A/N: These people seem to eat a lot of Italian food. That's your fault, volley.

CHAPTER 38

There were only a few places Reed might be on the ship, since he hadn't been on the bridge when Hoshi had left it to see T'Pol. She knew he probably wouldn't still be at the agony booth, since Kelby's interrogation had yielded results, but she took a quick peek in that compartment anyway as she passed by on her way to the armory. She was relieved to see that both the compartment and the booth were empty. Her mind shied away from where Kelby might be now -- the brig, sickbay, the morgue? She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

She continued on to the armory. She planned to take Mayweather inside with her, instead of telling him to wait outside as he had at T'Pol's cabin. She believed she'd earned some respect from Reed, but she wouldn't put it past him to try to something. The man had no moral scruples whatsoever.

She was a little surprised that Mayweather hadn't voiced an objection about not going back to the bridge or to the captain's quarters when they left T'Pol's cabin. If she remembered correctly, Archer's initial orders to him had been to escort her to and from the bridge, whether it was from the captain's cabin or the mess hall. He hadn't said anything about any place else. Maybe it was part of the conditioning that made Mayweather such a good bodyguard, she thought. She didn't have to tell him where she was going, as long as he was able to follow and protect her.

Despite Mayweather's reassuring presence, she wasn't looking forward to confronting Reed in his own territory on the ship. But if she was to get the metal cylinder, she had to do it. At the hatch to the armory, she took a deep, calming breath. It didn't help. She opened the hatch before she could chicken out and stepped into the armory. A second later, Mayweather entered after her.

As during her previous visit, she was impressed by the sheer amount of weaponry. Torpedoes, launchers, fire control platforms, clear-fronted cabinets holding phase pistols and rifles. The armory was so very bright and orderly in its layout. Knowing the destructive potential of the weapons, however, and how they were probably used to quell uprisings against the empire, sickened her.

"What can I do for you, luv?"

Hoshi spun around in the direction of the voice. Reed was standing a short distance away, smirking at her as he wiped his hands on a rag. She hadn't seen him when she'd first entered; how had be moved so silently?

She gulped. "I, ah, wanted to know if you still have that Risan souvenir."

Reed scowled. "That worthless piece of junk! It's in a locker over there." He jerked his head toward the storage lockers lining one bulkhead.

Hoshi tried not to let anything show on her face, but inside she was cheering. She'd been afraid that perhaps he had gotten rid of it. If so, her chances of getting home would vanish. The dense metal of the cylinder was essential to the process.

"Could I have it, please?" she asked.

He looked at her with narrowed eyes, tossing the rag on a nearby work table. "Whatever for?"

"I want to give it to Captain Archer."

He crossed his arms over his chest. He could have just given it to her, but from his expression, he was waiting for more of an explanation, as if he suspected the useless object suddenly had some value. Or maybe, she thought, he was just being difficult.

Hoshi's cheeks felt hot under his scrutiny. If he wanted to think her blush was due to something other than her nervousness about the real reason she needed the cylinder, all the better. "Um, I want to give it to Captain Archer to remind him of what I'm good at."

He smirked more broadly, taking the comment the way she'd hoped he would.

"Translating!" she said forcefully. "I'm good at translating. That thing was the first test of my abilities." As she warmed to her made-up tale, her voice became more confident. "I don't ever want Captain Archer to forget that I'm the only one who can speak or translate more languages than the Universal Translator."

Reed's lips curved up into a hard smile. "Good for you, luv!" He looked past her at Mayweather. "You can stand down, Corporal."

Hoshi shot a look at Mayweather. He was standing a couple of steps behind and to one side of her, as was his custom, but his hand was on the butt of the pistol in his holster; he apparently had thought there might be a problem with this visit to the armory. Despite Reed's order, his hand didn't budge.

"Bloody conditioning," Reed muttered under his breath. To Mayweather, he said, "I know she's untouchable whenever you're with her."

That comment puzzled Hoshi. Hawthorne had told her that Reed was one of the people Mayweather was conditioned to obey. The bodyguard should have responded immediately, but he hadn't. Perhaps he saw Reed as a threat to her safety. Whatever the reason, she wasn't going to worry about it as long as Mayweather continued to keep her safe. What was important was that she get that cylinder. She watched as Reed went to the storage locker, keyed in a code, and opened it. While his back was to her, she let out a long nervous breath, but by the time he had retrieved the cylinder and carried it back to her, her face was composed as it had been before.

"There you go," he said, handing it to her. "Saves me the trouble of disposing of it."

She took the heavy cylinder from him, trying to hide her eagerness. "Thanks," she said, holding it tightly. She turned to leave.

She was halfway to the hatch when he called after her. "One more thing."

Now that she had the cylinder, her inclination was to keep going as if she hadn't heard him. But she didn't want to give him any reason to follow her. So she turned around, an expression of polite inquiry on her face. "Yes?"

"If the captain doesn't appreciate your little gift," Reed said, his gaze raking her up and down with a look that made her feel dirty, "I'd be more than willing to show my appreciation of your gifts."

She whirled around and rushed out the door. She should have kept on going when she'd had the chance.

Hoshi took the cylinder back to her quarters. There was no other place to keep it where she could get her hands on it at a moment's notice. Until T'Pol figured out when the next anomaly would appear, she had no way of knowing exactly when she would need it.

There was also the possibility that word would get back to Archer about her trip to the armory and what she wanted there. She might have to produce the cylinder quickly if he wanted to see it.

As luck would have it, she arrived at the door to Archer's cabin just as Cunningham was coming down the corridor from the other direction. His appearance was a mixed blessing. She wouldn't have to page him to unlock the door, but, to judge by the tray he was carrying, it was time for dinner. That meant Archer must have arrived back at the cabin while she'd been traipsing around the ship on her errands.

"That's all for today," she told Mayweather, dismissing him.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, but he waited to leave until Cunningham had opened the door.

Then Cunningham, a smile on his face, politely waited for her to enter first. There was no way Archer could miss her entrance. So much for hiding the cylinder in her cabin. With a deep breath, she stepped across the threshold and entered Archer's quarters.

Archer was lying on his bunk, one hand behind his head, wide awake and looking in her direction. "I was wondering when you'd show up," he said.

She couldn't detect any anger or irritation in his voice as she moved a few steps to the side to get out of Cunningham's way. The steward placed the tray on the table and began removing lids from various dishes. Trying to appear nonchalant, she headed for the door to her adjoining cabin as if it was the most natural thing in the universe for her to arrive at her cabin carrying a heavy chunk of cylindrical metal.

"What's that you have?" Archer asked, sitting up.

Dart, who had been lying at the foot of the bed, got up and padded over to her.

She slowly turned to face Archer. As she tried to think of something to say, she reached down with one hand to pet Dart, who was sniffing at the cylinder. If she could put Archer on the defensive, she might be able to pull this off. She hugged the cylinder to her tightly. "It was supposed to be a surprise for you, but you ruined it by being here before I got back. Shame on you!"

Archer was looking blankly at the cylinder in her arms. He clearly didn't understand, which is exactly what she had intended.

"That's a surprise?" he asked. "Isn't that the thing that Reed was certain was a weapon?"

"Yes, to both questions," she told him. "But it means a lot more to me. It's the first thing you had me translate."

Archer still looked confused. "So? Why would I want it?"

Hoshi closed her eyes, took an audible breath and let it out as if calming herself, opened her eyes and said, "I want to give it to you as a reminder of when I came into your life. You know, how good I am at translating, how that's helped you." Archer still hadn't really reacted, so she added snarkily, "Besides, I don't think I've ever seen Reed so put out as when I told him it was a souvenir. That alone is worth keeping it around."

That drew a laugh from Archer.

She allowed a small smile to cross her face. "Anyway, I thought I'd arrange to have some sort of base made for it, and it can sit on your shelf with your other trophies."

Archer smiled indulgently at her. "Fine. Do whatever you want with it."

Hoshi marched into her cabin, shut the door, and leaned against it as she shakily swiped her hair back from her face. Archer had bought her story. And now, she realized, there was no reason to hide the cylinder, because he knew about it and had accepted her explanation. She walked over to the table and carefully set down the cylinder on its surface.

As she turned away, her eyes fell on the closet. It wouldn't hurt to let Archer think she was going along with his plan. Maybe she'd wear the black shift again, the one that she'd worn shortly after she had first woken up in this universe. Anything to put Archer off his guard. With his ego, he might credit her nervousness to nothing more than her excitement about his plans for her.

She quickly changed and was about to go back into Archer's cabin when a beep came from the intercom panel in her cabin. That had never happened before. Curious, she went to the panel and pushed the button to open the connection. "Yes?" she asked cautiously.

"This channel is secure for twenty-two seconds," came T'Pol's voice. "Listen carefully. The next anomaly will appear at oh-two hundred hours tomorrow. I will meet you in the launch bay at that time. Bring the object."

The click of the channel being closed on the other end came over the speaker, followed by silence. Hoshi stared at the intercom panel. Oh-two hundred hours? So soon? With any luck, Archer would be sleeping. She should be able to slip out undetected.

All she had to do right now was get through dinner without letting anything slip. She could do that. She had to do that if she wanted to get home.

Cunningham left after serving them a dinner of veal parmesan, along with garlic bread and salad. Hoshi's nervousness, along with a heightened sense of urgency, didn't allow her to eat much. She picked at her food, but Archer, she noted, was packing it away with gusto.

"I would have told Cunningham to bring a bottle of wine with this," Archer said at one point, "but between the two of you, I seriously doubt you would have let me have any of it."

His cheeky grin was quite disarming. Hoshi felt herself responding to it, which made her feel even worse about what she was going to to do.

"Well, it's not a good idea to mix alcohol with medications," she said. "How are you feeling, by the way?"

"Much better," he said with a gleam in his eyes.

Under his steady gaze, she became both warm and uncomfortable at the same time. "You're not that much better," she warned him. "Have you had to take anything for the pain since this morning?"

"No." He frowned slightly, his hand going to his side. "But I think I'm going to need something if I want to get any sleep tonight."

"It's your own fault, you know," she told him. "You didn't have to go running all over the ship today."

"Yes, I did," he contradicted her, some of his old fire resurfacing. "If I'm to keep order on this ship, it's important for the crew to see me. And after what happened with Kelby..." His voice trailed off. "The sooner I'm back at one hundred percent, the better."

Hoshi put down her fork; she wasn't really hungry anyway. "You're due for some more antibiotic. Why don't I get that for you now, and a painkiller."

"I'd rather not have the painkiller right now," he said, reaching across the table to take her hand before she could get to her feet. "It might make me sleepy, and I have something in mind for us that doesn't have anything to do with sleep."

That was what she had been afraid of, especially since he'd told her she was to be his consort. Maybe she shouldn't have worn the black shift, because it signaled that she was willing to go along with his plan. All his plans. How was she going to get out of this?