Sorry - my beta for this was Kathy Rose.

I'm glad you like this so far. It was a difficult pairing to write, for me.

Thank you for the lovely reviews. Please keep 'em comin'!

x-x

Throughout his afternoon shift in the armoury, Malcolm found his thoughts continually drawn back to what had happened earlier. He wasn't sure how it had happened - after all, the night before, they'd been discussing girlfriends - he'd had no hint that Jon was gay, or that Jon thought of him in that way. He shook his head and started tinkering with the device he had in pieces on the table before him. Thank goodness he wasn't due on the bridge, he thought. He couldn't possibly face the man.

Deliberately, he tried to put the circumstances aside, but his mind kept wandering back. He was distracted - understandably, he thought. He stared at the device in front of him, then shook his head again. He felt a bit funny, actually. He paused for a moment, trying to refocus on the work at hand, then he picked up one of the pieces.

It was nice, actually, being noticed in that way.

He stopped in surprise, his hand in mid-move.

No, he thought forcefully. He was straight. Always had been. Never, ever before had he even considered...

"Too old for a change now," he said aloud, laughing nervously. Then he glanced around him to be sure no one was nearby. Grimacing, he set back to work.

x-x

Malcolm sat in his chair, staring off into the distance. This shift had been a struggle. He'd been able to finish his work on the device only through great effort, as his thoughts had kept going back to Jon. What Jon had said, what he'd proposed - it wasn't right, and it wasn't like him. Malcolm certainly wasn't interested, and yet...

And yet...

The more he thought about it - not that he could actually stop thinking about it - the more he realised that...

No, he thought forcefully. Absolutely not.

It would be so nice, though...

He sighed in frustration. All afternoon, he'd been unable to get the man out of his head: Jon's sad, tired eyes, the feel of Jon's hand against his chest.

Bloody hell, he thought, enough of this. He stood and left the armoury in a rush, heading for his cabin. He was hungry, but he was too distracted...he felt odd, disconnected. Anyway, he couldn't possibly bear the busyness of the mess. He'd try to get some sleep first, then see about some dinner.

x-x

Standing at his room's entrance, he triggered the door. It chirped, but didn't open. He frowned and tried again. Then a rush of realisation - these weren't his quarters. He'd somehow...how had he ended up here?

The door opened in front of him.

"Jon," he said, his heart pounding as the captain stood in the doorway.

A slow smile spread over Jon's face. "Malcolm," he responded.

Before Malcolm could stop himself - not even sure he wanted to - he reached out his hand towards Jon, and Jon clasped it. Fingers entwined with his, Jon pulled him into the room, and the door swished shut behind him.

Standing so close that he could feel the heat coming from the other man's body, Malcolm looked up onto Jon's eyes, amazed, entranced, enchanted. "I'm straight," Malcolm said breathlessly.

"I am, too," Jon whispered as he reached down and nuzzled Malcolm's neck with his lips.

Malcolm leaned his head to the side, allowing Jon better access. As Jon began tracing his tongue along the skin of his neck, leaving a trail of fire and ice, Malcolm closed his eyes, his breath coming faster. "So why are we doing this?" he asked in a soft voice.

"No idea," Jon said. "I just know that I want you."

"Why?" Malcolm asked, struggling to come to himself before he became completely lost in the moment, and in the man.

Jon didn't respond, but he did pull away slightly, and smiled gently. His lips were so close, so...Malcolm forced himself to step back, and pushed Jon away. "Why?" he asked. "Why are we feeling like this?" He took another step back, then another. The parting was almost painful. "This isn't like me," he said, trembling slightly with the effort of maintaining the separation. "I shouldn't be involved with my commanding officer, male or female."

Jon stepped forward, reaching for him. "It isn't like you either, approaching a subordinate in this way," Malcolm said. "Something's wrong."

Jon touched him, palm flat against his chest, and there was flame where Jon's hand rested. Jon began tracing his fingers across Malcolm's chest, his shoulder, his arm, trailing fire as he went. Malcolm shook his head, trying to clear it. "Something's wrong," he whispered just as Jon pulled him close, and they kissed.

Malcolm melted into the kiss, his eyes closing as he sank against Jon's body. It was...it was unbelievable, he thought, raising his hands and running them along Jon's back. Malcolm felt Jon's fingers in his hair, and Jon's tongue touched his, feather-soft. His breath caught. It was so good, it felt so right...His eyes flashed open, and he pushed Jon away with restrained force. "No," he said, turning away so that he couldn't see the man. "This is wrong," he said, panting slightly.

He heard a muffled thump and turned quickly. Jon had collapsed facedown on the floor. With a sudden intake of breath, he slapped the comm. beside the door, saying, "Medical emergency, Captain's quarters." He knelt beside Jon, rolling him over with shaky hands. He checked Jon's breathing - even and steady - then he turned Jon over gently and sat behind him, cradling Jon's head on his lap, combing his fingers through Jon's hair.

He knew Phlox would be here soon, and probably Trip as well, since the engineer had been working on some of the medical scanners in sickbay. But what could he do? He ran a gentle finger along Jon's cheekbone. Please, he thought. Please, let him be all right. He stared down at Jon's face, unable to take his eyes off the man, and waited.

Malcolm looked up as the door opened and Phlox arrived in a rush, Trip in tow. Trip cast an odd look in Malcolm's direction while Phlox knelt beside Jon and asked what had happened.

"He collapsed," Malcolm said. He glanced at Trip, then away. He couldn't tell the rest, especially not with Trip there.

Malcolm moved aside, but stayed close as Phlox began working, Trip helping. He kept catching himself, his hand moving, unbidden, reaching out to Jon as he lay on the floor.

He watched, holding his breath, as Phlox first checked Jon's condition, then turned to Trip and asked for the stretcher. God, he was shaking. Jon - he needed Jon to be all right.

Unable to help himself, Malcolm reached out and took Jon's hand.

x-x

Please let me know what you think so far.