Disclaimers: Paramount owns them. The sonnets quoted are, respectively, Sonnet 84 and Sonnet 81, both by William Shakespeare.
Author's Notes: This is a weird and wildly different idea that came to me while I was thinking about "Here Comes the Bride." I do intend to finish that, but this practically wrote itself. There will be more as soon as I decide…well, you'll see.
The First Day
At first, it had just been another away mission gone wrong, another few days in an alien prison before a valiant escape, another chance to prove that sometimes the good guys do win. Certainly, it struck the three of them as odd that they could remember only nine days of captivity, and Captain Archer insisted that they'd been missing for ten. Overall, though, they were just glad to be back. After Phlox had examined them, they intended to go back to their respective quarters and sleep on a mattress with a pillow.
Thus it came as quite a surprise when the doctor remarked casually, "Ensign, I wasn't aware that you are romantically involved with someone," as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
Trip had been looking down at his feet, waiting for the second he could go take a nice, hot shower. In fact, he'd only discounted jogging to his quarters because he lacked the energy to do so. The aliens, whose name he didn't even know, were not by any means overly generous with their porridge. Suddenly his head snapped up. "Nine- no, ten- hell, all that time in a cramped cell and you didn't tell us?"
Malcolm, who'd been released and was halfway to the door, whirled around. For a fleeting second, a look of pain crossed his face. "Hoshi?"
She was too tired to look perplexed. "Why do you think I'm involved with someone, Doctor?"
"You won't be able to keep it a secret much longer, Ensign. You're pregnant!"
Malcolm and Trip both looked as though they'd been hit with a heavy object, but that was nothing compared to the look on Hoshi's face. "What?"
"Congratulations!"
"That's not possible." Now she was irritated. Phlox had never done anything like this before. Malcolm and Trip appeared speechless.
"It's quite possible. You have not come for your last three birth control injections. Of course, now might not be the best time to start a family, but if that's what the two of you really want, I can… Ensign?"
"This is impossible."
"I assure you, it's not."
"I haven't been with anyone in almost a year."
He frowned. "Perplexing. Are you certain?"
"Of course I'm certain!"
Jumping into head-of-security-mode, Malcolm stiffened and began thinking. He didn't like what he came up with. "How far along is she?"
"Lieutenant, unless you are the father, I can't tell you that unless I have Ensign Sato's express permission."
Since she had no idea, it couldn't hurt to learn. "How far, Doctor?"
"Very well. I can't tell you exactly, but I would say that you're no more than two weeks pregnant."
Trip looked at Malcolm and it all made sense. "The tenth day."
By this time, Hoshi had gone into a sort of shock. "What?"
"The tenth day, Hoshi. The one we can't remember. Anything could've happened."
"An' if it was the first day…" Trip let her draw her own conclusion from that.
"What happened?" she whispered. Malcolm put his self-failure tirade on hold, for he could blame himself in his quarters later, and walked over to her. He gently put his hand on top of hers. Trip pulled her into a hug.
"Is it human?" She wasn't really sure that she wanted to know. Could she love a baby that was half-alien, conceived without her consent in a prison?
"Indeed. There is no doubt that your child is fully human."
Now Trip and Malcolm looked at each other. Hoshi sat between them, tears running down her cheeks.
"Um, Doc, can we have a little more ta go on?" Trip's shower had faded in importance to zero.
"Well, I can do a complete genetic scan. It will only take a few minutes."
"No." Hoshi's voice was firm. "Not yet, please. Give me a few days."
"If that's what you wish. I assume you would like me to refrain from mentioning this to the captain?"
She nodded.
Before Malcolm could open his mouth and say the phrase "security concern," Trip spoke for both of them. "We won't tell a soul till you're ready."
Inwardly sighing, Malcolm put friendship first and agreed. "Nobody. Want me to walk you to your quarters?"
Again, she nodded. Trip took up position on the other side of her, and they walked all the way to her quarters after Phlox handed her a bottle of vitamins and asked her to return in twenty-four hours.
They helped her onto her bed. "If there's anything you need, I'll do everything in my power to help." Offering emotional support had never been Malcolm's strong suit. In a twist of fate, the friend who taught him by example now needed it more than he ever could.
"Day or night, Hoshi," echoed Trip. He knelt down. "Want some company, or do ya need ta be alone?"
She inhaled so sharply that both men thought she'd pass out. "It was the first day."
"You remember?"
"The first day. It just came to me."
"You really remember?"
"Don't you? The first day, and I was reciting Shakespeare."
"What?"
"Think, Malcolm! Do you remember?
Who is it that says most? which can say more
Than this rich praise, that you alone are you?
Think, Malcolm, think!" She was becoming hysterical.
It hit him like a ton of bricks.
"In whose confine immured is the stone
Which should example where your equal grew.
Bloody hell!"
"Wait, so this is…you guys…what?" stammered Trip in a failed attempt to form a coherent sentence.
"Trip, you have to remember!
From hence your memory death cannot take,
Although in me each part will be forgotten.
You can remember all your schematics, there's no way you can forget this!"
He was about to deny it when a phrase popped into his head. It rolled off his tongue like Shakespeare never had before.
"Your name from hence immortal life shall have,
Though I, once gone, to all the world must die.
What's it mean, Hoshi?"
Malcolm turned an uncomfortable shade of red. "Are you saying that you and Trip…" He trailed off, affected as Trip and similarly unable to form a sentence.
"I always thought Shakespeare was sexy," admitted Hoshi. "Those are my two favorite sonnets."
"Shakespeare and sex?" Trip had found his voice again, though it was quite weak.
"Both of us?" asked Malcolm.
"One of you has to be the father."
"I'm just gettin' bits and pieces of memory here. What happened?"
"Malcolm and I had sex. You and I had sex."
"I kinda figured. Why?"
"Mind-altering drugs?" suggested Malcolm, who was quite sure that he would never have done anything so improper in his right mind, especially in an alien prison.
"Phlox didn't find anything unusual." Although this seemed to Trip to be the only explanation, there were a lot of unknowns.
"Well, no offense, but I don't think we were quite ourselves," supplied Hoshi. "Why, oh why didn't I get those injections?"
"It's not your fault, Hoshi. It doesn't seem like it was anyone's fault. Don't blame yourself."
"Yeah, there's enough guilt ta go around. Don't hog it." This remark earned Trip a stern glare from Malcolm.
"Can we wait until morning to tell Phlox and Captain Archer?"
This went against every instinct Malcolm had, but again Trip cut him off. "I don't see why not. Nothin's gonna change."
Well, Trip was skirting around a big issue in Malcolm's opinion. "Hoshi. Do you want to keep it?" he asked quietly.
Damn, thought Trip, I didn't even consider that!
"Yes," she answered without hesitation. "I know it's just a few days, but I couldn't…I just couldn't do it."
"We're here for ya."
"Whatever it takes."
"Both of ya."
"Anything at all, Hoshi, and I mean it."
A small smile played at the corner of her lips, though the tears were fresh on her face. "Thank you. I don't know what to make of this."
"If it makes ya feel better, neither do I."
"This is all new to me. I only half remember that first day." Actually, half was a generous overestimation. Silence followed for a moment after these remarks. Hoshi wiped her tears, and the three of them stayed deep in thought, trying to recall more details and clues.
"I think I'd like to be alone for the night, if you two don't mind. Tomorrow at 0930 will you meet me here? We're going to have to go to Sickbay eventually."
"We should eat first."
"Trip, this better not be an indicator of how the next nine months are going to pass."
He hung his head. "I said we."
"Come on, Trip. I think we could all use a good night's sleep."
"Right. See ya tomorrow then."
"Thank you."
When they left, Hoshi started crying all over again. A seemingly endless stream of questions ran through her head until she was so exhausted she could stave them off no longer.
"Good morning! I must admit I didn't expect to see you so soon, Ensign. Lieutenant, Commander, you seem to have appointed yourselves Ensign Sato's bodyguards." This attempt at humor wasn't well received. All he got was a sum total of three stares.
"Well, Ensign, would you like that genetic scan now?"
"It's one of us," supplied Trip.
"Well then, the scan won't take long at all. Are you positive?"
"The first day," said Hoshi, "they must've given us something. Either Trip or Malcolm is the father."
"I didn't find any remnants of drugs in your blood."
"It's possible though, isn't it?"
"Yes, of course. I can't rule anything out."
"We can't remember everything, but we're sure." Malcolm was distinctly sure that the last day had been the most awkward of his entire life.
"Let me see. Ah yes, a perfect match."
"No!" exclaimed Hoshi. "I don't want to know."
"You don't want to know who the father is?" This he could hardly believe. Human patients had never been so complex before.
"Not ever?" said Malcolm, who was not at all fond of the idea.
"What would it change?"
When she put it that way, he didn't think it would change much. He would support her however she needed whether he was the father or not. Actually, his motives for wanting to know were purely selfish, in a claiming sort of fashion. He could've smacked himself, although he was pretty sure Trip was thinking the same thing.
"You sure, Hoshi?"
"Yes."
"Well, you can always change your mind, Ensign," said Phlox, who very much hoped she would. He also thought that she was still in shock. Soon, in his estimation, the emotional floodgates would open. The three of them were in for what he believed was known as a "rough ride."