Disclaimer: Guess what? I don't own the Star Trek franchise. So don't sue
me. I have to work at the Pretzelmaker in a non-air conditioned mall all
summer for minimum wage. That's punishment enough for any offense I might
cause with this story.
Author's Note: This chapter comes to you from Jon's POV.
-------
It reminds me of a dream I have pretty often. Everything around me is shrouded by darkness. Loneliness, really. I can't even see myself. It suffocates me as I try to fight off the horrible feeling of dread. But then, I'm saved. A voice softly calls my name. I'm surrounded by its echoing sound. This is the point when I usually wake up. In my quarters with my body lightly covered in sweat and achingly alone. But not this time. The beautiful voice is so real this time. As if my savior is actually calling my name. But that won't happen. It can't happen. So I decide to open my eyes prepared to confront the stark emptiness of my quarters. I'm greeting by a completely unexpected sight.
Malcolm? His extraordinary grayish-blue eyes are watching me with concern and nervousness brimming in them. But it strikes me. I came to his quarters with a copy of Ulysses in my hand. I didn't know what I expected to happen. It was a moment of weakness. All I wanted was one smile, a barely restrained laugh, something…anything to fight the darkness with. I almost chickened out when he answered the door with a distant and formal, ""Is there something you needed, sir?" I could think off a lot of different and interesting responses to that question so my eyes darted around until they landed on something promising. Malcolm had answered his door with a PADD on the basics of water polo in his hand. I'm pretty sure I didn't expect that.
"Jon?...Sir?"
Great. He's back to calling me sir. I think I could have died a happy man when he called me Jon the first time. I wonder what it would sound like if he said while we were making love. I need to focus. There's no reason to daydream. Malcolm is sitting right beside me. "I'm sorry, Malcolm. I think I spaced out there for a minute."
The corners of his mouth turn up in little grin. The image of Porthos after he's snuck another piece of cheese pops up in my head. What is he smiling about?
"Actually, you fell asleep." Of all the stupid and embarrassing things I could have done, I think that tops the list. Days of staring at him out of the corner of my eye hoping to catch him looking back. Nights of wishing he was curled up beside me. And I fall asleep. What could have possibly caused me to doze off? Then, it hits me. Malcolm had suggested that Ulysses was understood better if it was read aloud. So we had moved so we were sitting up against the pillows on his meticulously made bed and Malcolm began to read. I had drifted off listening to that caressing accent. I don't know whether to damn Joyce or to dig him up out of his grave and kiss him.
"Had nothing to do with the company, I assure you. Please tell me I wasn't out too long. "
I watch curiously as a blush works its way up Malcolm's neck and lightly covers his cheeks. He suddenly develops an aversion to looking at me as the next words out of his mouth go straight to my heart.
"Only a few minutes. I…I was…I was watching you sleep."
That explained the nervousness in his eyes. With the exception of my father, I can't remember anyone ever watching me sleep. The mere thought of Malcolm's gray eyes watching me, even for only a few minutes, is enough to arouse me. Things are going have to move very slowly. There were hurdles to overcome yet. But that, of course, doesn't seem to stop my body from adding its opinion on the matter. Malcolm keeps himself hidden by this imaginary wall of distance and formality. But the real him sneaks out sometimes. Little bits of his sense of humor. The passion he likes everyone to think only revolves around causing massive explosions. But since I've walked into his quarters this night, I've seen more of Malcolm than ever before. It's as if he's made a decision to leave Lieutenant Reed at the door. But I still don't what he thinks of all this. He called me Jon and held my hand but I need to know where we stand. Or where I stand with him.
"Malcolm…I need to know. What do you want?"
He's my armory officer. So one would think that I would expect Malcolm to be able to move quickly. But not as quickly as he's dropped my hand, jumped off the bed, and assumed the rigid posture of a well-trained soldier. Damn. Lieutenant Reed is back. I moved too fast. How can I make him understand? I swing my legs around so once again I'm sitting on the edge of his bed with my head down and he's standing at attention before me. Somehow I doubt that history will repeat itself this time and he'll sit beside me and we'll share a laugh. I can't look at him. I don't think I could handle seeing raging emotions in those eyes of his. Or no emotion at all.
"I'm sorry, sir. I will gladly accept any reprimand you see fit, sir."
Reprimand? I'm the one who approached him. The apology should be mine. Why does Malcolm think I'm upset with him? Probably because I haven't explained myself yet. Slowly, I lift my head and sweep my eyes up Malcolm's gorgeously lean body to reach his eyes. They're filled with anguish and hurt. He's trying to hide it but it's there. And I caused it. I stand up and take a step forward so I'm standing in front of him but not too close. I can't scare him off now. This is the moment. The wrong words here and I'll lose him forever. All I'll have is my dream Malcolm and the haunting memory of a disaster that could have been something greater.
"I want to know you, Malcolm. I want to know what makes your face light up in a giant smile. And what makes you laugh so hard that your ribs ache. I care about you more than I should. And I had to ask because I'm the one that came here. It can't work like that. There are regulations against it. I have to know where you stand. I dream about you. I dream about you wanting me. I don't want to pressure you and I'm not. Please…" My throat's dry. I don't know what else to say. I've placed my heart in the guillotine. I can't look at him any more. The whispered words escape my lips before I can stop them. "Please, Malcolm…I need to know…"
Out of nowhere, there is a hand gently stroking my cheek. It's featherlight and tentative and uncertain and the most beautiful sensation in the universe. I raise my eyes once more and find Malcolm crouched in front of me. The tenderness in his gaze stuns me. If this was the Malcolm Reed I first met on board the Enterprise, I would have had serious doubts about his ability to kill a spider let alone another person.
"I never imagined…I always thought…" The affection in his eyes becomes swirled with frustration and torment as he struggles to find the words. I want to pull him close and hold him like I do in my dreams. But I can't yet. I've gone too far as it is. I know he can do it. Don't give up, Malcolm.
I watch as he closes his eyes and I can see the pain on the rest of his face. It's as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders. Damn it. I've pushed him too far, too fast. It's like walking a mine field. I feel the corner of my mouth turn up in a little smile. Mine fields make me think of weapons which lead my thoughts to the agonizing armory officer before me. And I can't stop the smile. It kills me to know that I've caused all this pain for him. Just because I selfishly wanted to see him. Just because I had to ask him that stupid question. It's time for me to go. It will be awkward and uncomfortable but I can't bear to hurt him anymore. My weight shifts slightly as I start to get up but Malcolm stops me.
The hand that only moments before was cautiously caressing my cheek is now completely lying against it. The world seems to stop as he leans forward and brushes his lips against mine. It didn't even last a millisecond but my whole body feels like its on fire and I desperately want to grab him and assault that teasing mouth with kisses of my own. I focus my attention on the amazing sensation of Malcolm's thumb gently stroking my cheek. I meet Malcolm's gaze and the passion in his eyes bowls me over. The tenderness is still there but I think I like the look of desire in those dark eyes much better.
"I didn't know what to say."
"I think you said it just fine, Malcolm. I pretty sure I know where you stand." And I am. I know he wants me. The evidence is right in front of me. But I don't know why. I really don't want to question lady luck but I have to. There is so much I don't know. The question slips out of my mouth before I realize what I've said. "Why?"
A questioning look passes across his face and I watch as it leaves quickly and a knowing smile takes up residence on Malcolm's face. "You have an uncanny ability to destroy pieces of the façade."
He laughs at his own cryptic answer and I know someday he'll explain it. But that's obviously not tonight. And for once tonight, I don't really feel like asking any more questions.
-----
Feedback appreciated!
ahooper@gladstone.uoregon.edu
Author's Note: This chapter comes to you from Jon's POV.
-------
It reminds me of a dream I have pretty often. Everything around me is shrouded by darkness. Loneliness, really. I can't even see myself. It suffocates me as I try to fight off the horrible feeling of dread. But then, I'm saved. A voice softly calls my name. I'm surrounded by its echoing sound. This is the point when I usually wake up. In my quarters with my body lightly covered in sweat and achingly alone. But not this time. The beautiful voice is so real this time. As if my savior is actually calling my name. But that won't happen. It can't happen. So I decide to open my eyes prepared to confront the stark emptiness of my quarters. I'm greeting by a completely unexpected sight.
Malcolm? His extraordinary grayish-blue eyes are watching me with concern and nervousness brimming in them. But it strikes me. I came to his quarters with a copy of Ulysses in my hand. I didn't know what I expected to happen. It was a moment of weakness. All I wanted was one smile, a barely restrained laugh, something…anything to fight the darkness with. I almost chickened out when he answered the door with a distant and formal, ""Is there something you needed, sir?" I could think off a lot of different and interesting responses to that question so my eyes darted around until they landed on something promising. Malcolm had answered his door with a PADD on the basics of water polo in his hand. I'm pretty sure I didn't expect that.
"Jon?...Sir?"
Great. He's back to calling me sir. I think I could have died a happy man when he called me Jon the first time. I wonder what it would sound like if he said while we were making love. I need to focus. There's no reason to daydream. Malcolm is sitting right beside me. "I'm sorry, Malcolm. I think I spaced out there for a minute."
The corners of his mouth turn up in little grin. The image of Porthos after he's snuck another piece of cheese pops up in my head. What is he smiling about?
"Actually, you fell asleep." Of all the stupid and embarrassing things I could have done, I think that tops the list. Days of staring at him out of the corner of my eye hoping to catch him looking back. Nights of wishing he was curled up beside me. And I fall asleep. What could have possibly caused me to doze off? Then, it hits me. Malcolm had suggested that Ulysses was understood better if it was read aloud. So we had moved so we were sitting up against the pillows on his meticulously made bed and Malcolm began to read. I had drifted off listening to that caressing accent. I don't know whether to damn Joyce or to dig him up out of his grave and kiss him.
"Had nothing to do with the company, I assure you. Please tell me I wasn't out too long. "
I watch curiously as a blush works its way up Malcolm's neck and lightly covers his cheeks. He suddenly develops an aversion to looking at me as the next words out of his mouth go straight to my heart.
"Only a few minutes. I…I was…I was watching you sleep."
That explained the nervousness in his eyes. With the exception of my father, I can't remember anyone ever watching me sleep. The mere thought of Malcolm's gray eyes watching me, even for only a few minutes, is enough to arouse me. Things are going have to move very slowly. There were hurdles to overcome yet. But that, of course, doesn't seem to stop my body from adding its opinion on the matter. Malcolm keeps himself hidden by this imaginary wall of distance and formality. But the real him sneaks out sometimes. Little bits of his sense of humor. The passion he likes everyone to think only revolves around causing massive explosions. But since I've walked into his quarters this night, I've seen more of Malcolm than ever before. It's as if he's made a decision to leave Lieutenant Reed at the door. But I still don't what he thinks of all this. He called me Jon and held my hand but I need to know where we stand. Or where I stand with him.
"Malcolm…I need to know. What do you want?"
He's my armory officer. So one would think that I would expect Malcolm to be able to move quickly. But not as quickly as he's dropped my hand, jumped off the bed, and assumed the rigid posture of a well-trained soldier. Damn. Lieutenant Reed is back. I moved too fast. How can I make him understand? I swing my legs around so once again I'm sitting on the edge of his bed with my head down and he's standing at attention before me. Somehow I doubt that history will repeat itself this time and he'll sit beside me and we'll share a laugh. I can't look at him. I don't think I could handle seeing raging emotions in those eyes of his. Or no emotion at all.
"I'm sorry, sir. I will gladly accept any reprimand you see fit, sir."
Reprimand? I'm the one who approached him. The apology should be mine. Why does Malcolm think I'm upset with him? Probably because I haven't explained myself yet. Slowly, I lift my head and sweep my eyes up Malcolm's gorgeously lean body to reach his eyes. They're filled with anguish and hurt. He's trying to hide it but it's there. And I caused it. I stand up and take a step forward so I'm standing in front of him but not too close. I can't scare him off now. This is the moment. The wrong words here and I'll lose him forever. All I'll have is my dream Malcolm and the haunting memory of a disaster that could have been something greater.
"I want to know you, Malcolm. I want to know what makes your face light up in a giant smile. And what makes you laugh so hard that your ribs ache. I care about you more than I should. And I had to ask because I'm the one that came here. It can't work like that. There are regulations against it. I have to know where you stand. I dream about you. I dream about you wanting me. I don't want to pressure you and I'm not. Please…" My throat's dry. I don't know what else to say. I've placed my heart in the guillotine. I can't look at him any more. The whispered words escape my lips before I can stop them. "Please, Malcolm…I need to know…"
Out of nowhere, there is a hand gently stroking my cheek. It's featherlight and tentative and uncertain and the most beautiful sensation in the universe. I raise my eyes once more and find Malcolm crouched in front of me. The tenderness in his gaze stuns me. If this was the Malcolm Reed I first met on board the Enterprise, I would have had serious doubts about his ability to kill a spider let alone another person.
"I never imagined…I always thought…" The affection in his eyes becomes swirled with frustration and torment as he struggles to find the words. I want to pull him close and hold him like I do in my dreams. But I can't yet. I've gone too far as it is. I know he can do it. Don't give up, Malcolm.
I watch as he closes his eyes and I can see the pain on the rest of his face. It's as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders. Damn it. I've pushed him too far, too fast. It's like walking a mine field. I feel the corner of my mouth turn up in a little smile. Mine fields make me think of weapons which lead my thoughts to the agonizing armory officer before me. And I can't stop the smile. It kills me to know that I've caused all this pain for him. Just because I selfishly wanted to see him. Just because I had to ask him that stupid question. It's time for me to go. It will be awkward and uncomfortable but I can't bear to hurt him anymore. My weight shifts slightly as I start to get up but Malcolm stops me.
The hand that only moments before was cautiously caressing my cheek is now completely lying against it. The world seems to stop as he leans forward and brushes his lips against mine. It didn't even last a millisecond but my whole body feels like its on fire and I desperately want to grab him and assault that teasing mouth with kisses of my own. I focus my attention on the amazing sensation of Malcolm's thumb gently stroking my cheek. I meet Malcolm's gaze and the passion in his eyes bowls me over. The tenderness is still there but I think I like the look of desire in those dark eyes much better.
"I didn't know what to say."
"I think you said it just fine, Malcolm. I pretty sure I know where you stand." And I am. I know he wants me. The evidence is right in front of me. But I don't know why. I really don't want to question lady luck but I have to. There is so much I don't know. The question slips out of my mouth before I realize what I've said. "Why?"
A questioning look passes across his face and I watch as it leaves quickly and a knowing smile takes up residence on Malcolm's face. "You have an uncanny ability to destroy pieces of the façade."
He laughs at his own cryptic answer and I know someday he'll explain it. But that's obviously not tonight. And for once tonight, I don't really feel like asking any more questions.
-----
Feedback appreciated!
ahooper@gladstone.uoregon.edu