CHAPTER 7

Hoshi ached all over.

Malcolm had been right. She wasn't used to being in a different body. He'd thrown her several times before she'd gotten the hang of using Jon's differences -- the height, the weight, the stronger shoulders and arms.

But once she had -- poor Malcolm! He was probably going to be just as black and blue as she was tomorrow.

Served him right, too. There was something about the smug expression he was wearing after the first few times he'd broken her hold and thrown her decisively to the mat that had made her want to wipe the floor with him. She almost had, too, and had been startled to realize that she'd had to restrain herself once she'd figured out how to most effectively use her newfound strength.

When Malcolm had realized that she was enjoying what she was doing, he hadn't held back. They'd been fairly evenly matched from there on out. Malcolm was smaller than the captain, but quicker and more agile. She had had to rely on the captain's superior strength and body mass to keep Malcolm from besting her.

Shifting under the blankets on her bunk, she sighed. She was bone-weary and should be having no trouble going to sleep. Yet she was afraid to. She didn't want to wake up in the morning to find she was still in the captain's body.

Jon was probably feeling the same way about being in her body. She smiled as she remembered their visit to his quarters before the workout.

They had agreed that, for the duration, they'd stick to Starfleet-standard issue including underwear and not use each other's civilian clothing except for sweat pants and shoes. Still, it had been a lot less embarrassing for her to accept his briefs and uniforms than it had been for him to take her items of clothing.

At least he had Porthos to comfort him. Somehow the dog had sensed the difference in them.

When they'd entered Jon's cabin, the beagle had run right to her and stopped, his ears cocked and his nose twitching furiously. Then he had sat down on his haunches, head tilted to one side as he gazed up in doggy confusion at the familiar face of the person who was supposed to be his master.

"Come here, boy," Jon had said in her voice and Porthos had trotted obediently over to him. After a few sniffs at Jon's boots, the dog's tail began to wag hesitantly. When Jon squatted down and petted him, the canine seemed to realize that this was his real master, no matter what his little eyes were showing him, and his tail had whipped back and forth in a frenzy of happiness. Porthos had licked the face, somehow knowing that underneath Hoshi's visage it was Jon inside.

Ah, well, Hoshi thought as she rolled over. Tomorrow they'd arrive at the Tellarite ship. Helping the ship in trouble was a distraction in more ways than one. It would keep her mind off her problem while at the same time delaying them in their investigation into making the switch back.

Hope for the best, she thought as she drifted off to sleep.

This is so definitely not best, she thought the next morning as she sat at her console on the bridge as they approached the Tellarite ship.

The day hadn't started out badly. She'd been pleasantly surprised to find Malcolm outside her cabin, hand poised to push to chime, when she'd opened her door to leave that morning. He'd stuttered something about not letting her run the gauntlet alone and she felt of rush of love for the man who obviously was having a harder time dealing with her predicament than she was.

She and Jon had agreed to arrive on the bridge together after sharing breakfast again in his private mess, so she had led Malcolm there. Jon had his own moral support present in the form of Trip, and the four of them sat down to breakfast together. Trip managed to hold himself to two bad jokes about out-of-body experiences before Jon threatened him with court-martial, but their bantering -- some of which was in her voice -- was a pleasant change from the strained conversations of yesterday.

Trip and Malcolm accompanied them to the bridge after breakfast. Safety in numbers, Hoshi thought wryly as she made her way over to her console. Even if someone was tempted to make a crack about her or the captain, the identical stern expressions on Malcolm and Trip's faces would have stopped them dead in their tracks.

A quick glance around the bridge showed no one else was paying her any attention, so she caught Travis' eye and stuck out her tongue at him. She was rewarded by seeing him trying not to laugh out loud.

"Yep. It's you," he mouthed at her and she bit back her own giggle just as her console beeped with an incoming message.

"Oh no," she said under her breath as she listened to the message. Loudly she said, "Captain! We're being hailed by another vessel on an approach to the Tellarite vessel. It's Shran."

From the captain's chair, Jon said, "Put it--" but stopped in mid-sentence.

He and Hoshi shared a long glance and both shook their heads. No way were they going to let Shran know what had happened. And if he did find out, well, neither of them wanted to give Shran another opportunity to make fun of humans.

"Perhaps, I should handle the communication and tell him that you are indisposed," T'Pol put in.

"Good idea," Jon said. "If Shran's not here to help the Tellarites, tell him to stay out of our way."

Hoshi thought that was a clever idea until Shran's response made things worse. He indicated he not only wanted to assist Enterprise in helping the Tellarites, but he wanted to see Captain Archer as well.

"Tell him we'll arrange that after we take care of the Tellarites," Jon said in a whisper to T'Pol.

T'Pol raised an eyebrow but relayed the message, telling Shran the captain would contact him later to arrange the meeting.

"You didn't have to do that!" Jon said after the connection was cut.

Unperturbed, T'Pol said, "It would be better for you to have the initiative in arranging a meeting that is unavoidable than to allow Shran that advantage. I would suggest you invite him here."

"You mean on board Enterprise?" Jon asked.

T'Pol nodded.

Jon grunted, a strange sound to hear coming from what should have been her own throat, Hoshi thought, and then he turned his gaze to her. She felt her stomach clench. He had said they weren't going to act like each other any more. Please, please, please, don't let him get any wild ideas about her being alone with Shran looking like him, she prayed fervently.

But Jon didn't say anything more, and the rest of the morning was spent assisting the Tellarite ship. To keep from getting in each other's way, Enterprise sent a detail over to work on the engine while the Andorian ship sidled up to the Tellarite ship, setting up a connection to provide power to the crippled vessel.

The Tellarite engine room was a mess, Trip reported after an initial assessment of the situation.

"Biggest problem is they don't seem to do very much maintenance," he reported from the alien engine room. "A few of their auxiliary systems also got fried when the main power source started fluctuatin', and everything's gonna have to be taken out, checked and possibly replaced."

According to Trip, the Tellarite engine wasn't very complex and would only take about a day to fix. Hoshi greeted this information with a sigh of relief. She'd been trying to work on the translations while manning the communications console but the constant interruptions of reports and messages between the two ships kept getting in the way.

Finally, she asked the captain for permission to leave the bridge and work in her cabin.

"Want to take a lunch break first?" he asked, and Hoshi detected a hint of uneasiness on the captain's borrowed face. Apparently he didn't want to be alone with the rest of the crew, either.

"Sure, sir," she said, and signaled for a relief to take her place.

Jon turned the bridge over to Malcolm and then he and Hoshi left, both of them relaxing as the bridge was put behind them.

They had just taken their seats in the captain's mess when T'Pol paged Jon. He went to lean back in his chair to use the comm panel behind him, but realized he couldn't reach it with his current shorter arm span. With a disgusted grimace, he got up and stood by the panel.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Shran is very insistent about seeing you. He is inviting you to come aboard his ship."

"I thought you told him I'd contact him."

"I did," T'Pol's serene voice came back. "Apparently, he has very little patience."

Hoshi watched apprehensively as a series of emotions crossed the captain's face. The final one was resignation. She hadn't realized her face was so easy to read and made a note to work on her poker face when she got back in her proper body.

"May as well get this over with," Jon said. "Tell him to come over here. Have him escorted to the captain's mess."

As the comm clicked off, Hoshi asked, "Sir?"

"Let's face it, Hoshi," Jon said. "There's no way we're going to get around not letting Shran know about what's happened to us."

"We could try to fool him--"

"No. That would just be more embarrassing if Shran figures it out on his own. ... We'll wait until he arrives, then we'll share a meal together and discuss this like civilized beings."