Title: Thursdays's Child

Author: Sita Z

Rating: T

AN: Thank you for reviewing Chapter 2!

Firebirdgirl (thanks for the e-mail :-)! You're right about Trip's skills coming in handy...), bunsdarien (the "begging motion" must work, here's the next chapter ;-) ), Rinne (thank you!), Gabi (tja, hier war mal wieder die absolute Planung am Werk... aber diesmal hab ich's nicht vergessen!), The One Forgotten (glad you like it, I'll be looking forward to your reviews!), JadziaKathryn (it does make a nice picture, doesn't it ;-)?), Cha Oseye Tempest Thrain (good point, I didn't think of that), The Libran Iniquity (there -is- always a next time, that's right... I might actually write Slash one day :P! Aber nicht in dieser Geschichte, das stimmt), Virgo (thank you! the thing about Sev (a.k.a. Trip ;-)?) will be explained in more detail later on...), JennMel (thank you... I loved writing the kids ;-) ), Exploded Pen ("kindergarten" does sound funny ;-); I like it since it's one of the few words English borrowed from German), Luna (your review left me with a big, happy smile on my face :-)... thank you!), stage manager (here goes ;-)!), dani-lyn (thank you! )

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Chapter 3

"Daddy, guess what, guess what!"

Malcolm woke to the sound of a thud followed by an excited voice, and at first he had no idea what was going on. A moment later he realized that the voice belonged to Sammy, who seemed to be no longer tired and cranky, but very much awake.

"Come on, Daddy, wake up!"

Still somewhat disoriented, Malcolm rolled over and saw that the first rays of morning sunshine were only just beginning to fill the room with a dim light. Looking over at the couch, he saw Sammy sitting on his father's chest and surmised that the thud he had heard had been the sound of Sammy landing on top of Sev.

"Wake up, Daddy!"

Sev blinked, and a moment later gasped for air when Sammy started to hop up and down on top of him.

"Daddy, guess what, we're sleeping in a bed, a real one, and next door there's a bathtub and I found a book in the cupboard with lots of pictures in it, can I keep it, Daddy?"

"Hey, slow down, pumpkin." Sev caught his son around the waist and lifted him off his chest. "And turn down the volume, we don't want to-"

"Are we going to stay here, Daddy?" Sammy seemed enthusiastic at the idea, continuing to bounce up and down. "Is this where we live now?"

Sara looked up from the magazine she'd been looking at. "This is a hotel," she told her little brother, and Malcolm half expected her to raise an eyebrow at him. "We're only staying here over night."

"It's not night, it's morning," Sammy said decidedly. Sev interfered before the argument could escalate.

"What are you looking at, honey?" he asked, and Sara held up her magazine. Malcolm squinted, but he couldn't make out the picture on the cover.

"It's a book about food," Sarah said. "Like the one Miss Elin had, but the pictures are better. I think it tells you how to cook things. Do you think anyone minds if I keep it? We can share it," she added quickly when Sammy opened his mouth to protest.

In a way, Malcolm felt reluctant to give up pretending that he was still asleep - on their own, Sev and Sara seemed a lot more at ease than he had ever seen them, and Malcolm regretted to spoil their mood. Still, it was just as well that Sammy had woken them so early; it was going to be a long day, and the sooner they got on their way the better.

"Good morning," he said, and three heads turned around to look at him. Sara and her father froze immediately, apparently expecting a rebuke of some sort. Only Sammy kept smiling, still bouncing on the bed whose springs were beginning to creak with the strain.

"Hello," he said, and Malcolm smiled at the boy.

"Good morning, sir," Sev added carefully. "Did we wake you up?"

"That's alright," Malcolm said, in a deliberately off hand tone. "I had to get up anyway."

He noticed Sev and Sara relax somewhat, and sighed inwardly. He was fooling himself, thinking that last night's conversation had eased the situation between them in any way. Sev might think of him as a kind, somewhat strange man, but there was no doubt that he couldn't really bring himself to trust him. Remembering the awkward misunderstanding caused by his decision to have Sev and his children sleep in his room, Malcolm realized that his behavior - his friendliness, his strange questions - must have struck Sev as odd, and therefore would have aroused his suspicion. He knew that his children - and he himself - were at Malcolm's mercy, and if his new master suddenly changed his mind, then there was nothing he could do. That was the point - there was absolutely nothing he could do to protect his children. Malcolm could understand very well why Sev was keeping his distance. All the more, he found himself wishing that they were back on Enterprise where this whole unpleasant masquerade could end.

"How about you and the children use the bathroom first?" Malcolm suggested, wincing at his overly hearty tone. "I'll only take a quick shower, and then we can go and see if we can find us some breakfast."

Sev only stared at him. Surprised, Sara looked up at her father.

"We get to use the bathroom, Daddy?"

Damn. Malcolm bit his lip. Another mistake. But it was too late to take it back.

"Sure you do." Going against all his ideas of an officer's dignity, Malcolm pulled a face at Sammy and whispered conspiratorially: "We don't want you smelling like piggies, do we?"

The little boy didn't disappoint him, giggling and raising his hands to his mouth. The momentary tension was broken, and Malcolm breathed an inward sigh of relief.

Sev had been watching the exchange in silence, and when he caught Malcolm's eyes, the look on his face had changed from wariness into... something else. Malcolm wasn't sure what to make of it, but part of him felt that his brief interaction with Sammy had had more of an effect than all of his earlier rhetoric.

"What's a piggy, Daddy?" Sammy asked his father on the way to the bathroom, and Malcolm was sure that he saw Sev smile in response.

Fifteen minutes later they were back, the children wrapped in two of the hotel's towels and looking like two little ghosts with brown faces. Sev brought up the rear, carrying the children's folded-up clothes. His hair was still damp from the shower.

"Watch me, Daddy!" Sammy, who seemed to be excited to the point of bouncing off the walls, threw away his towel and jumped onto the couch, beginning to hop up and down. Again, Malcolm noticed how painfully thin the little boy was. His ribs stood out starkly, and the places that were usually covered by his clothes were of a noticeably lighter shade of brown than the rest of his skin.

"Sammy, don't!" Too busy to notice Malcolm's look, Sev caught his son around the waist before he could do any more damage to the bed springs. "No jumping on the bed, okay, partner?"

Sammy squirmed to escape his grip, and a moment later squealed with delight when his father grabbed him by the ankles and held him upside down. When he became aware of Malcolm's surprised look, Sev shrugged apologetically.

"It usually calms him down."

Malcolm didn't know whether or not it was on purpose that this time, Sev didn't tag the "sir" to his answer, but found that he liked it a lot better that way. He grinned, and for a moment all tension disappeared from the other man's eyes. Then Sammy squealed again, and carefully, Sev lowered him onto the couch and wrapped him in his towel. The brief change of perspective did seem to have a calming effect on the little boy; mimicking his sister's actions, he used the towel to dry his hair and pulled his ragged shirt over his head. Then he grinned triumphantly in Malcolm's direction.

"Now you're the only one who smells like a piggy!"

Both Sara and her father froze, but Malcolm couldn't help grinning. "That's right, and it's time I did something about it."

Heading towards the bathroom, he heard Sammy's voice: "But Daddy, he said so himself!"

Malcolm made sure that the bathroom door was closed before he burst out laughing.

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It was still early in the morning when they went downstairs, and the hotel's small dining room was deserted except for an elderly Kareedian couple seated in the corner next to the window. They both looked up when Malcolm entered with Sev and the children in tow, and it was clear that they did not approve of the company. In a low voice, the man said something to the woman who looked the children up and down and wrinkled her nose. Malcolm bit his lip and hoped that Sev hadn't noticed.

Sammy and Sara, of course, were far too excited to notice any of the disapproval radiating from the elderly couple. They looked around the room with wide eyes, and Malcolm saw Sara take her father's hand.

"Sir..."

Malcolm turned around to meet the eyes of a young Kareedian who, judging from his waiter's attire, was the one responsible for the hotel's restaurant.

"Can I help you, sir?"

Malcolm nodded. "Could you bring us the menu, please?"

Uncertainly, the man looked at Sev and his children. "Sir..."

"Is there a problem?" Malcolm used his best "polite-yet-dangerous" tone (which, according to his colleagues, would work even on a Klingon), and the man seemed to crumple under his stare.

"No, sir. No problem at all." He gestured at a table on his right. "Please, take a seat. I'll be with you in a minute."

The children looked at their father, and Sev, in turn, glanced at Malcolm. "Sir, are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked quietly. "I don't think they want us in here. Me and the children, I mean."

"I don't care what they do or do not want," Malcolm said sharply. "The children are hungry, and they need breakfast. If anyone has a problem with that, then they can bloody well walk right out of here."

He had spoken loud enough for the couple to hear him, and the looks they shot him in response could hardly be called civilized. Well, life's tough, guys. Get a helmet.

They sat down, Malcolm with his back to the couple who were still muttering among themselves. Sara and Sammy perched on their chairs, admiring the cheap table decoration and gaping openly when the waiter returned with the menus. Rather than handing them out, the young man simply left them on the table and hurried over to the elderly man, who was signaling impatiently.

Malcolm handed one of the menus to Sev who looked rather uncomfortable, but took it after a moment's hesitation. "Thank you, sir."

Sara looked up at her father. "But, Daddy-"

"Shh, honey," Sev said, and for some reason blushed slightly. "That's okay."

There was something final to his statement, and Sara seemed to understand, her eyes resting on him for a moment before she looked away. Malcolm had no idea what this was all about, but at the moment he had other problems to deal with. He could, of course, use the UT to read the menu, but the names of the meals still didn't make a lot of sense to him. And no matter what people said about British eating habits, "pickled ice rock" didn't sound like something he would enjoy for breakfast. At the Senator's house, he had eaten with the rest of the security staff, and their meals had consisted mainly some highly nutritious grub that tasted of nothing. Malcolm had no idea what normal Kareedian food tasted like, but compared to the stuff at V'Lin's place it could only get better.

"I think I need a little help here," he admitted finally, tucking away the UT after a final useless attempt to decipher its translations. "Is there anything on this menu I can eat without regretting it for the rest of the week?"

His joke fell flat, but then, he hadn't expected anyone to laugh. Sev stared down at the menu in front of him, and Malcolm saw him chewing his lower lip almost frantically.

"Um... you could always try the... st'vin soup?" It came out more like a question than an answer. "It's what most people have for breakfast."

Malcolm pulled out the UT again, and sure enough, one of the first items mentioned on the menu was st'vin. Checking the ingredients, however, Malcolm realized that he'd better keep away from that particular dish if he didn't want to end up wheezing and gagging all over the place.

"Sounds good, but I'm afraid I'm allergic to most fruits." He checked the menu again. "Do they have anything that doesn't contain fruit acid?"

Sev looked back down at the menu and Malcolm saw that the blush had returned, this time spreading all over his face and engulfing his ears. And suddenly he realized what was going on.

"You can't read, can you?" he asked quietly, and Sev shook his head, still not meeting his eyes.

"Only a little." He spoke so softly that Malcolm had to strain his ears to understand him. "What I taught myself. But..."

He trailed off, but Malcolm could guess what he had been about to say. Sev had taught himself how to read a little, but it wasn't enough to read complicated things like the names of the meals. Seeing how embarrassed the man was, Malcolm was careful not to let any of his feelings show. When Sev read pity in his eyes, it would wound his pride even deeper.

"Well," he said, his own voice sounding a little too cheerful in his ears, "how about we work together? I read out the names to you, and you tell me what the hell "pickled ice rock" is supposed to be."

After some thorough research and a few surprises on Malcolm's part (the pickled rock turned out to be the Kareedian equivalent of pancakes), everyone had their breakfast standing in front of them, and Sammy was so excited at having his food brought to the table for him that he almost forgot to eat any of it. Sev automatically grabbed whatever glass or mug the little boy was knocking over in his enthusiasm, but other than that he kept his eyes on his plate, never looking at Malcolm as he ate. Several times, Malcolm opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again. Truth was, he had no idea what to say. "Hey, I'm sorry you can't read, want to tell me about it?" sounded stupid even to his own ears. Still, he wondered what kind of life the man sitting across from him had led. Back on Earth, things had returned to normal - relatively speaking, of course - about thirty years ago, and illiteracy wasn't one of the problems that mankind had to deal with today. As a boy, Malcolm had attended the reopened schools together with all the other kids of his generation, and read both Vulcan and several of the remaining Earth languages fluently. He had never before met an adult of his age who couldn't read. Then again, Malcolm had never met one of the Lost Ones, either.

They finished their breakfast in silence, and Malcolm decided not to mention Sev's illiteracy again, unless the other man brought the topic up himself. Sev was far from stupid, and maybe that made it even harder for him to accept that he lacked such a fundamental skill. Malcolm guessed there were many slaves on Kareedia who couldn't read, but not many who felt ashamed about it.

When the last piece of "pickled rock" was gone and the children had polished the crumbs off their plates, Malcolm decided that it was time to go. Sammy made a grab for the centerpiece decoration, but after a stern look from his father he meekly put it back on the table. The elderly man next to the window shook his head, and his wife muttered something in an unfriendly tone of voice.

Ignoring them, Malcolm led his small group out into the reception hall where he'd left his bag. The receptionist took his key card without so much as a look, pushing the bill towards him which Malcolm signed with the name he had adopted for his brief interlude at the Senator's house. His bodyguard persona had a bank account somewhere in the city, and there was more than enough money to pay for bed and breakfast.

"Are we going to fly in the flitter again?" Sammy asked as they left the hotel. He didn't seem as enthusiastic at the idea as he had before, and Malcolm found himself sympathizing with the little boy. His own back was still aching from his driving marathon of the previous day.

"Only for a short while," he said as he opened the hatch for them to climb inside. "But first we're going to have to talk about what we do next."

"Sir?" Sev threw him a questioning look.

Malcolm closed the hatch behind himself. "Well, I told you it's quite a long walk to the meeting point. We'd be alright between the two of us, but there's no way the children can manage the distance in less than three or four hours."

Sev waited for him to continue.

"I think it might be best if I take you and the children as close to the meeting point as possible, then turn around and bring the flitter back. You're going to have to wait there for a while, but I believe it's a better idea than having the children walk all the way."

Malcolm watched Sev's face, hoping the man understood what Malcolm was trying to tell him. He was well aware of the fact that he was giving Sev a chance to run away, if the man decided to do so. Of course, escaping with two small children in tow was foolishness, but Malcolm wanted Sev to understand that he was free to choose. And if Sev decided that this was his homeworld, the place he was used to and where he wanted to stay, then Malcolm wasn't going to force him to leave.

Sev answered his look, then slowly nodded his head. "I understand, sir."

"Good." Malcolm turned to the navigation controls and watched the man's face in the rearview mirror. I hope you do.

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Twenty minutes later they arrived at the edge of the forest where Malcolm and Archer had agreed to meet. Malcolm wished he could have left the flitter where it was and set off for the meeting point right away, but he knew his orders. No traces, the Vulcans had been very clear on that point. And leaving his rented aircar out here for anyone to find would certainly arouse suspicion.

The children bolted out of the flitter as soon as he had opened the hatch, and Malcolm smiled at their excitement. Even Sara seemed to have forgotten about her anxiety and chased her brother around the flitter in a wild game of tag. Sammy squealed and hid behind his father's legs.

"Can we stay here, please, Daddy?" Sara came to a halt, only slightly out of breath. "Just a little longer?"

Malcolm smiled. "Actually, you're going to have to stay here and wait for me. I'll be back in about two hours."

Her face lit up, and Malcolm realized that their enforced stay in the woods was probably the closest thing to an outing these children had ever been on. Somehow, "working on the farm" didn't sound like it included much spare time for playing.

He looked at Sev. "You alright with that?"

"Yes sir." The man met his gaze. "We'll be right here waiting for you."

For a moment their eyes locked, and Malcolm didn't really know what to make of the intensity he read on the other man's face.

"Good," he said. "I'll try to be back as soon as I can."

He climbed back into the flitter and closed the hatch. Briefly, he considered leaving his bag with Sev so he wouldn't have to carry it all the way back to the forest, but then decided against it. Of course, the microchips with the information he had gathered were safely stored away in the soles of his boots; the bag only contained his clothes and a few personal items. Still, he had strict orders not to leave anything behind, and Malcolm wasn't going to take any chances. He had no way of knowing if his bag - and Sev - would still be there when he returned.

Malcolm sighed, and involuntarily increased the flitter's speed, wondering if he was doing the right thing.

TBC...

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