Chapter 2.
A shorter chapter, in which the crew see the results of Kelly's photographic expertise.
A bit of T/R slash – nothing heavy. Any reviews would be greatly appreciated.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything, I own nothing except for a few OCs, and I'm not getting paid for this.
Trip had finished his shift in engineering and decided he'd go to find Malcolm and persuade him to have some dinner. He wandered into the armoury and saw the object of his search at one of the consoles. He'd entered rather quietly and Malcolm was engrossed in what he was doing, so Trip leant against a locker and waited.
After a couple of minutes, Malcolm said, without looking up, "Are you just going to stand there, Trip, or do I have to guess what you want?"
"I might have known I couldn't sneak up on you."
"You call that sneaking? A herd of elephants could have done better."
"Did you hear me?"
Malcolm turned to face Trip.
"Yes, and I saw you."
"How? You had your back to me. Have you got eyes in the back of your head or something?"
"Definitely 'or something'. Ever heard of mirrors, Trip?"
"There are no mirrors around here."
"Not what you'd call mirrors, no. But there are plenty of reflective surfaces."
"OK. Right. Well, I came to drag you down to the mess hall for some dinner. Unless I miss my guess, you didn't have any lunch today."
"I was too busy to stop for lunch, but dinner I'm looking forward to. Let's go."
"At least it wasn't resequenced meatloaf today." Trip remarked as they found a table and sat down with their meals.
"Chef does it so frequently that some people must like it."
"Can't think who."
"Hi, guys. Can we join you?"
They both looked up at the sound of Hoshi's voice. She and Travis were waiting expectantly with their trays.
"Of course. " Malcolm waved them to the empty seats.
Hoshi was obviously full of some news she wanted to impart, and couldn't wait to tell them. She dug in one of her pockets and came out with a bundle of paper.
"Kelly is distributing the newsletter and I managed to get one of the first ones. Guess what? All our pictures are in it, and they're fantastic. Kelly takes some super photos."
Trip almost snatched the newsletter out of Hoshi's hands and riffled through until he found the pages of photos. The centrefold was of the captain as was his right. The three pages before had pictures of T'Pol, Trip and Dr Phlox.
"Hey. T'Pol looks so good in that dress. Wish she'd crack her face and smile, though." Trip said.
"You look as though you're enjoying yourself, Trip. It's a smashing picture of you." Malcolm said, with his chin practically resting on Trip's shoulder.
"Where're our pictures?" Travis asked.
"Must be further on," Trip said flicking the pages. He passed the captain's picture and then found the pages with photos of Hoshi, Travis- and Malcolm.
"Wow." He whistled in appreciation.
Malcolm nudged his arm. "Is Hoshi's photo that good?" he asked.
"Hoshi's? Dunno, I'm not looking at hers. I'm looking at yours."
"Mine? You must be joking."
"No, he's not, Malcolm," Hoshi grabbed the newsletter and turned the page for all to see. "Just look at that. I've never seen a sexier photo. That picture is going to adorn a lot of walls" It was the photo taken with Malcolm sitting on the table.
"Gee, Mal, you may not have wanted to pose for pin-up pics, but that's exactly what you have done." Trip put a hand on his friend's shoulder as Malcolm put his head in his hands and groaned in dismay.
"I think I'm going to resign from Starfleet. Perhaps I'll go and live on a desert island somewhere."
The four friends finished their meal while discussing the merits, or otherwise of the photos, aware that quite a few other diners were doing exactly the same thing. Several crewmen, male as well as female looked across at Malcolm and silently wolf whistled. Then Lt. Hess whistled out loud directly at Malcolm.
Trip, Hoshi and Travis watched as Malcolm blushed right up to his hairline, then he picked up his tray and said, "I'm getting out of here." He tipped his tray's contents in the recycler and headed for the door amid a chorus of wolf whistles and cheers.
Trip caught up with him as he strode down the corridor towards the turbolift.
"Hold on, Mal. I've got some scotch in my quarters if you're interested." Trip could see his lover was rather embarrassed by the happenings in the mess hall, but knew that it would be better if he was not left alone right now. He would probably start brooding and thinking that it was all a bad joke.
Malcolm accepted the offer of a drink and walked with Trip to his quarters.
"Hmm. A single malt." said Malcolm appreciatively as Trip poured the amber liquid into two chunky glasses. He invited Malcolm to take the only chair, while he himself sat on the floor with his back against the bunk.
"Thought you'd like it. I don't only drink bourbon, you know."
They sat quietly for a while, conversation not always being necessary between them.
Then "Whatcha thinkin', Mal?" The alcohol made Trip's Southern accent more pronounced.
Malcolm looked up. "How long do you think it will take all this fuss to die down?"
"Dunno. A week. P'raps two. D'pends how soon the next excitin' thing crops up."
"I don't think I can stand it for that long."
"Well, ya could go and get y'self confined to sickbay with some sorta alien bug, I s'pose."
"Do you have any alien bugs handy?"
"Nah, 'fraid not."
"You're a lot of help."
"At least Ah'm tryin'!"
"Yes, I know, and I appreciate it."
There was silence for a few minutes then Trip said, "Stay the night?"
Malcolm smiled at him.
"Love to," he said, easing himself down to the floor and snuggling up to his lover.