Disclaimer: I do not own the Enterprise characters… I've merely hi-jacked them. This is written for entertainment purposes only.
Author's note: Once again I'm picking names out… because I can't find evidence of their existence. In this case it's a middle name for Trip… if he has one, and you know it, let me know and I'll fix it. If not… well I'm sure the one I've picked will work. Thank you to my beta readers (gaianarchy and silvershadowfire) and sorry about the heart-attack, gaia… I really didn't mean to do that to you.
From: Prisoner # 1
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To: Prisoner # 2
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Re: Longing
Oh, how I miss you… that gentle but sweet scent that signals your presence… your golden beauty. How I miss the way you yield to the slightest touch and the way your inner core melts against my tongue. I pine for your deep richness, your warm soft centre…your succulent mounds, the memory of your sweet nectar, soft against my lips. The way you make me feel inside – exploding with warmth and joy until there is no-one in the whole wide world but you. I am buried in the blissful haze of your presence, unwilling to surface…
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From: Prisoner # 2
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To: Prisoner # 1
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Re: Help
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Calm down, I'm sure you'll have your pecan pie soon enough. In the mean time, might I suggest a cold shower and possibly some therapy. While I admit to a certain lust for food myself, I fear you have slipped to the point where stalking seems reasonable. You may yet require use of your fingers, and Chef's skill with knives is considerable. And you know how protective he can be. Stay strong, for I am confident I will see you soon.
………………………………………………………………………………………………
Whether or not he sees me is another issue, entirely. Since I am on a stealth mission, the entire plan is that he doesn't. Unusually, he is not my biggest obstacle; this time that role goes to the ubiquitous Malcolm. I swear, the man has been spending more time in my quarters than his own.
Since he's not here at the moment, I take full advantage and head for the bathroom. It locks and unlocks only from the inside[1]– another thing I take advantage of. Now, there are times when being small is a pain, but this is not one of them.
I start the shower running, then climb up on the sink so I can reach the ceiling. I pop one of the panels and pull myself inside. Regrettably, I have to leave my boots behind: this must be done on little cat feet – in this case, the sticky ones on the bottom of my slipper socks. Fortunately, Commander Tucker and I are housed on the same deck, so I'm not going to have to do any ladder work.
I've brought some gear with me, so this time I can pry the panel up from the inside – this one being over Commander Tucker's sink. Despite the fact that he is not a habitually messy person[2], it is quite easy to tell that these toilet facilities are frequented by a male. There's a whiff of bad aim in the air, and even from here I can see that the paper dispenser is empty and the seat is up. Other than that, it's in better shape than my own, which means that I don't have to look out for toothpaste gobs as I descend. I tiptoe over to the door and lean my ear against it.
"Don't tell me she can't have anything to do with it, Trip, she always has something to do with things like this." Captain Archer sounds like a man who realises he's running out of rope and that it's the wrong head in the noose.
"Sir. I've never known her to cause intestinal… no, there was that once, with Jeffries… but she warned him that the sandwiches hadn't been properly refrigerated." Why he remembers things like that… I have no clue.
"Trip… there is no intestinal disorder… not food poisoning, not some other bug… the scanners were reprogrammed. Which says to me: Engineering. Now, somehow I don't see Ensign Rostov making over a third of his crew appear sick… not with the extra work he's having to do. And I keep hearing another word cropping up: Union."
Oh, shit.
"Now, that she is involved in." Commander Tucker's tone perks up. "At least I hope… Captain… no, I can't ask you yet… I don't want to jinx it."
There's no verbal response from Captain Archer, but I'm assuming that the commander is getting the Arched Eyebrow[3].
"Okay… okay. Well, you know how Malcolm is always complaining about how lonely he is…"
"Commander Charles Gavin Tucker!" Wow, I never knew the commander even had a middle name. "You will put any thought of matching my armoury officer up with that… that…no." I don't think I've ever heard Captain Archer this upset. I know I've never heard him shout this loud. He takes a deep breath and lowers his voice to something audible. "I thought he was your friend, Trip. Why would you want to do that to him?"
Why would he want to do that to me?
"Lieutenant Hess is my friend, too." I can barely hear Commander Tucker. "You don't have to be so mean to her…"
"Trip… are you… Trip… stop crying. You are a grown man… you are a Starfleet Commander… you are Chief Engineer of the Flagship of the fleet… stop crying, damnit!"
"No. Because you're being mean. You're always so mean to her…" He pauses to blow his nose… poor baby. I'm beginning to reconsider my reason for coming. After all, right now he needs a hug.
"Trip…" Captain Archer sounds like he doesn't know what to say. If he's honest – which he tends to be – he's only going to make Commander Tucker more upset. But if he's not…
"Go away. I don't like you any more. You're mean."
There's a pause, then Captain Archer speaks again. "I'm calling Phlox. This is overboard, even for you."
No… don't call the doctor… that just means I'll be here longer. But sure enough… old Mister Soft-hearted makes the call.
Minutes tick by… then Phlox takes his time fussing over the patient, and I'm starting to lose mine. Finally he makes his diagnosis.
"Stress, captain. Commander Tucker has always been an active person… this forced confinement is very stressful for him. Perhaps I should look in on Lieutenant Hess as well."
No. No, no, no. Looking in on Lieutenant Hess is not necessary. Lieutenant Hess is fine… Lieutenant Hess has outlets…
"Lieutenant Hess doesn't suffer from stress… she's a carrier." Apparently Captain Archer has gone back to honest.
"You're being me-ean again…" The commander falls into another round of sobs.
"Doctor… can't you give him something for that?" The captain sounds like he's getting a headache.
"Perhaps you should try not being so 'mean' around him. I can see Commander Tucker's point, Captain. Lieutenant Hess is his friend and your comments do seem to be less than kind…"
"Oh, don't you start, too. I am merely stating that the level of stress Lieutenant Hess causes is greater than the amount she apparently…"
"WHAAAA!!!!"
"If you're going to behave like a child… you can stay in your room! And no dinner, either!!" Captain Archer stomps out… I bet he wishes he could slam a door right now. From the sound of the feet, the doctor follows shortly after.
Several more minutes pass before the sniffles diminish. Then more footsteps, shuffling this way.
I bolt for the sink and get up in the crawlspace just before the door opens. Hopefully it's just a quick… no, he's having a shower. Not only that, but I've got a bad angle[4]. I'm beginning to rethink my plan, when he starts talking to himself.
"I'll show him. Malcolm and Nic are going to be the happiest people in the world. In the universe. Then we'll see who's suffering from 'overstress.'" He still sounds like he's crying… but now I'm not sympathetic.
You bastard. Just when I start feeling sorry for him… he does something like that.
Oh well, now's as good a time as any. With the sound of the shower covering my movements I clamber down again and head into the main room to begin my search. I know he's around here, somewhere…
The water stops, and there's footsteps heading to the bathroom door. Quickly I dive into the closest hiding spot I can find: under the bed. Apparently I'm not the only one with a bunny… though his seem to be solely of the dust variety. A pair of ankles appears in my line of vision as he begins rummaging through his dresser. He gets dressed… I didn't know he had fluffy blue flannel p.j.'s. This is just too perfect.
He pads over, and climbs into bed. I hear some shifting above me, then… Oh no, he isn't… Yes, he is… the sounds are unmistakable.
The Great Escape? Didn't we just watch that? Not only that, but the movie's more than three freakin' hours long. You are such a dead man.
Fortunately, the movie seems to be the commander's version of a goodnight story, because after about ten minutes he turns it off and turns down the lights. A few minutes later I hear gentle, even snores.
He looks so sweet when he's asleep. I mean, I don't even have a maternal instinct[5]… and all think about when I see him asleep is what he'd look like as a kid. Actually, he does look like a kid when he's asleep, all sweet and innocent.
There's just enough light to continue my search. I'm running out of options when…
"Mean."
I just about have a heart attack. Then I remember something.
"Hey, gorgeous."
A goofy smile spreads across his lips. "Hi, Nicci." His eyes stay nicely closed.
"I told you I'd come see you. Do you remember?"
"Uh, huh. Nice."
"Yes. Can you tell me where Mr. Fuzzy-Wuzzy is?" Commander Tucker is a goldmine of information… especially if you can get him talking while he's asleep.
"Safe." Of course, sometimes you have to work at getting it out of him.
"Where, safe?"
"Closet. Top shelf. Safe." Not any more, he ain't.
"Thanks, gorgeous." I seize my hostage then drop a light kiss on the commander's brow. "Sleep tight. And don't worry about me. I can handle Mr. Meanie okay… I don't mind." I tuck Mr. Fuzzy-Wuzzy under Commander Tucker's arm.
"Okay." The smile widens, and he hugs his bear tight. Sometimes life is just too easy.
What? You think Commander Tucker is the only person on board Enterprise with a camera? I take shots from a couple of angles, including one where it looks like he's sucking his thumb. Then I carefully extricate Mr. Fuzzy-Wuzzy from his owner's grasp. The commander sighs, then rolls over to face the wall.
I move as quickly as I dare… fortunately I don't drop the ceiling panel. Then it's a matter of retracing my steps back to my quarters and…
One of my brothers once told me that I don't have a sixth sense… I have a ninth one[6]. Something tells me that it's been a little too easy. Quickly I strip and duck into the shower – it's still running – then wrap myself in a towel before heading into the main area.
Good thing, because guess who's sitting on the bed, checking his watch?
"Scarlett. It's been over two hours… that must be a record. I'm surprised you aren't completely wrinkled."
"Sir." I pull my towel tighter, as though he were unexpected. "Have you really been…"
He nods, a bemused smile on his face. "I was worried, though… I couldn't hear any movement or splashing and I thought that maybe you'd fallen and hurt yourself and were unable to call for help… I considered breaking down the door." He stands up and walks over to me, until we're standing nearly toe to toe. "I was worried about you, Scarlett…" His gaze travels downward, until it reaches my right foot. "Well, that's one mystery solved…"
I hold the foot out so he can get a better look. "Were you expecting a flower?"
"No, a fox definitely suits you, Scarlett." He leans closer, his lips just brushing mine. "Or, should I say, vixen. What should I tell Captain Archer about you? I think we can both agree…" he runs a finger lightly along my shoulder, "…that you were not in the shower for more than two hours."
Perhaps I've underestimated him… I never would have thought he'd stoop to blackmail. "I've got three little words that might convince you not to say a thing…" I've never been above a little bribery, however.
"And they would be?"
"Mr. Fuzzy-Wuzzy." I can tell he's interested, because his eyebrows nearly disappear into his hairline.
"That wouldn't happen to be your…" He begins to absently scratch his arm.
"No. Mr. Fuzzy-Wuzzy is a close personal companion of Commander Charles Tucker. Perhaps you'd like to meet him." Without waiting for an answer, I take a step back then turn and go back to the bathroom to retrieve my new bargaining chip.
Malcolm's eyes light up when he sees what I've got. "Well. That is an unexpected surprise." There's a few things he needs to get even with the commander over, too.
"You should see my pictures. Now. Let's get down to some serious negotiating." If Commander Tucker wants to play dirty… I can play very dirty indeed.
[1] Especially now that I've fixed it.
[2] At least by my standards
[3] Hey. This thing is powerful enough to deserve capitals. It compels elaboration… even from me.
[4] Not that there's something there I haven't seen before… but that's another story.
[5] I'm sure this confession would thrill Captain Archer.
[6] I don't sense when something's wrong… I'm generally the cause.