"Can you believe Phlox tattled on us?" Trip chuckled as they made their way back down to B Deck. "Talk about a code of silence. See if I go there again!"

"He was just giving the captain a detailed report on our health. What the captain inferred from the lesions on your neck and back is his business."

They laughed at the image of Archer going over Phlox's report with a fine-toothed comb, trying to find a cause for the scratches and the hickey, and said goodnight in high spirits.

Malcolm walked the last few metres to his own quarters thinking about their reluctance to give their relationship a real emotional component. They hadn't really talked about it, and Malcolm hadn't even noticed that it was missing until just then. They'd never spent the night, or embraced just because they felt like it. As Malcolm keyed in the code to his rooms, he made a mental note to attempt to change that.

Malcolm was no stranger to erotic dreams. They were something he actually enjoyed most of the time, so whenever he had one that he still remembered when he woke up, he took the time to write it down. He used a real paper diary for that, since he was pretty sure Section 31 still monitored his personal logs. When he woke up the day after that talk with the captain, Malcolm was almost painfully hard. In his dream, he and Trip had made love under the stars. There had been a beach and everything. Terribly tacky as it sounded, Malcolm had seldom been so aroused by a dream. It had felt so real. To the point where he thought he could smell the heady scent of sex, taste the commander's lips. The weird thing was that he had no way of knowing how it would feel to be with Trip like that. While they hadn't actually decided to wait, the time just hadn't been right yet. Malcolm blushed as he got out his book and pen from beneath his pillow and hastily scrawled down the details of that encounter. Once he was done, he checked his watch to make sure he wasn't late for his shift, then allowed his hand to wrap around his hardness while he let the scene from his dream replay in his mind. He barely got to the point where Trip buried himself in Malcolm, mouth parted, eyes locked with his lover's, before he felt the familiar tightening in his belly that heralded his climax. Malcolm gave himself over to his fantasy, enjoying the way dream-Trip felt against and inside his body. The waves of pleasure were still rolling over him, when he heard the chime of the comm. Malcolm pushed the button almost without thinking. "Reed here." He realised that his voice sounded slightly thick and husky, so he cleared his throat and sat up, trying to make himself sound more serious. He needn't have bothered, for it was Trip calling, and his grin was very audible when he said: "Morning, lover. Did I interrupt something?"

Face burning, Malcolm pulled off his shirt to clean off, while he cast around for an answer that wouldn't give the American even more cause to gloat. He didn't have to know that he had caught Malcolm wanking to a dream about him. "Not at all, I was just about to jump into the shower, that's all."

Years of working for Section 31 had made him quite good at lying, but be could tell that Trip wasn't buying it. The other man chuckled richly. "Take your time. I just wanted to let you know I'll be heading down to breakfast in a little while. Maybe you'd like to join me?"

"Sure. See you there in a bit. Reed out."

Malcolm rubbed his eyes wearily, feeling kind of awkward about his recent activities. Then he discarded the rest of his clothing and went into the bathroom to shower.

Feeling refreshed after his hot shower, Malcolm made his way to the mess hall, expecting to see Trip waiting there, but finding the room almost empty. He ordered a cup of tea and grabbed a platter of breakfast foods from the display case, then sat down with an eye on the door. The next person to enter, however, still wasn't the commander, but Hoshi. She smiled happily and joined him with her own breakfast. "Good morning, Lieutenant. How's your tea?"

Malcolm took a swig and nodded. "Not quite the same as back on earth, to be honest, but it'll do the trick."

Hoshi laughed and launched into an account of the languages in the Vulcan ship's database and how she was hoping to get permission to study them. "It would help us a great deal with our mission. I mean, we've fared well enough with what little we know about alien languages, but the Vulcans just have such a head start on us."

Malcolm nodded, tucking into his eggs. "Well, they have been in deep space a lot longer, but I wouldn't be so sure that they have gathered significantly more data on other cultures. They seem to be quite quick to judge species based on mere glimpses of their lives. I'm sure you'll be able to learn more about any species by analysing their languages than they could hope to achieve by watching them for years."

Hoshi blushed somewhat and poked at her food. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. I just hope I don't let everyone down."

"Impossible," Malcolm smiled, "you're the best Starfleet has to offer."

Hoshi seemed a little embarrassed, but grinned. At that moment, the doors hissed open again and Trip entered, looking at the pair of them and lifting an eyebrow, before he got himself a cup of coffee and joined them at their table.

"Is that all you're having?" Malcolm greeted him, gesturing at the steaming mug.

Trip raised his beverage to his lips, but didn't drink, regarding Malcolm in a way that made him tingle pleasantly all over. "You know me. I have to work up an appetite first. It would seem YOU already have."

Malcolm almost choked on a bite of sausage. How could Hoshi not notice that blatant flirting?

"Will you be joining us on the bridge today, Commander?" Hoshi asked, seemingly oblivious to the way Trip was now rubbing his knee against Malcolm's thigh.

"Would that I could, Hoshi," he demurred. "But with the repairs to the Vahklas, I just haven't been able to spend enough time with my own engine. She doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"Oh, of course your engine is a woman. Makes sense." Hoshi had finished her cereal and rose to leave. "Just be sure to call her in the morning." With a last wink for the duo, she left the mess hall. The two officers stared after her for a second, then looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"I think she fancies you," Malcolm teased, as he finished off his breakfast.

"I was just gonna say that she was into you," Trip shot back gleefully.

"Well, either way, she'll be disappointed when she finds out we like blokes now."

Trip looked at him levelly. "I don't. All I know for certain is that I like one bloke ... you."

Malcolm couldn't stop his heart from beating faster at that confession, and his hand reached out for Trip's almost on its own. The other man's sheepish expression made him smile.

"Aren't you worried that someone will notice?" Trip asked incredulously.

Malcolm shook his head. "I don't think they'd care. Besides, the captain already knows, what are a few crewmen compared to that?"

Smiling, Trip squeezed his lover's hand. "It's still kind of surreal to me that he actually knows."

"And that he was so cool about it." Malcolm carried his tray over to the proper station, and they left the mess hall together.

Trip shrugged. "Why wouldn't he be? I mean, he must have been confused when he found out, but in the end, he just wants us to be happy."

"He said that?" Trip looked up from the couplings he was realigning.

Malcolm leaned against the hatch of the nearest maintenance shaft and nodded. "He did. He wants the two of us to join him for breakfast tomorrow at 0800. What do you think we should do?"

Trip gave him a slightly nonplussed look. "I think we should go."

Detecting the agitation in the lieutenant's manner, Trip put away his tools and moved over to where Malcolm was standing. Supporting himself against the wall with one hand, he placed his other on the shorter man's arm, squeezing gently. "Come on, Malcolm, what's the deal here? You've had breakfast with the captain before, so why the hesitation?"

Malcolm, feeling rather trapped, tried to avoid his lover's eyes.

"Don't play games with me, Malcolm, I'm too busy right now. Spit it out." He withdrew his hand to rest on his hip, making him look very impatient indeed.

Heaving a sigh, Malcolm gave in. "Alright. I'm worried about what this meeting will entail. Captain Archer tends to get rather inquisitive about his crew's personal lives. I don't think I'm prepared for another show and tell about our relationship."

Trip lowered his head, and Malcolm saw his shoulders twitch. And indeed, the commander's sexiest crooked smile was plastered onto his features when their eyes met again. "Malcolm, I care about you, and I wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable." His hand cupped the side of his neck gently, making Malcolm feel a warm tingle throughout his body. "That being said, the captain is one of my closest friends on this ship, and I am gonna tell him stuff."

Malcolm was just about to protest, when Trip silenced him with a kiss. It was soft, and over in a second, but it managed to drop Malcolm's defences like a proton burst against polarised hull plating. Clearing his throat, Malcolm readjusted his uniform and left engineering, his legs still wobbly. He would have to trust that Trip wouldn't divulge anything personal. But he wasn't entirely clear on how much detail that entailed. He'd have to get some more information on the workings of the American brain. Struck by a sudden inspiration, he went through his options quickly, dismissing Hoshi, Phlox and T'Pol immediately, until finally, he was left with just one name.

He approached the nearest comm panel. "Reed to Ensign Mayweather."

A/N: I know Malcolm's first breakfast with the captain is in the second season episode "Minefield", but I went slightly off-canon on that, since it was easier to write