We're getting close to the end... thank you very much for reviewing!

If you'd like to know more about the young man living in Malcolm's quarters, please check out my story "Stinky" (posted here and at the Warp 5 Complex).

This chapter is for Glory1863, who named Watchdog and taught Porthos about saving the pride :).

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Chapter 28

Malcolm's quarters were immaculately neat, just like Trip remembered them. Malcolm's hair was still slightly damp as he opened the door; apparently, he had only just showered and changed after his work-out.

The Englishman smiled and stepped back so Trip could enter. "Please."

Trip followed him inside, and almost stumbled when something warm and soft brushed against his leg. He glanced down and found that Malcolm's roommate, a young calico cat, was greeting him in the feline fashion, rubbing his speckled head against Trip's pants.

"Hey Stinky," Trip said, bent down and picked up the cat. "Looks like someone's grown while we were gone. This guy used to fit into my hand."

"I hardly recognized him myself," Malcolm said. "Travis has been taking care of him for me, and he said that it was more like feeding a small tiger. Take a seat," he added, nodding at the small sofa.

"Thanks." Trip carried Stinky over to the sofa and lowered himself onto the cushions, the cat settling on his lap as soon as he was sitting. "Well, growin' boys need their food, don't they?"

Malcolm grinned as he returned from his kitchen unit with two glasses and a bottle. "I suppose so. Although I hope that he won't grow too much, or these quarters won't be big enough for the two of us."

Trip scratched the cat behind the ears, smiling at Stinky's trademark lawn mower-like purr. "He's got large paws."

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "Yes, he does."

"Large paws usually mean that a cat's going to be big when it's fully grown."

Malcolm sighed and opened the bottle. "Well, at least he's house-trained now."

Trip grinned. Despite Malcolm's air of long-suffering patience, he could see right through the man. Malcolm was more than happy to have his feline friend back.

Petting Stinky, Trip watched as Malcolm poured them a glass of scotch each, and remembered the day when he had come here to share a nightcap and had discovered a small kitten hidden in Malcolm's locker. Of course, Malcolm couldn't keep it a secret for long that he had smuggled a cat aboard, and soon Stinky had been officially introduced to the rest of the crew, including Porthos. Poor mutt had been horrified to find himself face to face with a tiny, puffed-up ball of spitting and hissing trouble.

Trip grinned, satisfied that he remembered the encounter down to every detail. Eventually, Porthos had backed away, tail between his legs, and Stinky had presented his shoulder to the dog, beginning to lick it in an almost regal manner. From that day on, there was no doubt who was the "superior officer" of the two.

"Here," Malcolm said and handed Trip one of the glasses. Ice cubes tinkled against each other inside the amber liquid.

"Thanks." Trip accepted the glass, waiting until Malcolm had lifted his as well. "Why don't you give us a toast?"

Malcolm thought about it for a moment, then he raised his glass. "To times to come."

Trip smiled, clinked his glass against Malcolm's and took a sip. The scotch left a burning trail in his throat.

"Good stuff."

Malcolm nodded. "I won it in a bet."

"What was the bet about?"

A brief hesitation. "I have absolutely no idea," Malcolm said then. He swirled the liquid in his glass, creating a tiny whirlpool. "I'm sure it'll come back to me, though." He raised his head. "Phlox said that everything will come back, eventually. It's only a matter of time."

"Yeah," Trip nodded. "It's kinda strange though..." He trailed off, not sure how to put his thoughts into words. Something about a sense of belonging, he supposed, although that would sound terribly schmaltzy, said out loud.

"Sometimes..." Malcolm hesitated as well. "You know, sometimes I feel as if I have the memories of two different people. There's Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, and... well, I don't know. I can't say that I feel like I am the same person I was back there."

"Maybe we're not," Trip said, taking another sip from his glass. The scotch was strong and he could feel his head growing light. He should probably slow down a little. "I mean, it's hard to grasp, that we were alive in a time when we weren't even born. Us, I mean, Commander Charles Tucker and Lieutenant Malcolm Reed. Maybe those two people back there were someone else, and we only have their memories."

"I don't think T'Pol would agree with you on that," Malcolm said, staring into his glass.

"T'Pol doesn't officially agree that there is such a thing as time travel. An' no one really knows how it works. I don't even think Daniels really understands it."

"In that case, the rebels who abducted us do have a point. People should keep their hands off things they don't understand. I don't like the idea of the fate of the universe in the hands of amateurs."

Trip grinned at Malcolm's dry tone. "Me neither."

Stinky, who had been dozing, opened his eyes and gave Trip a searching look, as if trying to remember whose lap he had fallen asleep in. He yawned and suddenly rolled over, presenting them his orange-and-black underside.

Trip laughed. "Someone's feelin' cuddly today."

He began to stroke the cat's soft belly, wondering what Malcolm's little smirk was about when suddenly eighteen claws buried themselves in his skin, and two strong hindlegs began to kick his forearm.

"Ow! Stinky!"

Malcolm was laughing so hard that some of his scotch sloshed over the rim of the glass. Trip managed to disentangle his hand from the cat's grip, to Stinky's obvious disappointment.

"That was sneaky," he said to both of them.

Malcolm grinned, not in the least repentant. "He always does that when he wants to play fight. Though I usually wrap a towel around my hand first."

Trip gave him a mock scowl. "Well, it's not as if I knew that I was gonna be mauled here."

Stinky, resigning to the fact that Trip wasn't going to "play fight", levered himself to his feet and arched his back, then jumped off the couch and walked over to his feeding dish.

Malcolm looked after him with an almost wistful expression. "He really has grown, hasn't he?"

Trip was about to make a quip about Malcolm sounding like a doting father when he noticed the look in the other man's eyes.

"Yeah," he said instead. "Feels like we were gone a lot longer, doesn't it?"

Malcolm nodded. "It must've been longer than four months. I didn't really keep track of the weeks, back at River Valley, but I'm sure we were there longer than that."

"Daniels told Jon that we might've been there for more than four months," Trip said. "Something about time not bein' a linear constant. It's possible that we spent a few more months there than actually passed in this time."

Malcolm shook his head. "I'll admit that I find all of this hard to understand. I'm not even sure how they detected our presence." He met Trip's eyes. "Did or didn't we cause Lendon's death? Because if we didn't, it means that they could not have detected us. Which means that we're still back in 2048."

Trip sighed. "Well, we are here, that's for sure. Maybe we switched timelines, if that's possible. To be frank, I've no idea."

"A knot in time." Malcolm chuckled. "T'Pol would have a field day with the logical implications."

"I can see why the Vulcans refuse to believe in time travel," Trip said. "It's not exactly somethin' you can explain logically."

"It's equally illogical to deny the existence of something just because you don't understand it." Malcolm took a sip from his glass. "It reminds of the time when humans believed Earth was flat or denied evolution."

"Don't let T'Pol hear that."

Malcolm smirked. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Trip leaned back on the couch, enjoying the feeling of relaxation that came with the scotch. The enforced inactivity of the last few days had left him feeling tense and restless, to a point where he would wander aimlessly through the corridors just so he wouldn't have to sit in his quarters. Now, the feeling seemed to have passed, at least for the moment.

"I wonder when they'll let us go back on duty," Malcolm said suddenly, and Trip grinned a little. There were times when he wondered if the other man could read his mind.

"Soon as they know that we're not suddenly gonna snap and short-circuit the life-support systems or somethin'."

The corners of Malcolm's mouth went down. "It should be obvious that we're okay to go back to work."

"Are we?" Trip regarded him for a long moment, and wasn't surprised when Malcolm avoided his eyes.

"Well, our memories have returned, haven't they?"

"They can't take any risks, Malcolm." Trip wished it would have sounded more convincing. "If we don't remember critical details..."

"A simple tour of the Armory and Engineering should make sure that we do," Malcolm said a little harshly. "Instead they're treating us like bloody lunatics."

Silence ensued after the last word. Trip lifted his glass to his lips, just so his hands would have something to do, and, to be perfectly honest, so he wouldn't have to look Malcolm in the eyes.

"Actually, I don't really mind Phlox' tests that much," Malcolm said after a while. His anger seemed to have seeped away, leaving only weariness in its wake. "I just hate the idea of... of being recalled to Earth, and..."

He trailed off, but Trip finished the sentence for him. "And goin' back to River Valley, or its modern equivalent?"

Malcolm nodded.

"That's not gonna happen," Trip said. Again, it didn't sound convincing. "I mean..."

He had no idea what he had wanted to say, and simply let the words hang in the air. If they were recalled... would it matter to Starfleet that they weren't crazy, at least not in the jumping-at-shadows and I-know-they're-after-me sense of the word? Or was there a nice care home waiting for them back on Earth, as Malcolm seemed to believe there was?

Malcolm shook his head. "I'm not going back," he said quietly. "That's one thing I know for sure."

Trip nodded. He didn't suppose that any Starfleet institution would be like River Valley; surely – hopefully – such things no longer existed in the twenty-second century. But it wouldn't make a difference, not really. He wasn't going back either. And while they were at it...

"I'd rather leave Starfleet." There, he'd said it.

"Me too." Malcolm avoided his eyes as he said it, almost as if he were ashamed. "Even if they say it's only temporary."

Trip watched Malcolm carefully. There was something he wanted to ask him; something that had, in fact, been on his mind even before they had returned to Enterprise, and Malcolm's closed-down expression when he mentioned River Valley had fed his suspicion.

"Mal..."

"Yes?"

Trip played with his glass, wondering if he should just leave it alone. God knew there was enough for them to muddle through already. And, although it was hard to admit, he was a little afraid of the answer to his question... in the unlikely case that he got one, that was.

"Trip?" Malcolm asked, and Trip raised his head. He could see that Malcolm would not let it go, and that he would see right through it if Trip tried to prevaricate.

"It's just that... when you were in seclusion, did Lendon..."

Malcolm only looked at him, and Trip wished more than anything else that he had kept his big mouth shut. It was too late for that, of course.

"It's just that I was wonderin'... I was wonderin' if you told me the truth when you said he only slapped you."

Malcolm was silent for a moment, his face unreadable, and Trip expected the shutters to bang down any moment. Then, to his surprise, Malcolm's lips twitched a little.

"Actually, it was his using me as an ashtray that I found to be more unpleasant."

Trip opened his mouth, but Malcolm raised a hand before he could say anything.

"I know what you were referring to, and yes, I did tell you the truth. There was some... innuendo, and I'm not sure what he would've done if I'd been taken there a second time, but as it is, that was all that happened, thankfully." He gave Trip a long look. "I could ask you the same thing, you know."

The implied question didn't exactly surprise Trip, although he would have preferred not to answer it. That was something else about time travel; the temporal distance made it easier to pretend that he had almost forgotten about the things that had happened at River Valley.

"Trip?"

Trip sighed. "He was going to," he said; if they were going for complete honesty here, he might as well admit it. "He... had a knife..." It had hurt, too. Those cuts at his throat had hurt for a long time. "There were a few moments when I was sure he was gonna kill me. After." It was all he could bring himself to say.

"I'm sorry," Malcolm said.

"Not your fault," Trip replied quietly. "I was lucky that he wasn't very strong. I got a hold of the knife and then Owens came in."

Malcolm was silent for a moment, then he took another swift sip of scotch, set his glass on the table and got up. Trip watched as he went over to his kitchen unit and opened a cupboard, not sure what was going on until a feline sound of approval came from the bed. Stinky, who had been curled up on Malcolm's bunk, was at Malcolm's feet in an instant, weaving between his legs and purring loudly.

Malcolm grinned and came back to the sofa, the cat following him eagerly.

"What's that?" Trip asked when he noticed the small blue jar in Malcolm's hand.

"Salmon Treats." Malcolm unscrewed the lid. "He goes bonkers just from the smell of them. Watch this."

He tilted the jar so that one of the brown kernels fell into his palm, then placed the treat on his shoulder. Stinky, who had been watching with single-minded concentration, began to climb Malcolm's leg and clambered up his side until he had reached the shoulder, where he triumphantly devoured his prize. Once it was gone, Malcolm fed him another one and sat back down on the couch with the cat contently perched on his shoulder.

Trip laughed. "That's somethin' else. You teach him that?"

Malcolm nodded. "Actually, he mostly taught himself. He could do it even before we were gone, and it seems that his culinary memory is quite reliable."

Trip shook his head, still grinning. "Add a white beard and you'd look like a wizard with a cat on your shoulder."

He reached for the jar with the treats and Stinky immediately left his vantage point to climb into Trip's lap and meow imperiously. Wanting to see if Malcolm's trick would work with him, too, Trip took out a treat and moments later a happily munching cat was sitting on his shoulder, claws digging into the fabric of his t-shirt.

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "Sometimes I wonder if it's me he likes or rather my ability to function as a tin-opener."

Grinning, Trip lifted Stinky off his shoulder and set him down on his lap. "I'd say he thinks that's what you are."

As if to second the statement, Stinky meowed, then curled up on Trip's lap and began to purr. Leaning back on the couch, Trip stroked the animal's soft fur and suddenly noticed that Malcolm was watching him with a small smile. At first, he didn't know what it was about, until their earlier conversation re-entered his mind. He had completely forgotten about it over Stinky's little climbing trick.

"You did that on purpose."

Malcolm blushed faintly, but the smile stayed on his face. "I find that it helps," was all he said, and Trip nodded.

They sat in silence for a while and sipped their drinks, each lost in his own thoughts. Then Malcolm suddenly raised his head again and scrunched his eyes shut with a sigh.

"I'm going to have one hell of a hang-over in the morning."

Trip chuckled. "Can't hold your own booze, Lieutenant?"

Malcolm opened one eye to glare at him. "Let's discuss this in the morning when you'll be the one crawling to the resequencer for a cup of coffee."

Ruefully, Trip admitted to himself that Malcolm was probably right; after almost half a year of complete abstinence, he would most likely feel like a zombie in the morning.

He raised his glass as if in response and emptied it of its contents. "Don't care. Nothin' like livin' in the present."

Malcolm rolled his eyes. "Your motto for the evening?"

"Yep."

"Well, in that case... as they say, the night is young."

Trip grinned at him. "It sure is."

Epilogue to come up soon!

Please let me know what you think!