A/N: Ugh, slow build is slow. Wow, this chapter is long, and so much dialogue... I'm sorry, but there's so much exposition to show in the early chapters... it will get better soon, I promise!

Also, thank you for all your lovely reviews. They make my day!

STRINGS ATTACHED

CHAPTER 2

Malcolm nodded at the two guards at Trip's door and walked straight past them when it opened. Luckily, they didn't block his path nor asked what was under the lidded tray he was carrying. Under normal circumstances, Malcolm would have been appalled at such shortcomings among his staff; right now, though, he was glad for it, since there was no official reason for him to appear at Trip's quarters.

"Mister Tucker," he greeted stiffly as a show for the guards, before the doors closed behind him and he relaxed.

Trip was sitting on his bed and only slowly raised his gaze from the PADD he was studying. One look was enough for Malcolm to deduct that the Engineer's piss-poor mood hadn't changed over the last ten hours. Not that Malcolm could blame him, really; given Trip's tendency for insomnia, he surely hadn't slept a lot and waited all night for some news. But since Archer had made no order to inform Trip about the state of the investigation, nor given a time frame for his arrest, Malcolm had had no signed-off reason to make contact. This morning, though, after he had caught a few hours of restless sleep, Malcolm had decided to at least stop by.

Presuming well in what kind of mood he would find his boyfriend in, he had come prepared. Instead of waiting for a greeting, thus, he held up the covered tray. Trip's curiosity took over, though he still didn't move or change his expression. "I really hope there's coffee on that tray, Mal."

Malcolm cracked a small smile and, with the confidence of someone who was much too acquainted with his Commander's private quarters, strode towards Trip's desk to put down the tray.

"Oh, ye of little faith," he shook his head slowly and lifted the lid, presenting a steaming cup of coffee and –

"Pecan pie?" Trip's mood changed drastically in a nanosecond and he quickly moved over, gave Malcolm a peck on the cheek, and grabbed the coffee. "You're the best!"

Huffing, Malcolm watched how tenderly and passionately his boyfriend nursed the beverage in comparison to the evil glares and lack of greetings he had received. Oh, well. One day, he would have to do something about Trip's coffee addiction – a Chief Engineer whose hands started to shake when he didn't get any coffee at regular intervals surely counted as a safety hazard. Thinking about what lay ahead for them, he decided that today wasn't that day.

Trip apparently didn't expect to be reinstated anytime soon: he was dressed in civilian clothes, his hair was a mess, and he hadn't shaved this morning. It was an eerily intimate sight for Malcolm, since life on Enterprise didn't grant leisure time for its ranking officers very often. During the three years that Malcolm had known Trip, he had seen him in civilian clothes outside of the gym only a handful of times, and none of them had been against the backdrop of is own quarters.

"So I take it the word hasn't spread, yet?" Trip asked and pulled Malcolm out of his musings as he reached for the pie. "At least Chef still likes me."

Ever since Trip had upgraded Chef's outdated kitchen appliances during after hours and, most noticeably, had turned the stove into a multifunctional high-tech machine, a fresh piece of pecan pie was waiting every day for him to pick up. Only when Chef was mad, for example when Engineering had been forced to shut down all power just when the soufflés had been almost ready, was there no pie. It was a good way for the crew to measure whether or not to approach their Commander (or, equally important, their Chef) with further bad news each day.

"That makes at least two crewmembers."

It was a cheesy thing to say, something Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, Chief of Security and former secret super spy agent of Starfleet, would never have uttered just a few months ago. Since he was with Trip, though, he had found that a little bit of 'sweet talkin'' and flirting wasn't all that bad, either. It was funny, had he grown weak? Ah, who knew. At least Trip was finally smiling again.

… yeah, he had definitely grown weak.

Stupid Yank.

"But will you still like me when I'm in prison?" Trip asked, expertly taking the compliment but lightening the air without leaving Malcolm to stew in embarrassment. Trip, obviously heaving an easier time with sharing emotions and showing affection, knew how much effort it took for Malcolm to open up like that. Which meant he only taunted Malcolm mercilessly half of the time.

"I might get jealous. A pretty guy like you would be quite popular in prison."

"I'll write you every day, promise."

"Maybe we can have conjugal visits?"

Trip had sauntered over during their exchange and now let his head sink against Malcolm's shoulder with a deep sigh. "What the hell, Malcolm. This is fucked up."

Malcolm, drawing him close, patted his shoulder. It should have been awkward with him being the smaller one, but it wasn't. "I'll talk to Archer in a few minutes."

Immediately, Trip pulled away from Malcolm and started to pace the room. Strengthened by the coffee, he was closing in on the task at hand: getting out of here. "What's your plan?"

Typically for the analytical technician, he had aimed straight for the problem – because Malcolm didn't have a plan yet. Hell, he even doubted that Captain Archer had one. There was no real case against Trip, but no alternative theory either. He could try to make Archer see reason or find another explanation for what happened yesterday night, but he would have to talk to Engineering first, which meant admitting that an investigation was in order.

Trip, noticing the delay in response, stopped his pacing and looked at Malcolm. "You have a plan, right?"

"I don't have all the information yet. Lieutenant Hess has to walk me through the process of –"

"What do you need to know?" Trip interrupted him impatiently, eyes rolling. "The computer records all entries with time stamps. Anna can show you, but the data is excessive, you'll need to tell her what you're looking for."

Malcolm remained quiet, watching Trip pace up and down the room while thinking aloud.

"Rewriting that code in secret must have taken some time, I'd say at least three days for a trained coder. If you send me some data, I can have a look at it."

He looked at Malcolm finally, who only pressed his lips together and slightly shook his head. Anna Hess and he had talked over a few possible procedures, but it was classified information, most of all classified from the suspect.

"I can't talk to you about this, Trip," he said therefore, already knowing and hating where this was heading. "I'm sorry, but the protocol here is very stri –"

"Protocol!" Trip interrupted, the frustration taking over like Malcolm had predicted.

He lifted his hands to show peaceful intentions. Don't shoot the messenger. "The Captain has uttered an accusation against you and that triggers a certain response. We can't risk compromising the investigation."

Trip sneered. Talking about triggered... "Aren't you already a little bit compromised?"

For an officer so high in the chain of command, Trip surely had a tendency to see orders as well-intended recommendations, and was generally appalled when others didn't. Not for the first time, Malcolm wondered if Trip would have ever seen deep space if it weren't for Jonathan Archer, who had honed the skill of writing perfectly accurate reports yet somehow managed to always excuse or downplay his Chief Engineer's capricious actions… then again, from what Malcolm had gathered, Jonathan Archer wouldn't have seen deep space if it hadn't been for Trip's impulsive decision to prove to the Vulcan's that their engines were working.

These two really deserve each other, Malcolm thought without any hint of amusement.

Trip threw his hands up when he got no answer. "Great. My own boyfriend is leading an investigation against me and his greatest worry is staying uncompromised."

Malcolm had been in enough arguments with Trip to know the drill: indignation – rage mode – sulking – brilliant problem solving – apology. He liked the apology part best. And since it came quickest when Trip was left to chew on his guilty conscience over his unprovoked outbursts alone, Malcolm wasn't going to get sucked into the argument.

"I will speak with Archer and try to calm him down," he said instead, ignoring Trip's temper and focusing on what lay ahead. "Then we will see what our options are."

He pushed himself from the wall and began to collect the dishes. Trip watched him, fuming but at least listening. "I don't know why he is so paranoid. But if he starts distrusting me as well, someone else will lead the investigation and I'm sure that's not in your interest."

Grudgingly, Trip mumbled something incomprehensible and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Beg your pardon?" Pushing the lid over the empty dishes on the tray, Malcolm glared at the Engineer.

"I said, thank you for the coffee." Of course, Trip was lying through his teeth. It was a peace offering though, one Malcolm was going to accept.

"I'll be back this afternoon."

Trip nodded. "You think someone will bring me lunch?"

Ah, there was regular Trip Tucker again, already thinking about the next meal.

Malcolm smiled. Peace restored. "I'll make sure."

Malcolm took a deep breath before he entered the bridge. Immediately, all eyes were on him. T'Pol's empty station struck him as odd, not for the first time – even though she rarely joined their conversations, her steady and quiet presence was calming and important to the dynamics of the bridge crew. Right now, with the tension palpable between them, they could have needed T'Pol's level-headedness. Hoshi and Travis, who hadn't seen him since yesterday night, looked anxious and worried, though Captain Archer's smile was as jovial as when they first started their voyages.

"Lieutenant, come on," Archer waved at him, getting up from his chair and leading the way to the Ready Room. Porthos, hidden from view by a console, jumped and hurried after his owner. Malcolm trailed behind them, nodding greetings to the others.

"I couldn't leave him alone in my room today," Archer explained superfluously and motioned towards his dog, who had already curled up on a blanket in the corner in the Ready Room.

"I can imagine," Malcolm said. With big eyes, Porthos looked up at them. "How are you doing, Sir?"

Without Porthos, Archer might have very well died yesterday night, and he was glad that both of them had come through unscathed. Archer had insisted on sleeping in his room after Hess had repaired the environmental settings, but Malcolm guessed that falling asleep without knowing if enough oxygen crept into your room must have been tough. It was a cruel way of dying, one Malcolm hadn't even considered until yesterday.

"I'm good," the Captain started. "Actually, I'm feeling better than I did for some time now." He took a seat behind his desk and shrugged his shoulders with a loop-sided smile. It was a typical gesture for Archer, but one Malcolm hadn't seen in a while. Indeed, the other man seemed more relaxed than he had been in a long time, it almost felt like meeting an old friend again.

Malcolm felt how his own tension eased, too. Jonathan Archer had this effect on people – in the dreariest of situation, he was able to inspire confidence and optimism. He made you feel safe, welcome. It was what made him a good captain and a great diplomat. It had also been, Malcolm realised, exactly what had been missing over the past few months.

"I don't understand," Malcolm answered, carefully. He had gotten the implications of Archer's words, but couldn't see how yesterday night might have any significance for this apparent self-rediscovery. The image of two guards patrolling his boyfriend's quarters solidly placed itself between Archer's newly-found relaxedness and any effect it could have on Malcolm.

In thoughts, Archer nodded. He leaned back in his chair and looked at Porthos in the corner of his room, Slowly, he began to speak, making up the words as his thoughts ordered themselves. "Things have been tense lately. The Expanse has been stressful, for all of us, but.. Trip and I haven't been a good example for leadership, I fear."

Abruptly, Archer focussed his gaze on Malcolm. "You're usually the first one to point that out, Malcolm."

Malcolm automatically sat a bit straighter. "Sir?"

A boyish smile appeared on the Captain's lips, the one that he always sported when he considered messing with someone. It disappeared quickly, though. "I know you and Trip have grown close during the last months," – Malcolm's pulse quickened – "while I haven't been such a good friend during our mission. But, Malcolm… I need you to remember your duties, now."

"Captain," Malcolm breathed out before he even realised it. "My duties to this ship always come first."

"I know, I know," Archer held his palms up, signalling peaceful intent, "But I know what I'm asking you will be difficult. Malcolm, I know how... compelling Trip's friendship can be."

Malcolm swallowed drily. "Excuse me?" Talking to his boss about how compelling his secret boyfriend could be wasn't on his to-do-list, not when said boyfriend was accused of murder. Or ever, for that matter.

Archer smiled wistfully and looked out of the window at the stars. "I've known Trip for ten years. We've been good friends for most of them. But we grew apart in the Expanse, and he turned to you instead."

"I don't see how this is of any relevance, Sir. I'd rather talk about Lieutenant Hess' proposal about further proce –"

"In a second, Malcolm." Archer turned his gaze to him now, that wistful smile still on his lips. He looked genuine, even a little sad. "Trip's friendship is... intense. And rewarding. But you need to be objective now, Lieutenant."

The shift from name to rank wasn't lost on him. The Captain was starting to talk business. Though he had an inkling where this introduction was about to go, Malcolm only raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"There was a serious attack on my life yesterday night and all evidence points to Trip. You are Chief of Security, Mister Reed, "Archer's smile faded, his gaze turned harder, "and you are my highest ranking officer until T'Pol returns. I need you to prioritise your loyalties, even if it means investigating against a friend."

"Of course, Sir," Malcolm felt indignation bubble up at the insinuation that he'd risk the ship's security for personal feelings – even for personal feelings of an extent the Captain had obviously no idea about. Thank God.

...At least now he knew why he hadn't been called to the crime scene immediately.

"Good," Archer leaned back and closed his eyes for a few seconds, as if bracing himself against what was to come. "I understand you wanted to interrogate me."

Malcolm nodded and shifted in his chair. "Captain," Archer's words echoed in his head, and he needed to be careful about his wording now. "With all due respect, the findings in Engineering alone do not warrant the actions you took against Mister Tucker."

Annoyance crossed Captain Archer's features, an echo of the hardness he had sported for the last weeks. "There are not many people on board who are able to manipulate the environmental sensors."

That was true. Trip, Anna Hess and maybe one or two of the other Engineers. T'Pol for sure. Malcolm had the passwords but lacked the programming knowledge. Hoshi came to mind, she had quite a knack for coding, and she surely would have been able to get her hands on the passwords... Hoshi, Malcolm thought mildly amused, had the capacities to do everything she set her mind to, which made her as valuable as it made her scary.

"Yet you only arrested the Commander, Sir."

"I haven't been arguing with the others on a daily basis." Archer's expression turned dark just thinking about it. "There have been severe tensions between us, he has told me repeatedly that he was fed up with me."

Malcolm had noticed, thanks. As had the whole ship. "That is not enough to accuse anyone of attempted murder."

Archer sighed. "I have been harsh to him, lately. Maybe I pushed him too far yesterday. We both said things we shouldn't have."

Locking eyes with Malcolm, Archer shrugged helplessly. Maybe he had gotten through? The man before him seemed so open to Malcolm's input all of a sudden, it was ridiculous that he had barked out harsh orders just yesterday. Malcolm liked this side of him a lot more – Captain Archer had listened to options, ideas and possibilities before springing into action and violence in the Expanse.

"Tell me about the argument." It was as good a start as any. The Captain's report had described the incident last night in great detail, but Malcolm needed to dig deeper, expose the personal feelings that clouded his Captain's rational mind.

The change in attitude was immediate: Archer's back stiffened, his mouth stretched into a thin line. "I've been studying the system overhaul intensely and proposed a reroute of the power paths. Since T'Pol isn't here to oversee the progress, I came to Engineering myself. Trip wouldn't even let me finish before he blew up in my face."

Trip had told him an abridged version of their fight yesterday, and insisted on having been compliant. Knowing Trip, however, there had been at least some very creatively-worded resistance from the Southerner. The truth lay somewhere between his and Archer's account.

"How did you react?"

"Well, I guess I snapped back." At this, Archer ran a hand through his hair awkwardly. "Not very professional of me, I know. We were at each others' throats pretty quickly, until I reminded him about who he was talking to. "

"I'm guessing he didn't take that well?" Not in Engineering. In Engineering, Trip called the shots. "To be fair, it is a technical matter and he is the expert."

That had been a step too far. Abruptly, the Captain's glare focused on him, and he leaned forward. "I'm telling you the same thing I told Trip, Lieutenant. I know my ship. And as long as Commander Tucker doesn't give me a good technical explanation about why the plans aren't beneficial for Enterprise, I expect him to follow my orders."

Malcolm had stiffened, and only realised he had been holding his breath when Archer's gaze left him and fell on Porthos, who was twitching in his sleep. "Aye, Sir." He didn't know what else to say.

"You are right though, he didn't take it well." Tensely, Archer continued, "actually, he told me he'd strangle me if I didn't leave Engineering at once."

On the inside, Malcolm wanted to bang his head against the hard surface of the desk. Repeatedly. Leave it to Trip to make things more difficult.

"That... does paint the scene a little bit clearer," he forced himself to say diplomatically. "Did anyone else hear this argument?"

"Sure. We were in the middle of Engineering."

Malcolm cursed inwardly. Now he would have to take the accusation seriously and conduct a real investigation. So far, he had hoped to find a way around it – but now he had to include it in his report. Of course such an utterance alone wasn't evidence, but it wouldn't reflect well on Trip's claims to innocence.

"I will speak to Lieutenant Hess about this incident."

Archer nodded, and then didn't say anything more about it, which was fine for Malcolm. He needed to tackle the issue from another angle.

"Captain, if I may..." Putting on a bit of a show, Malcolm wriggled in his chair, "I still have trouble actually suspecting Mister Tucker without finding a possible motive. I know things have been tense, but don't you think murder would be a bit of a drastic move?"

At that, Archer eyed him wearily and leaned back in his chair, weighing the pros and cons of telling Malcolm what was on his mind. So he had guessed right: there was something else. Malcolm felt his nerves tingle.

"Malcolm," Archer started and breathed out heavily. So they were back on first name basis and personal issues – Malcolm wondered if the Captain was even aware of how he changed his address depending on the subject. "What I'm about to tell you has to stay in this room until we know for sure that it is related to the case."

"Of course, Sir." Malcolm was now on the edge of his seat, unconsciously leaning in closer.

Archer seemed distressed and stubbornly looked at Porthos instead of Malcolm. "During our time in the Expanse, Trip was … romantically involved with T'Pol."

Malcolm felt his insides freeze. Archer thought this was connected to... Oh, come on.

"T'Pol?"

He hadn't meant to actually say anything, but hell, it was the right reaction. Looking at Malcolm, Archer must have taken his wide eyes and exclamation for a first, incredulous reaction, for he smiled a small, conspiratory smile.

"I know, it seems rather... unlikely. And I don't think it worked out. But from what Trip told me back then, he was quite serious about it."

It took a lot of self-restraint not to snort. Of course, everything had to lead back to T'Pol and Trip. Of course it was just his bloody luck that the whole universe circled around that woman.

Malcolm's swallowed any comment he might have uttered down, and it tasted like fire. Of all people, they now discussed T'Pol.

"I see he didn't tell you," Archer shrugged amiably. "I'm guessing it's still a sore topic."

You have no fucking idea. Malcolm felt the anxiety grow. He hadn't expected T'Pol's name to be dropped – and when it came to her, Malcolm needed to be prepared. He needed to prepare himself against the jealousy rising and clouding his mind.

"It's quite... surprising," he mumbled when he realised that Archer waited for some sort of reaction. "I don't see how this is connected, though."

"Well, he was very upset that I sent her away" Archer said, dead serious as if it was the most logical explanation. "We haven't been able to hold one civil conversation afterwards."

"I don't understand."

Archer sighed heavily. He was growing impatient with the interview. "It's the science conference of Tellar Prime, Malcolm. It's basically a job fair for astro scientists, and T'Pol is the only scientist in the milky way that has been in the Expanse and survived it."

Malcolm blinked in surprise."The Sub-Commander wants to leave?"

Archer tilted his head wistfully, indicating that he didn't like that thought. "Well, she hasn't told me yet. But she just married. If she plans of having a family or live with her husband, Enterprise can't be her first choice and Vulcan isn't to keen on her right now."

Malcolm shook his head slightly, partly to shake off his frustration about having to talk about T'Pol's family planning, partly to concentrate on where this was heading. This was just ridiculous. And to think that Trip reproached him for being dramatic about T'Pol..."That would rather be a motive for killing her husband."

The Captain crossed his arms, signalling that he was disappointed by Malcolm's lack of enthusiasm for his theory. "Well, Trip was definitely upset with me when we talked about it."

Now that was news to Malcolm, who felt his heart go faster. "You talked about her?"

"Yes, he asked. And he was spitting mad when I told him about the conference."

Malcolm closed his eyes. As expected, the jealousy had come out of its cave during the last minutes and had slowly but steadily risen above him, growing and wrapping itself around his mind. Like cosmic background radiation, it had begun to whisper and hiss in his ears, drawing up memories from the last days, memories with Trip, only to twist them.

Trip had told him that Archer wouldn't talk to him about the conference. Trip hadn't said a word about any ulterior motives Archer or T'Pol might have regarding it. Had he lied?

"You think I'm exaggerating," Archer sighed. "You think I'm making this up."

Prying himself away from the jealousy's whispers, Malcolm tried to sound calm and collected. It wasn't easy with his insides burning. "It's an... interesting take, Captain. While Mister Tucker is surely impulsive, he is neither stupid nor violent enough to plan and execute a murder attempt."

"Trip changed," Archer said without missing a beat, and the little hairs on Malcolm's back tingled at how much this reminded him about the conversation he and Trip had had just yesterday. "I don't know what he's capable of any more."

"That is all speculative, Captain. Very speculative." Malcolm's head swam.

"He didn't use to talk back at me in front of the crew, either, or throw me out of Engineering." Archer seemed to be far away in memories, his voice holding a touch of longing.

Malcolm, tired, shaken, decided to end this conversation. There was no leeway, no alternative path to take: Archer was set on blaming Trip, and obviously reconstructed a motive out of reinterpreted conversations.

Obviously.

Because Trip would never seriously attempt to hurt anyone out of spite. He was one of the genuinely kindest people Malcolm had ever met. Though the Southerner had a temper from hell and surely knew how to throw a punch, he detested violence. Archer, of all people on board, should know this.

Then why don't you trust his judgement?, a small voice in the back of his head asked, sounding very much like the jealousy that had wrapped its claws around him.

He shook it off. This was ridiculous. He was Chief of Security, and there was a case to investigate. Get it together, Reed.

Archer, in the meantime, was rubbing his eyes. He was done as well. They would have to talk about this again tomorrow, and maybe Malcolm had found another explanation until then. One that didn't involve T'Pol, preferably.

He chose his words carefully. "With all due respect, Sir, we have been involved in so many strange incidents in the past that I feel the need to keep an open mind about this matter."

This was as close to insubordination as Malcolm felt capable of going. Lucky for him, Archer cracked a small smile and slightly tilted his head to the side in silent agreement. "I understand, Lieutenant."

Malcolm returned to Trip's quarters much later than planned. When he entered, he was taken aback by the tidiness of the room. Only an empty, dirty plate marred the image of a room that would pass military inspection.

"Oh, thank God you're here," Trip called, lying on the bed with a book over his head."I'm going crazy in here."

Bored already? Malcolm smirked, despite being in a poor mood. He hadn't managed to get T'Pol and any impact her absence (or presence, for that matter) might have on Trip out of his head. The rational part of his brain, the one he had let do the talking with Archer, was convinced that there was nothing to the Captain's theory – that Trip wasn't secretly still madly in love with her, that he hadn't lied straight to Malcolm's face, that Shakespearian revenge plots really weren't Trip's style.

The irrational part, fuelled by jealousy's hisses and moans, kept asking: But what if? That part of him had taken permanent residence right under his solar plexus, where it kept pounding his rip cage and kicking his stomach, and kept him from concentrating on his work, on the weapons' system that was underperforming because of the power fluctuations and from finding an alternative explanation for the attack on the Captain.

What if Trip had snapped at Captain Archer's latest criticism and did something drastically? The Engineer was impulsive at the best of times. What if he still had feelings for T'Pol? Their brief but intense affair had meant a lot to Trip. Feelings like that didn't just disappear over night. Malcolm knew a thing or two about that.

It was as ridiculous as it was stupid. It was also where Malcolm's mind wandered to constantly.

What if? What if? What if?

"Malcolm, what's up? Why are you late?"

Trip had sat up with enthusiasm and waited for Malcolm to say something. But he, caught up in the spiral of thoughts he kept falling prey to, hadn't been fast enough to school his expression. The Engineer had noticed Malcolm's sombre mood and was alarmed immediately.

Malcolm sighed, trying to stay in the here and now. There was no use in tiptoeing around the subject, he had kept Trip waiting long enough already. "It was your console. There was a manipulation to the environmental systems and a coded reroute to keep the alarms silent."

Trip's brow furrowed only slightly. "Well, the settings could have been timed. Or the evidence has been manipulated from the very beginning." Apparently, he had either already forgotten or ignored Malcolm's decision not to discuss the technical details with him.

"That's what Lieutenant Hess said," Malcolm answered therefore, simply. He had spent the afternoon in Engineering, with Anna Hess explaining all the possibilities to manipulate code, to hack into the systems or disrupt a signal. She had been very thorough and engaged, and had studied the systems involved in Environmental all night – obviously, the thought of suffocating in your sleep wasn't just scary to Malcolm.

Trip noticed Malcolm's diplomatic answer and sighed theatrically. "You're still not gonna tell me?" He let himself fall back on the bed when Malcolm shook his head slowly. "Can you at least tell me what's so important for us to abandon the nebula?"

Malcolm looked up, confused. What was Trip talking about?

The Engineer furrowed his brow and made a gesture that encompassed everything around him. "We revved up a few hours ago. Warp 2.2, at least."

Automatically, Malcolm looked out of the window at the faint, distanced stars. They looked the same to him as they always had. For days, the Enterprise was observing a huge, isolated nebula with weird light patterns, only sometimes using impulse drive.

"We barely moved."

Trip shook his head, looking annoyed. "We're moving. I feel it."

Trip had an eerie talent of telling how fast they were going once the warp drive was online, and sometimes a vibration, a creak or even just a hunch told him that Enterprise had changed course. He was always right, but this time, Malcolm knew for sure that they wouldn't be moving, because –

"It's just that T'Pol's shuttle probably won't have fast warp. We're distancing from our rendezvous point."

Trip had said it with nonchalance, looking at the ceiling, but to Malcolm, the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. T'Pol. There she was again.

What if...

"I wasn't informed of any course changes or warp indication," Malcolm said stiffly. Don't go there. Trip had nothing to do all day but think about imaginary course changes. It meant nothing.

With an ironically lifted eyebrow, Trip huffed a mirthless laugh. "Well, get used to it, Lieutenant Commander. Cap'n doesn't like to share his plans any more."

"Secrecy comes with the higher ranks, I guess," Malcolm gritted out between teeth, not able to keep it inside. Beneath his solar plexus, the jealousy was eating away and left a cold burn. Accused of murder but worrying about picking up T'Pol... What if, what if, what if.

"Now what's that supposed to mean?" Trip had gotten the sideswipe.

What the hell. Malcolm felt tired all of sudden. He had enough suspicion and distrust for one day. "Why didn't you tell me that you knew why Archer sent her to Tellar Prime?"

Trip had been lying on the bed with his arms behind his head, quite relaxed, but now his body language changed drastically. For a second, his eyes went wide and he tensed – it was gone immediately, but Malcolm had seen it. Busted. Very slowly, with guarded movements, Trip sat up again.

"You two talked about the conference?"

"It came up, yes. You told me the Captain didn't offer any information."

Malcolm's heart rate sped up. Trip didn't seem particularly guilty, but tense. Maybe there was a very logical explanation. Maybe he had just forgotten.

But what if he hadn't?

"Actually, Mal," Trip started, and Malcolm knew he wouldn't like the answer immediately, "I'm trying all I can to not drop her name with you if it's not absolutely necessary."

"So it's true." The sinking feeling in his stomach grew, the burning spread.

Trip rolled his eyes defensively. "I didn't tell you because you didn't need to know."

"That's no excuse for lying."

"We work together closely! I should know when she leaves so we can arrange our schedules." Trip crossed his arms and sighed defensively. "This conversation is exactly the reason why I didn't tell you."

Ah, so it was his fault, lovely. "You could have told me."

"Why were you two even talking about this?" Trip's voice rose a bit, his glare intensified. "Aren't you supposed to interrogate me?"

"Fine." Malcolm sat down heavily at Trip's desk. "Commander, please elaborate what you meant when you told the Captain you wanted to strangle him?"

That made Trip, who had been tense but self-assured until now, blink. For a second, he stared at Malcolm confused, then he rolled his eyes passionately. "Oh come on, you know I just said it to blow off steam."

"Is this also why you repeated the sentiment to Lieutenant Hess later?"

Distraught, Anna Hess had asked if Trip's casual remark towards her would have to be logged and thus be interpreted as evidence. To be fair, there wasn't a crewmember, or a circuit or relay for that matter, that Trip hadn't threatened to kill slowly and painfully, and his colourful choice of words when he was in a foul mood was well-known aboard. When she had even repeated the exact same wording the Captain had used, Malcolm had guessed that though the words were neither a motive nor evidence, a strict military approach would at least mean disciplinary measures.

Trip groaned and let his face sink into his hands. "You're kidding, right?"

"Various sources quoted you. It's rather... unfortunate timing given the context."

"This is fucked up," Trip summarised and looked out of the window.

At least they agreed on that.

-tbc-

damn I just realised that I could've named the whole story 'Malcolm in the Middle'...