A/N: This is set in the same universe as my stories 'Target Practice' and 'Run of the Ship', as it includes the recurring character of Crewman Angela ('Ela') Robertson, with whom Malcolm has a somewhat strange relationship with - in that he find her so irritating that he often wishes he could hit her round the head with a phase pistol (shooting her would be a waste of ammunition).

It's not necessary to have read those stories, there's only a brief reference, but it helps add to the shared history of the characters.

Anyway.. here's the story. Enjoy!

Warning for some bad language on Malcolm's part in this chapter.

Insomnia

Insomnia was becoming a rather regular and unwelcome occurrence for Malcolm. He would go to see Phlox, but, well, that sentence finishes itself. Malcolm growled in frustration and blinked at where he knew the ceiling to be in his pitch black quarters. It was no use trying to sleep, he was wide awake.

This was getting ridiculous. He'd tried everything he could think of. A walk, warm milk, relaxing music, a warm shower, reading something by one of the Bronte sisters . . .

Rolling over, face in his pillow, Malcolm tried to think of something else. He could always forgo sleep every alternate night, surely then he's be tired enough to be able to get to sleep. But then again falling asleep at his post would probably be frowned upon by the Captain, and would probably lead to a visit to the doctor. He cringed.

Maybe he was along the right lines though, tiring himself out, it could work. A trip to the gym every evening before he went to sleep, a long one mind you, not leaving before he felt dead on his feet. But that wouldn't solve the current problem.

Sighing, he heaved himself off his bed.

When Malcolm walked into the gym five minutes later his jaw almost hit the deck. This was getting bloody weird. He was beginning to think she was the cause of his insomnia. Whenever he went on one of his mid morning walks, wherever he ended up, there she was. It didn't matter where; the mess hall, the armoury, a random corridor, the gym! It was creepy for crying out loud!

"Sir?" Robertson exclaimed in surprise as she ceased beating the crap out of the punch bag.

"Crewman," Malcolm ground out and stalked over to the exercise bikes. She looked at him contemplatively for a minute, which unnerved him greatly so he tried to concentrate on something else, namely his breathing. His concentration was broken however when she spoke.

"Sir? I know it's none of my business . . . but you don't suffer from insomnia do you?" she asked and walked closer to him so she was within a metre. He frowned at her.

"You're right, it's none of your business," he paused. "But of late, yes, I have been," he added She walked over and sat on the neighbouring bike but swivelled round so she was facing him and sitting sideways on it.

"Been to see Phlox?" she asked innocently. He gave her a 'what do you think?' look and continued peddling. "I thought not," she said. "So . . . what have you tried?" He slowed down to a stop and turned to look at her. "Warm milk? Hot shower? Walk? Music? Boring book?" she asked.

"All of the above."

"Ah. What did you read?"

"Jane Eyre."

"And that didn't send you to sleep?" she asked incredulously. "But what am I thinking? This is the man who reads Ulysses for entertainment," she quipped.

"Ha ha."

"So you're going for the 'all out exhaustion' remedy are you?" she asked. He nodded. "Well if you were married, or had a significant other, then there's a solution that never fails . . ."

"How do you know I don't?" he said indignantly.

"Don't what?"

"Have a 'significant other'?"

"Commander Tucker would have spilled by now," she said matter-of-factly.

"True," he agreed.

"Anyway, apart from that, I find sparring tends to be the best way."

"Really?" he asked with interest, suddenly thankful for her presence.

"Yeah, seeing as you use practically all the muscles in your body," she continued. "Shall we?" she said, indicating the mat on the floor in the centre of the room.

"I don't see why not," he grinned. She rolled her eyes.

"Really Malcolm, you think you can get away with beating me up?" she asked him as they made their way towards the floor.

"No of course not," he said. "Doesn't stop me from knocking you on your arse a few times though," he smirked as he took his position.

"Likewise," she responded as they began circling each other.

Malcolm shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Every muscle in his body was screaming at him; loudly and persistently. His shoulder was what was causing him the most trouble, any movement he made with his arm caused bolts of pain to shoot up it. It was probably a result of when Robertson had twisted his arm up behind his back.

Not that he handed been able to hold his own, she was probably sporting a few bruises and aches and pains herself today, but she was a lot stronger than she looked.

He interlocked his hands behind him and stretched his arms, ignoring the angry protests his shoulder made and sighing in satisfaction as the tired muscles in his arms stretched and the bones in his back cracked.

"Lieutenant, what are you doing?" Hoshi asked curiously, frowning.

"Stretching," he commented distractedly as he pushed himself over to the console behind him, which turned out not to be the best of ideas. "Shit!" he cursed as he pulled his injured arm towards him. "Fuck," he breathed, gritting his teeth against what felt like jagged knives digging into his shoulder socket.

"Lieutenant?" he heard T'Pol's voice from the other side of the bridge. He didn't look at her at that moment because his eyes were clamped closed and he was focusing on keeping his breathing even.

"Sir?"

Malcolm looked up sharply to see Travis standing in front of his station and the rest of the bridge crew looking at him in concern.

"Pulled something," he ground out. "In my shoulder. It doesn't respond well to pressure, or any kind of movement really," he added with a shrug and subsequently a wince.

"Maybe you should go and see the doctor," Hoshi suggested. Malcolm cringed.

"It's not that bad," he protested.

"From your colourful use of language just now it would seem that it is," T'Pol said with a raised eyebrow.

"Fine," he capitulated. "Now?" he asked when they all looked at him expectantly. "Fine," he said with a sigh.

Malcolm dug through his mashed potatoes, fork in his good hand, his left currently strapped to his chest to prevent him from moving it too much. Phlox had given him some rather nice pain med.'s though, so he hadn't complained about it; yet.

He looked up as someone sat down at his table with a groan and scowled.

"Soo . . ." Robertson said as her eyes travelled over his arm, "Told anyone how it happened yet?" she asked. He rolled his eyes and ate another mouthful of mashed potato. "I don't blame you, if I were you I wouldn't want anyone to know I got my arse kicked by a girl."

"I did not get my arse kicked," he snapped. "I got my shoulder twisted. And I did some damage to you too," he defended.

"Damn straight you did. I could barely move when I got up. What I wouldn't give for a hot bath," she sighed wistfully.

"I'm with you there," he muttered.

"I'm sorry about your shoulder though," she said sincerely. "I think I might have got a little carried away."

"A little?" he grinned.

"Okay, maybe a lot," she admitted. "But it's not every day you get the opportunity to kick the crap out of your boss with no consequences."

"That's very true," he said, she smiled.

"Good, so no hard feelings then?"

"I didn't say that . . ."

"Yeah but it was implied."

"Implied how? When? I think I'd know if I'd implied anything of the sort," he argued.

"Children," a voice warned. They both looked at Trip as he sat down. "And there I was thinking I saw smiles over here a minute ago, I did think it was odd at tha' time."

"We were just discussing how Malcolm hurt his shoulder," Robertson said conversationally. Trip shot a curious glance at Malcolm.

"Oh really?"

"Mmmhmm," she nodded and took a sip of her drink. "Has he told you yet?" she asked.

"No, no I don't think he has," he said with an expectant smile, Malcolm groaned.

Please review and let me know what you thought. Thanks for reading.