Title: End of a détente
Author: Caroiunia
Pairings: R/S, T/S
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek, unfortunately.
Summary: Life onboard the Enterprise becomes more complicated as tensions collide.
Authour's Note: This is my first Enterprise fic, do please read and review!
Trip ran. His heart was pounding, its noise deafening in his ears. His legs, moving to the rhythm of his heart, moved swiftly back and forth. His lungs were burning, desperately taking in the all-clean, Starfleet-approved air. The treadmill automatically adjusted to his slowing pace. He breathed deeper. He felt his whole body sigh a relief that it was done.
He grabbed his cotton towel and wiped the beads of sweat off his face. As his got of the treadmill, he momentarily looked around the empty exercise room. He closed his eyes and poured cold, refreshing water over his head. He felt the heat from his face evaporate the water.
He was happy that no one else was there; this was his chance to burn his frustration, and he was extremely frustrated with engineering today. He walked out of the sliding doors back to his cabin.
Hoshi Sato sat in bed, reading the latest novel she had received from Earth. She had her blanket wrapped around her like a fortress against the cold. She always thought that the temperature on the ship became colder during the "night". When the lights in the halls were dimmed, and only a skeleton crew remained awake to stand guard against whatever the ship may encounter, the ship itself seemed to fall asleep.
Her clock glared 22:00, and she felt her stomach twinge with hunger. Just this chapter she thought, unwilling to leave her bastion of warmth. Eventually she put the story down, and leaned back onto her headboard.
She looked at the door and knew that she had to go and eat. Her bare feet touched the ground sending shivers down her spine. She smiled to herself as she saw the comm. panel by the door. Surely she could call someone to bring her some food? But she looked back at the clock: 23:00. That last chapter had meant that everyone was gone from the mess. She chuckled at her idea. At least she could go in her pyjamas she thought as she went out her door.
The corridors twisted to the door of the mess. She entered the empty diffuse lighted room. No one seemed to be there. She began to search for something to eat. A piece of chocolate cake, some fruit, some water, a perfectly balanced meal. Mother would have lectured me if she saw me now. Hoshi smiled at herself.
She sat down in one of the padded seats facing the passing stars. The stars had always fascinated her, like a child looking in awe at magic. She had loved to look at the stars when she was little, picking out constellations among the chaotic arrangements in the sky. Although she couldn't pick out any constellations aboard the Enterprise, she felt safe seeing them. She always assumed that she would see the stars, not travel among them. She paused to think about that. No, she not only felt safe seeing the stars, she felt safe with everyone aboard. A flood of nostalgia swept over her as she smiled and continued eating.
Trip entered into the mess. His stomach growled loudly as the doors swept loudly, causing him to see the surprised and bemused face of Hoshi turn around.
"Hungry?" Hoshi asked, smiling at the commander and his tinged cheeks. Charles Tucker smiled back and relaxed.
"Well a man's gotta eat," he replied. "And shouldn't you actually eat something, not just skip to dessert?" They often meet like this, late at night. Trip's hair always wet and dishevelled as if his grandmother had met him and ruffled his blond-brownish hair. And they always had the same opening lines.
"So, Trip… Why are you up so late?" Hoshi tried to offer.
"You know, got side tracked, had to work off this," he slapped his stomach as Hoshi laughed, "You know, that kind of stuff." He didn't want to explain to her why had been running, it just wasn't a good time. Hoshi has her own problems, she doesn't need to hear me whining. I'll just not worry about it now.
Hoshi saw the pause in his expression, but decided not to pursue it. Trip was a man who was the happy one, the optimistic one. He didn't like the burdens of life and didn't want to be reminded of them. But Hoshi wanted to help him. While he was everyone's friend, he had seemed very alone these past few weeks.
Trip looked at Hoshi as she played with the ruffles of chocolate of the icing of her cake. How did she do it? She is managing better than I am being out here. He looked back his food, the chicken seeming as unappetising as it was cold.
"Trip, why don't we steal some of Chef's stuff and make something that is not stale or old?"
"The cake is that bad, huh?" Hoshi nodded her face in a very grave yes. They both laughed and got rid of their food.
Chef found his kitchen under a layer of flour early the next morning.
…
2 months later
Damn it! "Captain, we have lost contact with the away teams." Hoshi turned to meet Jonathan Archer's concerned face. He paused for a second, and looked at the ground. He had come to expect this. Meet a friendly species and something was guaranteed to go wrong. He looked back to Hoshi Sato, his communications officer, this time more resolute.
"Hoshi, keep on trying to raise them. And try to contact our hosts…" He paused, as if to consider his options, "… try to get as much information out of them as possible." He knew they wouldn't be cooperative. But why would they want Trip, Simmons, Janera and Manzzero? Three engineers and an armoury officer on tour in some power plant. And then Cutler, Hanzera and Phlox. Just being shown a new hospital. "T'Pol?" He asked, wanting the Vulcan to fill his incomplete thoughts.
"Captain, I am unable to detect the away team. Their shuttles appear to be unaffected," she replied matter-a-factly, turning to face the captain with her arm in a cast. She had been injured on an away mission two weeks ago, along with the captain'sfoot, and both of them exchange glances acknowledging their invalidity.
"Hoshi, any signs at all?" Archer asked.
"Captain, it looks like some sort of storm area is moving in," she double checked her monitor, "They won't be able to contact us until this has cleared up." Archer searched his mind for alternatives. They might have stumbled onto something they weren't supposed to see. There might have been some linguistic misinterpretation. There might have been an accident…
As if she had been reading his mind, T'Pol leaned over her monitor and raised an eyebrow. "It appears as if their major communications array is damaged."
"T'Pol, why didn't you tell me this earlier?"
"I was unaware of this earlier. It appears that it has been damaged for some time, sir. However, during our last scan it was intact."
"Hoshi, is there any way to get a message through to the government?"
"No, Captain. And still no response from the away teams." Archer realised what he needed to do.
"Lieutenant," he turned to Malcolm Reed, "assemble an away team. And bring Hoshi." Hoshi sighed. She felt her nerves begin to fray. But her friends were down there, and she might be able to help them. She walked into the turbo life with a waiting Malcolm Reed.
…
Her hands were all clammy, and she felt unusually small among the armoury officers in the small shuttlepod. This wasn't what she had set out to do in life, but this is what she was doing. She tried to sit a bit straighter, to seem a bit taller among the imposing armoury officers. Malcolm Reed turned around and looked at her and the armoury officer across from her.
"This may get a bit rough. We will be encountering some turbulence. But once we get on the ground we won't have much time. Sato, you go with me when we split up. We will go looking for Commander Tucker's team first. We must assume the worst." Hoshi felt her body tense up more. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. A rush was coming, an uncertainty whether she would be safe, she would get hurt, whether she would live or not. Just like Trip and she had talked about all those late nights. It was becoming an addiction, a cycle she had to follow through. Trip and she had joked about this addiction. Joked about how they would cope once the Enterprise had finished her mission. She opened her eyes slowly again, and felt the shuttle start to shake. It was starting.
Now it all rested it on him. He was expected to bring everyone back safe and sound. He was expected to save the day, and then step gratuitously back and let those saved take the limelight. The turbulence set in. He looked back again towards Hoshi. She seemed so determined, so ready for anything. She had gone through a metamorphosis. She was like a butterfly… No, not now Malcolm. You have a duty. He faced forward again. It was starting.
…
On the surface, the team mobilised. They scurried to the power plant through the sand storm which was slowly engulfing the planet. The air was thick from dust swept from the ground. They ran, one by one, to the next point, slowly advancing to the power plant. Sometimes the sand shaped itself into shadowy figures that would become visible in the storm, causing the party to stop, but never did they see the face of anyone.
"Sato, can you read this inscription?" Hoshi approached the plaque next to the door.
"West… reactor… Something about authorization. This is the last known location of Trip's… Commander Tucker's team however."
"Alright. This is a basic hit and run. We just want to get our people back. Also, if we can, we need to find out more about what cause this," Malcolm Reed instructed as he looked around. Everyone nodded and the door was forced open. A distinct curiosity had crept over him about how quickly the situation changed on the planet. And no-one undermined the safety of his fellow crew.
Inside, the place seemed eerily quiet compared to the wind outside. The big space stood quiet, no sound coming from its pipes or tanks. The small troop moved cautiously forward.
"Sir, I'm not reading any life signs."
"Sir…" one of the ensigns pointed towards the grey flooring. A small drip of red, liquid blood was visible. Malcolm bent down, and touched it with his hand. He cautiously smelt it.
"It appears to be human, but we cannot afford to jump to conclusions. We will go this way," he said, motioning them down a hall. They continued to move down cautiously. Hoshi felt her breathing get heavy again. Her heart beat heavily in her chest. She swore that Malcolm noticed, and felt her face redden. She would not allow him to treat her like she was some corpse.
They continued down the corridor. "In here," Malcolm signalled. They walked into a small room filled with boxes and canisters. The room appeared to be a storage room, its walls grey and cracked. They stood still for a moment, breathing heavily from the tension.
"Did you hear that?"
They all stopped breathing for a moment and listened. Then they heard what Hoshi had heard before, a small cough. Everyone raised their weapons and moved into a small cluster formation facing outwards.
"Over here," one of the ensigns whispered. Behind the boxes, in a small drab corner, sat the two away teams and several the aliens, asleep. Hoshi rushed forward to Trip. She looked over him, searching for any injuries. Oh Trip, what happened? Starfleet officers don't fall asleep on duty. And Trip was the model Starfleet officer.
Malcolm Reed looked over at Ensign Sato. She sat, bent over, next to Trip, trying to make him wake up. She was beautiful, even though she was sand encrusted and tense. He could just sit next to one of the boxes and watch her. Her uniform sat tight over her bum… Damn it Reed. Not now. He turned around and continued to wake the officers around him. He glanced back towards Hoshi. She seemed to notice Trip's arm around the female alien. Never one to miss an opportunity, eh Trip? Hoshi's eyes seemed to blink and open in a new, more formal manner. He felt a pit in his stomach form. He wanted to make it go way. For a moment, he wanted to hit Trip, before he caught himself drifting again and focused on his work.
They quickly woke the groggy crew and the aliens. No one knew what had happened to them. They were sent back to their shuttles through the storm. The aliens seemed unwilling to stay and asked to come along. It wasn't an option to leave them, not until they knew what had happened. They were sent in small groups back to the shuttles. The wind was heavier this time, and the crew quickly disappeared into the haze.
Malcolm and Hoshi stood with the last of the crew venturing out and back to the ship.
"Ensign, I think we need to find out what has happened. Ensign Sato and I will stay a bit long and observe more which could perhaps explain this situation. Leave a shuttle for us." His eyes meet the ensign across from him. Hoshi stood next to him, looking out through the door at the blizzard outside. The last group ran into the blizzard cautiously looking back at the ensign and the lieutenant.
"Where are we going?" Hoshi asked. She felt her heart begin to race again, but tried not to betray herself.
"I was rather hoping that you could tell me that," Malcolm replied. He looked around the big room before moving towards a pale green door in one of the corners.
"What does this door say? Does it lead to any central control room?"
"I'm not sure."
"Ensign, this is not a time for indecision. Tell me, should we open this door or not?" He looked at her, seeing the panic in her eyes. "Ensign, don't worry. Hoshi," she turned around, surprised that he would use her first name, "I trust you." The words gave her the courage to nod slightly and turn back to the label on the door.
"Down here," she said, opening the door with a squeak and started walking down a long narrow corridor without hesitation.
"Ladies first," he muttered and followed her down with a small smile on his face. He was happy that he had given her some courage. Maybe…
Several corridors later, they found themselves in a small room filled with panels and equipments. The pale lighting did little to illuminate the dark room. Hoshi moved from panel to panel, muttering "temperature, lights, status… Status! Over here, this is the status panel."
"Can you see what is happening here?" Malcolm asked as he peered over he shoulder.
Hoshi looked at the various lights and displays. "It looks like… there was some power surge before we lost contact… I can't be more specific… wait," her face drew together in an extremely worried expression, "I think… I think… the power core is becoming unstable. I think its going explode."
"You think. Can you be more specific?" Malcolm's previous benevolence was gone and his face grew sombre.
"Look here," she pointed to one of the monitors, "this shows the temperature. This is what it has been like the past week. But this," she called up another image, "Is the past day. See, the temperature is increasing."
Malcolm moved closer to the picture. "It's increasing exponentially! Bloody hell, we have hardly got 15 minutes. We can't make it back…" He looked at Hoshi. "Can you try and raise the ship?" Hoshi picked up her communicator and tried. Blurbs of static came through.
"They're trying to understand us. Sir, I can hear them, but I don't think that they can hear us," Malcolm recalled last time when Hoshi could make sense of the static, "Wait," she started to press one of the many buttons on the communicator, issuing a series of beeps.
"Morse code...." Malcolm said to himself.
"Even if they can't hear us, they can pick up on the patterns." A quick reply came back. "They are telling us to get out now. They are trying to transport us, but…" She looked up at him. He avoided her deep eyes and looked around the room. He couldn't bear to face her. If this really was their last moments, he didn't want his feelings betraying her. He couldn't confess that he; no, no, he couldn't face it now. He had to find a way out. He looked around at the small room. Something isn't right about this room. Why would a control room be filled with all of this junk? He saw something covered in the corner. He resolutely walked over to it, and unveiled the object. Bloody hell. It looked like the handles of a motorcycle attached to a large grey box.
"What's that?" Hoshi asked, still looking at her displays. She felt confused. Her stomach was doing flips. She was regretting ever enjoying that rush she got before an away mission. And now Malcolm was concerning himself with some thing in this godforsaken power plant. That man really is a robot. A small well of anger began to form. God, I've seen coffins with people more alive in them. And I even thought that he had a heart back there. She turned around and looked at him, trying to pierce his armour.
Malcolm turned around. Why is she looking at me like that? Hoshi's arms were crossed and she stood off balance with one foot forward. "Can you read this?" he asked her.
She walked forward and looked at him incuriously.
"It seems like it is some sort of 'shift' device. It can be adjusted by this control, and this thing." She stepped back to give Malcolm room. He grabbed both of the handles and waited for something to happen.
What the… Hoshi saw Malcolm, and him again, and again. It seemed like shadowy versions of his started filling the room, each one of them different. In one, he was dressed in simple civilian clothes, and holding something which seemed to have the shape of a baby. Another one of him was lying down asleep. Another was talking passionately about something to an invisible crowd. Another was dancing and laughing with someone. It was him, never his partner. Another was one kissing the air. It was like she could see every possibility every facet of Malcolm. Wait. She walked though the thickening cloud of Malcolms towards the box with handles. A small round accentuation on the surface of the box was nest to the word "shift". She instinctively pressed down on it. A shocked Malcolm let go. It felt like he had been ubiquitously present.
"What was that?" a startled Malcolm asked Hoshi.
"You were everywhere," her eyes gleamed with amazement. "I think that 'shift' means more than just moving through space. It was like you moved through alternative universes." She paused for a second, looked into his unbelieving eyes before looking back at the strange machine. "OK, I know I'm not some quantum physicist or anything, but hear me out. Is there anything else that can explain it?"
"Well I quite doubt that anything can explain that," he looked at the handles, "I have an idea. Could this thing actually take us to one of these alternatives?"
"Maybe if I…" she pressed several buttons in combination, "ok, I thank if you turn the handles like this," she twisted the handles you back slowly, "you flip through the things. Malcolm, I don't have a clue what I'm doing!"
"Its all right, Miss Quantum physicist," he gave her a cheeky grin, "it can't get any worse." The mood seemed to get a bit darker at his comment. Smooth Reed, real smooth. He kicked himself mentally. But duty called. "Hold on Hoshi, we might just be getting out of here." She grabbed on to him, tightly hugging his abdomen.
"Go"
"Captain, I'm reading a massive energy surge on the surface. I believe the power plant has just exploded," T'Pol's face was irritably passive.
"Any word from Reed and Sato?"
"None."
The captain sighed heavily. "Call Trip to my ready room as soon as he gets back," he said, storming into his ready room.
…
She woke up on her stomach with her cheek pressed on cool, stone floor. She felt washed out, as if she was mentally awake but not physically. She opened her eyes to a shadowed blue light. She pressed her hands down on the floor, and pushed her self up, flipping her self around and, still using her hands to support her, leaned back. Her head started to throb. The sea, the wind… Com'on Hoshi, get yourself together. She momentarily leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She felt strong, comforting arms pick her up and carry her next to its chest. They dropped her in a soft bed, far softer than her bed on the Enterprise. Sleep crept back into her aching body and she drifted away from reality.
2 hours later
She woke up abruptly. Where was she? A moment of sheer panic swept over her, before her memory tried to calm her down. She got out of the wide bed. Bed? She looked around. She was in a very spacious room somewhere overlooking the sea. It seemed like a cool minimalist room. The marble flooring contrasted beautifully with the white walls and the cubist furniture. The only colour was the deep crimson blanket on the bed and the hypnotic blue of the sea outside.
Hoshi walked into the next room, still slightly bedazzled. The next room continued in the minimalist tradition, but was filled with a large sofa to encircled a black coffee table, a long dining table with four tall and narrow chairs seating it, a kitchen with all amenities, a fire place, the strange machine and Malcolm Reed. She looked at him from the doorway. He stood in the kitchen, preparing some sort of meal. She could smell the sweet and spicy scent of whatever was on the stove. He looked surprisingly at ease in the kitchen. She would never have imagined that this tight man, who enjoyed explosions, would have any culinary talent. Suddenly she felt stupid for offering to cook for him when trying to find out his favourite food. A small smile crept across her face.
"Not bad, but I wanted something a bit…" she waved her hand in the air, "bigger." She smiled broadly and winked at him. He looked up calmly, as if he had expected her just that second.
"Well, I tried for an English cottage, but…" he smiled back. It hit Hoshi how rarely he smiled. It made him seem much more real. Then she realised that he wasn't wearing his uniform anymore. Instead, he was wearing a tight, black, long sleeved shirt and khaki trousers. He looks really good she found herself surprised saying. Apparently Malcolm noticed her looking at him.
"They were in the bedroom," he nodded to the door way behind her, "There are some for you too." She looked at him, then behind, into the room, and then back.
"Malcolm, where are we?" her hand moved to her hips. This was all a bit to perfect. Food, clothes, beautiful view. This didn't happen to the crew of the Enterprise. She looked at the machine.
"I don't know how to explain this," he stopped chopping vegetables and leaned forward, "but I wished for this."
"What?"
"When I was holding onto that thing, I wished to get away from where we were, to somewhere like this," his eyes wandered the walls of the room before returning to her, "I don't know how to explain it, but I think I know how that thing works to. It just came to me when I woke up." Hoshi closed her eyes in exasperation. She sighed.
"So can you get us back?"
Her words struck him deeper than he had expected. It was as if she had said "I hate it here and I would rather be anywhere than here with you. So his retort felt like a small revenge. "No," he said bluntly, and resumed chopping, "It needs a power source to get us both back. And at the moment, it can barely get one of back." He gathered the chopped vegetables together and swept them off the chopping board into a bowl. He placed the bowl, along with a large wooden fork and spoon, on the marble counter. He turned around and flipped something onto a plate. He carried the plate to the dining table, not looking at Hoshi. He carried two plates, forks and knives, and glasses over to the dining table and set them out in an orderly fashion. He carried the rest of things over to the table and sat down, spreading the napkin over his legs. He looked up at her.
"There is enough for you too." But he decided that this was not the time to get mad at her, and smiled.
She had been angry for a moment, but at his smile, she couldn't help smile back. She walked over and sat down across from him.
"Let's see if you can cook," she said with a mischievous grin.
They ate in almost complete silence, broken only by requests for whatever happened to be across the table. There was a nervous tension in the air, solidify with each morsel chewed. Finally, it stirred.
"Thank you Malcolm, this was really good." Hoshi let break a small smile.
"No problem at all, ensign."
"Drop the formality, just call me Hoshi." She was stuck with this man for however long and she didn't want it to feel any longer.
Malcolm smiled, as if he had read her thoughts, "Hoshi, why don't get this and you can take a shower and get tidied up." Hoshi had hardly realised what a state she was in. Dust from the sand storm caked her uniform and hair. She looked down at herself and chuckled. You're a sight for sore eyes. She rose and took her plate and glass over to the sink.
"Malcolm, you get a stunning view but no dishwasher?" she joked with him.
"Don't worry I'll get it," he said gesturing her off to the bedroom. She walked off and closed the door.
She closed the door softly behind her, and then sat down on the bed. She felt a pit build in her stomach. Why me? Why do I have o get stuck here with him? Stuck here, with little chance of getting back. The room was quiet and gave no reply. Hoshi, get a grip. Then something hit her. How did Malcolm know that the food was safe to eat? Why is this place abandoned? And where is the door to get out of here? She looked at the bedroom door, half expecting it to open now. But it remained stagnant. She got up and looked in the closets that were embedded into the walls. Inside, she found it filled with clothes. On the shelves lay sweaters and shirts of different colours and shapes. Trousers hung neatly on hangers, more were simply baggy combat khakis, similar to the ones that Malcolm had been wearing. Next to those were beautiful dresses of all types of style. It didn't make sense. There was even underwear in one of the drawers. She picked a simple composition, some drawstring linen trousers matched with v-necked long sleeve blue shirt and simple black underwear. She put them on the bed and got into the beckoning shower.
She came out with one of the large towels twisted tightly around her, her hair encapsulated in another towel. She quickly changed, and looked herself in the bathroom mirror when she was finished. Not bad. She traced her face with her hand, feeling the smoothness of cleanliness. Now for some answers. She was determined to make Malcolm answer her questions.
She walked into the large living room, and saw Malcolm bent over the machine, tracing its inscriptions with his fingers.
"What are you doing?" she asked as he turned around to see her.
"I was looking for some sort of clue of how much power it would take to get us back," he answered, slightly taken aback by the edge in her voice. Hoshi was always the calm and sensible one with her voice staying even.
"How did you know that the food was not poisonous?" she blurted, with more questions following, "how do you this place's owners won't come back and kill us? How do you get out of this place? How…"
He quickly interjected, "I didn't, I don't know where the people who used to live here are. And there is no door, but I think we can get out anyway. It's all this blooming machine's fault." His tone was exasperated. They both paused, looking each other in the eyes. Finally, Hoshi turned away.
"Any luck?" she ventured as reconciliation. Malcolm shook his head. "I'm sorry; I'm just not good at dealing with all of this."
"You are doing fine," he said.
"Explain to me how you know so much about what that thing does," she said, sitting down of the large, soft sofa.
"I'm not sure how to explain it. It's as if the machine told me," he sat down across from her. "You were right about alternative universes back there. Have you heard about Schrödinger?" Hoshi replied with a small nod. "He had this theory about quantum duality. Say you have a cat in a box. And for some reason, there is an equal chance that this cat will be alive or dead. But until you open the box, you don't know," he stopped and waited for Hoshi to start nodding her head again, "What if, instead or being alive or dead, the cat was alive and dead?"
"But it can't be both!"
"This isn't a real cat though, this is Schrödinger's cat. Many theories stemmed from this. Including the idea that at each moment the universe divides itself. It has to possibilities, like the cat. Since it cannot be both at once, it divides into two universes, one where the cat is alive, one where it isn't." She looked wide eyed.
"You mean alternative universe. So this machine in lets you move in-between the different universe."
"Not only that, but you can move backwards and forwards in time." They were both silent, looking intently at the coffee table.
"Malcolm, when we used the machine, everything that was touching you came along, including me. By why didn't the floor come?"
"My guess is that there are sensors on the bottom of this thing to make sure that it doesn't bring whole buildings along."
"How do you know this?"
"I'm not sure."
They both rose and started working on a way to get back.
The sun soon began to set and the room became darker and darker. There was no electric lighting in the ceiling, but Hoshi managed to find candles and placed them around the two rooms. They had been working the entire day, while mumbling perhaps and maybes at regular intervals.
Hoshi had felt reluctant the whole day. There was just something that was bothering her this entire time. She knew that it was stupid, and very childish of her, but she couldn't help it. Space had hardened her crust, but she was still soft inside. It was Trip. She wished he was there instead of Malcolm. She wished he would talk to her, make her laugh, just make her feel safe. With Malcolm, and T'Pol, she felt as if she needed to constantly prove herself. She couldn't fail in front of them. And now she had. Back in the power plant, she almost broke down. And now here… She hated being alone like this.
Malcolm was just too regimented. He was a military man; he couldn't survive without his rules and etiquette. He was too quiet, too distrustful, too violent, too proper, too British. She sighed deeply. He looked up at her from the other side of the machine.
"Are you alright? Maybe we should take a break?" His eyes have real concern in them she though. How could you have judged him like that? A pang of guilt shot through her, making her feel ashamed.
"Sure." She got up from the table where she had been writing down thoughts. She had found paper in one of the drawers. It seemed as if their cage, as she now referred to it as, had provided for almost everything. "How about I make dinner?"
"Your infamous enchiladas?" he said to her, smiling. She blushed.
"Alright, if there is what I need here." She smiled to herself, thinking about Trip and her little adventures in the kitchen. Chef was always complaining about "those rats". Secretly, she thought that he knew.
"If its all right, I think I will shower," Malcolm said, breaking her small day dream.
"Take your time," she said, before turning to the kitchen.
He walked into the bed room and closed the door and his eyes. The entire day, Hoshi had made him feel like he was an inconvenience. He undressed quickly and got into the shower. The warm water felt soothing as it ran over his body. He may have been afraid of water at times, but right now, he loved it. It was like it was washing all of his sins away. The water was too comfortable though, so he turned the handle to cold. Soon the water began to numb his skin, and he felt shivers run up his spine. Why is she so cold to me now? He asked himself. Trip his mind echoed back. He had seen them in the mess late at night. Or heard them. Her sweet laughter at his drawling accent. His wild suggestions which would end in a mess. Sometimes he would see him escorting Hoshi back to her quarters.
Often he had wondered if he had spent the night. But then another voice came into his head, he would never commit himself like that. Trip was a man who enjoyed the sport of chasing women. Malcolm knew Trip loved the attention that a serenaded woman paid to him. He loved feeling as if was special. Who doesn't?
And Trip was a Starfleet officer. He would bend many rules, break many more, but when it came to a woman's feelings he treaded carefully. This was a satisfying thought as Malcolm stepped out of the shower. That, and a mental image of T'Pol's bum always made him feel better.
Hoshi prepared the dinner with incredible speed. She wanted time to have a few moments to tidy herself up before Malcolm came back out. She glanced at herself in the reflection from the oven door. Maybe I should change she thought as she inserted a small apple pie. Her linen trousers were wrinkled and her top was dusted with flour. Or else I'm going for the slave in kitchen look. She grabbed a label less bottle of wine and placed it on the table.
"Fit for a king," she heard Malcolm say as he came back in. He had changed clothes, wearing a grey long sleeved shit and black combats. His brown hair glistened from the shower, turning gold as crests were caught by candle light. Hoshi smiled a smile at him, and he smiled back. Their glances meet for a second, before turning away.
"I guess I better go change then," said Hoshi, as she walked around him, closing the door.
Thank god you didn't make any of your infamous kitchen wench jokes, he thought. They had managed to destroy many fine dates.
He walked over to the table. The candle lit room made everything look so bloody romantic. This was not what he needed. Trapped in this beautiful place with a beautiful woman who loves someone else. He opened the bottle and poured himself a hefty glass. Here's to… here's too… the Enterprise. He chugged the glass before filling up another.
How dressed up should I be? I don't even need to be dressed up! Its just dinner. But she felt she owed it to Malcolm, to make up for being cold to him recently. It had come as a revelation, but she felt now that she had become distinctly colder to him since her late night meetings with Trip. She respected him, she had nothing but respect for him, and she valued his companionship. But recently she didn't have to patience to be with him. He was a burden.
So she decided to make an effort. She looked at the dresses. Ten of then hung neatly, she laid them out over the bed. Still couldn't decide. So she closed her eyes and pointed into the air, determined to pick one. She opened eyes to find her finger in the direction of a red dress. It was slightly translucent, with thicker fabric covering more sensitive areas. Its back was low, crisscrossed with strands of the delicate fabric which formed a web. It was strapless, but simple. And there was a touch of sparkle over it. She sighed a large sigh. She was going to need a lot of wine this evening.
She entered the room with her hair done up in a simple twist, with her hair-tie skillfully holding her thick black hair up. Good god. Malcolm gulped, and took another sip of wine. He told himself not to stare, but couldn't help let his eyes rest on her many curves. The gentleman inside of him came to his rescue.
"Would you like a seat, ma'am," he said, pulling out a chair. She sat down with a little smile. He slowly poured her a glass of the red wine. He had brought all of her cooking to the table. He had even brought several of the candles over now that it was almost black outside.
"You look… beautiful," he stumbled, with the wine starting to effect him. She sipped the whole glass of wine quickly before pouring herself another. They started eating silently. Soon, the entire bottle of wine was gone.
"Allow me," Malcolm volunteered, and another bottle appeared at his hand. Both of them drank to dispel the tension that was returning.
They finished, and moved over to the now lighted fire, sitting on the thick rug before it. The wine cause them to smile at each other more frequently before returning their glazes back to the entrancing flames. Before long, both of their gazes meet and locked.
"You really have nice eyes," Hoshi said, this time not averting her gaze.
"Yours aren't that bad either," he threw back. All of a sudden, they started laughing hysterically at nothing. They both lay down on the rug on their sides. Their eyes meet again. Their breathing became deeper. Hoshi didn't know what came over her, but she moved forward and kissed Malcolm's slightly parted lips. He looked deep into her eyes before returning the kiss. Their kiss became deeper and more intense
"Trip..." He stopped abruptly and looked at her. His mind and body shattered. He blinked, shocked. He got up and just looked at her. What have I done? Not even the intoxication from the wine left his mind respite.
Hoshi opened her eyes. She looked at him strangely, tilting her head to one side. Then she opened her eyes a bit wider as she realized what had happened. Sh scurried to the bedroom. She closed the door quickly and the whole room was abruptly silent.
Bloody hell.
Malcolm turned around and looked around the room. He cleaned up the room before resuming work on getting back to the Enterprise.
…
The next morning
Hoshi knew she couldn't stay in the bedroom forever. She had to go out. Besides, it wasn't fair to keep the bathroom to herself. She looked out the window at the sea. It was calm, unlike her personal sea. Just think about what T'Pol told you. With that thought in mind, she opened the door and walked out into the livingroom.
Malcolm looked up momentarily, before returning his eyes to his new contraption.
"Ahh, ensign. I have jerry-rigged a power source. We can now return to the Enterprise." His tone was matter-of-factly, and he never looked her in the eyes.
"Good," was her simple rely. She told the truth, but she wanted to talk too.
"Now, if you will excuse me, I think I'll just get tidied up before we leave."
She nodded. He walked past her and closed the door.
She looked around the room for a trace of evidence of what had happened, to prove to herself that it hadn't been a dream. But the room was clean. The dishes had been done. The empty wine bottles put in a small box. It could have been a dream.
But it wasn't. It was an uncomfortable reality. She had said Trip's name while… she shuttered to think bout it. She went to sit down on the sofa.
She knew when she started that she was kissing Malcolm Reed. Part of her leapt with joy as she kissed him. But another part called out betrayals. She thought of Trip momentarily. Of how much she adored him. Thought of him. Cared for him deeply him. And suddenly she wasn't kissing Malcolm Reed, but Charles Tucker. She now knew the truth. She loved Trip. But she had shattered Malcolm finding out.
"This is how this works. We will return in a reality where we are in a shuttle pod returning to the Enterprise as the power plant explodes. This," he pointed to the box," will not be coming with us. There just isn't enough power," he looked at her sternly, "This is our only chance." His last words were left to instill an importance of his success to come, and to surface guilt in Hoshi. Hoshi merely nodded. Her impassive face remained unchanged. She held onto him, not too tightly, and closed her eyes.
…
"Lieutenant? Can you here me? This is Enterprise. Come in. Over."
"Enterprise, this is Lieutenant Reed."
"Are you guys alright? One second you guys are on the surface, the next in space."
"Sir, Ensign Sato and I shall explain as much as we can when we return."
"Opening shuttle bay doors."
Malcolm sighed as he manipulated the controls. At least he could quash any dreams about Hoshi and him. His silent détente with her was over. But not for the better.
…
