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x-x

Malcolm followed the others from the shuttle, still a bit bleary despite his nap on the way back. He could feel his headache, stronger now, and a sense of pressure along the bridge of his nose and through his sinuses. Best if he could get the formalities here in the shuttle bay over with quickly, so he could get back to his quarters and rest or, if needs must, even go to sickbay and see if he could get stronger medications than those which he'd already taken.

The landing party stood just at the door, and Malcolm stayed behind the group as they bantered. He didn't bother trying to keep up with what was being discussed.

Archer said something which elicited a laugh from the others, and he gave Travis a firm pat on the shoulder before he left the bay.

Eyes on the door, Malcolm was just about to leave himself when Hoshi laughed loudly. The noise caught him by surprise, and he turned back only to see someone - not human - standing beside her. Heart racing, hand already moving to where his weapon would be were he wearing one, he blinked, and the alien was gone.

Fully alert now, he turned to the others. They were still laughing at whatever Hoshi had said. They'd obviously not seen anything.

Hoshi caught his eye, and she frowned. "Are you okay?" she asked, seeming concerned.

Malcolm felt the eyes of the group move to him, and he had to stop himself from actually taking a step back. Instead he answered, keeping his tone purposefully even, "Yes, sorry. Headache." He forced his attention to the scene before him, trying hard not to think of what he'd just seen - or thought he'd seen. He must be far more tired than he thought. Just to be sure, he'd check the sensor logs on his way back to the bridge. One could never be too careful. He willed his shoulders to relax and his breathing to even out.

Trip stepped beside him and patted him on the back. "Listen," he said, eyes moving from Malcolm, to Hoshi, to Travis. "I think we could all use a little fun. So tonight, the observation lounge, a little poker, a few beers. You in?"

"You kidding?" Hoshi replied. "Absolutely."

Travis, crossing his arms over his chest, seemed hesitant. He bit his lip. "Ah..."

Hoshi suddenly looked apologetic, and Malcolm remembered Trip mentioning that she had beat the hell out of Travis in their last game. She had also, apparently, beat Trip. And he'd heard rumour of her soundly trouncing Rostov, who was reputed to be quite the card sharp himself.

Trip winced, and nodded. "This'll be low stakes. Playing for snacks, all right?"

Travis nodded, still seeming a bit reluctant.

"Eight o'clock, then," Trip replied. "Malcolm?"

After a moment's thought, Malcolm nodded. Although normally he'd tend to avoid socializing with junior officers such as Travis and Hoshi, he needed the distraction. He was tired, and his headache certainly was not helping matters, and those two things were likely causing him to... He decided to stop that train of thought before it could progress.

He'd get some sleep before the game, as there were a good three hours before then, and he'd be right as rain. As the others left the shuttle bay, he followed them out and headed for the armoury. He promised himself that, if the logs showed nothing unusual, he'd head directly to his quarters.

He'd get some rest. He'd play some poker. He'd be fine.

x-x

Malcolm stood before the mirror in his shower room, eyes narrowing as he stared at the face in the mirror. Dark hair, fair skin, blue eyes - all in order. He looked all right. Tired, certainly a bit stressed, but otherwise normal. But despite outward appearances and his own best efforts, he wasn't sure that in fact he was.

Reaching down, he triggered the water and splashed some over his face. The voices had spooked him, and then he'd seen the alien, if that's what it was... It couldn't be, though, as no one else had seen it, and nothing had shown in the logs. Still, he could remember the face of it, almost insect-like, its dark, shiny -

Rubbing his face roughly with the towel, he forced those thoughts from his mind. He was simply tired, and his headache was getting to him. Refusing to look at his reflection again, he threw his towel into the corner and started undressing. He'd just pulled off his shirt when he heard it.

"Malcolm."

He froze, shirt clenched in his hand as his breath caught. It was that same bloody voice, whispering his name. When it didn't come again, he stepped into his bedroom. He let his eyes get used to the dim light, then move slowly over every object, peer into every corner. Nothing. He went to re-enter his lav when he heard it again.

"Malcolm."

It was coming from the shower. He let the shirt fall to the floor, then raised his hands, ready to defend himself. He approached the frosted glass of the shower enclosure slowly, his boots making only the slightest sound against the deck. Reaching out one hand toward the door handle, he heard the voice say, "We're here for you," and he stopped, hand jerking back as if burnt. It was the first time the voice had said anything other than his name, but it was still speaking too softly for him to distinguish if it was male or female. A tremor ran through his frame as he cautiously placed a hand on the handle. "It's time," the voice whispered again. It was quiet, but it was definitely coming from within the shower.

Heart beating madly, Malcolm jerked open the door and it flew back and hit the wall with a bang.

There was nothing there.

Unable to control his shaking, he leaned against the doorframe with his head down. He sucked in a ragged breath. He should go see Phlox. Go see... someone. This couldn't be happening. Something was wrong. But God, no. If he saw a doctor for something like this, he'd either be laughed from the room or never allowed to leave.

Maybe he was just tired.

The voice came again, "Malcolm," whispering his name, and he reacted before he could stop himself.

"What do you want!" he roared out, hands clenched, face to the ceiling. When no response came, he huffed a quiet laugh. Of course. Of course.

x-x

Brushing a quick hand through his hair, Malcolm triggered the door for the observation lounge. It opened to reveal a small table in the middle of the tiny room, chairs around it, with a stack of cards in its middle and a pile of bags beside it. The small room was made more crowded with Travis and Trip standing in the only free space left, that by the observation port.

Trip turned to him with a smile and a hearty, "Malcolm!" Trip obviously hadn't thought he'd show, and based on his past refusals of similar invitations, and his professed beliefs that he, as a superior officer, should not be overly social with more junior staff, he could certainly understand why. But tonight was different.

Hoshi came up behind him, giving him a gentle shove to push him through the doorway. As she slid past him, she smiled, then turned to the others, raising the bag in her hand as she did so. "I've brought the chocolate," she said in a portentous voice. "We can begin."

Malcolm felt the heat rising to his cheeks when he realised what was in the bags beside the table. In his distraction, he'd forgotten to bring his own contribution. "I'm sorry," he started, and Hoshi's smile softened.

She leaned in toward him and whispered, as if the others weren't close enough to hear, "Don't worry, you can share mine."

At that, Travis piped in, also sotto voce, "Yeah. She'll only just win 'em back, anyway."

Malcolm returned their smiles, and joined them as they settled at the table. He was right to come here; it was a welcome distraction. It had taken some time after the incident in his shower, but he'd finally managed to get some sleep. Probably not as much as he needed, but still, enough to make himself feel a bit more balanced. He nodded at Trip as the man began dealing the cards. Nothing odd had happened since he'd woken, so hopefully, the sleep had taken care of it. It has certainly taken care of his headache. Still, he felt tense, on edge. It was as if he was waiting for the next thing to happen, whatever that might be.

Once everyone finally had their cards, they began the process of playing the game. He'd picked up a piece of chocolate from the pile Hoshi had donated to his cause and was about to place a bet when he noticed a sudden movement from across the table, just over Trip's shoulder. It was gone as quickly as it had come, and he forced his eyes back to his cards, trying to keep his hand from trembling.

No, he thought, absolutely refusing to believe that it was starting again. Whatever it had been, no one else had seen it. Hoshi, beside him, was staring right at Trip, bantering with him, teasing him about his hand, and even she hadn't noticed anything. A trick of the light, then, he thought, consciously trying to relax his fingers as they held the cards; his knuckles had gone white, his fingers were so rigid.

The movement came again, this time from beside Trip. Head going up in a flash, Malcolm saw the alien there, the same one from earlier. The creature was staring at him. As he watched, it lifted one appendage, and Malcolm caught the glint of metal in its grip. It thrust the object down toward Trip.

Before Malcolm could even think, he'd pushed himself forward and shot toward the invader, crashing through the table, cards flying up and everywhere. The alien shifted to the side, faster than a human could, so fast that the movement blurred, and Malcolm steadied himself and raised an arm to strike. He felt a sharp tug to his shoulder. Someone pulled him back. He swung around, barely stopping himself when he realised it was Trip.

"What are you doing?" Trip asked, voice ringing loud in the sudden silence. Trip held his arm in a firm hand, alarm and confusion warring in his expression.

Malcolm's eyes flitted from Trip, to Hoshi, to Travis, and back to Trip. It was gone. Where had it -?

The dark shape was there again, next to Trip. Malcolm struggled, eyes only for the alien, and he made to launch himself toward it. Someone shouted his name and he felt strong arms grab his waist and pull him back. He looked over his shoulder and saw Travis.

Trip said something to Hoshi and, eyes wide, she went to the comm. on the wall, speaking into it hastily. What she said was lost in the pound of blood through his veins, filling his ears. The alien was - it was there, behind Hoshi, now. Adrenaline rushing through his body, Malcolm bent and pulled, throwing his guard off-balance enough to twist of out his grip. He dove toward the dark thing, but felt himself yanked away again, violently spun and shoved aside. Then he was grabbed. Someone shouted his name and he responded with a wordless groan, struggling madly to get away, to get back to the invader, to protect the ship and his crewmates.

He broke away again. He was heading for the alien when he felt pressure against his upper arm, and the world swirled around him as he fell.

x-x

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