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Note: Written for a challenge by Lt. Black Fire, as follows: - Malcolm gets hypnotised - Doctor Phlox behaves oddly - Someone gets beaten up - Someone screams - T'Pol drinks tea - Trip does not want to let go of Malcolm

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Trip rounded the corner in the hallway, then stood before the first door. He took a deep breath and sighed, rubbing his fingers across his eyes; this was where Malcolm should be, at least according to Hoshi. He knocked, and the pressure of his hand against the door pushed the door open slightly, so he poked his head through, trying to see in the dim light. "Malcolm?" he said softly. When he received no response, he opened the door all the way and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

The curtains on the only window were parted slightly, letting in a crack of light, which illuminated the scene: Malcolm, alone, face down and sprawled across the bed, a sheet casually draped across him, his clothes crumpled on the floor next to two half-empty glasses and several bottles of dark green liquid in various states of fullness. His hair was a complete mess, and he was snoring loudly.

Trip leaned back against the door as he took in the state of his friend, and he sighed. Pushing away, he approached the bed and squatted beside Malcolm, nudging him gently and saying, "Hey?"

Malcolm rolled away from his hand with a muffled, "Sod off. Sleeping."

Trip sighed again and sat next to Malcolm on the bed, reaching out and rubbing his back gently. "Come on, Lieutenant. We've got to go."

Malcolm rolled over slowly and blinked up at him through blood-shot eyes. "Go where?" he asked, his words slurred.

"Back to the ship." Trip quickly looked Malcolm over, trying to determine his condition. "Get you checked out." Trip could tell that his friend was trying to make sense of the situation, and failing. "You okay?" he asked.

Malcolm nodded. "I'll be grand in a minute," he said, trying to sit. "I feel..." his voice trailed off and he slumped back onto the bed. "Woah." He closed his eyes, taking harsh breaths. "Bloody hell," he said quietly, rolling onto his side and dragging the sheet with him, revealing two small wounds, still weeping blood, on his neck. "Room's spinny. I need a moment."

Trip leaned forward, peering at his friend's neck. "Jesus. What did she do to you?"

Malcolm glanced at Trip through barely opened eyes. "What do you mean?"

"There, on your neck?"

Malcolm rubbed one hand across the wounds, his fingers coming away bloody. Staring down at them, he blushed slightly. "Oh, that," he said. "Right." Then he sighed and closed his eyes again. "That was especially nice."

Trip shook his head. "We don't have much time." He bent down and began to gather Malcolm's clothes. "Let's get you dressed."

Placing Malcolm's clothes in a pile next to his friend, Trip leaned back and watched as Malcolm laid there, eyes closed. "Come on."

"I'm sorry. I'm just...I don't know what's wrong with me. I..."

"I think she drugged you."

Malcolm opened his eyes, his confusion clear.

Trip continued, "The woman from last night."

Malcolm rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Right," he drew out slowly. "The drink at the bar."

Trip nodded and helped Malcolm sit up, then tossed his friend a shirt from the pile of clothes on the bed. As Malcolm struggled to pull it over his head, he giggled. "Sorry," he muttered from inside the shirt, and Trip reached over and helped him pull his head through, his hair standing on end. Malcolm smiled and said, "Still a bit drunk, I think," as he pushed his arms through the sleeves.

Trip, worried, brushed Malcolm's hair back and stared into his friend's grey eyes. Malcolm's eyes still weren't quite right. "You still seem a little blitzed."

Malcolm smiled. "Yeah. In a way, it's a nice feeling, though. Sloshed and sleazy." He giggled again, then looked carefully at Trip. "What happened there?" he asked, reaching out and brushing a gentle finger along Trip's jaw.

Trip flinched away, seeing a flash of hurt in Malcolm's eyes as he let his hand fall back to the bed. "You punched me," Trip replied.

Malcolm looked surprised. "I did?"

Trip nodded.

"Sorry," Malcolm said sheepishly. "That was bad form." Then he smiled. "I'm truly sorry." He looked down at the pile of clothes and pulled out a sock, laughing as he struggled to pull it on.

Trip took the sock from him. "Here, let me," he said.

Malcolm nodded and leaned against headboard as Trip silently put one sock on, then the other. As Trip reached into the pile and pulled out some trousers, Malcolm asked, "Are you all right?"

Trip paused in his work and looked at his friend for a moment. Then he said, "All this is so unlike you"
Malcolm smiled. "Yes, I suppose it is," he said, still slurring a bit. He shrugged. "I could say it was the drink, or the drug that she gave me."

"It wasn't?"

Malcolm nodded. "It was in part. I'm sure the drug had a lot to do with it. But the rest was...afternoons and coffee spoons."

Trip wrinkled his brow, puzzled.

Malcolm leaned forward. "Ever read T.S. Eliot?" At Trip's headshake, he continued. "You always think that there'll be time enough, later, to act. Always so caught up, scared, thinking, do I dare? You could end up waiting your whole life, you know? Measuring out your life with coffee spoons."

"Coffee spoons?"

Malcolm nodded and mimed laying out spoons, one after another, on the bed. "As days pass." He smiled at Trip, mimicking his accent. "After all, life's what happens while you're making other plans."

Trip laughed. "Time to shit or get off the pot, hunh?"

"Nicely put." Malcolm reached for his trousers, and pulled them up his legs. He stood, wobbling slightly as he tried to fasten them, and steadied himself with a hand on Trip's shoulder.

When Malcolm was balanced, Trip stood and grabbed Malcolm's shoes, coat and other things. "Ready?"

Malcolm reached down and grasped two still-full bottles, then straightened, smiling at Trip. "How do I look?"

Trip took in Malcolm's half-dressed state, bleary eyes, and hair standing on end. "You look like you've been thoroughly fucked."

Malcolm shook his head. "Brilliant," he said sarcastically, and Trip gave him an evil smile.

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