Category: slash trumps all other genres.  You bet it does.

Rating: PG

Status: complete

Pairing: Tucker/Reed

Summary: The title says it all, I'd say.

Warnings: Sap

Beta: None.  This is quick and dirty.

Spoilers: Damage

Disclaimer: Paramount, UPN, and various producers have the strangle
hold on these characters and situations.  Just loosening the bonds a
bit...

Author's notes: This is a partial response to Typing Monkey's
challenge.  I could probably do a whole series on Sarah McLachlan's
Fumbling Towards Ecstasy album, but have to many other series to
finish.  And this is as close to a Drabble as I get.



Fumbling Towards Ecstasy

   "Malcolm!"

   Malcolm heard the call from behind him, but chose to ignore it, hoping it
would seem that he hadn't heard Trip calling his name. Ducking behind a
twisted bulkhead that had nearly ripped a tear in the adjacent wall, he
continued on quickly toward the armoury. He was nearly at the door when he
heard Trip call again.

   "Malcolm, wait up!" Trip jogged up to him, undeterred and oblivious of the
danger.

   Malcolm glared at him briefly, then forced the armoury door open and darted
inside. He didn't want to talk with Trip right now. Truthfully he didn't want to
talk to anyone in that moment, the planned piracy the Enterprise was about to
commit weighing heavily on his mind. He'd been dead against it, and under
different, entirely more reasonable, circumstances, he would have spoken out
more strongly than he had to Archer. But things were the way they were, and
he'd held his piece. Even T'Pol seemed to have lost the drive to argue with the
Captain, since she appeared to have accepted this course of action with little
resistance. Still, just because he'd swallowed his pride and begun developing a
tactical plan to steal the warp coil from the alien vessel, didn't mean he had to
agree with it. And that also meant he didn't feel like talking to someone who
clearly did, even if that someone was the man he was falling in love with.

   "Malcolm, what's your problem?" Trip demanded as he squeezed through
the blocked doorway into the armoury.

   "Commander, I'm a little busy right now," Malcolm said, reverting to the
formality of rank to disguise his feelings. Of course he was entirely wrong, it
only emphasized that something was awry. "Do you mind if we talk later?" he
asked, a little less harshly.

   Trip didn't bother to hide his look of annoyance, "Jesus, Malcolm, I just
wanted to help you with the phase cannon power matrix. You're the one who
requested help from engineering."

   Malcolm fiddled with a console, pretending to check a supply list, "We took
care of it," he said tersely, "We couldn't wait, and I knew you had your hands
full."

   Trip glared at Malcolm, momentarily speechless with anger, "It'd have been
nice of you to cancel the request then."

   "Sorry, I forgot about it."

   "What the hell is wrong with you, Reed?" Trip demanded, exasperated.
"What's with the cold shoulder routine?"

   Malcolm's dour expression softened a little. He didn't really want to fight
with Trip, but he was still angry, "I don't want to talk about it Trip. Can we
just do this later?"

   "Do what?" Trip nearly shouted, then seemed embarrassed by his outburst,
glancing around the armoury. Luckily they were alone. He grimaced, and then
pointed an accusing finger at Malcolm. "Spill it, Reed."

   Malcolm glanced away, fighting the anger that threatened to surface again.
"Fine, you want to know? I just can't believe you told the Captain that you
thought he was doing the right thing."

   Trip's head snapped back in shock, "What? When did I say that?"

   Malcolm snorted rudely, "In Engineering, in front of half the ship from what
I hear."

   "So what? I do think he's doing the right thing."

   Malcolm did his best to reign himself in, but failed, "No he's not! What are
you blind? We're about to cripple an alien ship whose only crime is contacting
us for help!"

   Trip turned a rather remarkable shade of red, "We have to! What do you
want us to do? Let the Earth be destroyed so you can say you took the high
road?"

   "Of course not, but I'm going to call a spade a spade, and what we're doing
is wrong."

   Somehow Trip seemed to calm himself, though not without effort, "What do
you want me to say, Malcolm? That you're right? Fine you're right. But as a
Jon's senior officer, and his friend, I had to support him. I do support him. And
the crew needs to know that too, even though that's not why I said it to him."

   Malcolm nodded silently. It was true, he realized, and he'd known it even
before the argument had begun. If only Trip had let him alone until he'd been
able to resolve his anger, and reason his way through to acceptance. Instead
he'd driven a wedge between them with harsh words and frustration.

   "Look Malcolm, I don't want to argue with you anymore, not about this, or
anything," Trip said quietly, sincerely, "I don't want to waste what little time I
have with the man I'm falling in love with on being angry."

   Malcolm gave no outward sign that he'd heard what Trip had said. "When
will you know for sure?"

   Trip blinked in confusion; "What?"

   "You said you're falling in love with me," Malcolm stated as calmly as he
could, "I was just wondering when you might know for sure."

   Stunned speechless, the man only gapped at Malcolm until a small grin
began to tug at the corners of his mouth, and he saw Trip realize he was being
played. Trip narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, and Malcolm knew that if
looks could kill, he would have been a scorched outline on the floor.

   "Keep it up, Reed-" Trip started to say before Malcolm stepped in close, his
eyes locked on the man who had become such an integral necessity to his own
well-being. His had fled in the wake of Trip's words, replaced with a jittering
rush of energy pulsing through his veins, expanding from deep within until he
was filled to bursting with what could only be described in grand, monosyllabic
words: love, bliss, joy. He was in love. This he'd known for a while now, but
never had Trip said it, and there had always been the fear in the back of his
mind he'd become a substitute for T'Pol after she'd rejected Trip. But that fear
had fled, along with his anger, and he gazed at Trip as the man smiled shyly in
the wake of his words.

   "Malcolm..." the man whispered.

   "Shhh...Just kiss me Trip. Just kiss me."


The End.