"Didn't anyone ever tell you you're meant to let the boss win?"

"I would sir, but I physically cannot play that poorly."

The Captain barked out a laugh and turned to where Hayes was sitting with Capt. Eddison, Sgt. Mackenzie, and Sgt. Ayodele, cards and chips on the table in front of them. "Do MACOs speak to their COs like this?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Reed, leaning on his pool cue like a staff. On the other side of the pool table, Reed continued sizing up his shot, but looked up at the Captain, grinning.

"Absolutely not sir," Edison said, emphatically, swivelling in his seat to get a better look at Reed. "You should be ashamed of yourself, Malcolm, ashamed."

Malcolm. When had he become 'Malcolm' to so many of Hayes team? He didn't know of the offer had been extended to them, or they'd just started using his first name, but either way, it wasn't a privilege Hayes had. He had told himself that it was because Eddison was technically the same rank as Reed, while Hayes himself technically outranked him. He also had twenty-four years' experience in MACO, compared to Reed's seven in Starfleet. He intimidated Reed; that was it. And Ed was from London, so obviously they had the English connection. Yeah. That was it…

"Flog him, sir," Mac suggested, scanning her cards and the river before making her bet. She ran her hands through her blond hair, that she had taken to wearing down off duty like the Fleeter ladies did. Hayes hated it – he felt like she was going native. Traitor. "Tie him to the mast."

Reed had made his shot and was moving around the table, sizing up another. "I am trying sir, I promise you; it's just rather difficult."

"Captain, sir, you do not have to put up with this cheek," Ed insisted, eyes twinkling. He put his hand on his chest. "Allow me to escort him to the brig for you."

The Captain clapped his hand on his shoulder. "I appreciate that Ed, but I've been putting up with Lt. Reed for years; I have a long list of examples of him being insubordinate – I'm just waiting for the best moment to spring it on him."

"I am a model officer," Reed said, just missing the next shot, having sunk the last two. "I am a pleasure to have on the bridge and you should consider yourself lucky to have me on your crew."

The Captain shook his hand, as if to say 'so-so'.

"You wound me, sir."

"Like that's hard." Tucker had appeared, making a bee-line for their little corner of the rec room, passed the karaoke session a few Sharks and Fleeters were having on the PlayStation. Which Hayes had accidentally knocked to the floor the day after they'd launched last year. Reed had come in while he, Walker, and Chang had been trying to get it to work, shooed them away from it and just cracked it open on the coffee table. He'd immediately been able to tell that it had fallen and decided to take it to a free table to repair it; he'd been joined pretty soon by Tucker and the Captain, and the three of them seemed to enjoy their little engineering project – though Hayes had had to put up with 'major' puns for the rest of the night from Tucker ("You did some major damage here", "this is going to need a major chunk of time to fix", "must have been a major fall from a major height"). It had been beyond repair, and Tucker and a few other engineers had ended up making one from scratch. Lately it seemed that Hayes couldn't so much as think about the PlayStation without remembering and cringing at how after a mere twenty-four hours onboard, he'd successfully convinced three of the senior staff that he was a Major Clumsy Oaf. Hayes should have known Tucker would show up at some point; the only member of the senior staff still on duty was Sato, having taken over command of the bridge. Which meant the rest of them, even Little Miss Stoicism, was bound to come to the rec room at some point in the evening. Hayes couldn't wait.

"I am made of hardy stuff."

"You're a delicate little flower."

"But we still love you," the Captain said, and even mix of placating and teasing.

"It's not returned, I find you all incredibly irritating."

Ayo dealt Tucker into the next hand, while the Captain threatened to kick Reed's ass at ping-pong. They were always hanging out when off duty; hell, the entire crew seemed to take turns hanging out with the Captain – karaoke, cards, pool, pick-up games in the gym, the Captain was always welcome. It was a habit the MACO contingent had adopted, to Hayes chagrin. Chagrin. Great, now he was adopting Reed's vocabulary. Hayes spent plenty of time with his own team, sure, but unless something was being organised by Ed or Mac, Hayes would have to invite himself. Mac had been the one to tell him earlier in the day that they were going to the rec room to play poker after dinner. He didn't think they disliked him hanging around, but it was a bit galling to have them favour the Fleeter Captain.

Okay, fine – it hurt.

There. How was that for not supressing his emotions. He had acknowledged it. Now it can fuck off.

"May I join you?"

No. "Of course, commander," Hayes said politely, as T'Pol took a seat and was dealt in. He hated playing poker with that pointy eared, stoic, perfect poker face-having, Vulcan. But he kept his face perfectly neutral, even as Reed joined them for the next hand, and Cutler for the next. This was getting too crowded for him; he excused himself from the game, saying he wanted to get an early night, and tried not to care that no one talked him out of it. Of course none of them minded, it's not like he was any fun lately anyway. Although Reed did remind him of his promise to show him the LR28s and made him agree to first thing in the morning.

T'Pol, why did she have to join? He thought as he walked back to his quarters. He had nothing against Vulcans in general, just that one: he knew full well that she thought he was stupid. A mindless, gun-toting space marine, that you pointed at what ever you wanted gone. That was all he was to her, her and Tucker. A tool without an actual brain. It was obvious from the way they looked at him when he approached, the way they always, always cut off their jargon filled conversations when he got too close – because he was too stupid to follow whatever the hell they were saying. Well, you know, obviously he couldn't follow what they were saying, he wasn't a warp engineer for crying out loud, but that didn't make them any better than him. And the way Tucker teared up at the drop of a hat, good lord, that man did not know how to compose himself! Probably thought Hayes was an emotionally stunted ogre, to top it all off. Well, he had that in common with Hayes' past shrinks, at any rate.

And Reed. Reed, God, who the hell did he think he was? Speaking to his CO like that? If Hayes tried that with any colonel, he'd be court martialled faster than you could say 'just kidding'. But no, Reed was the Captains Special Favourite – the amount of crap he could get away with was phenomenal. He'd been constantly questioning the Captain's orders in the Expanse, it was like he'd never even heard of the chain of command. What else was Hayes supposed to think, with that stupid mutiny he'd clearly been planning? In the end it was just more evidence for them that Hayes was the idiot. He'd been given an order, he followed it – how the hell had he been supposed to know that the Captain was being mind-controlled by baby bugs? At least he knew how to take an order and not just pick it apart like a certain lieutenant. Him, and Sato. The Captain's other Favourite. That gossipy, little brat, who knew and talked too damn much for her own God damn good. But hey, the Captain loved her. There was no other explanation as to why he let her take command shifts on the bridge – what did she know about command? The responsibility that it took? How the hell had she passed the bridge exam, anyway?

And what would you know? A nasty little voice in his head asked. How many times have you been passed over for Lt. colonel? The honest answer was not even once – he hadn't even been put forward for consideration. Can't be passed over if he's not even an option in the first place… Reed won't be passed over, he thought, bitterly. No way would the Captain allow that to happen. No, the lieutenant would be promoted to Lt. commander promptly, as soon as he's spent enough time in grade and service. As if the Captain would make him wait a day longer.

"Hi, major!"

Hayes looked up, jerked out of his reverie. "Evening, ma'am."

Ensign Sato was walking towards him, a bright smile on her face. "I just got off duty, handed the bridge back to the Captain for the night." So that's where he went. She pointed back the way he'd came. "Did you just come from the rec room?"

"Yes ma'am, just left."

"That boring, huh?" She teased.

"I wouldn't say that, ma'am."

Sato looked at him for a long moment before saying "You do know you can call me Hoshi, right? I mean, anyone who saves my life can use my first name as far as I'm concerned."

"Old habits," Hayes said after a moment. He didn't offer his own first name in return. It's not like he used it, anyway.

Hoshi was quiet for a long beat before speaking again. "Is everything okay? With you, I mean." Her face was scrunched up in concern. She did, Hayes had to admit, look very kind just then. "It's just you've seemed really quiet the last couple of months, and I wanted to check in. I don't think I've seen much of you since we left space dock."

Now she wanted to check in? Right. Reed definitely squealed. "I'm fine ma-Hoshi," he answered shortly, catching himself just in time. "Can't complain."

She didn't seem convinced, but, to Hayes' surprise, not like she was fishing for information. Crap, she's actually concerned. Hayes felt deflated. And every bit the stupid boor T'Pol probably thought he was. After insisting he was fine, he managed to shake her, and continued towards the turbolift. He could feel her eyes boring into his back as he walked away.

Stupid, stupid, stupid… he cringed all the way back to his quarters at what he had been just thinking about her when he practically ran her over. Okay, fine, he was nowhere near her, but still. He felt like an ass. He was an ass. She'd been nothing but kind to him ever since he'd set foot on the Enterprise, and without her they'd never have even been able to talk to the Xindi, never mind stop the weapon. She'd been a lot more vital than he'd been, considering he'd been put out of commission at a vital moment and that didn't even give anyone any pause. Hell, his team would never have so much as been able to find their way around the ship if it wasn't for her – after they all kept getting lost, she'd convinced Reed and the Captain to hold a scavenger hunt by pairing each MACO with a Fleeter. Hayes had thought it was the dumbest idea he'd ever heard. He still did. What were they, ten years old? But surprisingly they'd had more than enough Starfleet volunteers, and Reed, T'Pol, and Sato – Hoshi – had worked hard on those clues and riddles. And then, afterwards in the mess hall they'd all been milling around, talking away, and it seemed like the only one who wasn't more relaxed around the Starfleet folks had been him. And they'd stopped getting lost as much.

He stated thinking about the PlayStation again. Tucker hadn't even let him apologise for breaking the damn thing, insisting that it was on its last legs anyway – it had fallen to the ground so many times for various reasons, he'd really just euthanised it; the new one was a nice relaxing side-project for Tucker and whoever wanted to help him; he wasn't to worry too much about it. And he hadn't, so why was he obsessing over the stupid console now?

Making it to his quarters didn't make him feel any better. It had been cleaned up – by Reed, he reminded himself – but he knew what had happened here. And what he'd said… And after that, it looked like Reed was still keeping it from the Captain. He ran a hand threw his hair as he sat down on the edge of his bed, kicking off his boots. He leaned forward and sighed, burying his face in his hands. If the captain found out Reed was covering for him, Reed was a dead man. If the lieutenant had any self-preservation instincts whatsoever (and after serving with him for a year, Hayes had his doubts) Reed would have told the Captain immediately. He wouldn't have hooked him up with Phlox and kept his mouth shut. Especially after last night. What even was the point of keeping it as blackmail? The Captain was savvy enough to realise that that's what Reed was doing if he ended up telling him a few weeks or months down the line, and that would probably end worse for Reed than if he was actually covering for him. The Captain would end his career. He was a pretty fair man, if Hayes had to be perfectly honest. Shame and guilt washed over him over what he had literally just been thinking about the Captain. Sure, he was obviously very fond of Reed, but he also rode him harder than any other officer.

That's what being groomed for command looks like. The nasty voice was back. Hayes told it to fuck off and went to put his boots away. Neatly in bottom of his closet. Everything in his quarters was neat: PADDs stacked perfectly on his desk; the chair pushed in, no clothes laid over it, no, his grandparents would have gone nuts; a framed photo of his grandparents and full siblings on the shelf above his bunk; another one of him and Harper's three kids. Both Parker and Elliot had kids as well, but he didn't have a recent picture of them. Couldn't really blame them for not wanting their drunken brother around their kids too often. Hell, they'd never even allowed their kids in a car he was driving – even after being sober for ten years, not a single member of his family would get in a car with him.

And that was it. He had nothing else in his quarters. He could pack in ten minutes, fill one bag, and leave no trace.

Not that anyone would miss him.

Why was he even here?

"Good morning, major."

Lt. Pretty Eyes' greeting was almost perky as Hayes entered the training suite where Reed was waiting for him.

"Good morning, lieutenant." Coming to stand by him he saw that Reed had already laid out the LR28, but it didn't look like he had stripped it down or tried to remove its power source. At least he waited. Hayes quickly went over the rifle itself: structure, settings, and most importantly, safety features. He spent a good deal of time on those – he knew Reed was a stickler for safety and usually wouldn't touch the MACOs ordinance until Hayes had given him a run through. After that it was a free for all; Hayes had quickly realised that can you show me this was Reed for I want to take this apart without accidently blowing myself up and I need you to give me the cliff notes before I just go ahead and do it. Hayes was even more anal when it came to health and safety, but he was still pretty slow to reach for the adorably oversized ear protectors that Reed favoured whenever he was running weapons tests. Hayes still wore ear protection, but Reed always went straight for the large, red ones; having them on made him feel more secure. Seeing them on made Hayes melt. And the goggles. God, did he love the goggles.

He could see that Reed had a million more questions about the rifle that he was holding back, so Hayes started peppering in some of the things he knew about its power source that he thought Reed might find impressive. He'd actually ended up talking to one of the engineers who worked on it during the seminar and remembering some of the questions that Reed and Tucker had asked during the training sessions with the senior staff (that he embarrassingly hadn't been able to answer), had ended up quizzing the poor woman for nearly an hour. All to impress his infuriating, smart ass of a boss. Tucker too. But mainly Reed. Dammit. He was too old for a stupid crush. Or maybe he wasn't; he didn't really remember much of his teenage years or twenties; what had that therapist said? Alcoholics are often immature due to not experiencing regular teenage crap as teenagers? So, they do it when they're older?

Yeah, that sounded like him. Forty God damn six and he was crushing on a man fifteen years younger than him, but who seemed so much more put together and sure of himself. Let's see how fast he loses that confidence if he were separated from the Captain and Tucker, Hayes thought bitterly. Easy to be confident when you know your CO and the second officer is going to adhere to your every whim. Like a puppy they can't say no to. Wouldn't last ten minutes in MACO...

Where had that come from? Hayes gave himself a quick internal shake; he'd woken up in a much better mood than when he'd gone to bed, wincing at some – all – of the things he'd been thinking about the Fleeters last night. He had to shake this off; he and Reed had been at loggerheads at the beginning, but it was a lot better now; they'd made it better. He'd be damned if he was going to ruin it. He'd be damned if he gave Reed an excuse to rat him out to the Captain.

"Did you swallow the manual?" Reed teased, as Hayes was showing him how to adjust the sight to get a target lock.

"Of course not," Hayes responded. "I just have a natural instinct when it comes to weapons."

Reed just grinned but remained silent. He got off three shots in a row at what the Fleeters called the Evil Disco Ball but missed the fourth. "You're crack shot, I'll admit that much. But the internal mechanics are not your forte."

An unwanted memory of an angry Reed schooling him in how his own equipment worked, in front of the rest of the MACOs, entered his mind. What made it worse was that Hayes had just tried to school the lieutenant on proper handling of the explosive, after he'd found Reed with his head bent over it. Reed probably would have just explained what he was doing, but no, Hayes just had to try and make a power play and an extra condescending one at that. Let Reed know just how much more he capable he was than him. Like the jackass he was.

No. Stop it Hayes. You are with Reed, you are in the training suite, he just complimented you and you are going to take it gracefully, he told himself sternly. You are going to adjust his grip slightly without seeming like a creeper, and you are going to continue to have a nice time.

"I'm going to ignore that last bit, and just say thank you; you're not too bad yourself." Reed hit five in a row. "Nice."

They continued like that for a while, with Reed improving dramatically by the end; as he normally did whenever Hayes had given him a tutorial on MACO weaponry. They chatted while they practiced, and Hayes found himself trying to remember the last time they'd spoken to each other like this. With a jolt, he realised that it was probably before his injury; they exchanged a couple of messages in the three months the Enterprise had been undergoing repairs, and the Fleeters had been undergoing psych evals on Earth, but that was it. The message Reed had sent him the night before his own was just a list of reasons the counsellor was going to have him committed; reason number four had been Deathly allergic to pineapple. Will consume large quantities with a spoon in one hand and epi pen in the other. The next day, Hayes had gone out and bought a pineapple shaped pillow to give to Reed on his birthday. Hayes liked its smiley face.

They started discussing their time on Earth, and Hayes realised uncomfortably that he had never actually asked Reed how his time off had been. He hadn't even thought about it, apart from the couple of times Reed had sent him a message; his insides squirmed as he became conscious that Reed had been the one to reach out both times, and Hayes hadn't even bothered to reply promptly.

"It was rather unsettling," Reed said, putting down the LR28 for a second. "I hadn't realised that racism and xenophobia were so prevalent on Earth; or maybe it wasn't, and the situation did get worse while we were in the Expanse." He had just finished telling Hayes about the racists that had accosted Phlox in the 602 club. "Of course, everyone was so shocked that I was still in the closet last year and that I knew so many bigots, so maybe I've just never noticed it before." He turned pensive. "I'm glad Phlox didn't let it affect him too much, and he won't experience it onboard, but still." He looked up at Hayes, biting his bottom lip. "If that's the state of things, I'm just worried we're going backwards a little bit."

"It'll die down," Hayes tried to reassure him, resisting the urge to reach out and grab his hand. "People are still shaken over the attack."

"But people have been accosted, though," Reed said. "That's not the version of humanity I was saving."

Hayes didn't have an answer for him. "Phlox is fine; I'm sure he appreciated you and Mayweather defending him."

"No, I don't think he did." Reed looked a bit sheepish. "I may have gotten a tad upset, and… tackled one of them."

Hayes rolled his eyes. "Of course you did. Let me guess: he had about half a foot of height on you, and you tackled him anyway."

"So how was your vacation?" Reed tried to change the subject. And Hayes did not like the new topic. What was he meant to say? Lasted a month before hitting a bar, two weeks after that while he was busy shooting inanimate objects, and then pretty much went on a bender every second or third weekend after that for the next two months? That he briefly saw his whole family at his paternal grandparents – even Nancy, sorry, mom, and Frank had turned up with Carter and Finn – and he'd been panicked the entire time that they would realise he was drinking again? That only Harper would let him near her kids unsupervised? He supposed he should be grateful that they'd never cut him out, not even Parker, not even after what happened with Valerie. He'd managed to stay off the booze the whole week he'd stayed with his grandparents but couldn't bring himself to stay any longer because he was paranoid that they'd realise how much he was craving it and kick him out. He remembered the last time they'd found out he was drinking again… he couldn't bear to see that look on their faces; that mix of shame and disappointment. But they wouldn't be surprised. They never were.

"It was fine, saw the family. But you really need to stop tackling people; you're too little."

"Little!" Reed was aghast. "Big words from a man who's not exactly looking down his nose at me."

"You're going to have to speak up, I can't hear you down there."

Reed scoffed, but uncharacteristically didn't fire a shot back. Their relationship had evolved over the months from Reed being afraid Hayes was trying to take his position, into annoyed attempts to compromise, to genuine attempts to compromise, to good natured snarking.

"Are we okay?" Reed asked suddenly.

"I'm sorry?"

"It's just I don't think we've actually talked to one another, not really talked, in the last two months; which is quite the feat, considering we're stuck on a star ship together and work side by side most days. I thought we'd…" He shrugged. "I thought we had some kind of friendly thing going on."

"You thought we were friends?" Hayes teased.

"Of course not, you're far too irritating," Reed shot back, a mischievous look in his eyes. "But working together seemed a lot easier before the end of the mission, and now…" He shrugged again. "I rely on you fighting me on security and tactical a lot more than I was willing to admit, I need you're perspective; and you've been far too agreeable lately."

Hayes clammed up. What the hell was he trying to get at. "And why is that a problem, sir?"

Reed took a breath before replying. "After what happened the other day –"

"What happened the other day was a once off," Hayes snapped. "I have not had a drop of alcohol aboard this vessel before, or since." Not quite true, but Hayes didn't count that glass of wine. "I've done what you've asked, I'm speaking to Phlox; the matter is settled."

"Not until Phlox clears you for away missions."

What? "Sir," Hayes stared at Reed, flabbergasted. "You're confining me to the ship?"

"You're still allowed shore leave," Reed assured him. "But I've been thinking, and I've grown quite concerned for you since we came back; I think it for the best. For the time being," he added quickly. "I have every confidence that you'll be back in the field, so to speak, in no time."

"Of course, sir."

Reed looked pained. "Please don't shut down on me; I know this is the exact opposite of what you wanted to hear but you haven't seemed yourself lately and I'm not the only one worried."

Hayes swallowed and looked away. "You don't need to worry, lieutenant," he said, turning back to Reed. "I've got everything under control."

"I have every faith in you, but I'm here if you need any extra support –"

"Thank you, sir, I appreciate it."

Reed nodded, looking uneasy. Well, what did he expect? That Hayes was just going to bear his soul? Extra support… how the hell could he support Hayes? He was going to do this on his God damn own, like he always did, and he wasn't going to let some little Baby Gay that he'd had to explain what a Twink was to dictate how he was going to – to – what exactly? What had Reed just offered? Help him. He wanted to help him. He had no idea what he had just offered, not really. He had no idea how much fucking work Hayes was. His own family could barely make the effort anymore. Even after he'd gotten sober…

Could he tell him? Maybe even just confess how alone and lonely he was? No. No, that was out of the question; his position on the Enterprise was already hanging on by a thread as it was. He was not going to give him anything even resembling a reason to have him thrown off. They spent the rest of the time in near silence, all conversation strictly related to the LR28.

But did he really want to be here? I mean, really? If you asked him last week, he would have said that Reed was the only one who liked him. If you asked him yesterday, he would have said that Reed was an annoying little shit with Napoleon Syndrome who was lording his drinking problem over him. What the hell was wrong with him?

Hayes didn't make eye contact with Reed again. He was too much of a coward.