A/N – Thanks to all who left a review. Only one more chapter after this…Enjoy!

Chapter Two –

He should be nominated for sainthood. Walking away from Hoshi two nights ago had been the hardest thing he had ever done. Kissing her had been wrong; she had been inebriated.

Once he had accepted her dare he knew it was a lost cause.

Malcolm didn't know if it was all the time he had lusted after her or almost losing her in the Expanse that drove him that night.

"Okay, Lieutenant," her voice whispered against his cheek. "I dare you to kiss me."

It was like waving a red cape in front of a raging bull. He sealed his lips over hers, thrusting his tongue past the last of her resolve, and tasting the intoxicating mixture of plum wine and her.

A warning went off in his head when she moaned. She was drunk. He should stop. His conscience lost its battle as the feel of her hands under his shirt encouraged something primitive inside him.

Her wanton undulation of her hips against his drained the last of his reason. He broke the kiss and tugged her peasant blouse over her head, baring the black lace bra. His eyes fixed on the labored rise and fall of her chest.

"Thank God for push-up bras," she stated dreamily, then went slack in his arms.

Malcolm almost dropped her, but finally managed to gather her closer. "Hoshi?" his voice wavered, part from the effort of holding her dead weight and part from the realization his would-be-lover had passed out, and the passion he felt for Hoshi would not be realized tonight.

He scooped her into his arms and carried her down the hall. Luckily there were only two doors – one to the bathroom and the other to her bedroom. With exertion, he plopped her onto the double bed. He straightened, breathing heavily and trying to calm himself. Running a shaky hand through his hair, he turned to leave, but her reflection in the mirror caught his eye.

Her legs were at odd angles, twisted in the material of her skirt. Her shoes were caught in the comforter. "Damn," he swore out loud, his frustration mounting.

She was totally limp as he tugged the comforter and sheet from under her, a slight snore sounding from her. Some of the pillows shifted and fell off the bed, exposing a light blue stuffed bunny whose eyes were mismatched buttons, obviously sewed on with love.

"Yoshiko, I presume," Malcolm muttered, glaring at the fortunate stuffed animal that would share Hoshi's bed tonight.

Sitting on the bed, Malcolm grabbed Hoshi's calf and shoe, prying the sandal from her foot. He did the same with the other. He placed the shoes under her bed so she wouldn't trip over them if she got up in the middle of the night.

Next, Malcolm tugged on Hoshi's skirt, cursing at it slid freely from her body. "If only you were conscious, luv." Folding the skirt neatly, he stood and walked to her closet, hanging it with care.

Walking back to the bed, he quickly pulled the sheet and comforter up her body. He had seen her in her skivvies before. Why should this be any different? Perhaps because these skivvies were black lace and not standard issue Starfleet blues.

"What color did she have on today?" he wondered silently, glancing quickly at her chest and half listening to the briefing…Augments…borderland…Klingons…Soong.

The meeting broke and Malcolm, followed closely by Hoshi, made his way to the turbolift. He nodded to her as they boarded, deciding it would be prudent not to mention his lapse of better judgment.

The silence stretched between them as the lift moved swiftly between decks. The door opened on B deck and Malcolm stepped out.

"Sir?" Hoshi spoke at last, stepping out before the doors could close on her.

"Yes, Ensign," he replied softly.

"I-I…wanted…t-to apologize for my behavior the other night," she stammered, feeling a blush burn her cheeks. This was way worse than the time he thought she was coming on to him. Enchiladas indeed!

He couldn't move he wanted to. It seemed as though his feet were glued to the deck plating and the surroundings dissolved around them. It was just them now. She wasn't drunk. "If anybody should apologize, Hoshi, it's me."

Unable to meet his eyes before, she looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"You were intoxicating…I mean intoxicated. I – I –"

"What?" Hoshi asked, still wondering what really went on that night.

Malcolm winced. God! No wonder he had no meaningful relationships his entire adulthood. If he talked, he sounded like a blithering idiot. If he didn't talk, women accused him of being emotionally unavailable. "Never mind, Hoshi."

He tried to walk away, but Hoshi grabbed his arm. "Wait a minute," she cried. "I – I need to know what happened."

Malcolm almost couldn't believe the desperation he heard in her voice. "What…what do you remember?"

Just then a crewman walked by and nodded to both senior officers.

Realizing they were in the middle of a corridor, he grabbed Hoshi's hand and pulled her into his quarters. He turned to her, his eyes lingering on her flushed cheeks. "What do you remember?"

"What do you remember?" Hoshi countered.

"I wasn't drunk." Malcolm smirked. "I remember everything."

Hoshi's eyes flashed. "I dare you to tell me what happened."

"Isn't that what got us in this mess to begin with?" he cautioned, letting a lustful tone sneak into his inflection.

Shivering as his voice decreased an octave, Hoshi crossed her arms over her chest. "You have the choice between truth or dares."

"So do you," he replied with a knowing smile, a devilish imp guiding his behavior. "I carried out the dare two nights ago. It's your turn to go. Truth or dare, Hoshi?"

"Truth," she whispered cautiously, needing to know how far things went the other night.

"Coward."

Hoshi shrugged her shoulders.

Wanting an answer to his previous ponderings, he teased, "I enjoyed the glimpse of your black lace knickers the other night. Are you wearing them now?"

She didn't think she could blush any more, but she did. She wasn't quite sure how to handle him now. Drawing conclusions was never her strong point, and she was still unsure as to whether they had been intimate. Surely she would remember sleeping with him.

"Well?" Malcolm prodded, knowing full well that he was probably digging his own burial plot. He couldn't help but torment her.

It was time to fight fire with fire. "I dare you to look for yourself," she purred seductively.

The uncertainty was gone, and his heart skipped a beat. "You didn't say truth or dare," Malcolm retorted, calling her bluff.

"Truth or dare?" replied Hoshi quickly.

Damn! She called his bluff. Truth was that he would like nothing more than to strip her and see what she was wearing underneath her blue top and shorts. His eyes raked up and down her body from head to toe, appreciatively lingering on her curves. "Truth," he whispered, caving in.

She jumped at the chance to know what happened the other night. "What happened the other night?"

Malcolm sobered, hearing the panicked tone in her voice. "I walked you home." He paused, not really sure if he should go into detail. "You passed out cold and I took liberty to undress you and put you in bed. Nothing else happened." Not that I didn't want it to.

"I didn't dare you to kiss me?"

"It's my turn. Truth or dare, Hoshi?"

Flustered beyond belief, Hoshi's mouth gaped.

"I'll take that as a truth again," Malcolm muttered.

Hoshi nodded in agreement. This was insane…total madness.

It was time for the truth. It was time to stop running. "Do you want me to kiss you?" he asked, holding his breathing and praying. The last time she kissed him, she was drunk. What if she didn't feel the same way? What if she had just experienced a momentary lapse of judgment? What if –

"Yes," Hoshi whispered.

Malcolm shook his head, disbelieving her reply. He made no move.

"Truth or dare, Malcolm?"

"D-dare," he stuttered.

"I dare you to kiss me," she said with a smile, stepping closer to him, bunching his brown shirt in her fist, and pulling him to her.

He pressed his lips to her cheek and smiled. "You didn't specify where you wanted me to kiss you."

Discarding the subterfuge, Hoshi pressed her lips to his, easily slipping past any resistance he may have thought he had. Her hands followed their original path and snaked under his shirt and around to his back.

Groaning, Malcolm cupped her buttocks and pulled her closer. He tore his lips from hers, trailing a wet path along her jaw and down her neck. He smiled as he heard his name gasped from her lips.

Pushing him away, Hoshi tugged his shirt over his head, stepped back, and peeled her shirt over her head.

Malcolm's breath caught at the sight of her breasts encased in a navy blue lace bra. "Definitely not regulation."

She giggled, reaching behind her to unhook the clasp.

"Stop," he pleaded, running his hands over hers. "Let me."

Kissing the swell of her breast, his fingers worked the clasp, tugging and pulling on the bra.

Hoshi kissed his shoulder, waiting.

He tugged and pulled…tugged and pulled. "Is this thing locked? If it is, do I have security clearance?"

Laughing harder and reaching behind her back, she smacked his hands away and unclasped the material. Holding the material to her chest, she slipped the straps off her shoulders one by one.

The com panel chirped. "Armory to Lieutenant Reed."

"Bloody fucking hell!" Malcolm yelled and walked over to the panel and pressed the button.

"Go ahead," he barked.

"Sir, you're needed in the armory, ASAP."

"I'm on my way." Malcolm cut the com and turned to Hoshi, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head. "We're not finished," he said, giving her a quick kiss and handing her back her shirt. He watched as she pulled her shirt back on, then left, drawing deep, steadying breaths.

TBC