulled him to the door of the Blue Lagoon. Once outside, with the corridor lights dimmed to the same blue effect as had been inside the bar, she turned to look at him.
"Thank you for a lovely evening Malcolm, I would definitely like to do this again sometime soon. Very soon," she said, quite emphatically and flicking some lint from his shoulder.
She had stopped their dancing and pulled him outside so suddenly that he seemed surprised at her admission- yes, the night had gone on well, but with the sudden end, he had wondered.
"Yes," he said, "I'd like that too."
He opened his mouth again to suggest a time and a place when she beat him to it.
"Great! I'll call you!" And she turned and started walking away, looking back and blowing him a kiss as she did, leaving Malcolm to wonder what had just happened, and whether or not she was for real. It would be nice to meet a person for once who doesn't just insist on calling on me whenever... he though, thinking of both Caitlin and Harris. Still, he had started his work for Harris, and considering all the missions he might have been given, this was definitely a step-up.
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Malcolm didn't hear from Caitlin again for nearly two weeks, by which time he thought he'd just been played and while it stung- he had thought they'd had something going that night at the Blue Lagoon- it bothered him mostly because he didn't know how Harris would take it- his first real mission with Section 31, and already he'd failed.
He had just finished doing the graveyard shift in the Armoury, and as it was only halfway through the morning, he felt the need for a coffee before he went for a large breakfast and some sleep.
He had a favourite coffee place on Jupiter Station, and it was a little stall with excellent coffee on the outskirts of the closest thing the Station had to a park- a massive hydroponics section that had been purposely designed to look like one of the parks in San Francisco near to the Starfleet Academy. It had been popular with the Starfleet students on Earth, and the copy here on the Station was massively popular with the people who visited- both of the parks had little shops all the way around selling all sorts from touristy trinkets to clothes and toiletries and gifts. Jupiter Station's 'park' even had lighting to make anyone there feel like they were outside at the correct time according to Earth with air conditioning making a slight breeze in the air too. It was all very well done and because of it, it was just as popular as the original park on Earth was.
He went up to the barista in the coffee stall who was a small lad about Malcolm's size and build by the name of Frances who smiled at Malcolm when he walked up to the counter- Malcolm was a regular customer and they had struck up a friendship, helped by the fact that Frances attended Malcolm's martial arts classes as well.
"G' mornin' Malcolm!" the lilting Irish voice said, greeting him. "An' what'll it be for yah today my man?"
"So long as it's strong and hot, I really don't mind," Malcolm countered, smiling.
"Ah," Frances nodded, knowingly, as he started Malcolm's order. "Bin burnin' the candle at both ends have yah?"
"You could say that, yes," Malcolm admitted, "Graveyard shift."
Frances wrinkled his nose. "Yuck- that is somethin' they'll never have me doin'!" He laid down Malcolm's coffee in front of him.
"At this moment in time, I'm tempted to forget Starfleet and join you!" Malcolm laughed in reply.
There was no one else in Frances' queue so they stopped and chatted for a few minutes about the day so far and about when the next karate competition was go be held. When a couple of other people turned up Malcolm said his farewells and turned, but immediately as he did so, he bumped into Caitlin.
"Malcolm!" she looked genuinely surprised.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going." He side-stepped to let her past but she grabbed his shoulder, taking care not to spill his coffee.
"Malcolm," she said again, "I'm the one who's sorry- really very very sorry. I'm not sure what I was thinking the other week- seriously!" she said, when he just looked deadpan at her. "It didn't even occur to me to think that I didn't have your quarters number or anything, and each time I tried to find you at the Armoury, they said you weren't in- I thought I'd behaved so badly that night that you were avoiding me and didn't want to see me again."
Malcolm melted at what seemed to be an honest plea for forgiveness from her.
"May I buy you a coffee?" he asked her.
She smiled an incredible smile which would have almost made him speechless had he not been waiting for a response from her. "Yes please," she said, realised that this was his way of accepting her apology.
With a coffee bought, they strolled together through the park, Caitlin trying to explain that she had been a little tipsy on their date night and that she was eminently sorry and wouldn't he go on another with her?
Malcolm in return, almost spilled his coffee as he realised that what they had had that night in the Blue Lagoon was indeed by anyone's standards, a date.
"I would love to go out with you," he said smiling, but taking a long mouthful of coffee at the same time to try and be cool in front of her. Actually making him and Caitlin a serious item was making him show some of his old nervousness he had in front of women when he was a cadet.
It wasn't until he got back to his quarters that night after a day glowing in delight that he realised what exactly he'd got himself into with Caitlin. This girl was his mission from Section 31- he was supposed to be finding out about her family's life and what they traded in, not making her into a girlfriend. When he reported back to Harris that night though on their communicator, Harris thought very differently- he was in fact delighted.
"Excellent work! This is exactly the sort of thing we're after- it is by far more productive than having to interrogate her." Malcolm agreed with this completely, but what he didn't tell Harris was that the thought of interrogating someone made him feel a bit queasy. It just wasn't in him to be callous towards another living thing. He could do his duty, but callousness was in someone's nature, and it wasn't in his. He felt uneasy, but he'd much rather have the pleasantness of a relationship with Caitlin and save her from Harris' clutches than any alternative. He shuddered as he thought of Harris, and he began again to wonder what sort of man he had become tangled with because of Section 31.
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Several months went by on Jupiter Station, and within their circle of friends, it was very well known that Malcolm and Caitlin were an item. It didn't stop Anna from flirting outrageously with Malcolm, but as she also flirted completely harmlessly with Caitlin as well, there wasn't any tension or awkward situations from that.
As far as his mission went, Malcolm found out from Caitlin everything that Section 31 wanted to know, and each time he reported something that she had told him in confidence, it made him feel greasy and untrustworthy. It was a feeling that went totally against his nature, and yet the next time he saw her again, the feeling was put right to the back of his mind and was replaced with the joy he had at seeing her and spending time with her again.
Nearly a year went by when one evening, as Malcolm was giving his evening report by communicator to Harris about Caitlin and her family's trade did Harris say something that made Malcolm feel sick to the stomach.
"We have everything we need from the girl now. Very well done. Do you feel this to have been a success?" Harris asked him.
Malcolm took a moment to compose an answer, he recognised this as a leading question to which Harris would judge him for the future. "Yes Sir. We have garnered all the information that was required without having to cause either suspicion or damage to anyone."
Harris' tone was neutral. "Yes. And now we need you to do something else."
Malcolm waited dutifully for his superior to continue.
"You have done admirably in developing a relationship with the girl- it was just what was required for the mission. What is next for you to do in your line of duty is to break it off with her."
Malcolm froze, saying nothing.
"This is important. You need to be able to not just perform your duty, but to do it above and beyond the call of duty. That's what it takes to be with us. And if you're not with us, you're against us."
Malcolm heard the visible threat and blinked three times rapidly.
"Break it off with her Sir?" he finally said. "It that absolutely necessary?"
He could hear the malice in Harris' words when he spoke again. This was a callous man, Malcolm realised.
"Believe me, it is best to do as you're told when you're with us. You're doing so well, you don't want to spoil it now over a girl whose family breaks the law with their trading."
"But Sir," Malcolm tentatively added, "I love her. And I know she loves me too."
"Cute, but it won't wash over with me. This isn't the sort of organisation you mess around with."
There was a pregnant pause. The only sound was an antique ticking clock that Malcolm had brought with him and sat on his desk.
"You remember Michael Davies?" Harris said, breaking the silence.
"Yes," Malcolm replied, remembering very well who Michael Davies was, but didn't know why he was being mentioned.
Michael Davies had been a very rich man on Earth only a few years ago- well respected, had anything his heart desired- a businessman with incredible technical savvy and pull with the most powerful and richest people on Earth and several out in space as well. A year or two ago, someone had discovered that he'd been selling business secrets to terrorists and competitors and from there, investigators found out that he was also liable for a massive tax fraud as well. It was the end of the man who was now rotting away in a jail cell for the rest of his life, void of all friends, a man whose family no longer recognised him, except for one daughter who tried to convince the media of his innocence every day, and certainly a man who no longer had anything he desired, money, power, or sway in society.
"He was one of us," Harris said. "A very useful man to have with the connections we need. But he forgot that it was us who kept him safe and in power during each not-so-wisely made business decision and wanted out. We couldn't have that, so the charges against him were fabricated by us. The fraud was surprisingly easy to create."
He paused again, allowing Malcolm to take all this in.
To say that Malcolm was shocked would be the understatement of the century. To think that he had become involved in Section 31, a group that would do all that to a man did indeed make him struggle to keep his evening meal down.
"So you see," Harris continued, "If we can do that to a man like Michael Davies, just think what we could do for you," and to Malcolm, it sounded as if he was smiling, almost as if he was offering a service of only the best quality. "And just think," Harris continued one last time, "If you aren't so willing to let her go, then maybe you've actually been feeding us lies about the girl and we'll have to drag her in after all and all your work would have been for nothing. I'm sure you won't want anything to happen to her."
The obvious threat was left hanging in the air.
Malcolm wiped the sweat from his forehead that he hadn't even noticed was accumulating.
"I understand," he said finally.
"Good," Harris said. "I expect your next report to be a positive one."
He clicked off and Malcolm was left alone with his thoughts. To say that he wasn't scared would be a lie, and Malcolm was man enough to admit that he was. He was very troubled, not least for his own sake, but also because he really did love Caitlin, he wanted to stay with her, but he just couldn't afford anything to happen to her. Harris made the threat, he thought. I'm sure he wouldn't think twice about actually carrying it out. I can't let that happen to her.
Malcolm hated to admit it, but Harris was actually right. For Caitlin's sake, he would have to let her go though he had no doubt that she would hate him forever because of it.
His hand shook as he reached for the regular comm system on his desk and called her to arrange a meeting.
A few minutes later and they were going to meet the next day in a secluded part of the Station, where Malcolm knew no one would be. She had been confused as to why he wanted to meet there, but hearing his tone, she had known better than to ask then, but to wait until they were together to hear about it. Malcolm knew this about her and it killed him to know it too- he wanted to be with her.
With a lot of apprehension, Malcolm settled into bed, though he slept very badly that night.
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When he walked to meet Caitlin the next day after work, he couldn't help but feel dread deep in the pit of his stomach at what he was about to do.
He rounded the corner to the little area where they were meeting- a little alcove in the hallway with a couple of comfy chairs and a drinking water machine near one of the Science Labs that was usually deserted at this time of the evening.
Caitlin was already sitting in a chair but when she saw Malcolm, she smiled, though it dimmed a little when she saw his far from happy expression even when he saw her.
Malcolm sat down next to her, unconsciously putting his hand over hers when she placed it on his knee.
"Are you alright Malcolm?" She asked him, her smile turning to an expression of concern.
Malcolm didn't say anything, he just frowned at the floor unconsciously, seeing straight through it.
"Malcolm?" Caitlin said again.
She jumped a little when Malcolm breathed in deeply, finally turning towards her but not quite meeting her eye.
"I can't do this anymore," he said to her, quickly. "We have to have a break, go our own separate ways."
"What?" she asked, not quite believing what he had just said- she certainly hadn't taken it in.
"We can't be together anymore," he said, plainly and simply.
Caitlin pulled her hand away from Malcolm's, clutching the armrest on her chair with it, squeezing unconsciously.
"What do you mean Malcolm? I don't understand. You love me, I know you do. And I love you. Last week we were having fun and everything was perfectly normal, and now what's changed? I don't understand." Every other word of hers made her face change from the smile of before to confusion to downright pain as well as confusion.
Her nails were digging into the armrest, Malcolm noticed. He stared at her nails, trying to think of what he could say to her that wasn't 'it's-not-you-it's-me' sort of reasoning.
She reached forwards with those nails, grabbing for Malcolm's hand, gently but firmly and shook it a little, trying to get him to look at her.
"Malcolm, tell me this again. This just isn't you. I know you, what's really wrong?"
Malcolm felt sick and felt his eyes sting with tears that he refused to let her see. So instead of looking at her, he looked at her hand around his. He began to squeeze it in his weakness, but whether she noticed that or not, he didn't know. He stood up, letting go of her hand and it fell, suspended into the air.
It was then that he looked at her. She could see the pain in his eyes and in his whole demeanour, the way his shoulders were slumped, the way his mouth was set, everything.
He looked at her, and Caitlin could see that things were plainly not alright, but that she couldn't change his mind and a small moan of despair was wrenched from her, but she swallowed it down past the lump in her throat that had formed.
"I'm sorry Caitlin," Malcolm said in a very small voice. "I'm sorry. I love you but I'm sorry."
And he turned and left before he broke down before her.
She didn't follow him.
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Malcolm went back to his quarters and collapsed on his bed flinging an arm over his eyes as he did. He didn't want to see anyone or do anything but sleep though that definitely wasn't coming to him.
Instead, he got up and went to the bathroom to the sink to wash his face which felt like it was burning from unshed tears. He looked up at his reflection in the mirror and stared long and hard.
He had decided to go to the gym to let some aggression out that he desperately needed to but first, he needed to school his face into a perfect mask. He spent what felt like a long time just staring at himself making the perfect poker face. He'd always been rather good at it, and it had always come in useful for him, but this was quite hard to do- his thoughts were stuck on Caitlin.
He just about managed it- well enough anyway for him to go to the gym and beat his knuckles red raw. That was a million times better than Malcolm's first idea- that of going to the bar and getting ridiculously drunk.
Before he went to the gym however, he had one chore to do. Contact Harris.
He set up the communicator and the jamming device and opened the call.
Harris answered almost immediately. He was consistent like that.
"It's done," Malcolm said. He knew that Harris would recognise who was talking without him having to make it clear in any way.
"Excellent! That wasn't so hard now, was it?"
Malcolm narrowed his eyes. The man truly was a nasty piece of work.
"A good mission, well done," Harris continued, ignoring Malcolm's silence.
"If you say so," Malcolm said through clenched teeth.
Harris also chose to ignore this.
"I will say this to you though: now you know about how hard it is when we become emotionally involved with our missions. This was a lesson for you, and a valuable one for your future. Becoming overly friendly with people- and I mean really friendly, rather than appearing friendly for the sake of the mission- hurts and it's dangerous. As you go on with us, you never will know exactly who to trust and who not to. If you trust no one, then you can't be betrayed. Some people have to learn that lesson the hard way. I've made it easier for you."
He stopped. There was silence. Malcolm certainly didn't trust himself to answer Harris on this last point.
"Now then, there is some leave coming for you Malcolm. I think we should both agree that you leaving the Station would be a good idea right now, don't you?"
On this point, Malcolm had to agree. Here on Jupiter Station, there were far too many places where he and Caitlin could run into each other. It would be more than awkward- it would be painful. For both of them, though she might not know that on his part.
"Yes," was all he said though.
"There is a shuttle leaving Jupiter Station at 0800hours tomorrow morning bound for Earth which you have a seat on. Your leave has already been organised with your work shift in the Armoury, so there is no need to see anyone about that. You can just leave."
It all sounded so easy to Malcolm. Usually it was hard to get leave off the base unless it was for a compassionate reason- family problems, that sort of thing. Yet here was Harris, so easily having it arranged for him.
For that at least, Malcolm felt somewhat grateful to the man.
Without waiting for an answer, Harris just cut the connection. Malcolm frowned, annoyed at the rudeness, but glad that he didn't have to make niceties. At least I don't have to say anymore to him. I suspect it wouldn't end well in my current mood.
He packed the the devices away and left for the gym.
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