For the next 48 hours, Malcolm had thrown himself into his work. He'd never run so many simulations in his life, never done as many Armoury systems checks. Some of the staff thought he was taking the definition of anal retentive to new dizzying, lung-crushing heights. Little did they know it was what he had to do to focus and keep his mind from straying back to the revelations that had come to light in Meara's quarters less than two days before. He spent enough time off-duty trying to process them, recalling previous altercations in which he and Hayes had engaged, trying to see if he had missed something that would have even hinted that Hayes had a family. Hayes had lost two people he loved. Hayes was—.

"—tenant?" He felt a finger poke his upper arm. "Comming Malcolm Reed. Anyone in there?"

Reed and Shaw were having a late lunch in a largely deserted Mess.

"What? Oh…Sorry."

"Where were you? It certainly didn't feel like you were on Enterprise."

"Just thinking…" Meara sighed. She really didn't like this side of Malcolm. If he were Catholic he'd have flogged himself to death by now with all the mental self-flagellation he lavishes on his brain. But then again, if not for these human frailties that seemed to permeate every cell of his tough little body, she wouldn't be half the Augment she was today.

"You weren't to know, Mal. He's hardly an open book. Perils of living, breathing and eating the military life as you DO well know. You also know, that you can't avoid Hayes forever. It's a big ship but it's not that big."

"I have not—". Meara gave him a LOOK.

"Save it, Mr Reed. You've gone out of your way not to be in the same room as him if there were a risk you'd end up alone together and actually have to engage with the man. You seem to forget I know what you're like. I've been there when you've broken hearts and had your own broken. Though you seem to have spent quite a few years steeling yours instead of stealing others. It's made you quite cold and pretty much retarded when it comes to connecting with people. Pity. You've got a lot to offer the right person." Reed gave her a frown. Trust her to be more blunt than the wrong end of a phase pistol.

She looked up as she slipped her food-laden fork into her mouth, and spotted Hayes as he entered the Mess. Malcolm's back was to the door, a measure of how preoccupied he truly was, given how paranoid he was about safety. One of his own rules was to ALWAYS have exits and entry points in your sights, no matter where you were.

She stood clasping her hands behind her back as he approached their table.

"May I join you?" Hayes' voice jolted Malcolm back to the present.

Meara spoke. "Please."

Hayes sat. "You know, Lieutenant. A lot of people suffered losses in the Xindi Crisis." Straight to the point. Wonderful. Reed poked at his food. He couldn't meet his eyes. "You want to know how I got through it?"

Finally Malcolm tentatively accepted his gaze. "I got to do something about it. With the best Starfleet had to offer." Meara recognised the tiniest flicker of acceptance in Malcolm's eyes.

"Hayes…" Malcolm quietly croaked out his name. "I don't even know where to—"

"As luck would have it I do know where you can begin, Lieutenant. Dinner tonight, in your quarters."

Malcolm gaped at him. "We're going finish this. We're going to start again. We're going to watch all that water from the last year pass under that bridge, carrying all our shit with it. Agreed?"

Malcolm was so dumbfounded, he could barely manage a nod of agreement to Hayes' proposition.

Hayes stood. "I believe we have a senior staff briefing in thirty minutes. I'll see you there."

"Ensign. See you in Tactical later." "Absolutely, Major."

Meara was grinning like a fool when she sat down. She looked at Malcolm. Who apparently was still trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

Almost there, thought Meara. She had tipped her hand at just the right time it seemed. Enterprise was four days from Klingon space. Time enough to get the two of them where she wanted them. With their eyes firmly on her back and on each other's.

Meara knew what the final briefing would entail, knowledge Starfleet Command had so far relayed only to Archer and his First Officer. She wasn't looking forward to Malcolm's reaction, knowing how protective he was. But this was the mission. And she was damn well going to give it her all…

Despite the presence of all the senior staff in the Command Centre, you could have heard a pin drop.

Archer took a deep, calming breath. "Well, there's a first. Silence from my officers."

"I think we're just havin' a little trouble processin' it all, Cap'n." Trip Tucker was nothing if not a master of understatement.

T'Pol - ever the voice of logic - weighed in. "Recent encounters with the Klingons have demonstrated to them that Humans are worth consideration for a possible alliance. While Klingons are not the most… enlightened species, both Human and Klingon encounters with the Romulans have given both peoples pause. Romulan technology and tactical expertise is superior, as we have witnessed firsthand. The only thing that surpasses these attributes is their unwavering belief in their supremacy over all other alien species - including Vulcans."

Malcolm was still reeling from the information that had just been laid before them. "Trial by combat?" He suddenly had a horrible image of Ambassador Meara Shaw lying at the feet of a Klingon Warrior holding her still beating heart above his head, screaming "Victory to the Empire!" Yes, Malcolm's imagination of the worst case scenario was nothing if not bloody and vivid. It's what made him good at what he did, though right now, the only thought he was having was how desperately he wanted to save Meara from what looked like an inevitable fate.

T'Pol continued. "It is a long-established Klingon ritual when engaging first contacts with whom they see the potential for the furthering of interplanetary relations, Lieutenant. And one we are forced to respect if we want to win the same from the Klingons." She glanced around at these people she had herself slowly come to respect over the years. Irrational and impulsive they may be, but Humans had achieved more in a century than Vulcans had in ten. She believed in their potential, even if they sometimes doubted it themselves.

"I'm not sure we're ready for this, Captain." For Hayes to make a statement like that was unheard of. Malcolm was wondering if the same thoughts were coursing through his mind regarding the safety of Meara.

"This is not the time for doubts, Major," Archer stated plainly. "The mission is what it is." He looked at each of his officers in turn, confidence lacing his words. "This crew has been through more in the last three years than the majority of the Human race would experience in a dozen lifetimes. We've watched crewmates die, but saved countless lives. We've come out the other side of every one of those experiences stronger and better. This is a new phase of Human evolution and we - Enterprise - has the privilege of being at the very beginning of that journey. Embrace and evolve or falter and die. I know which I'd rather do and I'm damn sure all of you are with me…"

Without hesitation in unison he heard what he needed to hear. "Yes Sir!"

Archer smiled. "Dismissed."

"I can't believe she didn't tell us. Trial by combat? With a Klingon? It's a suicide mission! Even for an Augment!" Malcolm was angry. Hayes was used to this side of Reed. "She was under orders, Sir. Need to know and all that. And knowing would almost certainly have altered our behaviour towards her." Malcolm sighed. He hated it when Hayes was right. Still, he wouldn't let it stop him from venting.

Hayes made a suggestion. "How about we go a few rounds in the gym? I don't think either of us want to see the Ambassador in our current state of disquiet."

Fair dues, thought Malcolm. He wondered if Hayes always knew how to read his mood but he had simply been too blind to acknowledge it. "You're on, Major."

As they made their way to the gym, Malcolm wondered. Aside from a few missteps on this mission, things had been going better than usual. He was getting too many second chances and he was trying not to convince himself that something was about to go horribly wrong.