Janus

by Mara Greengrass

When a transporter accident splits Hoshi into two nearly-identical individuals, the two Hoshis must make a series of difficult decisions. (Round Robin: T/S, R/S)

3. Chapter Three

Title: RR: Janus
Author: jyorakku, Mara, essential phenylalanine, Josephine, Lizard, Chrysa
E-Mail: For contact info, look under the posting forum at http://judy.jteers.net/cgi-bin/cutecast/cutecast.pl?forum=10&thread=512.

For disclaimer, etc., see part one.

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Josephine	Jon stared at the Starfleet logo on his screen, Forrest's ultimatum running through his head. What a way to start the day, he thought. The door chime rang, and he automatically answered "Come!" "You sent for me, Captain?" T'Pol entered, coming to stand before the desk. "Sit down, T'Pol." Jon waited until she had settled herself, then told her what Forrest had decreed. "So it's either put them back together or ship them off to Starfleet for 'observation.' They'll probably be poked and prodded for the rest of their lives." "The ensigns' situation deserves further scientific study..." "So you think they should be turned into lab rats?" Jon's tightly controlled voice stopped T'Pol. "As a scientist I would like to know more about how the ensigns came to be separated, and how they are dealing with the situation. However, they are sentient beings and should have the final say in whatever is done to them." Nodding, Jon picked up the padd with the specs on reunifying Hoshi and Hoshi-chan. "Are you positive that this will even work?" "No. There is an 8.377 percent chance that it will not. And that is only factoring in the variables we know about. Technically, the splitting of the ensigns should never have happened, so technically, we should not be able to put them back together. The commander is a competent engineer, however, and seems to have come up with a way to do so." "I don't like the idea of trying this out on the Hoshis without a...trial run. We can do all the simulations we want, but without actually doing it..." "All our speculations are for naught, Captain, if the ensigns do not want to go back. We cannot force them to. And as of yet, we do not know their feelings on the matter." Jon nodded again. "Call them in for a meeting at 1500 hours. Trip and Malcolm too. They'll all need to know about this." * * * * * Bitch... Hoshi turned back to the sparring dummy and started in on the defensive moves that Malcolm had showed her. Punching and kicking the form, she tried to rid herself of the frantic, hyper feelings in her and the sight of Malcolm before he turned away. She went at it until her muscles burned, her heart pounded, and she was covered in sweat. Falling to the floor, Hoshi trembled with exhaustion; the restlessness was gone, at least for the moment. But she still saw Malcolm and the pain in his eyes, and it echoed the pain in her heart.
Chrysa	When she felt she could move again, Hoshi slowly rose, showered and left the gym. She wandered the corridors aimlessly. Rubbing her temples tiredly, she wandered into a dimly lit lounge and sat heavily on the couch there. "If you're looking to scratch an itch I suggest you go elsewhere. I'm busy," Malcolm's voice drifted out of the darkness, his accent sliding down her spine in a way that made her shudder. Hoshi looked around and finally spotted him in a dark corner, the light off a padd illuminating his face. It was an impassive face. The Reed mask was in full effect, hiding his emotions. Even his eyes, the most expressive part of him, were cold and hard. She hated herself for it. For the way she let Hoshi-chan effortlessly get under her skin. That she responded the way she did, as if she had to contradict Hoshi-chan on everything. Most especially that her need to one-up the other woman had belittled something that had meant so much to her. And him. "Malcolm, I-" "You know, I usually prefer my lovers to be up-front with what they want. That way I know what I'm getting into. I wish you'd told me last night you'd wanted a one-night stand." She stood, irritated at being interrupted, wanting to get her side of it out. "I would have turned you down flat," he continued, stepping towards her, the hurt and anger in him finally finding expression in his words. "Why? Because I'm not like her? I'm not good enough?" She got up into his face. "Or because I'm not the same Hoshi you knew three days ago?" "A one-night stand doesn't sit by your bedside all night watching you sleep," he growled. "A one-night stand doesn't sit in the conference room with his stomach tied up in knots because he's afraid that you'll want to reintegrate with your other half and he'll lose what he has with you now. A one-night stand doesn't hold you in the bathroom in the middle of the night. Why do you think I did that?" "Because you were bored?" "No, because I'm in love with you!" He shouted back, throwing out his hands in exasperation. "You contrary, snarky pain in the ass!" She blinked, momentarily stunned at his words. He mistook her silence for dismay. "Tell me, Hoshi," he said bending towards her, apparently wanting to inflict as much pain on her as possible. "If it hadn't been me, if it had been another man in there, would you have slept with him? How about two men? A man and a woman?" She didn't even realize she'd moved to strike him until he had one arm locked behind her back and the other arm immobilized around her waist. But, while his hold on her was firm enough to restrain her, he was careful not to hurt her, to bruise her as his words had done. She felt his cheek against her neck, the shudder that went through him as he breathed deeply. Slowly, the arm locked at her back was moved so that he could hold her around the waist, his arms over hers, their fingers entwined. "I am not your fuck buddy, Hoshi," he said softly. "I never was and I never will be. I've never wanted that with you. I've always wanted more. The you of last night, the you of three days ago...It makes no difference to me. I love the woman I slept with last night. The one who boldly knocked me down in the gym and the vulnerable woman in my bathroom who let me hold her. It's too bad the illusion was better than the reality." Hoshi's eyes fell closed as his warmth left her. She followed the sound of his footsteps as they crossed the lounge and she finally found her voice. "She wasn't an illusion," Hoshi managed to whisper. A few heartbeats later, she realized the door was still open. He hadn't left. A small surge of hope shot through her. "It's just..." She sat down on a coffee table and put her head in her hands. "I'm sorry about what you heard in the gym. I get around her and I can't help it. She pushes my buttons and I can't help but respond to it." "Why?" His voice sounded like it was right next to her, and Hoshi couldn't help peeking out from between her fingers. He'd taken a seat on the couch and was watching her. "Because now she's everything I'm not and I'm jealous. Calm, cool, collected. I worked hard for that and now it's gone! She can sit still and be perfectly content, while I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin! Because..." She took a deep breath searching for the right words. "I'm afraid," she finally admitted. Malcolm frowned and leaned forward. "Afraid of what?" "To go back. I'm afraid that if I go back, I'll lose what I am now." She looked down at herself. "This me will disappear and only she'll remain. That I won't remember how to be like this: confident, assertive." She put a hand to his cheek. "You say you love me. I love you, too. But I'm still trying to figure out who I am in all of this." She leaned forward and put her arms around his neck, resting her cheek against his, and breathing a sigh of relief when his arms snaked around her waist. "Let me find out with you." Hoshi leaned back and looked into his eyes, a smile lighting her face. Before she could respond, the door to the lounge opened and T'Pol looked in. "Good," the Vulcan said. "You two are together. There is a meeting at 1500 hours in the conference room." "What's it about?" Hoshi asked. "Starfleet has ordered the captain to put the two Ensign Satos back together or else you must be sent back to Earth for observation."
Josephine	* * * * * Hoshi-chan sat on her bunk, staring at the flowers Trip had gotten her when Hoshi had moved out. He said they would brighten the empty room up some. Her hand reached out and plucked a daisy from the vase, one by one she pulled the white petals from the yellow disk. He loves me...he loves me not. He loves me...he loves me not. He loves me... Hoshi-chan's hand stilled as her ears caught a faint, high-pitched noise. * * * * * Trip stood in front of a console in Engineering, looking at, but not really seeing, the diagnostics results in front of him. Nothing flashed red to get his attention, or even yellow as a warning, so his mind wandered reluctantly over the problem of Hoshi-chan, like a sore tooth he just couldn't leave alone. Their coming together that one last time had been slow and sweet, Trip's heart nearly breaking as he wondered if this was the last time he would be with her. She fit so well against him; not just physically, but in all the important ways that you want the person you spend the rest of your life with to fit, the way the one that you love does. And he did want her to stay, and he did love her. He had loved Hoshi-chan for a long time, back when there was only one; however, it wasn't until she had split that he realized it. Was it fair to tell her though? To put that burden on her when she had so many other things pulling and pushing at her right now? If she went back, then he would lose her, yet she would still be there, a constant reminder. Once she was back, who would she chose? Him, or Malcolm? Malcolm loved Hoshi too, and Trip had a sinking feeling that she would choose the armory officer over him. Malcolm could offer the original Hoshi everything; the challenges that her confident side needed and the attentiveness that her quieter side required, once he came out of his shell. And Trip? Trip was just a good ol' boy with good intentions. And everyone knows where good intentions get you. The irony of Trip feeling the same way for which he had silently berated Hoshi-chan was lost on him. Trip's head came up with a snap. Something was off. He moved through Engineering, trying to figure out what it...there: over by the plasma conduits. Trip barely had enough time to get out of the way before the bulkhead exploded, a plasma flare scorching the place he had just been. He was thrown to the deck as the blast washed over him and the internal dampeners struggled to keep ahead of the g-forces as the ship fell out of warp instantaneously. Engineers scrambled to put out the fire as Trip shut down relays left and right. When the damage was contained, he made it over to the comm where the captain had been calling him for the past minute. "I'm here, Cap'n. A conduit blew, same one as last month. I'm gonna have t' look at all the ones in that batch, something tells me an inspector was layin' down on th' job. We're gonna have t' shut down all non-essential sections 'till this is fixed, and there'll be no goin' to' warp 'till it's done." "All right, Trip, get working on it. I want to see you and Malcolm for lunch though." "There's a whole lotta work here, Cap'n..." "Delegate it. That's an order. See you at 1200." "Aye aye, Cap'n."
jyorraku	* * * * * "Commander." Trip delegated his portion of the repairs to Eddie, and started for the door. Then, as if thinking better of it, walked over to assess the progress of the initial repairs, ignoring the placid Vulcan at his side. "What is it, T'Pol? I'm kinda busy, got a meeting with the Cap'n in two minutes. Eddie, make sure you take the couplings off line before you take a look at that. And-" "Commander, I'm sure your crew is quite competent at making the repairs." Trip was sheepishly bemused. It wasn't as if he didn't want to meet the captain. It was just...why did he feel like he wasn't going to like what Jon was going to say? "Of course. Should go to the meeting now." The Engineering doors opened with a soft hiss and Trip gestured for T'Pol to go ahead. T'Pol stepped out, but waited for Trip to start walking before speaking again. "There is a also staff meeting at 1500." "Damn, all them meetings. I've got a semi-crisis down in Engineering, I-" T'Pol stopped in her tracks and turned to face Trip. Trip forced himself to pause, wondering just what the heck T'Pol was trying to do, following him around. "I do not know what it is that the captain wishes to speak to you about. However, I believe you will wish to know the subject of the meeting at 1500." Trip crossed his arms and waited for her to continue. "Starfleet has ordered the reintegration of Ensign Sato. Otherwise we shall have to return to Earth and deliver the ensigns for observation." Trip blinked at her. T'Pol raised her trademark eyebrow, his response was not what she had anticipated. "WHAT?!" Ah, a delayed reaction. * * * * * "Captain! You can't be serious!" Trip yelled out before the doors fully closed behind him. Malcolm sat at T'Pol's regular seat at the dinning table. Trip zoomed in on him. "Do you know about this? This observation thing?" Malcolm's eyes, flat and dull, returned Trip's glare. "I have been briefed," he replied stiffly. Trip swerved to face Jon. "Captain!" A muscle on Jon's jaw flexed before he ordered, "Sit down, Commander." For a moment, Trip wanted to rebel against that command, but he managed a few deep breathes before yanking out a chair and sitting down at the table. "I see T'Pol has relayed the news," Jon's eyes volleyed between the two men, one who looked like he was going to explode at any minute, and another so tightly strung, that Jon was afraid he would hurt himself if he stayed so tense. "Captain! You-" Jon held a hand up. "Let me finish, Trip. Starfleet has given me the order. And as captain, I must obey that order to the best of my abilities. Now, Trip, I understand warp drive is offline. How long is it going to take to repair?" Trip frowned at the sudden change in subject, but did some quick calculations and replied, "About two days." "No, Trip, I don't want some slap and paste job. How long is it going to take to fully repair the damage?" Trip stared at Jon for a second before breaking into a face-splitting grin. "Then I'd say about six days, seven if we want to run the full diagnostics." "All right." That left them some breathing room. Now, Jon sat back in his seat and observed the two men. He remained silent for such a long time that even Malcolm started to squirm under intensity of his scrutiny. Finally, as if he had the answer he wanted, Jon closed his eyes for a second and sighed before continuing. "I understand the two of you have formed...an attachment to both of the Hoshis. Am I right to assume that you've...acted on that attachment?" Malcolm eyes met Trip's before they turned back to Jon, both silent. Jon smiled grimly. "I'll take as a yes." He rubbed a hand across his temple. "I can't believe you two would do something so stupid." "Sir?" Malcolm asked. "Whatever their decision may be, it has to be theirs and theirs alone. Now that you've...involved yourselves in their decision, have you thought what would happen if things don't work out? Do you want them to resent you for it? They are the ones that are most directly influenced by the consequences of this decision, and yet the both of you have made this about yourselves. You might not have started out with that intention, but now it doesn't matter, because you have become a factor in their decision. And if the both of you are the only thing keeping Hoshi and Hoshi-chan separate, then I hope to God you're ready for that responsibility." Trip's eyes went round as he digested the captain's words. The fork in Malcolm's hand was bent at an odd angle. Jon couldn't bear to watch their reaction. "Under other circumstances, I would have wished either of you two the best of luck and turned a blind eye to the fraternization policy. Hoshi is...more than good enough for that. But this...should have never been about your relationship with them. This is about them, about Hoshi. Period. I guess it's too late for that now." Swallowing the tight lump in his throat, Malcolm said, "It's not too late." Trip stared blankly at the armory officer. "Whatever it is between us and the Hoshis, won't factor into their decision, if we show them that we didn't mean anything by what we did," Malcolm was talking to Jon, but his eyes remained locked with the engineer. A look of horror came to Trip's face. "They'd hate us," he breathed. "Yes," he said to Trip, and repeated ominously, "They'd hate us."
Josephine	The look of horror stayed on Trip's face as he contemplated hurting Hoshi-chan. But you're not even sure it did mean anything to her. She might have been competing with Hoshi 'cause she slept with Malcolm...Jon's voice cut into his thoughts. "Convincing the Hoshis that your...being together didn't mean anything might work. But we don't want to sway them the opposite way, into going back because they think they mean nothing to you. "The decision to stay or go has to be up to them, based on how they feel with no other outside influences. How you extricate yourselves from this is up to you. Think about it first. I don't want you going off half-cocked on this, as you did previously." Jon looked at both men, sending a world of meaning in his gaze. He broke it off as the steward entered. "Ah, lunch. I'm starved." The rest of the meal was silent, Trip and Malcolm too wrapped up in their own thoughts to contribute anything to a conversation. After the dishes had been cleared away, Jon smiled slightly at them. "I'm sure you two have a lot to discuss. I'll see you at 1500 hours." Nodding at them, he left the wardroom. Trip shifted slightly in his chair, looking up at Malcolm, who was sitting perfectly still. "Well?" he asked, his drawl thick with stress. "Got any ideas?"
Mara	* * * * * T'Pol left Commander Tucker before he entered the captain's mess--she had no desire to witness the confrontation that was to come. She ran through the list of things that needed to be accomplished before 1500 hours, and found most were done. Her steps turned toward the quarters currently occupied by Ensign Sato...the one who had asked to be called Hoshi-chan. She had attempted to contact the ensign previously and had been rebuffed, but time was running short. T'Pol chimed for entrance, waiting 4.5 seconds (the longest time it took to respond under normal circumstances) before she chimed again. While unwilling to admit to exasperation, T'Pol noted that the duties of a first officer on a human vessel were varied and unusual. She stepped to a communications console and keyed in her override. "Ensign Sato, it is most vital that I speak to you." "Sub-commander?" Hoshi-chan's voice squeaked on the last syllable. "I am outside your quarters. May I come in?" "Oh, yes, of course you can. I thought...Never mind." T'Pol stepped into the quarters of Hoshi-chan, nodding in approval at the tidy and uncluttered space. "Has something happened? I heard noises earlier, but I couldn't figure out what they were. And then we dropped out of warp." Hoshi was standing, but it appeared she had been sitting on the bunk. For some reason, there were flower petals scattered on the blanket. T'Pol tilted her head and thought for a moment. "There was an explosion in Engineering earlier, in a plasma conduit, and repairs on the warp drive are under way." T'Pol thought she understood humans, but she could not have predicted what happened next: Hoshi-chan turned white and swayed, nearly falling over. "Ensign?" She studied the ensign as she helped her sit down in her chair "How is Trip? Is he..." The whisper was so quiet that even T'Pol's ears could barely pick it up. "Commander Tucker? He is having lunch with the captain, why do you ask?" Hoshi-chan's face went from pale to flushed in an instant. It took T'Pol a few moments to recognize the reaction as a blush, and a sign of embarrassment. "Oh," Hoshi-chan said, covering her face with her hands. "I thought you were here because something had happened to him, that he'd been hurt." T'Pol thought that was a highly illogical thought process for someone who normally showed every sign of being highly logical, but she was certain this was not the best time to point that out. Undoubtedly the stress of her present situation was causing her to lose her grasp of logic. Very unfortunate. And what she said next was unlikely to assist the ensign in regaining it. "No, Commander Tucker was unhurt in the explosion. I wished to speak to you before the meeting with the captain at 1500 hours." Hoshi-chan looked up. "I don't suppose you have any helpful advice to offer." "No. I thought you should know that Starfleet has contacted the captain. He has been given two choices: re-integrate you and your counterpart, or return you to Earth for observation." Hoshi-chan simply stared at her for a long moment, and her lips started to twitch in a most alarming fashion. Finally, she said in a strangled voice, "Well, this just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?" "Pardon me?" T'Pol wondered if she was witnessing a human nervous breakdown. She had never seen one before, and was uncertain how she would know. Hoshi-chan's lips twitched more and she started to giggle of all things. "We've been illustrating Murphy's Law pretty regularly around here, but even for us this is getting to be a bit much, don't you think? What's next? Are we going to be attacked by giant weasels or something?" "Murphy's Law?" T'Pol grasped on to the one scientific-sounding thing the ensign had said. Hoshi-chan looked up at her, her giggles turned into outright laughter, and she doubled over. T'Pol stood in place, trying to determine a course of action. Who should she contact? In that moment of indecision, Hoshi-chan looked up at her and managed to slow her laughter. "I'm okay, Sub-commander. Chalk this up to a release of tension." Ah, this was something T'Pol understood, and she relaxed. Hoshi-chan wiped her eyes and sat back in the chair. "I'm sorry for the display of emotion." "That is quite all right, Ensign. You are in a most unusual situation." "Yes, I am. Or rather, we are." Hoshi-chan looked thoughtful now. "And so far my twin and I haven't dealt very well with it. I've set out to discuss the situation with her several times, and each time I've been sidetracked. I think it's time that ends." "An excellent idea. When I last saw her she was with Lieutenant Reed; however, since he is currently eating with Captain Archer, I do not know where she is." "She was with Malcolm?" Hoshi-chan's eyebrows nearly met her hairline. "Curiouser and curiouser. I wonder if they..." She stopped and blinked up at T'Pol. "Both Trip and Malcolm are eating with the captain? When the warp drive is under repair?" "Yes. I found that illogical as well." "Oh, I get it." Hoshi-chan was tapping her fingers on her desk. "Those busybodies are in there talking about us." "There are other issues they could be discussing," T'Pol felt compelled to note. "Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you." "I am not paranoid, Ensign." "It's a saying, Sub-commander. Never mind." Hoshi-chan stood up. "Thank you very much for informing me. I assume my twin has already been informed?" When T'Pol nodded, she strode toward the door. "Three hours. We've faced tougher deadlines, I suppose." * * * * * After Malcolm left her to go meet the captain for lunch, Hoshi stalked restlessly around the ship, avoiding her crewmates. Unsure what to do, she knew she didn't want more exercise, she wasn't hungry, and she didn't want to talk to anyone. The more she walked, the more worked up she became, until she was standing at the door of her quarters, too angry to be in public. That was where Hoshi-chan eventually found Hoshi, the latter pacing back and forth, muttering furiously and rather profanely in at least five languages. Hoshi-chan's eyes widened at some words she'd forgotten she even knew. Hoshi whirled as the door opened, and before it even had time to whoosh shut, she was shouting. "Have you heard? T'Pol told me. Can you believe the nerve?" "Calm down," Hoshi-chan said. "Calm down? Are you kidding? After everything we've done for Starfleet, they come up-" "Quiet!" Hoshi's mouth shut with an audible click and she stared at her twin with obvious amusement and dawning respect in her eyes. "Yes, ma'am." "Sit down." "Yes, ma'am." "Stop that." Hoshi opened her mouth, but after a warning look from Hoshi-chan, she closed it again and sat in the lone chair. "We need to talk," Hoshi-chan said, sitting down on the bed. "Damn it, I don't want to talk, I want to do something." "Too bad. It's time for us to make our decision and we're not leaving here until we do." "And I thought you were a timid little mouse. Silly me." The two women stared at each other, with that strange feeling you get when you look at a picture of yourself, as if it were familiar...but not quite. Then they looked away, each one lost in her own thoughts. Some interminable and uncomfortable time later, Hoshi-chan spoke. "I think...I think we need to go through with it." "Why?" "Many reasons. We don't know what will happen to us if we remain separate, perhaps our bodies will begin to break down. I worry about what we lost when our minds diverged. And I have no desire to be a guinea pig for Starfleet's scientists. If someone's going to experiment on us, I'd rather it were our crewmates." "You're afraid." Hoshi-chan practically snarled the words. "Aren't you?" Hoshi's face would have been unreadable to anyone else, but Hoshi-chan knew that she'd scored a hit. Her twin was afraid as well. There was another long pause. "Kind of damned if we do, damned if we don't," Hoshi said. "Mm-hmm." "Well, I'd rather take action than sit around and wait to see what happens." "I thought you might." "Ha ha, very funny." Another long pause. "You know, the re-integration might kill us," Hoshi-chan said, forcing the words past the lump in her throat. "Staying apart might kill us, too. At least if we succeed in re-integrating we'll be alive and we can stay out of the clutches of the scientists." "Who will we be? Will we remember anything?" "I don't know." Hoshi put her head in her hands. "I wish I could talk to Trip about this, but I can't. If I ask his advice, he might feel guilty if we decided to stay apart and something happened." "I know what you mean." Hoshi's smile was twisted as she looked up. "Malcolm wants to help, but how can I put a decision like this on his shoulders? We've got to do this on our own. Whatever happens if we're put back together, will happen." "I'm in love with Trip." Hoshi-chan's voice was very small, and she rather expected Hoshi to laugh at her again. "And I've definitely fallen for our armory officer. I even told him so. He loves me, too." Hoshi put her head back in her hands as Hoshi-chan looked at her in surprise at the admission. She'd told Malcolm she loved him? Hoshi really was the braver of the two of them, or the more foolhardy. Hoshi-chan wasn't sure which. Hoshi continued. "But if we don't reintegrate, Starfleet's gonna lock us up and we're not going to have either of them." "We really are damned if we do and damned if we don't." "Yeah." Hoshi-chan felt tears welling in her eyes and she wrapped her arms around herself. Her vision blurred from the tears, she felt the bed shift and Hoshi sit down, pulling her against her shoulder. Hoshi-chan gave in to the tears, and she sobbed out her frustration, her fear, and her anger on the other woman. When the tears slowed, Hoshi got up for a moment, bringing Hoshi-chan tissues to blow her nose. "That was kinda weird," Hoshi said. "Mm. I wonder if people born as twins feel like this, too." Hoshi-chan managed a small smile. "Well, they get their whole lives to get used to it. We've had a couple of days." Hoshi got up and started to pace again, and this time Hoshi-chan let her, she could see how much the other woman needed to work off excess energy. "Part of me," Hoshi-chan said slowly, "wants to re-integrate because I want back the strength you have." "And I want the calm that you have." Hoshi stopped pacing and they stared at each other. "We're going to do it." Hoshi said. It wasn't a question. "Yes." "We need to...we need to say good-bye to Malcolm and Trip." "I guess so. If it works, they won't be getting back exactly the same person." "There's still some time before the meeting. Let's go find 'em and we'll meet back at 1500. We can announce our decision to everyone else then." Hoshi seemed much calmer now that the deciding was done. Hoshi-chan sighed as they walked out of the room. She really didn't know what she was going to say to Trip, and she was even less certain what his reaction would be.
Josephine	She found him in Engineering, leaning over a screen checking over the repairs for the warp drive with Lieutenant Mitchell. While she waited for him, she looked around at the various crewmen working on the engine. Something seemed off; Hoshi-chan realized they weren't frantically scurrying about like they usually did when the drive was down. "Ensign." Startled, she looked up to see Trip standing next to her, his face inscrutable. Those blue eyes of his, usually open and guileless, were now closed and shuttered. "Trip...Commander. May I speak with you?" Without a word he turned and moved toward his small office. Closing the door, he sat down behind his desk, motioning Hoshi-chan to a chair. Refusing, she paced the miniscule open space. "You've decided to go." It was a statement, not a question; given in a flat tone of voice. "Yes, we have." Trip worked hard to stay nonchalant. "Probably for the best, anyway. Really isn't anythin' t' keep you here." Hoshi-chan shot him a glance under her lashes. "Hoshi has Malcolm..." "He'll still be there when you're together again. You shouldn't mind too much, there must be somethin' in Malcolm you like for Hoshi t' fall for him." "Malcolm's a good man." Hoshi-chan's throat had begun to tighten up when out of the corner of her eye she saw Trip's knee slightly bouncing up and down. She surreptitiously watched it as she spoke next. "It would be easy to learn to love him." It bounced faster. "He's kind, considerate, and he loves Hoshi, and I guess by default me, very much." The knee was practically a blur. You do care, Mr. Tucker. Before Hoshi-chan could speak, Trip jumped up. "Listen, Ensign, I have a lot of repair work t' do on the engines. Is there anythin' else you wanted t' talk t' me about? 'Cause if not..." He let his voice die out. "About last night..." Hoshi-chan tried not to stare as Trip's hand clenched into a fist, knuckles turning white. "I hope you didn't think that it meant anythin'..." Trip answered a little too quickly. "Of course not." Hoshi shook her head. "Then don't give it another thought. I haven't. If that's all?" At Hoshi-chan's nod, he keyed open the door for her. "Good bye, Ensign." "Good bye, Commander." * * * * * Hoshi-chan sat in her cabin, looking at the Starfleet logo on the screen on her desk. She understood why Trip had been so off-hand earlier; not wanting to influence her decision to stay or go. That didn't make it any easier to leave him so casually. "Computer, begin recording letter to Commander Tucker, to be delivered today at 1530." She and Hoshi had decided to re-integrate right after the meeting. No sense in delaying the inevitable. He should receive the letter after the deed was done. "My dearest Trip ..." * * * * *
Mara	Malcolm knelt in an out-of-the-way section of the armory, beside a section of the phase cannon, mindlessly running diagnostics. His subconscious had brought him here, to the one place he felt comfortable, the one place he was totally in control. He tried to forget the upcoming meeting, the meeting where he would hear if the woman he'd realized he loved was going to...what? Disappear? Die? How could you even describe it? The padd beeped to remind him he hadn't acknowledged the completed diagnostic. The cannon was, of course, working just fine. Better than fine. His team had installed and tweaked the bloody thing so well, Jupiter Station would be jealous. He should be proud. Instead, he was mooning about, he thought, completely gormless. A soft sound behind him almost made him drop the padd: Hoshi's footsteps approaching. He knelt there, head bowed over the padd, barely breathing. "Malcolm?" she called. She sounded edgy, upset, and for a moment he froze in unusual indecision; half of him desperate to hold and soothe her, the other half furious over his raised hopes. "Malcolm?" She sounded annoyed, and he turned and rose. "Hoshi." She was fidgeting a little in the doorway, unable to stand entirely still. He knew what that meant. "You've come to tell me the decision. You and Hoshi-chan are going to go through with it." To his own ears, his voice sounded emotionless, and he wondered what Hoshi heard. "Yes." She looked down, then back up at him. "I suppose I wanted to tell you before you heard it in the meeting. I wanted to say goodbye." "Goodbye." Back rigid, hands clasped firmly, but not too firmly, chin up. Grown men don't cry. Her face crumpled. "Goodbye? That's what I get? Gee thanks, Malcolm, what's next, a brisk handshake? Dismiss me and move on with your life?" Hold on to the anger. Hold on to it. Be angry at the world. Anger is better than sadness. He wasn't sure if the thoughts were for him or for Hoshi. "What happened to 'I'm in love with you'?" Her voice rose and took on a British accent. "What would be the point? The captain has already reprimanded me for being so foolish. And soon..." He couldn't finish, his throat tightening up. She took a breath, closed her eyes and stood in the doorway for a long moment. He used that moment to study her, her face so like Hoshi-chan, but with that something different about her, that spark of mischief or maybe restlessness; something he couldn't define that differentiated her from her twin, made her the Hoshi he loved. Her eyes opened and her mouth twisted into a rueful smile. "Maybe it's all for the best. I just keep hurting you, don't I?" He bowed his head, unable to articulate a response. She came closer, but even when her hand gently caressed his cheek, he didn't look up. "It's okay, Malcolm. I understand," she said, "and I'm sorry." The black of his boots against the deck was mesmerizing, and most certainly better than looking into her eyes. The soft sound of her footsteps moved slowly away. "Goodbye, Malcolm. I love you." "I love you too," he said under his breath. * * * * * Hoshi-chan paused the recording for the third time, closing her eyes and swallowing back the tears that threatened to spill over. Her chest felt like an elephant was sitting on her lungs, and her head was pounding again. Too bad there wasn't time to get another shot from the doctor, but this recording had to be done soon. She restarted it. "It took me a while to understand how you felt. I wish I'd known sooner, but things moved so fast...Trip, I just don't know what's going to happen. I can't tell you how I'm going to feel once I'm no longer me, when Hoshi and I are together again. Maybe I won't even remember the past days, but I wanted you to know that what we had was real. "Don't forget me. I mean, me, Hoshi-chan. But don't pine away for me, either. I know you, Trip, better than you think I do. You've got a romantic streak in you a light-year wide, and if you took a notion, you'd set me up as the perfect woman, the only woman you could ever love. "Don't flatter me that much. Move on. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for taking care of me. Goodbye, Trip." She stopped the recording, and allowed herself to cry for a few minutes, head buried in her hands, knees pulled up to her chin. Then she washed her face in cold water until it was no longer red, and began to put her quarters in order. She smiled a little at the habit from her childhood: as long as her room was clean, somehow everything else became more bearable. It was almost 1500. Almost time to face the music. * * * * * The gathering in main Engineering looked more like a funeral procession than anything else, Jon thought as he watched everyone trail in. Then he slapped that thought down firmly and tried to be optimistic about the upcoming operation. T'Pol, Phlox and the entire engineering, scientific, and medical team had studied the procedure and approved it, but they were beyond uncharted territory here, into the realm of WAG: Wild Ass Guesses. The most painful thing was watching how Trip and Malcolm avoided looking at the two Hoshis, who calmly sat, not quite touching, in the middle of the whole mess while everyone bustled around them. Wires ran all around them, to and from various bits of equipment, giving them an appearance much too reminiscent of when the repair station had tried to use Travis as a computer. Jon's fingers itched to pull the wires out and tell the women (the woman?) to not put themselves in more danger, but it wasn't his decision. It seemed like hours, but it was probably only a few minutes, before T'Pol approved the final connections, looked at him and then the two Hoshis, and said, "We are ready to begin." "Do it," one said. The other just swallowed and nodded her head. Trip stood at one console and T'Pol at the other, while Phlox stood by with a full medical kit, ready for any eventuality. It was surreal, Jon thought, how quiet the whole thing was, a few clicks, an occasional beep, and Trip and T'Pol each monitoring their readings. Hoshi and Hoshi-chan had closed their eyes, and he could see their chests rising and falling rapidly. Everyone else in the room was apparently holding their breath, so the Hoshis' rapid breathing echoed harshly off the deck plating. Just as Jon started to let out the breath he'd been holding, the quiet was broken by a sound, something like a shriek combined with a pop, then a flash of light that blinded him. Jon blinked his eyes clear, then almost choked. There were still two Hoshis, but now they lay sprawled half off their seats, smoke hovering over their heads, and Phlox and Liz Cutler were running toward them. The two identical faces were identically slack in unconsciousness. Light-headed, he waved away smoke and said to no one in particular, "What happened?" T'Pol, her eyes moving between her console and Hoshi, answered. "We failed. The transporter relays could not handle the-" "Spare me the technical details, Sub-commander. Will they be okay?" T'Pol watched Phlox for a few moments. "I do not know." "Damn it!" Jon turned away, unable to look at the scene any longer. "God damnit!" His anger grew and he was ready to shout, until out of the corner of his eye he saw Trip and Malcolm--both obviously in agony, unable to do anything to help. Trip's face was a study in conflicting emotions, each one chased off in mere moments by the next; his hands clenched and unclenched, and he was visibly shaking. Malcolm, on the other hand, was absolutely still, and Jon's heart sank. The man was more Vulcan than T'Pol in that moment, his face seemingly made of marble, not a flicker of expression betraying what he was thinking. But Jon could guess what both men were thinking, and if his guess was even half-right, linguists were not the only potential loss this day. Damn it, if he couldn't blame them for the current situation, there had to be someone he could pound on for this. Phlox and Liz bustled by with the crewmen carrying Hoshi and Hoshi-chan to Sickbay, trailed by a group of worried engineers. Jon shook himself all over and followed the crowd. * * * * * The door to Sickbay slid open and Jon blinked back a painful sense of déjà vu at the scene before him: Trip and Malcolm each hovering over a bed containing Hoshi, Phlox trying to work while a seeming horde of concerned crew got in his way. But this time, Hoshi and Hoshi-chan were firmly unconscious. Time to play my part in this farce, Jon thought. "Out! Everybody out!" Nobody argued with him and he wondered a bit just how pissed he looked. T'Pol was the last to leave, glancing back at Trip and Malcolm, but apparently deciding not to say anything about their presence. She paused in front of him, and he looked her square in the face, allowing his anguish to show for a moment. She nodded once and slowly reached for the button to open the door. "Contact me if there is anything I can do," she finally said. The very human phrase sounded stilted on her lips--and Jon wondered where she'd learned it--but she wouldn't have said it if she didn't mean it. "I will," he said, and she left. Trip and Malcolm hadn't even bothered to look up while everyone was leaving, and Jon wasn't entirely certain they'd even heard him shout. He found himself moving slowly toward the two biobeds, drawn by an almost masochistic impulse to look at Hoshi and Hoshi-chan. They were so still, all the animation that made up their personalities--and for the first time Jon allowed himself to realize they really were two people--completely missing. Every time Phlox moved, Jon wanted to shout at him to hurry up, to make them better, to fix this. An eternity later, Phlox turned from his machines and cleared his throat. That got Trip and Malcolm's attention, and they looked up from the biobeds for the first time. The pain in their eyes made Jon's throat tight with fear. "I'm afraid the news is mixed, gentlemen," Phlox said. "That they are alive at all can only be considered good news, but the failed reintegration has severely shocked their systems." "Are they gonna die?" Trip's voice sounded strangled. "It is difficult to say. There is no record of an incident like this in the medical records--the transporters are just too new. The Sub-commander has gone to query the Vulcans, to see if they have any useful data." "What's wrong with them?" Malcolm asked. Phlox looked at Hoshi and Hoshi-chan. "It appears to be a form of allergic reaction. Their bodies are reacting as if they were invaded by a foreign substance." Jon stared at him. "But you said they were identical." "They are, Captain, in every way that I could determine. But it seems that they do not agree. They rejected each other." "What would have happened if the transporter relays hadn't blown?" Trip's voice rose. Phlox hesitated. "It is possible that they would have adjusted. Or they might have died immediately." "What now?" Jon asked. "If I am correct and they are in anaphylactic shock, then it should be eminently treatable. But this is more complicated than an insect bite or Lieutenant Reed's allergies. I simply cannot say for certain until I have had more time to watch them. They are stable for now, but unconscious." Trip turned to look at Jon. "But even if they're okay, Starfleet's gonna turn 'em into lab rats, Cap'n!" Jon's face suddenly lit with a fierce grin. If his communications officers survived this experience, they were going to stay right where they belonged. He'd finally found someone he could pound, and by god, he was going to pound on Starfleet until they cried for mercy. Filled with the fire of righteousness, Jon stomped his way to the bridge, hapless crewmen scattering in his wake. Halfway to his ready room, he opened his mouth to tell Hoshi to get Starfleet on the comm. Stopping in his tracks, he turned and glared across the bridge at the poor ensign sitting in Hoshi's spot, who looked like a trapped animal. "Get me Admiral Forrest. Now. I don't care if he's in a meeting with the entire Vulcan delegation, get him." Without waiting for an answer, he stomped his way off the bridge, hearing a terrified "yes, sir" behind him. Jon stared at the screen in his ready room and tried to control his breathing; he felt as if he'd run a marathon, heart pounding, vision graying a bit. Finally: "Admiral Forrest on the line now, sir." "Put him through." The Admiral looked the same as always, and Jon fought down the urge to punch the screen. "Is something wrong, Jon? Has Ensign Sato made a decision?" Jon clenched his fists. "Yes, sir, they made a decision. Thanks to Starfleet railroading them, they decided to attempt the reintegration rather than become guinea pigs. And now they're lying in Sickbay, with the doctor uncertain if they're going to live. I may lose not one but two linguists, and the two damn best linguists in Starfleet!" Not to mention the best engineer and best armory officer, but there was no way he was going to tell the admiral that. "That's...unfortunate." "Unfortunate!" Jon lost whatever semblance of calm he'd had. "It's easy for you to sit back there on Earth and say it's unfortunate, but I'm the one who had to tell Hoshi your decision. I'm the one who stood there while we nearly killed two women who were out here doing their best for Starfleet." "Jon, I-" "Through no fault of their own, they were split in two and instead of providing support and guidance in a difficult moment, all Starfleet could think of was the possible political ramifications. What, were you afraid this might annoy the Vulcans? Bother a few idiot politicians?" "Jon!" His breathing ragged, he came to a stop, distantly realizing he'd been yelling at his superior officer, but he didn't give a damn. Admiral Forrest looked as if he couldn't decide whether to be angry or worried. "What happened?" "The reintegration began, but the transporter relays blew and the shock knocked them both out. But the doctor thinks that the reintegration wouldn't have finished anyway, he says their bodies were rejecting each other. We nearly killed them." "Damn." Forrest looked away from the screen. "Jon, I'm going to forget about your little outburst, because I know how hard this must be for you. You brought Ensign Sato on board and-" "Sir, with all due respect, I'm not worried about my career, I'm worried about my crew. It's my job to protect them, to take care of them, and I failed. Ensign Sato, excuse me, the Ensigns Sato, are not going to leave this ship against their will while I'm its captain. If you choose to remove me, I will recommend the same to my replacement. Then I will contact the people of Earth, and the assembled crews of Starfleet, and tell them what happened." "You're not exactly making this easy." Jon just watched him, seeing the play of expression. He'd known Admiral Forrest a long time, and he could guess at the thoughts running through his head, imagining the fuss an angry ex-Captain Archer could cause--not to mention the sympathetic picture of two Hoshi Satos. "I can't make this decision on my own," he said finally. Jon crossed his arm and just stared. "I'll consult with the brass and get back to you." "Yes, sir." Even knowing that was the best result he could expect, the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. He stared at the screen as it blanked to the usual logo, momentarily vacillating on his chosen course of action. It really could cost him his career. The vision of Hoshi and Hoshi-chan lying on the biobeds rose up and he took a deep breath, tapping the comm button. "Get me Admiral Leonard. Then Admiral Ramirez. In fact, get me every damn Admiral on the Council." "Aye, sir." * * * * * Phlox divided his attention between studying the monitors for Hoshi and Hoshi-chan and keeping an eye on their two attendants--Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed looked almost as unhealthy as the two women they hovered over. Meanwhile, he continued to wrack his brain for another approach to take. They were not getting any worse, but neither were they getting any better, and that was simply unacceptable. The epinephrine, corticosteroids, and Dagallian beetle syrup he'd dosed them with had stabilized them, so apparently his guess (and internally he admitted it was a guess) had been correct. They had been rejecting the reintegration, their bodies or their minds reacting as if they'd been invaded by a foreign substance. He looked up sharply from his computer and looked at Hoshi and Hoshi-chan. If it wasn't physical, perhaps it was psychological? True, he held a degree in psychiatry, but that was by no means his specialty, especially interspecies psychiatry. Diagnosing sexual frustration, a bit of homesickness, depression, these were well within his abilities, but how a human would react to being split apart and then forced back together? Phlox felt a surge of guilt at approving the procedure, a feeling that he should have known this would happen. Ruthlessly, he suppressed the guilt, it would only stand in the way of curing his patients, and that was the only thing that mattered right now. If they were, in fact, refusing to wake up for psychological reasons, there was little he could do except keep their bodies alive--the first step of which was not going to be popular at all. He walked toward the biobeds, and Trip and Malcolm looked up, hope in their eyes. "Commander, Lieutenant, I will need your assistance." "Anything, Doc." Phlox looked at Commander Tucker for a moment. "Since they have been unconscious for several hours, for their health, I must assume that they will remain so for some time. We must take steps to keep their bodies healthy." "Steps? What kind of steps?" Lieutenant Reed looked as if he was ready to fling himself between Ensign Sato and any danger, and Phlox sighed. "We must provide physical stimulation to their bodies, to ensure that no atrophy occurs. That stimulation has, on some occasions, triggered an awakening in patients with no underlying physical symptoms." Tucker's eyes focused sharply on Phlox at that. "No physical symptoms? You mean they're shamming or something?" "Of course not. However, they have been under a great deal of strain, and it is possible they are simply not struggling to awaken. We cannot allow that. In addition to the physical activity, I would recommend that each of you speak to them, explain to them that they should wake up. Meanwhile, I will make the physical arrangements. I should warn you that it will not be...attractive." Without waiting for a response, Phlox turned to his medical supplies, already mentally cataloguing what he would need. Behind him, he could hear Tucker's voice. "Darlin', I guess Phlox thinks you might be able to hear us, so...I got your message, and..." * * * * * Deep into ship's night, Phlox stood once again between the biobeds. The monitors showed no change, and his two volunteer attendants had fallen asleep in chairs next to the biobeds, exhausted both physically and mentally. As he'd expected, both Tucker and Reed had been deeply disturbed by the physical stimulation. Wires hooked to both mind and body relayed pulses, causing a jerking motion in Hoshi and Hoshi-chan's muscles. Unfortunately, it looked as if they were suffering from constant seizures, and they had to be tied to the biobeds. Phlox had completed every single maintenance task he could think of, had tidied his work area three times, and fed every animal and plant that he possibly could. Which left him watching the four people in Sickbay. If either or both ensigns died, it would need the efforts of more than an alien with a degree in psychiatry to handle the reactions on this ship, from its captain down to the merest crewman. The first two deaths of the mission, and in such an ignominious fashion, would hit hard. It might be worse, though, if they slipped from a coma into a persistent vegetative state. Phlox was startled out of his reverie by the first change in the monitors he'd seen in several hours. Hoshi's biobed beeped to get his attention and both Tucker and Reed jumped out of their chairs in alarm. "What's wrong? What's happening?" Reed yelled. Staring intently at the monitor, Phlox had to check the readings twice to be certain, before breaking into a wide grin. "I believe that Ensign Sato is showing definite signs of awakening!" Phlox turned off the physical stimulators and Hoshi's eyelids flickered. Reed stared down at her, his eyes very wide. * * * * * Jon paced back and forth in his ready room, counting the steps compulsively in an effort to not worry. He was remarkably unsuccessful. Fortunately for the sanity of the bridge crew, he successfully resisted the urge to comm the bridge every five minutes and ask if Starfleet had contacted him yet. In fact, after spending a few minutes on the bridge peering over the shoulders of the crew, he retreated back to his ready room in order to stop disturbing them. Assuming he would be of even less assistance in Sickbay, he paced. And he counted. When the door chimed, he turned so fast, he rammed his head into the strut protruding from the ceiling. "Yes," he managed to get out. T'Pol stepped through. Her mouth opened, but Jon was destined to never learn what she was about to say, as his comm beeped. "Captain, this is Doctor Phlox, please report to Sickbay immediately." "On my way." Jon jumped toward the door, but only took one step before the comm beeped again. "Captain, Admiral Forrest is on the line." Jon looked at T'Pol. She nodded. "I will join the doctor in Sickbay." And she was gone. "Put the Admiral through, Ensign." A few moments of silence, then: "Well, Jon, you've certainly been busy, haven't you?" * * * * * When Jon slammed through the door to Sickbay fifteen minutes later, he was surprised at how calm everything was. His eyebrows shot up at the sight of Hoshi in Malcolm's lap, the latter's arms curved around her. Phlox was bent over an unmoving Hoshi-chan, and for once, Jon couldn't read the expression on Trip's face. The doctor somehow heard the movement behind him and turned. Jon flinched slightly at that wide grin that always made his jaws ache, then his eyes shot to the woman still on the biobed. "Hoshi-chan? Is she..." "I have every reason to believe she will be fine, Captain." Phlox's grin became impossibly wider. "She is simply taking a little longer to recover." Trip's head lifted slowly, as he realized who had come in. "She looked at me, Cap'n. She opened her eyes, and she recognized me." Jon wanted to sag against the wall and sit there for a few days, but he still had news to deliver. T'Pol spoke from her position next to the doctor. "Has Starfleet made its decision yet?" All eyes, even Hoshi's, turned toward him. Phlox seemed unconcerned about the possible effect of the news on his two patients, so Jon took a deep breath. "Admiral Forrest informs me that both Ensigns Sato will retain their current positions as communications officers and linguists aboard the Enterprise. They are asking for a full report on the accident that led to this situation, but the requirement to return to Earth for 'observation' has been rescinded." Trip whooped and jumped around T'Pol and Phlox to lean over Hoshi-chan. "D'you hear that, darlin'? You're staying right here!" Malcolm and Hoshi looked up at him--the former only showing the relief in his eyes, the latter managing a weak grin. "Thank you, Captain." "You're welcome, Hoshi." Phlox resumed bustling about the two ensigns, dragging Hoshi back onto the biobed for further examination, and Jon retreated to lean wearily against a wall and observe. T'Pol stepped over to stand next to him. "Will you tell them the efforts you went to in order to achieve this result?" "What?" He looked at her, calm face tilted in mild inquiry. "How do you know-" "I was contacted by several members of the Vulcan delegation with urgent queries about a disturbance at Starfleet headquarters, reportedly involving Enterprise. Since I am unaware of any other controversial issues involving this ship, I surmised that you had been in contact with Starfleet Command. Based on your previous statements and actions, I doubted you would be willing to hand over Ensign Sato." "Very logical, Sub-commander." "Thank you, Captain." He watched the five other people in Sickbay, Hoshi-chan lifting a hand and sitting up with some assistance. "I feel responsible," he said finally. "You could not have predicted that the mission that caused Ensign Sato to be transported-" "Not for that. I feel responsible for pressuring them to reintegrate. I was so busy chewing out Trip and Malcolm that I didn't see how much I wanted to solve this problem by having one comm officer again." He grinned. "Not that their behavior was that great, but I wasn't much better." "Is the outcome satisfactory?" "Are you asking if everything turned out okay?" "If you like." Jon watched the joy on Trip's face as Hoshi-chan turned to look at him. Slowly, he felt all of his tensed muscles relax, as he realized the worst was over. "Well, we've certainly had unhappier endings." * * * * * Epilogue One: It took two more days before Phlox allowed Hoshi and Hoshi-chan to leave Sickbay. Trip and Malcolm managed to tear themselves away long enough to work their regular shifts, but both appeared on the doorstep when it was time to take the women away. Phlox was grinning, and Trip suspected he was taking notes, but couldn't find it in his heart to care. All that mattered was Hoshi-chan: the way she looked, how much clearer her speech was, the improved motor coordination. He wanted to carry her back to her quarters, but she refused as she pinned her hair up in its normal severe style. "I want to walk, even if it takes me all afternoon." "Are you sure you're not really the other Hoshi?" Trip teased, and both looked across the room, where Malcolm was glaring at Hoshi. "No, looks like she's even more stubborn than you are. What's up with them, anyway?" Hoshi-chan leaned over and whispered in his ear. "I think he wants her to move into his quarters, but she refused." Trip's eyebrows shot up, then he grinned. "Oh, they're gonna be fun to watch, aren't they?" "And what makes you think I'm going to be any easier to deal with?" she asked, a smile hovering over her lips. "Nothing, darlin', and I wouldn't have it any other way." Trip gently kissed her forehead. "I let you go once, and that's one too many times." "Yes, about that. We really need to discuss self-sacrificing tendencies in certain chief engineers..." "Only if I get to introduce a certain letter explaining why I should go on with my life without you." Trip grinned harder as she blushed slightly under his regard. "Oh." "'Oh' is right. How about if we just announce that we were both wrong and we start over." "That sounds nice," she said, and he leaned forward to kiss her. Everything's gonna be okay, Trip thought as their lips touched. * * * * * Epilogue Two: "Damn it, Hoshi, you are the most stubborn, pig-headed-" "I thought that's why you love me," she said, her face covered in an angelic smile. Malcolm's only response was to grit his teeth, and she continued to smile up at him as she pinned her hair into a much looser version of the normal ponytail. He took several deep breaths, then tried again. "I don't understand." "Obviously." Malcolm soldiered on in the face of snarky opposition. "After everything we went through, I thought we'd worked this out." She sobered, and looked down at her hands. "Malcolm, everything moved so fast. I haven't had a chance to figure out who I am separate from Hoshi-chan, let alone what my relationship to you really means." Malcolm looked down at the floor. "Fine. Well, I'll just let you get on with-" "You idiot," she said, tipping his head up with her fingers. "I'm sorry I keep hurting you, but this time you're just not listening to me. I'm not rejecting you, I'm just not ready to move into your quarters. I want some time on my own. I still love you, my darling idiot." A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth at her words and her answering smile made his heart sing. He leaned forward to wipe the smile off with a kiss. Everything will be fine, Malcolm thought as their lips touched. * * * * * The End