*****
Part XX: Malcolm
Must ignore the "Kill! Kill! Kill!" voice in head. Besides, how logical was that voice if it told me I needed to kill everyone. Maybe if it said something like "Kill! Kill! Everyone except Hoshi" I would be more inclined to agree. But the thing is, homicidal rages are pretty non discriminatory. Oh well, so much for following instincts and whatnot. I was going to have to settle for constructing Rube Goldberg-like schemes of revenge in my head. There must be a way I could just push a button and have anvils dropped on Trip or Captain Archer's head.
You know when Enterprise left space dock I had this odd 'butterflies in my stomach' feeling. At the time I attributed it to the excitement of a new adventure and nervousness about serving under Archer.
There I was in my nice clean uniform, desperately trying to close the lift doors as Trip sprinted down the corridor toward me. In that moment, I identified what that feeling had actually been: certain doom.
It was something like what I suspect a deer feels when it's caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck.
Why the fuck wouldn't the door close?!
"Thanks for holdin' the lift, buddy," Trip panted as he skidded to a stop.
I looked down and saw that my finger was holding the 'Door Open' button.
Well fuck me.
I wondered if banging my head against the wall would feel as good as it did the last time. I contemplated the wall nearest me with longing.
"You know, Malcolm..."
Are you there, God?
"I was thinking of asking Em out to dinner."
It's me, Malcolm.
"And I was wondering..."
Since I can't get any help on the apparent Hoshi and Malcolm make-out fest down here...
"Do you and Hoshi know any out-of-the-way spots?"
Could you see fit to smite Trip and turn him into a pile of smoking ash?
"I figure by now you two have found all the nooks and crannies where two people can be alone..." Trip trailed off with a sly smile as I looked at him in disbelief.
You know, the wall was looking pretty damn good, especially if I could use his head as a battering ram.
Before I could grab him, the lift doors parted, freeing me from this small circle of hell and letting me escape.
"Oh come on, Malcolm. Give a friend a little help here," Trip begged as we walked to my station.
"You're right," I said as Porthos bounded out from under my console. "I'll call Em and warn her that you're coming."
Trip bent down to pick up the errant pup, shaking his head. "You're a cruel man, Malcolm Reed," he said, miming a shot to the heart. He staggered toward the captain's ready room, Porthos happily yipping and squirming after him, eager to find his master and a new stash of cheese.
The door shut on the two of them and I sagged in relief. "That man's a damn bloodhound," I muttered, turning to my station when I realized something wasn't quite right on the bridge.
I looked at my instrument panel, called down to the Armory to check in and warned Em about Trip, and then took a look around. Right away my eyes zeroed in on her station and the empty chair.
I was not tempting Fate. Honestly! I wasn't. It's just that every morning that Hoshi and I work together on the Bridge I look over at her and check that everything's all right. She looks back at me and says 'good morning.' It's part of a normal everyday routine that makes me feel as if everything is okay in my small part of the galaxy.
Who ever thought that a greeting meant that much?
Not that making out in a turbolift is a bad way to start a morning, I thought, remembering the other day. Getting splashed with hot coffee? Yes. Getting caught by Trip and an engineering team? Yes. Rubbing up against a beautiful woman and kissing each other stupid? Hell no! Wish I could do that more often.
I looked from her chair to the turbolift. I glanced at T'Pol, who was looking into one of her scanners then at Travis who was grinning at me like a loon.
"What?"
"Ask." The child knew me too well.
"No."
"Go on. Ask."
I took a deep breath and tried to glare him in to submission. "No."
"Sir, for you it's not morning until she says it is. So ask."
My fingers drummed against my thigh for a few moments more before I caved. "Where?"
"Ensign Sato was here for a few moments before you and Commander Tucker walked in," T'Pol said, looking over her shoulder. "But I don't know where she is now."
"Porthos was running around like a maniac and she was trying to catch him. I turned my back on them for a second and she just vanished," added Travis. He looked like a child who'd found his Christmas presents early and figured out what they were.
I leaned towards him. I didn't know why, it wasn't as if we'd be able to hold a whispered conversation with T'Pol and her Vulcan ears just a few feet away, but I lowered my voice nonetheless. "Then where is--" As if on cue, something lightly touched my knee. I paused in the middle of my question and looked down.
Nothing there.
I shook my leg just in case some odd form of space bug had decided to crawl up my pants and looked back at Travis, who was shaking with barely suppressed laughter. "Like I was saying, Ensign--" There it was again. I looked down and still saw nothing. Then I looked at Travis. "No."
"Yes."
"Oh, no." No, it couldn't be. Fate wouldn't screw with me that badly.
"Ooooh, yes."
Apparently Fate could, because when I looked back down I saw a slim feminine hand tapping its nails on the floor next to my shoe. She must have known I was looking because she suddenly made a rude gesture and pointed toward Travis' station. I looked back up at him with barely restrained glee. "She's going to kill you," I said, relishing the sight of Travis going pale under his dusky skin. "And I might just help her." I got a loving pat against my leg in response.
"There wasn't enough time to get to her before you two showed up on the Bridge," Travis hissed by way of explanation. "Or else I would have done something. I don't think you would've wanted Trip to know she was under
there."
He had a point. The Hoshi Hand seemed to agree because it showed thumbs up. "She says you have a point," I told him before crouching down. Hoshi and I looked at one another for a moment. I opened my mouth.
"I'm having a bad enough day. Shut up."
I bit my lip for a moment to keep from laughing at this insane situation. Any other time this would have been a fantasy of mine, a beautiful woman hiding under my desk and waiting for just the right moment to pounce on me. Oh, if only the Bridge were empty and I could lock Trip and the captain in his ready room. When I had myself under control, I said, "Are you just hiding or are you stuck?"
"I'm stuck," she growled.
I looked at her kneeling under my desk, trying to figure out where she could possibly be caught. "Where?" Granted it's not too dark under there but black hair and a dark blue uniform tend to blend in a bit with the shadows.
She growled again and reached forward, grabbing the front of my uniform and pulling me forward. Forced off balance, I fell forward onto my knees, my hands fumbling for purchase. My lips met hers in a kiss that deepened for a moment before I caught the edge of the desk and she squeaked in pain.
"I don't bite, you know," I said, softly pulling back. "Not unless you ask."
Damn the ship with all those dark hideaways, random closets, and now spaces under consoles that always seemed to have just enough room for two. Coincidence? I think not.
"Get. Me. Out. Of. Here." Her 'command' voice. I liked that voice. I really liked that voice. Especially when she added that sexy growl to it. What the hell was I supposed to be doing?
Oh, yeah, getting her out of there, preferably before the captain and Trip came out and started making pithy comments about the armory officer and communications officer making leaps and bounds in intra-ship communications. I got on my knees and leaned forward, finding the seam in my console where her
hair--what shampoo does she use?--was caught and gently pulled it out. Which meant Hoshi ended up leaning forward with her head on my shoulder. For a moment we just sat there, every nerve in my body going into overload, wanting to drag her off to my quarters for several hot, passionate, steamy—
"They're coming."
God, I wish I was…Oh shit, she meant THEM! I flung myself off her and slid up against the wall while she shot out from under my console and sprinted across the bridge. I wondered if she did track at the academy...she had nice legs…
"Malcolm? You all right?"
I looked up at the captain and Trip, registering their concerned faces and the fact that Hoshi looked prim and proper at her station. "Um…Yes, sir. Just a little shock." That immediately sent both men into 'mother hen' mode, clucking over my dangerous console and poor me. I protested an order to visit Sickbay. I had an ache but it was nothing the doctor could help me with. I glanced over at Hoshi's station to see her silently chuckling over the entire thing. At least we weren't caught under the console. Maybe my luck was changing.
***
Luck is a psychotic bitch and she hates me.
Crap, it was like every other first contact.
Rescue aliens on a derelict station, blah blah blah, Captain invites random aliens a tour of the ship despite my protests, yada yada yada...
DOES ANYBODY SEE A PATTERN?!
Yeah, let's invite them all to a party in the mess hall. These female aliens with their big--What was that burning sensation at the back of my head? Phlox told me he fixed that! Oh, it was Hoshi. Gulp. In case you're wondering,
yes, looks can kill, or at the very least, make an armory officer who has seen many terrible things, shake in his boots.
Alien women with big boobs were prancing all over my ship, playing havoc with male officers' heads--big and little ones--and pissing off all the women on board.
Want to know what was worse than that?
A majority of them seemed to want me.
Now, granted if this were any other time in my life, I would have been a slobbering, hormonal wreck over all the women throwing themselves at me. Dammit, a month ago I would have jumped over all of them.
Now?
Right now I had enough problems with one woman in my life. Hoshi stood near the punchbowl wearing a little red dress, completely pissed off at me, judging by the sweet, psychotic smiles she was giving me. The men, rejected by the alien women, seemed to be swarming around her and you know what? I'M GOING TO KILL THEM ALL IF THEY DON'T STOP LOOKING DOWN HER DRESS!!!
I mean I was in charge of security, right? I could kill a few people…or at least make their deaths look like believable accidents.
One of the alien women--what the hell was her name again? Bambi?--rubbed up against me and said something completely lost on me. Not that I was really paying attention anyway. Christ, why couldn't they all go after Trip? Damn woman magnet every other mission couldn't get one of them to look at him now? He usually has to beat them off with a stick! What the hell was wrong? Did he forget to bathe? Turn off his 'I'm a sexy engineering chief' beacon or something?! Bastard.
I looked over at Hoshi again and added more names to my list of people to crush with anvils. Men bad. Men suck.
*****
Part XX: Malcolm
Must ignore the "Kill! Kill! Kill!" voice in head. Besides, how logical was that voice if it told me I needed to kill everyone. Maybe if it said something like "Kill! Kill! Everyone except Hoshi" I would be more inclined to agree. But the thing is, homicidal rages are pretty non discriminatory. Oh well, so much for following instincts and whatnot. I was going to have to settle for constructing Rube Goldberg-like schemes of revenge in my head. There must be a way I could just push a button and have anvils dropped on Trip or Captain Archer's head.
You know when Enterprise left space dock I had this odd 'butterflies in my stomach' feeling. At the time I attributed it to the excitement of a new adventure and nervousness about serving under Archer.
There I was in my nice clean uniform, desperately trying to close the lift doors as Trip sprinted down the corridor toward me. In that moment, I identified what that feeling had actually been: certain doom.
It was something like what I suspect a deer feels when it's caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck.
Why the fuck wouldn't the door close?!
"Thanks for holdin' the lift, buddy," Trip panted as he skidded to a stop.
I looked down and saw that my finger was holding the 'Door Open' button.
Well fuck me.
I wondered if banging my head against the wall would feel as good as it did the last time. I contemplated the wall nearest me with longing.
"You know, Malcolm..."
Are you there, God?
"I was thinking of asking Em out to dinner."
It's me, Malcolm.
"And I was wondering..."
Since I can't get any help on the apparent Hoshi and Malcolm make-out fest down here...
"Do you and Hoshi know any out-of-the-way spots?"
Could you see fit to smite Trip and turn him into a pile of smoking ash?
"I figure by now you two have found all the nooks and crannies where two people can be alone..." Trip trailed off with a sly smile as I looked at him in disbelief.
You know, the wall was looking pretty damn good, especially if I could use his head as a battering ram.
Before I could grab him, the lift doors parted, freeing me from this small circle of hell and letting me escape.
"Oh come on, Malcolm. Give a friend a little help here," Trip begged as we walked to my station.
"You're right," I said as Porthos bounded out from under my console. "I'll call Em and warn her that you're coming."
Trip bent down to pick up the errant pup, shaking his head. "You're a cruel man, Malcolm Reed," he said, miming a shot to the heart. He staggered toward the captain's ready room, Porthos happily yipping and squirming after him, eager to find his master and a new stash of cheese.
The door shut on the two of them and I sagged in relief. "That man's a damn bloodhound," I muttered, turning to my station when I realized something wasn't quite right on the bridge.
I looked at my instrument panel, called down to the Armory to check in and warned Em about Trip, and then took a look around. Right away my eyes zeroed in on her station and the empty chair.
I was not tempting Fate. Honestly! I wasn't. It's just that every morning that Hoshi and I work together on the Bridge I look over at her and check that everything's all right. She looks back at me and says 'good morning.' It's part of a normal everyday routine that makes me feel as if everything is okay in my small part of the galaxy.
Who ever thought that a greeting meant that much?
Not that making out in a turbolift is a bad way to start a morning, I thought, remembering the other day. Getting splashed with hot coffee? Yes. Getting caught by Trip and an engineering team? Yes. Rubbing up against a beautiful woman and kissing each other stupid? Hell no! Wish I could do that more often.
I looked from her chair to the turbolift. I glanced at T'Pol, who was looking into one of her scanners then at Travis who was grinning at me like a loon.
"What?"
"Ask." The child knew me too well.
"No."
"Go on. Ask."
I took a deep breath and tried to glare him in to submission. "No."
"Sir, for you it's not morning until she says it is. So ask."
My fingers drummed against my thigh for a few moments more before I caved. "Where?"
"Ensign Sato was here for a few moments before you and Commander Tucker walked in," T'Pol said, looking over her shoulder. "But I don't know where she is now."
"Porthos was running around like a maniac and she was trying to catch him. I turned my back on them for a second and she just vanished," added Travis. He looked like a child who'd found his Christmas presents early and figured out what they were.
I leaned towards him. I didn't know why, it wasn't as if we'd be able to hold a whispered conversation with T'Pol and her Vulcan ears just a few feet away, but I lowered my voice nonetheless. "Then where is--" As if on cue, something lightly touched my knee. I paused in the middle of my question and looked down.
Nothing there.
I shook my leg just in case some odd form of space bug had decided to crawl up my pants and looked back at Travis, who was shaking with barely suppressed laughter. "Like I was saying, Ensign--" There it was again. I looked down and still saw nothing. Then I looked at Travis. "No."
"Yes."
"Oh, no." No, it couldn't be. Fate wouldn't screw with me that badly.
"Ooooh, yes."
Apparently Fate could, because when I looked back down I saw a slim feminine hand tapping its nails on the floor next to my shoe. She must have known I was looking because she suddenly made a rude gesture and pointed toward Travis' station. I looked back up at him with barely restrained glee. "She's going to kill you," I said, relishing the sight of Travis going pale under his dusky skin. "And I might just help her." I got a loving pat against my leg in response.
"There wasn't enough time to get to her before you two showed up on the Bridge," Travis hissed by way of explanation. "Or else I would have done something. I don't think you would've wanted Trip to know she was under
there."
He had a point. The Hoshi Hand seemed to agree because it showed thumbs up. "She says you have a point," I told him before crouching down. Hoshi and I looked at one another for a moment. I opened my mouth.
"I'm having a bad enough day. Shut up."
I bit my lip for a moment to keep from laughing at this insane situation. Any other time this would have been a fantasy of mine, a beautiful woman hiding under my desk and waiting for just the right moment to pounce on me. Oh, if only the Bridge were empty and I could lock Trip and the captain in his ready room. When I had myself under control, I said, "Are you just hiding or are you stuck?"
"I'm stuck," she growled.
I looked at her kneeling under my desk, trying to figure out where she could possibly be caught. "Where?" Granted it's not too dark under there but black hair and a dark blue uniform tend to blend in a bit with the shadows.
She growled again and reached forward, grabbing the front of my uniform and pulling me forward. Forced off balance, I fell forward onto my knees, my hands fumbling for purchase. My lips met hers in a kiss that deepened for a moment before I caught the edge of the desk and she squeaked in pain.
"I don't bite, you know," I said, softly pulling back. "Not unless you ask."
Damn the ship with all those dark hideaways, random closets, and now spaces under consoles that always seemed to have just enough room for two. Coincidence? I think not.
"Get. Me. Out. Of. Here." Her 'command' voice. I liked that voice. I really liked that voice. Especially when she added that sexy growl to it. What the hell was I supposed to be doing?
Oh, yeah, getting her out of there, preferably before the captain and Trip came out and started making pithy comments about the armory officer and communications officer making leaps and bounds in intra-ship communications. I got on my knees and leaned forward, finding the seam in my console where her
hair--what shampoo does she use?--was caught and gently pulled it out. Which meant Hoshi ended up leaning forward with her head on my shoulder. For a moment we just sat there, every nerve in my body going into overload, wanting to drag her off to my quarters for several hot, passionate, steamy—
"They're coming."
God, I wish I was…Oh shit, she meant THEM! I flung myself off her and slid up against the wall while she shot out from under my console and sprinted across the bridge. I wondered if she did track at the academy...she had nice legs…
"Malcolm? You all right?"
I looked up at the captain and Trip, registering their concerned faces and the fact that Hoshi looked prim and proper at her station. "Um…Yes, sir. Just a little shock." That immediately sent both men into 'mother hen' mode, clucking over my dangerous console and poor me. I protested an order to visit Sickbay. I had an ache but it was nothing the doctor could help me with. I glanced over at Hoshi's station to see her silently chuckling over the entire thing. At least we weren't caught under the console. Maybe my luck was changing.
***
Luck is a psychotic bitch and she hates me.
Crap, it was like every other first contact.
Rescue aliens on a derelict station, blah blah blah, Captain invites random aliens a tour of the ship despite my protests, yada yada yada...
DOES ANYBODY SEE A PATTERN?!
Yeah, let's invite them all to a party in the mess hall. These female aliens with their big--What was that burning sensation at the back of my head? Phlox told me he fixed that! Oh, it was Hoshi. Gulp. In case you're wondering,
yes, looks can kill, or at the very least, make an armory officer who has seen many terrible things, shake in his boots.
Alien women with big boobs were prancing all over my ship, playing havoc with male officers' heads--big and little ones--and pissing off all the women on board.
Want to know what was worse than that?
A majority of them seemed to want me.
Now, granted if this were any other time in my life, I would have been a slobbering, hormonal wreck over all the women throwing themselves at me. Dammit, a month ago I would have jumped over all of them.
Now?
Right now I had enough problems with one woman in my life. Hoshi stood near the punchbowl wearing a little red dress, completely pissed off at me, judging by the sweet, psychotic smiles she was giving me. The men, rejected by the alien women, seemed to be swarming around her and you know what? I'M GOING TO KILL THEM ALL IF THEY DON'T STOP LOOKING DOWN HER DRESS!!!
I mean I was in charge of security, right? I could kill a few people…or at least make their deaths look like believable accidents.
One of the alien women--what the hell was her name again? Bambi?--rubbed up against me and said something completely lost on me. Not that I was really paying attention anyway. Christ, why couldn't they all go after Trip? Damn woman magnet every other mission couldn't get one of them to look at him now? He usually has to beat them off with a stick! What the hell was wrong? Did he forget to bathe? Turn off his 'I'm a sexy engineering chief' beacon or something?! Bastard.
I looked over at Hoshi again and added more names to my list of people to crush with anvils. Men bad. Men suck.
*****