*****
Not really remembering how she got back to her quarters, Hoshi looked around them as though she didn't recognize them. She walked into her bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror, touching her lips hesitantly. Malcolm's words haunted her and she wonder what memories were waiting for him in the shadows of his amnesia. Was there a lover, a girlfriend ... a wife?
Mentally chastising herself for even thinking about the kiss, but knowing good and well she wouldn't sleep tonight, she set out to find out more about Malcolm Reed, even if it meant breaking a few rules.
Wasting no time she sat down at her terminal and started taping away at the keyboard, preferring the old-fashioned method of hacking into a system. Her screen flashed brightly in front of her as she accessed the main Starfleet terminal, posing as a routine diagnostic of the communications array. So far, so good. Nothing too fishy.
Taking a deep breath and crossing her fingers, Hoshi entered the code she had come across during her training days. She wasn't surprised when the code didn't work. It was an old code after all. Staring at the time display on her monitor, Hoshi started working on finding a new password. It shouldn't be too hard. The data was nothing more than a programming language waiting to tell her its secrets.
--
The air was clear, yet heavy with heat. It was the kind of heat that made it difficult to breathe – the kind of heat where it drained any semblance of moisture from anything it surrounded. Malcolm could feel the moisture abandoning his limbs as the arid nature drained him.
In the distance, a comforting wind howled. On the wind was a woman's laughter, soft and inviting. Startled, Malcolm turned toward the welcoming noise, finding no one. He was alone. Isn't that what he wanted?
The breeze caressed the barren sand, creating a microcosmic tornado. Shielding his eyes and face from the sting of the sand, he fell to his knees. As soon as the whirlwind had begun, it stopped. An intimate shadow fell on the ground in front of him and he looked up, feeling what he did not know. Even his dreams were clouded for her couldn't see the face of his redeemer – the one who was going to save him. Save him from what he knew not what. An overwhelming sense of loss and emptiness loomed on the horizon as the sun set on the dream, taking away the shadow and the hope.
--
Hoshi stared at the screen in frustration, having made some progress, but not in the direction she wanted. Using Malcolm Reed, as a search term wasn't really turning much up other than what she already knew. It was as though he didn't exist. It was either that or somebody had wiped him off the proverbial face of the Earth.
Taking a sip of water, she glared at the numerous entries, which basically said the same thing – Lieutenant Commander Malcolm Reed, missing in action and presumed dead August 8, 2152. She clicked on another report, expecting much of the same and something unexpected caught her eye – a medical log. At this point, she was willing to explore any avenue, no matter how slim the possibility was it would actually yield some truth.
A weary sigh filled the room as an audio log started to play. "Chief Medical Officer's Log, April 17th, 2150. Lieutenant Reed managed to do it again, and I in my Godlike status of his saving physician, have managed to patch his ass up. When I think of the mission parameters, which they set up, I shudder. It's amazing the twit is alive. Pretty soon I'll have my own personal shrapnel collection on his contributions alone."
Hoshi blinked and sat on the edge of her seat. Could he be referring to her Lieutenant Commander Reed?
The log continued. "Malcolm assures me that he doesn't get shot on purpose, but sometimes I really wonder."
Her gut knotted and she chewed on her lip.
"We're in the Banderis system on a routine sweep. Lieutenant Reed is as tight-lipped as ever regarding mission specifics. This time he suffered some shrapnel burns in his chest and abdomen. Luckily, they have one kick ass field medic; otherwise, Malcolm would have cashed out a long time ago. Actually I think Mukai has the hots for him. Maybe that's what motivates her to keep patching him up.
"Chief Medical Officer's Log, May 30, 2150. Lieutenant Reed has earned a commendation, and I'm afraid the price was a bit steep. There was a hostage crisis onboard a class-two hauler and he took a plasma hit in his right shoulder. I've informed Starfleet time and time again that their combat vests aren't of the best design. When Mr. Reed woke up from surgery, he actually argued that there was nothing wrong with the design and he would rather have the mobility in his shoulders and arms then to weigh them down with extra padding. I sometimes wonder how the man got past the Starfleet psych test. One thing's for sure. If I ever go into private practice, I'm going to name a wing of my facility after the man."
The log ended and Hoshi focused on the screen to see if there were any more crumbs to his past. There was no name attached to the logs and no ship designations. Who had recorded the logs? What ship did he serve on? If she could find the doctor, would he be willing to help Malcolm? Leaning forward, Hoshi tried to focus on the screen some more, but it was no use. She was spent as excitement coursed through her veins and the urge to tell somebody overwhelmed her.
--
He didn't know whether it was being woken from a deep sleep or if he was still getting used to being able to hear, but the noise which woke him was growing louder and more annoying. It wasn't going away either. Sitting up in bed, Malcolm noticed Porthos already standing at the door, the dog was staring and wagging his tail in welcome. Half stumbling and half limping due to his muscles protesting the interruption of their rest, Malcolm made his way to the door. The chronometer on his terminal flashed an obscene time – 4:26 A.M. Making a mental note of the time, he realized who the person on the other side of the door was.
Without thinking of the consequences to his sanity, Malcolm opened the door.
Her thoughts were clocking at an inhuman speed. She felt like a detective who had finally reached a break-through on a cold case. All thoughts came to a screeching halt once the door opened. A scowling, half-naked Malcolm Reed glared back at her. Yes, she'd seen him naked before but that was different. This time he was clean and Hoshi was able to discern the distinct musculature of his abs and the narrow pattern of hair, which trailed down the center of his stomach and disappeared beneath the waistband of his boxers.
"This had better be good, Lieutenant," Malcolm barked and saw her eyes travel the length of his body. Suddenly, he was very aware that he was practically naked and standing half way in the hall. Grabbing her upper arms firmly, he pulled her into his quarters.
Porthos didn't move and Hoshi didn't notice the canine obstacle in her way. Tripping over the dog she stumbled into Malcolm. Hoshi gasped, her hands firmly planting themselves on his chest and the rest of her body traitorously, if not willingly, falling against him.
The door shut behind her, neither realizing Porthos had taken the moment to escape.
Her soft warmth turned into a slow burning heat against his skin, the thin t-shirt she wore providing little barrier between them. Malcolm held her against him, terrified to move, yet at the same time thankful not to move. Her wide brown eyes staring back at him in shock and surprise, Malcolm realized a small truth – He could spend a lifetime looking into them.
His eyes were so blue, like the sky. She cringed inwardly at the overused metaphor, and realized the color comparison really didn't do justice to their color. Her hand resting comfortably on his chest, she could feel the muscles twitch. She looked at his lips, his breath gingerly caressing her cheek, and she licked her own lips nervously. The reason she had come to see him totally escaped her at the moment.
He had tried not to think about the kiss in the elevator, banishing the memory to the back of his mind. After all, the only stable factor in his life right now was his ability to forget. Unfortunately, he could think of nothing other than that kiss and the feel of his body pressed against hers. Now her body pressing against his and the motion of her licking her lips sent any noble intentions he had out the airlock.
Every nerve ending thrummed inside her, begging for further intimacy with this man. Logic screamed in the back of her sleep-deprived man. You remind him of someone. You're merely a stand in for someone else. Think, Hoshi. Use your common sense and...
Feeling his hands expand across her back, Hoshi looked into Malcolm's eyes. They were no longer sky blue. They appeared darker, his intent clearly reflected in them. Her eyes fluttered shut as he got closer, the whisper of a promise against her lips. The whisper soon became a hesitant kiss, the hesitant kiss quickly into a passionate one.
Only in his dreams had he heard a woman's desirous sigh. Never in his dreams was he able to take that sigh inside himself. Her taste was intoxicating and the kiss deepened.
Sensory overload! His taste-- his touch-- the feel of his hands upon her was too much. The sound of his low groan caused a shiver to clamor down her spine. Hoshi moved to touch him more, her one palm leaving the expanse of his chest while the other hand still held on to the PADD. She was a puddle of mush and her limbs would not cooperate. A loud clang sounded in the cabin as the PADD fell from her hand and hit the deck plating, bringing Hoshi's reality crashing back to her.
Somehow managing to pull away from the kiss, Hoshi pulled away from him too. She would a substitute for someone he may love. "I-I found s- something," she whispered shakily, looking to the floor for the PADD and avoiding his gaze.
A frustrated ache had grown deep inside him and Malcolm stood there, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.
"It's a log ... a medical log," she stammered, standing back up and holding the PADD out to him. "I'm pretty sure it's yours."
Greater than his desire for her, was his desire to remember. He took the PADD from her proffered hand and quickly linked it to his terminal, the audio log automatically playing.
Watching the play of emotions on his face as the log played, Hoshi sat on his bed and waited.
He listened to the log and at the parts where the CMO noted injuries, Malcolm checked for any visible scarring along that part of his body. Running his hand over his chest and his shoulder, he found they were smooth and unmarked. The log ended and Malcolm stood there, his mind racing, trying to remember.
"Where did you find this?" he asked gruffly and turned to see he would get no answer to his question for Hoshi was half laying and half sitting on his bed asleep, her legs hanging over the side of the bed. Cursing, he turned away from her and got dressed. Maybe Phlox had some answers.
Giving one last look around his cabin, Malcolm disconnected the PADD from the terminal and started to leave, but stopped suddenly. It was obvious her insomnia had kept her up and a nagging guilt infiltrated his thoughts. Was it because of him? He had spent a few hours trying to get to sleep, his thoughts always ending up on their kiss in the lift.
Against his better judgment, he set the PADD down and knelt in front of her, hearing a soft snore emanate from her. She was sleeping soundly so he picked up her legs and placed them on the bed so she wasn't so twisted. She sighed in her sleep and moved her face away from him. Unable to resist, he touched the ebony hair that was still pulled severely back into her traditional ponytail. The clip gave way easily and her hair fanned out in relief, finally able to rest like its mistress.
Coming to his senses, he covered her sleeping form with a blanket.
A deep longing stirred within him. He wanted her. It was a basic truth, an inescapable truth. Of its own volition, his hand reached out to touch the familiar silken strands, but a persistent scratch at the door told Malcolm his canine keeper had experienced enough freedom.
Standing, he clutched the PADD in his hand and opened the door, making his way to sickbay.
*****
TBC
Not really remembering how she got back to her quarters, Hoshi looked around them as though she didn't recognize them. She walked into her bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror, touching her lips hesitantly. Malcolm's words haunted her and she wonder what memories were waiting for him in the shadows of his amnesia. Was there a lover, a girlfriend ... a wife?
Mentally chastising herself for even thinking about the kiss, but knowing good and well she wouldn't sleep tonight, she set out to find out more about Malcolm Reed, even if it meant breaking a few rules.
Wasting no time she sat down at her terminal and started taping away at the keyboard, preferring the old-fashioned method of hacking into a system. Her screen flashed brightly in front of her as she accessed the main Starfleet terminal, posing as a routine diagnostic of the communications array. So far, so good. Nothing too fishy.
Taking a deep breath and crossing her fingers, Hoshi entered the code she had come across during her training days. She wasn't surprised when the code didn't work. It was an old code after all. Staring at the time display on her monitor, Hoshi started working on finding a new password. It shouldn't be too hard. The data was nothing more than a programming language waiting to tell her its secrets.
--
The air was clear, yet heavy with heat. It was the kind of heat that made it difficult to breathe – the kind of heat where it drained any semblance of moisture from anything it surrounded. Malcolm could feel the moisture abandoning his limbs as the arid nature drained him.
In the distance, a comforting wind howled. On the wind was a woman's laughter, soft and inviting. Startled, Malcolm turned toward the welcoming noise, finding no one. He was alone. Isn't that what he wanted?
The breeze caressed the barren sand, creating a microcosmic tornado. Shielding his eyes and face from the sting of the sand, he fell to his knees. As soon as the whirlwind had begun, it stopped. An intimate shadow fell on the ground in front of him and he looked up, feeling what he did not know. Even his dreams were clouded for her couldn't see the face of his redeemer – the one who was going to save him. Save him from what he knew not what. An overwhelming sense of loss and emptiness loomed on the horizon as the sun set on the dream, taking away the shadow and the hope.
--
Hoshi stared at the screen in frustration, having made some progress, but not in the direction she wanted. Using Malcolm Reed, as a search term wasn't really turning much up other than what she already knew. It was as though he didn't exist. It was either that or somebody had wiped him off the proverbial face of the Earth.
Taking a sip of water, she glared at the numerous entries, which basically said the same thing – Lieutenant Commander Malcolm Reed, missing in action and presumed dead August 8, 2152. She clicked on another report, expecting much of the same and something unexpected caught her eye – a medical log. At this point, she was willing to explore any avenue, no matter how slim the possibility was it would actually yield some truth.
A weary sigh filled the room as an audio log started to play. "Chief Medical Officer's Log, April 17th, 2150. Lieutenant Reed managed to do it again, and I in my Godlike status of his saving physician, have managed to patch his ass up. When I think of the mission parameters, which they set up, I shudder. It's amazing the twit is alive. Pretty soon I'll have my own personal shrapnel collection on his contributions alone."
Hoshi blinked and sat on the edge of her seat. Could he be referring to her Lieutenant Commander Reed?
The log continued. "Malcolm assures me that he doesn't get shot on purpose, but sometimes I really wonder."
Her gut knotted and she chewed on her lip.
"We're in the Banderis system on a routine sweep. Lieutenant Reed is as tight-lipped as ever regarding mission specifics. This time he suffered some shrapnel burns in his chest and abdomen. Luckily, they have one kick ass field medic; otherwise, Malcolm would have cashed out a long time ago. Actually I think Mukai has the hots for him. Maybe that's what motivates her to keep patching him up.
"Chief Medical Officer's Log, May 30, 2150. Lieutenant Reed has earned a commendation, and I'm afraid the price was a bit steep. There was a hostage crisis onboard a class-two hauler and he took a plasma hit in his right shoulder. I've informed Starfleet time and time again that their combat vests aren't of the best design. When Mr. Reed woke up from surgery, he actually argued that there was nothing wrong with the design and he would rather have the mobility in his shoulders and arms then to weigh them down with extra padding. I sometimes wonder how the man got past the Starfleet psych test. One thing's for sure. If I ever go into private practice, I'm going to name a wing of my facility after the man."
The log ended and Hoshi focused on the screen to see if there were any more crumbs to his past. There was no name attached to the logs and no ship designations. Who had recorded the logs? What ship did he serve on? If she could find the doctor, would he be willing to help Malcolm? Leaning forward, Hoshi tried to focus on the screen some more, but it was no use. She was spent as excitement coursed through her veins and the urge to tell somebody overwhelmed her.
--
He didn't know whether it was being woken from a deep sleep or if he was still getting used to being able to hear, but the noise which woke him was growing louder and more annoying. It wasn't going away either. Sitting up in bed, Malcolm noticed Porthos already standing at the door, the dog was staring and wagging his tail in welcome. Half stumbling and half limping due to his muscles protesting the interruption of their rest, Malcolm made his way to the door. The chronometer on his terminal flashed an obscene time – 4:26 A.M. Making a mental note of the time, he realized who the person on the other side of the door was.
Without thinking of the consequences to his sanity, Malcolm opened the door.
Her thoughts were clocking at an inhuman speed. She felt like a detective who had finally reached a break-through on a cold case. All thoughts came to a screeching halt once the door opened. A scowling, half-naked Malcolm Reed glared back at her. Yes, she'd seen him naked before but that was different. This time he was clean and Hoshi was able to discern the distinct musculature of his abs and the narrow pattern of hair, which trailed down the center of his stomach and disappeared beneath the waistband of his boxers.
"This had better be good, Lieutenant," Malcolm barked and saw her eyes travel the length of his body. Suddenly, he was very aware that he was practically naked and standing half way in the hall. Grabbing her upper arms firmly, he pulled her into his quarters.
Porthos didn't move and Hoshi didn't notice the canine obstacle in her way. Tripping over the dog she stumbled into Malcolm. Hoshi gasped, her hands firmly planting themselves on his chest and the rest of her body traitorously, if not willingly, falling against him.
The door shut behind her, neither realizing Porthos had taken the moment to escape.
Her soft warmth turned into a slow burning heat against his skin, the thin t-shirt she wore providing little barrier between them. Malcolm held her against him, terrified to move, yet at the same time thankful not to move. Her wide brown eyes staring back at him in shock and surprise, Malcolm realized a small truth – He could spend a lifetime looking into them.
His eyes were so blue, like the sky. She cringed inwardly at the overused metaphor, and realized the color comparison really didn't do justice to their color. Her hand resting comfortably on his chest, she could feel the muscles twitch. She looked at his lips, his breath gingerly caressing her cheek, and she licked her own lips nervously. The reason she had come to see him totally escaped her at the moment.
He had tried not to think about the kiss in the elevator, banishing the memory to the back of his mind. After all, the only stable factor in his life right now was his ability to forget. Unfortunately, he could think of nothing other than that kiss and the feel of his body pressed against hers. Now her body pressing against his and the motion of her licking her lips sent any noble intentions he had out the airlock.
Every nerve ending thrummed inside her, begging for further intimacy with this man. Logic screamed in the back of her sleep-deprived man. You remind him of someone. You're merely a stand in for someone else. Think, Hoshi. Use your common sense and...
Feeling his hands expand across her back, Hoshi looked into Malcolm's eyes. They were no longer sky blue. They appeared darker, his intent clearly reflected in them. Her eyes fluttered shut as he got closer, the whisper of a promise against her lips. The whisper soon became a hesitant kiss, the hesitant kiss quickly into a passionate one.
Only in his dreams had he heard a woman's desirous sigh. Never in his dreams was he able to take that sigh inside himself. Her taste was intoxicating and the kiss deepened.
Sensory overload! His taste-- his touch-- the feel of his hands upon her was too much. The sound of his low groan caused a shiver to clamor down her spine. Hoshi moved to touch him more, her one palm leaving the expanse of his chest while the other hand still held on to the PADD. She was a puddle of mush and her limbs would not cooperate. A loud clang sounded in the cabin as the PADD fell from her hand and hit the deck plating, bringing Hoshi's reality crashing back to her.
Somehow managing to pull away from the kiss, Hoshi pulled away from him too. She would a substitute for someone he may love. "I-I found s- something," she whispered shakily, looking to the floor for the PADD and avoiding his gaze.
A frustrated ache had grown deep inside him and Malcolm stood there, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.
"It's a log ... a medical log," she stammered, standing back up and holding the PADD out to him. "I'm pretty sure it's yours."
Greater than his desire for her, was his desire to remember. He took the PADD from her proffered hand and quickly linked it to his terminal, the audio log automatically playing.
Watching the play of emotions on his face as the log played, Hoshi sat on his bed and waited.
He listened to the log and at the parts where the CMO noted injuries, Malcolm checked for any visible scarring along that part of his body. Running his hand over his chest and his shoulder, he found they were smooth and unmarked. The log ended and Malcolm stood there, his mind racing, trying to remember.
"Where did you find this?" he asked gruffly and turned to see he would get no answer to his question for Hoshi was half laying and half sitting on his bed asleep, her legs hanging over the side of the bed. Cursing, he turned away from her and got dressed. Maybe Phlox had some answers.
Giving one last look around his cabin, Malcolm disconnected the PADD from the terminal and started to leave, but stopped suddenly. It was obvious her insomnia had kept her up and a nagging guilt infiltrated his thoughts. Was it because of him? He had spent a few hours trying to get to sleep, his thoughts always ending up on their kiss in the lift.
Against his better judgment, he set the PADD down and knelt in front of her, hearing a soft snore emanate from her. She was sleeping soundly so he picked up her legs and placed them on the bed so she wasn't so twisted. She sighed in her sleep and moved her face away from him. Unable to resist, he touched the ebony hair that was still pulled severely back into her traditional ponytail. The clip gave way easily and her hair fanned out in relief, finally able to rest like its mistress.
Coming to his senses, he covered her sleeping form with a blanket.
A deep longing stirred within him. He wanted her. It was a basic truth, an inescapable truth. Of its own volition, his hand reached out to touch the familiar silken strands, but a persistent scratch at the door told Malcolm his canine keeper had experienced enough freedom.
Standing, he clutched the PADD in his hand and opened the door, making his way to sickbay.
*****
TBC