A/N: Thanks, everyone, for the lovely comments. I got an entire chapter written yesterday because of it.

CHAPTER 3

Liz Cutler was beginning to wonder what she'd gotten herself into. She'd told T'Pol she'd be happy to lead the visitors on a tour while their ship was being repaired. It would be a nice break from her usual routine. Then she'd seen how gorgeous the five D'nini were. Squashing a surge of jealousy, she'd put on a bright smile and started the tour, wishing she'd at least stopped by her cabin to put on a fresh uniform. Not that it would have helped. Compared to the bright bevy of women, she felt downright dowdy.

Too bad Phlox had already shown them all the fancy gadgets in sickbay, not to mention his menagerie. But they didn't show any interest in the galley or the mess hall, or the science lab, either. They didn't even particularly seem to care for hydroponics with its multitude of plants and flowers.

She decided it would be a waste of time to show them Engineering. Ditto the armory, but for another reason. T'Pol had drawn her aside before the tour and told her that under no circumstances were the D'nini to get near Lieutenant Reed. Liz couldn't keep from grinning when T'Pol had explained why. It was a wise precaution, Liz realized, when she overheard a few whispers between some of the D'nini about the one thing on board that did have their interest.

But what was she going to do to keep them occupied? She was afraid if she took them back to their guest cabin, they'd demand to see Lieutenant Reed, and she didn't know if she could keep them corralled. She'd already twice caught the neon blue-garbed D'nini trying to slip away from the group.

Liz led them down another corridor, killing time until she came up with an idea.

The silver-haired D'nini had told her they weren't hungry when they'd visited the mess hall earlier, so that was out. Besides, there had been several male crew members in there who had brightened visibly at the sight of the D'nini. She had motioned Travis to back off when he got up from a table to approach the group. Even though T'Pol said it was okay for the D'nini to be around men, Liz wasn't going to take any chances.

Maybe they'd find some of the cultural aspects of Earth entertaining. She suggested going to her cabin to hear a selection of Earth music, and was finally rewarded with some enthusiasm on the part of the D'nini.

"We use music in our meditations," said the one in a yellow dress. The others nodded in agreement.

If her lecture on Earth music failed to keep them amused, maybe T'Pol could compare notes on meditation with them. That ought to keep them occupied for quite some time, Liz thought in grim amusement.

"My cabin's just down this corridor and around the corner," Liz told them.

The half-hour time limit for the men to remain out of sight was long past when Trip took a break from the repair work on the D'nini ship. He thought he'd round up Malcolm, and the two of them could go get something to eat. He checked Malcolm's favorite haunt -- the armory -- but he wasn't there, or anywhere else he checked, for that matter. It wasn't until Trip contacted the bridge and talked to Hoshi that he found out where Malcolm was.

Hoshi sounded a little strange. She told him that Malcolm was in his quarters and then cut the connection like she was busy, but not before he could have sworn he'd heard her snigger.

He went to Malcolm's cabin and rang the chime. When he didn't get an answer, he called out, "Malcolm? You in there?"

Muffled by the closed door, his friend's voice came to him faintly. "Trip?"

"You okay?" he called back.

The door slid open and Trip was greeted by the sight of a rumpled tactical officer who glanced uneasily past him into the corridor.

"Get in here!" Malcolm said, grabbing Trip by the arm and pulling him into the cabin. "You are not going to believe what's happened."

Malcolm quickly shut the door. Something was definitely wrong, but as Trip began to pry what that something was out of his friend -- Malcolm was never one to talk openly about things that were bothering or embarrassing him -- his concern gave way to a less sympathetic emotion.

"All five of 'em?" Trip asked, not sure whether to be amused or maybe jealous. "Geez, Malcolm! At least I've only gotten involved with one alien woman at a time."

Malcolm gave him a withering glare. "This isn't funny!"

"No, of course not," he said. He held up his hands placatingly, but he couldn't keep from snickering. "For one thing, your cabin's not big enough for all of 'em and you."

"Trip!"

"Sorry."

"What are you doing here anyway?" Malcolm asked in that suddenly intense way he had that could make a person feel like squirming. "Shouldn't you be working on their ship?"

"Take it easy, Malcolm," Trip said soothingly. "I got my best team workin' on it. That ship's so small we're fallin' all over each other. Me being gone isn't gonna cause any delay in fixin' their ship."

"As if this isn't bad enough," Malcolm said, "I haven't finished fixing the firing relays. I had about half of them done when I fell through the grate."

Trip watched as Malcolm began to pace back and forth in the small cabin. The poor guy really was upset. In an effort to empathize, Trip tried to imagine himself in a similar situation, but he couldn't. Five gorgeous women at one time -- it was too unbelievable! Worried that Malcolm was going to work himself into being sick, the engineer said, "You could probably use something to eat." He resisted adding that Malcolm would need to keep up his strength to deal with five women at once. That would be too cruel.

"I'm a bit hungry," Malcolm admitted, "but I'm not going anywhere until those women are off the ship, or until T'Pol and Hoshi find some useful information that might change the predicament I'm in."

"When was the last time you ate?" Trip persisted.

Malcolm distractedly ran a hand through his hair as he paced. "I don't know. I skipped lunch to work on the relays. I had tea and toast for breakfast this morning. Or was that yesterday?"

"I have it on good authority that Chef's making shepherd's pie tonight," Trip said in a cajoling tone.

Malcolm stopped his pacing and looked at Trip. "You're not making that up just to tempt me out of my cabin, are you?"

"Would I do that?" Trip asked, an innocent expression on his face.

Malcolm didn't buy it. He turned and began to pace again. "The way my luck's going today, I'd probably run into those women in the mess hall."

"I also know," Trip said, "that they've already been in the mess hall. Travis told me when I was lookin' for you. So they probably won't go back there again."

A speculative gleam appeared in Malcolm's eyes. "If we can make it to the turbolift without being seen, it might just work."

Liz was congratulating herself on finally finding something to hold the D'ninis' interest as they approached her cabin. Music could be calming. That's why mothers sang to cranky babies. She would just make sure that she didn't play any love ballads, especially ones about unrequited love.

The D'nini women were nice enough, she supposed, but they didn't seem to understand the awkward situation they'd caused. Then again, they weren't familiar with human customs. It was simply a case of culture clash.

She stopped in front of her cabin door and was about to punch in her code when there came the sound of another cabin door opening farther down the corridor. She glanced that way, started to turn back to her group, and did a double take. Commander Tucker was stepping out into the corridor, and right behind him was Lieutenant Reed.

She hastily opened her cabin door and tried to get the D'nini to enter, but it was too late. They'd seen their quarry, and off they went in pursuit. They weren't quite running, but it was a chase nonetheless. Liz and Commander Tucker were left in the dust as the pack of D'nini, their colorful skirts swirling around them, walked quickly down the corridor in the direction Lieutenant Reed had taken.

Hoshi had just finished talking to representatives of the D'nini homeworld when T'Pol stepped on to the bridge from the turbolift.

"The captain is still in his ready room?" T'Pol asked with a glance in that direction as she approached the communications console.

Hoshi nodded. "I think he thinks it isn't safe to come out."

T'Pol let the comment pass. "Have you been able to obtain any information from the D'nini homeworld?"

Hoshi nodded again. "Yes. I talked to the leader of the religious sect to which our guests belong. There may be a way to solve this problem without any hard feelings, but it's going to take several days before we can attempt it."

"I, too, was able to glean some useful information from the D'nini," T'Pol said.

The two compared notes, then went to the ready room to talk to the captain.

"This might work," the captain said about five minutes later after T'Pol and Hoshi had reported their findings. "That's provided we can get Mr. Reed to go along with it. And also provided that we don't run into anything on the way that delays us."

"Time is of the essence," T'Pol agreed, "not only to resolve the issue, but to salvage what is left of Mr. Reed's dignity."

An image of Malcolm, armed to the teeth and barricaded in his quarters, rose in Hoshi's mind, and she tried not to laugh. The captain appeared to find T'Pol's statement amusing as well, and he opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the intercom.

"Cutler to Commander T'Pol!"

The urgency in Cutler's voice was an indication that something was wrong, and Hoshi watched anxiously as T'Pol stepped over to the comm panel on the captain's desk.

"T'Pol here."

"The D'nini have found Lieutenant Reed!"

"Please elaborate," T'Pol said.

"I was taking them to my cabin...to listen to music...and they saw the lieutenant come out of his quarters."

"Where are they now?" T'Pol asked.

"I don't know. They took off after him. Commander Tucker is trying to keep up with them, but I thought I'd better let you know first."

Hoshi heard the captain groan and mutter something about a three rings and a circus.

Malcolm tried to tell himself that this was like an exercise he sometimes conducted for his armory staff. He was the fox to his staff's hounds in a simulated tactical drill. Their objective was to hunt him down; his was to elude them. But his men seldom caught him. And if they did, the scenario ended there, and then they would have a briefing on how the exercise went.

Somehow, though, he didn't think there would be any discussion involved if the D'nini women caught him. They'd simply surround him, and he'd be smothered to death in a brilliant implosion of silky fabrics.

As he trotted around yet another curve in the corridor, he wondered if he could double back and slip into his cabin without being seen. At least the D'nini seemed to stay in a group. If they split up, he'd have a harder time evading them and they might eventually be able to corner him. He shuddered at the thought.

He wasn't afraid of women. Quite the opposite, actually. He usually enjoyed being around the fairer sex. But five at once was beyond his capability, not to mention his imagination, to handle gracefully. Besides, there was something about the look they got in their eyes whenever they mentioned seeing his blood that made him more apprehensive than facing a squadron of Klingons. It wasn't a feeling he liked. Maybe it was some primal survival instinct kicking in, making him react this way. Five women at once -- it could be the death of him.

Oddly enough, he wasn't scared so much about what the D'nini might do to him -- provided it didn't result in his death, of course -- as that he'd never live it down. Trip's reaction had been bad enough. He couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like if everyone on board knew.

With a start, he realized it had been a bad move to let his mind wander. He'd moved so quickly that he'd gone a full circuit on the deck and had come up behind the slower-moving D'nini.

Trip was at the head of their pack, walking backward as he tried to slow them down. Trip's gaze shifted to Malcolm as he came into view. Too late Malcolm realized the startled expression on the engineer's face was all the D'nini needed to alert them, and they turned as one and saw him.

What little pride Malcolm had asserted itself. Instead of reversing course, he held his ground as they approached, arms fluttering in excitement and soft voices imploring him not to leave. He cast a desperate glance at Trip, who pushed his way through the group.

Positioning himself between Malcolm and the D'nini, Trip turned to face the onslaught. "Now hold on!" he said. "Give the man some room! What are ya tryin' to do? Trample him?"

Malcolm gulped and found his voice. "Yes. Please. You need to maintain a...a...proper distance."

With disappointed murmurs, the women reluctantly complied. Malcolm took his first deep breath since the chase had begun. He looked at Trip but what he saw was not heartening. Trip appeared as surprised as he did that the D'nini had obeyed.

"They'll listen to you," Malcolm said from between clenched teeth. "Tell them they have to leave me alone."

Trip shrugged and said, "I'll give it a shot." He cleared his throat in an authoritative manner. "Ladies, you have to leave Lieutenant Reed here alone."

The D'nini weren't happy with his pronouncement. Silver took a step closer, forcing Trip back a step, and said, "We have seen his blood!"

Trip swallowed. "Yeah. I heard about that. But you've got to give the man some space! He has duties to perform and you're interferin' with those duties."

Malcolm nodded vigorously. That much was true.

"But we want to be with him," Neon Blue spoke up from behind Silver.

"Yes," echoed Saffron Yellow. "It is our destiny as shown by his blood."

As their voices rose, Trip and Malcolm began slowly backing away. The D'nini followed.

"Ladies!" Trip said, holding up his hands and trying to calm them. "We're gonna have to set down some rules."

"An excellent idea, Commander," came T'Pol's voice from down the corridor behind the D'nini.

The Vulcan made her way through the D'nini women and turned to face them, her back to the two men. Malcolm felt oddly reassured by her presence. T'Pol could probably take out the whole lot of them by herself. Not that he couldn't, but it just wouldn't be right for him to harm five women who only wanted to-- He abruptly stopped himself from following that train of thought to its conclusion.

T'Pol calmly eyed the five D'nini. "We need to formulate a set of guidelines that will allow us to function efficiently, without imposing undue stress on any of the parties involved," she said.

Trip, avoiding Malcolm's gaze and sounding suspiciously like he wanted to laugh, coughed instead. "What do you suggest, T'Pol?" he asked.

T'Pol cast a glance over her shoulder at Trip. "We have three days before the D'nini abbess arrives." She turned back to the D'nini as they broke out in excited exclamations.

"The abbess is coming!" Silver cried joyfully. "Our union will be formally blessed!"

"What!" cried Malcolm.

T'Pol looked over her other shoulder at the agitated tactical officer. "There is to be what humans would call a wedding," she said.

It was a good thing Malcolm's disbelieving gaze was locked on T'Pol's face, or else he would have missed her exaggerated wink.