"Lieutenant Reed."

Malcolm started awake. He had fallen asleep, leaning against his bunk. Slowly, he raised his head and focused his eyes. T'Pol stood on the other side of the bars, a small stack of data padds in her hands.

"The Captain has granted your request to review the evidence," she continued. She slid the padds through the bars and clasped her hands behind her back.

Reed slowly moved over to them. He bent down to retrieve the padds. Leaning against the bars, he scrolled through the first one. He was surprised when T'Pol did not leave. He looked inquiringly at her.

She returned his stare, cold and emotionless, devoid of any expression. Malcolm had fantasized about her from their first meeting. He admitted that his interest had been mainly curiosity about Vulcan females, but he couldn't deny that she was attractive. He thought most men on the ship found the Subcommander an object of fantasy.

"You seem to be able to tolerate my existence, Subcommander," Malcolm muttered as he continued to read through the first report.

"The Captain requested I remain to answer any questions you may have," she replied.

A flash of hope went through Malcolm. "Does he-, does he think I might be innocent?"

She raised an eyebrow. "No," she said in that same detached voice.

Malcolm deflated immediately and barked out a hollow laugh. You're a bloody fool, Malcolm, he thought to himself as he continued to scroll through the padds.

He forced himself to read through Hoshi's autopsy report. Blunt trauma to the head. She had died on the operating table. He felt himself shiver slightly as he remembered the sound of her head striking.

Along with T'Pol's statement, there were other crewmen who reported seeing him acting distractedly as he headed for the shuttlebay.

Malcolm paused. If he intended to run away, why did he stop to get drunk? He rubbed his eyes as the headache came roaring back. Damn, what the hell was that bourbon tainted with?

He looked at his own medical reports. The bottle of bourbon was on the shuttlepod. It had been tainted by some core samples they had brought back from a mission three weeks ago. Malcolm remembered that mission. The sample box was placed on top of the storage unit in which the bourbon was stored. Phlox believed it somehow managed to leak through the layers of containers.

Phlox found nothing else in Malcolm's system. No foreign drugs or viruses.

Security had reported no intruders.

"You're sure it was me you saw?" Malcolm whispered. He looked into T'Pol's face. "It was me leaving the armory."

"Yes."

"It can't be," Malcolm violently shook his head and then winced in pain.

"All evidence points-"

"I don't give a damn about the evidence!" Malcolm yelled out. He threw the data padds against the bars. He fiercely pounded his chest. "I know in here I would never hurt Hoshi!"

"That is illogical reasoning-"

"To hell with logic!" He glared at the Vulcan. How could he have ever found her attractive, this cold, bloodless female?

"You are becoming agitated, Lieutenant Reed," T'Pol replied. "Please calm down or I will be forced to suggest you be placed in restraints."

Malcolm laughed bitterly and collapsed onto his bed. "Don't worry Subcommander, I feel as weak as a newborn."

He gazed at the Vulcan with a hard stare. T'Pol calmly returned his look. "You think I did it, don't you?"

It is the only logical conclusion."

"But why?" Malcolm exploded. The throbbing in his head increased, but he ignored it. He stumbled back towards the bars and grasped them with his hands. "Why would I ever hurt Hoshi?"

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "To cover your indiscretion," was her cool reply.

"But that's just it!" Malcolm cried out in exasperation. "I would never have suggested such a thing to Hoshi!"

"You did not find Ensign Sato attractive?"

"No! I mean, yes, I did, but I wouldn't have used my rank to force her into a relationship! Especially when I thought that there, well, might be a relationship of some nature with the Captain."

"You believe Ensign Sato and Captain Archer are involved?"

"I don't know," Malcolm sighed. He leaned his aching head against the bars. "Maybe. Damn this headache."

"I have found that sometimes human males often pursue something they believe is unattainable."

Malcolm was unable to control the blush that crept into his cheeks, remembering his own dreams about the unattainable T'Pol. He noticed the Vulcan ignored the flush.

"Do you wish to continue reviewing the evidence, or shall I remove the padds now?" T'Pol inquired.

"Oh no," Malcolm muttered as he gathered the data padds he had thrown. "I want to be certain every possible avenue has been explored." He sat down on the floor and leaned against the bars.

T'Pol remained standing, her eyebrow arched. "It already has been, Lieutenant."