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Trip entered the Armoury and glanced around. The man was nowhere to be seen. He took a few steps inside Mal's spotless domain, and Ensign Müller immediately turned away from his job and came to meet him.

"Commander," he said. "How may I help you?"

Trip scratched his neck and grinned. "Any explosions in the Armoury this morning, Ensign?" he asked with a mischievous look.

Müller was too much Malcolm's SIC to betray his feelings, but Trip thought he saw a flash of amusement cross his eyes as he replied matter-of-factly, "Are you referring to Lieutenant Reed, Commander?"

Trip decided the question was perfunctory and didn't need an answer or comment. "Where is he?" he instead enquired.

"The Lieutenant is doing maintenance to the starboard phase cannon," Müller said, his eyes shifting to the access hatch laying against the bulkhead a few metres away. "We… haven't seen much of him, actually."

"I see," Trip said pensively. Mal ran into hiding. "Think it's safe to dig him out?" he asked smiling and raising his eyebrows.

"Well, Sir…" Müller faltered.

Trip realised the man didn't feel comfortable joking about his CO, so he hastened to add, "Sorry, you don't have to answer that, Ensign." He patted Müller playfully on the shoulder. "Go back to your weapons systems, I'll find out on my own."

Malcolm's SIC nodded and made to leave; but then with a hesitant smirk turned and said, "At least he's not armed, Commander."

Trip chuckled and gave him the thumbs-up. He walked to the open hatch and peeked inside the cannon's housing. Malcolm's compact form was crouched near the weapon, busy checking something.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Trip greeted him cheerfully as he climbed down the few rungs to join him. "Still awake?"

Malcolm half turned to acknowledge him, muttering an indistinct sound. Then he turned back to his work. In the restricted space the air was warm and stale, and as he got closer Trip became aware of just how dishevelled and sweaty Malcolm was.

"Gee, Malcom! I think I'm gonna borrow some of T'Pol's nasal numbin' agent," he joked.

Malcolm scowled at him. "If you have come to pe-- pester me, I suggest you keep at a safe distance. I'm not in the m-- mood, right now," he grunted.

Trip's smile quickly disappeared from his face. "You still hiccuppin'?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes," Malcolm growled back, "I still 'hiccuppin'."

Trip studied the cursing bundle of nerves crouched before him and made a fast mental calculation.

"It's been – what – more than four hours," he said.

"Four hours, an odd bunch minutes and an -- even bunch of seconds," Malcolm testily answered over his shoulder. He stood up and turned to face him. "Have you co-- come for a specific reason? Because if you are h-- here only to have a bit of fun behind my back I strongly ad-- advise you to change your plans," he said confrontationally.

Trip paused and looked at him without blinking. He had come to tease his friend, but now all that was forgotten.

"Come on," he replied, grabbing Reed by an arm. "I'm takin' you to sickbay."

Malcolm pulled back with a snort. "I'm not going to sickbay for a bleeding hiccup," he said with conviction. "Don't even th-- think of it." He dropped down on his haunches again and resumed working.

Trip huffed in frustration. "I'll make it an order if I have to, Lieutenant," he threatened.

Malcolm immediately bounced back up, and Trip found himself looking straight into the incensed blue-grey eyes of a pissed-off Armoury Officer.

"You wouldn't dare," said Officer ground out in his darkest voice.

"I would too," Trip answered unwaveringly.

They scowled at each other for a long moment, but then another strangled gasping sound escaped from Reed's throat and Trip found it impossible to keep a straight face: mad and hiccupping just didn't blend well on Malcolm's face – well, on anyone's face. Trip's mouth twitched into a grin and he saw his friend's eyes track down to it. Malcolm's own facial muscles contracted in the effort to keep serious. They both snorted.

"Come on," Trip said in a soothing voice. "Let Phlox take a look at you."

Malcolm shook his head. "Look, I appreciate your concern, but there is pre--ciously little the Doctor can do. The hiccup is an involuntary spa-- spasm of the diaphragm. I just have to be patient and wait, and it will go away on its own," he replied flatly.

"But you don't know what Phlox could do," Trip insisted. "Maybe Denobulans have found a remedy for it."

"For all we know Denobulans don't even have a diaphragm," Malcolm retorted, crouching again to tend to his job. "As for what Phlox mi-- might do, I really don't want to find out," he added meaningfully.

"Damn, but you're stubborn!" Trip exploded.

Malcolm shot the engineer a frustrated look. "Bloody hell! What is a poor bloke t-- to do to be able to work in peace?" he snapped back.

Their bickering was interrupted by someone clearing his throat. They both turned to the open hatch, and saw it was framing Müller's upper body.

"Lieutenant, Captain Archer is paging you," he said.

"Oh, damn." Malcolm cursed under his breath and got up. "Thank you, Ensign," he told his SIC as he made for the ladder to exit the cannon housing. "I sup--pose the Captain will want me to report back to the bridge," he murmured to Trip who was following him.

As soon as he was back in the Armoury Malcolm crossed to the nearest comm. link.

"Reed."

"Lieutenant, have you finished realigning the targeting scanners?" Archer's voice sounded more curious than anything else.

"Aye, Sir," Malcolm replied.

"Then what is detaining you?"

"I got sidetracked doing main-- maintenance on the starboard cannon, Sir," Malcolm replied, hoping the hiccup had not carried too clearly through the comm. link. There was a small pause.

"Malcolm… are you still hiccupping?" Archer's asked, clearly surprised.

No such luck, of course. Reed grimaced. "It's nothing, Cap--tain, it will pass," he answered, dreading what he knew would be coming.

"I'm quite sure it will," Archer said. "But in the meantime please report to sickbay, Lieutenant," he added in a deceivingly mellifluous tone.

"S-- Sir," Malcolm began to protest.

"That's an order, Lieutenant," Archer cut in resolutely.

"Aye, Sir. Reed out."

Malcolm turned to Trip, who was looking on with, to his credit, understanding in his blue eyes. "Feel like walking with -- me to sickbay?" he asked with a sigh. "I could use the company."

"A hiccup is an involuntary spasm of the diaphragm, Lieutenant," Phlox said. "The sudden rush of air into the lungs causes the glottis to close, creating the hic noise," he went on to explain as he passed his tricorder over Reed.

Malcolm exchanged a 'lecture-time' glance with Trip.

"A bout of hiccups generally resolves by itself," the Doctor said, and Reed's expression changed to one of 'I-told-you-so'.

"It's uncommon for it to last more than a few minutes," Phlox continued thoughtfully, studying his readings. "Although I think I read somewhere that someone on Earth hiccupped uninterruptedly for as long as 68 years," he added with a chuckle.

Reed winced and groaned. Trip's eyes went wide. "Are you serious?" he asked in disbelief.

"Oh, not to worry," Phlox cheerfully added. "I am quite certain Lieutenant Reed is not likely to challenge that poor fellow's record."

In the silence that fell, Malcolm's regularly-spaced gasps sounded even louder.

"Hmm," the doctor said after a moment. "You are in perfect health, Mr. Reed. Any idea of what might have triggered the attack?"

Malcolm lowered his gaze to the floor. "I ate… a bit too fast this morning," he mumbled.

Trip chuckled. "Late for breakfast, uh?" he teased.

"I ov-- overslept and gulped down a couple of biscuits left over from the -- night before," Malcolm explained, and his dejected tone made Trip immediately regret his ribbing.

"Doc, can't you do anythin' to make it pass?" the engineer asked. "It's been more than five hours now."

"Let's try an anti-spasmodic," Phlox said, and he disappeared in search of the right hypospray.

Trip studied the slumping form sitting on the biobed in front of him. "Told you Phlox would have somethin' for you," he offered with a comforting smile.

Malcolm sighed. "Yes, well, thank God that 'someth-- thing' is not alive."

"Here," the Denobulan said, emptying the anti-spasmodic into Malcolm's neck. "In the meantime, feel free to try also some of the many home remedies, Lieutenant," he added, chuckling. "You know, holding your breath, drinking upside-down…"

Reed grunted.

"Well, if the hiccup persists we can try sedatives," Phlox said. "But effective treatment often requires a dose that either renders the person unconscious or highly lethargic, so I'd rather wait a little while longer before resorting to that."

Reed cringed. That's all he needed, being knocked unconscious for a bloody hiccup. "Thanks but no than-- anks," he said resolutely, hopping off the biobed. "I'm sure that stuff you gave me will do the tr-- trick." He strutted towards the doors with Tucker in tow. "Thank you, Doctor," he called over his shoulder, reaching for the command to trigger them open.

"If it doesn't pass, come back to see me," Phlox shouted back as the doors were closing again.

TBC