Lost

Title: Lost
Author: Looneyluna
E-Mail: [email protected]
Rating: R
Code: R/S, all
Category: Angst, Romance

Summary: Malcolm's left for dead and when rescued feels as though he knows Hoshi. How does he know her, read and find out.

A/N: I must give credit where credit is due. PJ (MHE listmum) stood behind me and cracked the whip. Thanks PJ! I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended. Special thanks to Kathy Rose for beta reading.

The air clung to his skin like a heavy woolen blanket, his subconscious begging for him to kick that blanket off. The wind moved over him as though trying to cool him, whispers in his broken mind soothing his restlessness. The ringing in his ears had finally deafened him, thus intensifying his isolation as the silence of the ever-present glaring sun beat down upon him.

The heat was harsh, but lessening with each breath he took, his mind a painful loss of who and what he was. Finally the darkness claimed him and carried him to a peaceful oblivion.

Time held no place or meaning as the moon rose and his pale blue eyes watched the stars meander through the sky. A gentle breeze soothed him to sleep.

Dawn broke and life-giving leaves encased his resting soul to protect him from the harsh rays of the day. His thirst devoured him and stirred him from his healing slumber. Clumsily, he drank from the leaves; their never-ending supply nutrient-rich water sustained him and encouraged him to survive.

A countless number of days passed and the man grew stronger inside the cocoon, finally breaking it as he stretched protesting muscles. The waning light of dusk greeted him and his vision treated him to the amber specter of golden hues fighting for supremacy in the sky. Night fell and he huddled back inside the remains of his cocoon.

Hunger stirred him, his ever-constant companion as the cycles of day and night passed before him. His memories of his identity and humanity were locked deep inside his dreams, too painful to be revisited. Spent fruits fell upon the land and the man's hunger was quenched, giving him strength to collect fresh fruit.

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months, the man adapted the environment around him to accommodate his needs, his hunger assuaged by fruit and bark from the trees. He had discovered his only source of protein quite by accident. When he first woke, the man shed his clothing, finding no use for the material and forgetting any semblance of modesty. Warm storms were frequent, providing the water that was essential to his well being.

The storm of several days past damaged a nearby tree, revealing the only source of protein on the planet � the heartwood in the middle, which had the consistency and texture of fresh carrots. The man's days were spent in attempts to locate the food as he went about the new forest ripping and tearing twigs and shrubbery for food.

Over time the man grew proficient at the harvest and flourished. His nights were squandered wrestling with the demons, which haunted his dreams � a female with dark hair and an oval face. She taunted and goaded him, yet was soft and gentle with him, unknowingly keeping him alive.

That is what the beings on the surface wanted of him. They wanted him to live. They were witness to his almost death and had taken it upon themselves to save that which his kind had cast off so recklessly. The planet's native inhabitants existed on a level not seen by the human eye. They were sentient and moved among the planets of their system caring only for the life they had nurtured within the being. Pleased with his progress and health, they watched the creature and anticipated his needs, urging him to remember what he was.

The warm season remained the same as years passed. Ultimately, the man's dreams spurring him to create a device that featured in his nightly dreams. He dug through the roots of the forest floor, searching for the clothing and sparse metals he had divested himself of long ago. Taking those materials and merging them with the heat of the fire, instinct drove him to fashion a device to summon more of his kind, through a skill he didn't know he possessed. It vibrated beneath his fingertips and a communicative pattern he had learned as a boy flew from the device as he tapped out a call for help.

He would wake daily and spend what leisure time he had tapping on the communicator unaware of those around him and their power and they stretched his call throughout their home system.

Complacent and boring, she cringed at her thoughts. Lieutenant Hoshi Sato could hardly imagine another tour aboard Enterprise. She had already served two and she hadn't figured out how Jonathan Archer had talked her into the second one. He was a sneaky one and whenever he came sauntering down the hall toward her, she made it a point to head in the other direction. She tapped the piece of equipment in her ear as it chirped, picking up subspace static and other noises.

No, she couldn't be a com officer on a submarine and have the opportunity to listen to whale song. She shook her head at the thought and shuddered as the thought of her claustrophobia reminded her why that wasn't such a good idea. She tapped at her ear piece again, the static repeating and her mind continuing to ignore it. Nope, life on a submarine was definitely out of the question.

The repetitive static turned into faint beep and she immediately perked up. She squinted in concentration, blocking out the background noise from the workings of the bridge crew. The faint beep repeated and grew louder.

"Sir," she started as the pattern repeated in her ear. "I'm receiving a transmission."

Captain Jonathan Archer waited for her to add something to her admission.

The pattern repeated again and she shook her head. How did a SOS signal get all the way out here? She glared at Travis's back and looked around for Trip. This must be some sort of elaborate trick, but Trip wasn't on the bridge and he hated missing his own pranks. "It's an SOS, sir, and it's coming from the fourth planet of the Galadin planet."

"Are you sure?" Jon asked in disbelief, coming to the same conclusion Hoshi had.

She didn't know how, but she kept from rolling her eyes in annoyance and routed the transmission to the speakers. The beeping filled the bridge and the captain nodded his head in agreement answering his previous question.

"Travis, plot a course, warp four," Jon stated.

"Aye, sir," the helmsman complied.

A strange vibration stirred the air around the man and he stopped tapping the wires to investigate. Inherently, he knew today was different. He could smell it in the air as excitement strummed through his being.� He brushed the plush foliage away, making his way toward the alien vibrations, curiosity driving him.

A movement caught his eye and the bushes moved unnaturally, startling him. He jumped behind a sheltering tree and watched in awe as another creature invaded his home.

The creature looked like him and moved like him, but his face and head held various differences. The light speckled skin and vibrant blue eye searched for something, an odd device in his hand. The alien walked toward the man, looking back and forth from the device and his direction.

The man shirked further back into his hiding place, knowing fear for the first time he had come into being. The alien's mouth opened and he looked over his shoulder

His heart pounded in his chest and he wanted to run away. The intruder that continued toward his hiding place and he hunched further down, getting ready to flee. Another movement caught the man's attention and another being walked into the small clearing and interacted with the other. She was one of his kind, petite in stature with familiar dark hair.

She turned toward his hiding place, staring at it and quickly glancing down to her handheld machine. She spoke with the other creature, saying what, he had no idea for he was unable to hear.

The woman approached the hiding place and knelt before him, the smell of her permeating his olfactory nerves and easing his sense of alarm. She held her hand out, slowly pushing back the foliage, which concealed him.

He didn't hear her calming voice, yet her posture and motions coaxed him, luring him to her. The man eyed her companion wearily, who had started to back away cautiously, showing the man that he meant no harm.

"Be careful, Lieutenant Sato," Dr. Phlox insisted, as he continued to scan the wild human before him.� Phlox watched the hesitant movement of the man toward the lieutenant, his clear eyes darting nervously between himself and the lieutenant. He flipped his communicator open and summoned the captain.

"Go ahead," Jon replied, making his way toward their location.

"Sir, we've located the human life form. He is indeed human, but very skittish. I suggest you remain where you are. We're quite safe I assure you."

"How is he?" asked Jon.

"I'm not sure. I've yet to get close enough for a proper scan."

"I'll be standing by. Let me know when I may proceed. Archer out."

Phlox observed the wary movements of the lean man as he circled the young woman. He had never seen an example of a human such as this. The man was naked and covered in dirt, his beard and hair long and matted.

He had to admire Lieutenant Sato's restraint as the man touched her hair hesitantly. Most humans held a certain regard toward personal space, but this man obviously held no such boundaries only a seemingly intense curiosity. Phlox started to warn her not to get close due to the potential to attract parasites and lice, but decided against it. If he did have anything, the Lieutenant had likely already been exposed, and any parasites could be taken care of in decon.

"What's your name?" Hoshi asked, standing perfectly still, not really minding the spread of his fingers in her hair, yet concerned that he wasn't answering her. "How long have you been here?" She tapped the UT in her hand and made sure it was working.

Her hair came loose as he tugged and pulled on the silken curtain. "How did you get here?" There were no signs of any wreckage, just him and the signal.

The man stood in front of her now, Hoshi able to feel the heat from his body and smell the stench of his odor. He reached for the zipper to her uniform and started pulling it down. Instinctively, she slapped his hand away, pushed him away, and tried to retreat, but he quickly grabbed her hair.

"Ouch!"

"Hoshi?" Phlox called out alarmed.

"I'm okay," she assured the physician, tugging fruitlessly on her hair. "He doesn't understand me?" Talk about frustrated, I can talk to a variety of aliens, but I can't talk with another human. I've come all this way and this hunk of junk in my hand is useless.

"Here," Phlox shouted and tossed her a hypospray. "Sedate him so I can complete a medical exam." He could tell the lieutenant was losing patience and he could hardly contain his excitement over finding such a raw example of humanity.

Hoshi caught the instrument with ease and turned around and smiled up at the man, her breath hitching in her lungs. God, he stank! He smiled back and touched her face tenderly, smearing mud along her jaw. In return she touched him back, sneakily moving the overgrowth of hair and beard and trying to find a spot to inject him.

He could see her lips moving, and knew she was trying to communicate with him, but he heard none of her soothing words. He accepted her touch innocently then felt a slight sting in his shoulder. He looked at her quizzically, questioning her actions for a brief moment before lethargy set in and his eyelids grew heavy. Not now! He didn't want to dream. It wasn't time. Try as he might, the darkness of sleep soon consumed him anyway.

As he fell, he pulled Hoshi to the ground with him, his grip on her hair tight and secure. Phlox rushed to her side and contacted the captain. First he extradited the man's hands from her hair then set about conducting a medical exam. He took detailed scans of the man's entire body, lingering on his head and adjusting his scanner.

Captain Archer walked into the clearing and up to the scene. "Who is he? How did he get here? How long has he been here? Is he talking? Is he�"

With the patience of a saint, Hoshi explained that the man had been unresponsive thus far and couldn't answer any of his questions. She really did wonder how she had let someone so clueless talk her into hurtling through space in a tin can, which was built by the lowest bidder.

Phlox straightened and studied the scans. "Judging by the scarring along his minor cortex and the evidence of a fracture, he sustained a major head injury about eight years ago. The scarring is located along the part of the brain, which controls hearing. My guess is that he is unable to hear you. He also sustained some damage to the temporal lobe. Other than that and some cavities, he is the picture of health."

"Can the damage be repaired?" Jon asked.

"Not without surgery," replied the doctor.

The captain nodded, weighing his options carefully and quickly coming to a decision. "Make it so."

Sound woke him for the first time in his memory and he moved his head to identify the source, his eyes still too heavy to open. A fluttering of wings drew his attention. Wings? There were no birds on the planet. Was he dreaming still? A sense of panic clawed at him as the vision of the dark-haired woman skirted across his consciousness. She was so real and so gentle, and she wore the same type of clothing he had cast off so long ago. Another sound caused him to frown � a rustling, like an animal would rustle through some bushes. He must be dreaming. There was no sound anywhere for him except in his dreams.��

Soft murmured voices surrounded him and he startled. He knew the words they spoke as his own thoughts were filled with the language. His dreams were filled with the language too, but never so many as what he was hearing now, and he finally forced his heavy lids to open.

An unnatural light shone bright before him, giving way to strange surroundings. Was he in a different land? He squinted and a shadow moving across him caught his attention.

"Can you hear me?" a voice asked.

The man turned his head toward the voice, yet made no response.

"The damage is repaired. He should be able to hear," another voice replied.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" the voice asked impatiently.

Again the man only stared toward the sound, wanting to answer, but unsure as to how.

"He took quite an interest in Lieutenant Sato, sir. Perhaps he would respond to her," a calm voice interjected.

"Go ahead, Lieutenant."

"Can you hear me?" the Sato's voice questioned, unable to contain the sense of hope within the question.

He turned toward her voice, his eyes still adjusting to the lighting. The outline of her dark hair caught his attention and he lifted his hand toward her, seeking comfort. "Y-yes," he stammered hoarsely, relieved when he felt her warm hand grasp his.

A torrent of emotions ran through him � fear, hope, warmth, and excitement. Her face came into focus and smiled down at him.

"What's your name?" she asked softly, cringing slightly as the man squeezed her hand tighter. Phlox had taken a DNA sample, but the computer was still cross-referencing it with the database.

Name? He knew the word, yet the word held no meaning for him.

"Who are you?" Hoshi rephrased the question.

He frowned, unable to answer. "I�don't know."

His voice was hoarse and low, containing a slight hint of an accent. The frequency of the few words he had muttered struck a cord deep within her and she couldn't help but stroke her thumb back and forth lightly against the top of his hand. She could tell he needed reassurance. She had first noticed his solemn blue eyes as they fixated on her, boring into her as though asking questions she couldn't hear. She had noticed the color of his eyes down on the planet when his hair was long and matted with dirt. Now his hair was cut short with only a minor bald spot where Phlox had made the incision. His beard had also been shaven off. He wasn't infested with parasites as Phlox had suspected earlier, but the doctor didn't want to take any chance with potential infections.

"How did you get to the planet?" Hoshi asked calmly, anticipating her captain's questions.

The man looked down at their hands, his clasping hers roughly while hers offered comfort. "You're r-real?"

She nodded in response and asked another question. "How long have you been there?"

The man released his grasp on the woman's hand and smiled as it remained in his palm. Gently, he raised her hand to his face and rubbed his clean-shaven face against the top of her hand. First sound and now touch. He was able to touch her and she held substance and didn't evaporate in the mist of his dreams. Her question was one of time; a concept he had abandoned long ago and he shrugged his shoulders.

Hoshi grew frustrated with his lack of response and decided upon another tactic. Obviously the man had suffered some sort of trauma. Why he had taken a liking to her, she hadn't a clue. "My name is Hoshi. What is your name?"

Hoshi. Her name was Hoshi. Reality consumed his reasoning and he finally accepted the truth. His kind had come for him. He had felt the loneliness slowly creep upon him through the time he could remember and had sought solace in his dreams. The people his imagination conjured were minor figments compared to the woman with the dark hair. His emotions toward her were strong and volatile. He could feel his eyes burn and his vision blur as water dripped along his cheeks.

She wiped his tears away as the play of emotions crossed his face. He was lost, even to himself. "Is it possible he has amnesia?"

Phlox nodded in agreement to her assessment. "Amnesia is possible with any head injury."

Jon shifted. "When will the analysis be complete?"

"Within the hour," Phlox announced.

Hoshi wiped more tears from the man's cheeks as they poured freely and without shame. He couldn't contain the yawn and the doctor noticed the fatigue of the patient as well. "There will be plenty of time for questions later. For now, he needs his rest."

Hoshi tried to extract her hand from the man's grasp.

He held her hand firmly yet gently. "Please � please, don't leave me."

She looked from the captain to the doctor then to the man, his chest heaving with panic underneath the blue blanket that protected his modesty. She felt for the guy, but really didn't have time to play nursemaid.

"Lieutenant," Captain Archer smiled, seeing the lieutenant grow frustrated, "You're temporarily assigned to sickbay until further notice. I think you've found a new friend."

Phlox's smile broadened as he collected a chair for the young woman to sit in. There was no telling when the man would drift off to sleep and he was hesitant to sedate him any further.

She shifted from foot to foot, glaring over her shoulder at the idiot who was her captain. She smiled at the doctor as he scooted a chair near her posterior. "Thanks, Doctor."

The man looked around the room and continued to pet Hoshi's hand, tactically expecting it by rubbing it across his cheek and lips. His hands held her upper arm now and he muttered to himself. "You're real. You're real."

"Yes," she whispered in reply to his absent ramblings. "We're all real."

He looked around the room hesitantly, taking in his surroundings. "Sickbay," he announced cautiously, some memories untainted by the injury.

Hoshi lifted her head hopefully. "Yes, we're in sickbay." She tugged on her hand, but he held it firmly. It had fallen asleep and she could barely feel it. "Please," she pleaded and offered her other hand to him, "take my other hand."

The man granted her request, quickly holding on to her hand before letting go of her other one and started to examine it like the other. Her hands were soft and clean and pliant in his grasp. Comforted with her touch, he yawned again and succumbed to sleep.

When he woke, the comfort was gone. The unnatural lighting was dimmed and the sounds of creatures in cages greeted him. Her voice soothed nearby and he sat up slowly, trying to find her, the blanket slipping to his waist.

"I can't sleep either," her voice cooed, as she shushed a squawking animal. "How long have you gone without sleep? Sometimes I can go as long as a week without any substantial sleep. You know, a cat nap here and there."

The animal squawked in protest.

"I'm sorry," she calmed, "I guess you wouldn't really care for a cat, would you?"

The animal calmed.

The man stood on shaky legs, wrapping the blanket around his lean waist, somehow remembering that modesty counted now that he was around other humans.

"I haven't gotten a full night's sleep since my first final exam week at the university, and that was � oh about ten years ago," she prattled on, referring to her first semester at school. Her 'gift' allowed her early admittance to various universities as her parents shuffled her back and forth toting her as a child prodigy. There had been no time to adjust or become friendly with anyone. Travis was actually the truest friend she had ever known.

Some of the words she spoke made sense to him while others held no meaning. Who or what was she speaking to? He rounded the corner and saw her there, legs crossed and holding a piece of food to the mouth of a bird. She gasped in surprise when his shadow fell across the floor in front of her. "Oh, it's you."

He knelt next to her and she scooted over, trying to institute her personal boundary, but her only moved closer to her, reaching out for her hair and pulling strands of it from her ponytail. "It's dreaming time," he stated sadly, looking from her then to the nighttime conditions surrounding them.

Hoshi stared into the depths of his azure eyes. She knew who he was now, but didn't feel that the time to tell him was now. He still looked so lost and so confused as he clasped the blanket around his waist as he sat next to her still touching her hair. There wasn't much personal information listed about him only the basic Starfleet record � name, age, admission date, department and date he was listed missing in action. Lt. Commander Malcolm Reed, now age thirty-six, admitted to Starfleet academy at the age of eighteen on the security track and missing in action for eight and a half years now. The rest of his record was classified. Captain Archer was going through the red tape right now, trying to get the answers, which would help Malcolm recover and remember.

She watched him as he absorbed the news Captain Archer was telling him. The good news was Malcolm's growing interactions with other crew besides her. The bad news was Malcolm's expression. Before, his expression was that of a lost soul, almost childlike. Now it was vacant as he looked at the PADD and saw a picture of his former self. The revelation of who he was held little meaning other than the name and rank listed. There was no substance.

"Most of the information is still classified, Lieutenant Commander, but I'm confident Starfleet will release an abridged version to us shortly so that you can start filling in the gaps." Jon straightened to leave.

Without looking up from the PADD, Malcolm stammered," Y-yes�that would be greatly appreciated."

"I'm sure once you have more information about your past, that will assist in your recovery," Dr. Phlox added optimistically and stepped away, giving the man some privacy, yet remaining on hand if he needed assistance.

Hoshi stood there silently, wanting to offer comfort but unsure as to how to go about it. She shifted uneasily from foot to foot.

Malcolm looked up from the PADD, tears brimming in his eyes," I don't remember. Maybe I don't want to for a reason," he stated and turned the PADD so that she could see. "I look � mean."

Hoshi took the PADD from his hand and looked at the picture she had already studied. Cold blue eyes stared out from the picture and a harshness furrowed his brow. She thought herself lucky no to be under his command as he looked like a real son of a bitch.

"Everybody's Starfleet identification picture looks bad," she answered lightly. "You should see mine."

He smiled then and took the PADD back in his hand and clicked it off. He stared at her and resisted the urge to reach out and twist her hair through his fingers for he knew it made her uncomfortable. He didn't know who she reminded him of, but his feelings for her were strong, he couldn't deny that. She was kind, generous and tender. Visions of her handling the baby bats and feeding them last night filled his mind, noting she used the same soothing voice on the orphaned animal she used on him. He was reminded she had yet to get any sleep as she stifled a yawn before him.

The cascade effect worked on him, and he yawned too. The knowledge of his identity plagued him. Why was his record classified? Did he have a family? What had he done in the past? Was he respected? Was he despised? Questions piled on top of one another in his head and he frowned.

Hoshi saw his furrowed brow, the same one in his picture. She touched him lightly on the sleeve of his gray jumper. "Hey," she calmed, "You don't have to solve the mystery in a day."

He looked into her deep brown eyes, their depths offering something he had been without for too long � companionship, but at what cost? She yawned again. "M-maybe you should get some sleep," he suggested hesitantly.

She was about to protest the suggestion when the sickbay door opened and a crewman walked in with some food trays from the galley. Hoshi brightened and walked over to the crewman, thanking him. "And miss my chance to get something to eat?"

The aroma of the food tempted him and his mouth watered.

Hoshi lifted the lids and steam rose. She stabbed a spoon into a bowl and stirred the golden liquid. "Mmm, it looks like chef made his chicken dumpling soup, and some sandwiches." She readied the cart and prepared the trays, being careful not to spill the glasses of ice water. "Do you like chicken soup?"

A look of contemplation then vacancy crossed his face.

She regretted the words as soon as they slipped past her lips as the now familiar lost look crossed his face again. "I� I'm so sorry."

"W-well, I suppose I won't know unless I try it," he said, taking the spoon from her hand and scooping up some of the broth.

Hoshi watched him through lowered lids. He seemed self-conscious ever since this morning. He held the spoon in a fist, much like a child would and touched the broth-filled spoon to his lips to test the temperature. Deciding it was an adequate temperature he sipped it. Closing his eyes, Malcolm savored the taste.�

She waited for him to say something, perhaps to mention a familiar memory associated with the food. Surely, he had eaten chicken soup before he became stranded.

Various spices assailed his senses and he swallowed the hot broth quickly. His eyes went wide and he smiled, awkwardly spooning more of the soup and bringing it to his lips for more. He swallowed. "It's delicious."

Hoshi couldn't help but smile as he set the spoon and grabbed a sandwich, taking a rather large bite out of it. She watched silently as he chewed and alternated between soup, sandwich, and a glass of cool water. He looked like a child stuffing food in his mouth before he had swallowed the previous bite and his cheeks were starting to puff out.

"Slow down, sir," she stated softly while touching his sleeve. "The food isn't going anywhere and we can get more you want it."

He set the food down and blushed, suddenly aware he wasn't alone. Decorum and etiquette flowed through his mind and he suddenly knew what he was doing was wrong. He continued chewing and forcibly swallowed the last of the food in his mouth. "I-I'm sorry," he muttered and looked up. "I haven't tasted�salt in such a long time�and the other spices. The food on the planet was practically tasteless."

"It's okay, sir," Hoshi assured with a soft smile, as she wiped some mayonnaise from the side of his mouth with her napkin. "I wouldn't last a week without chocolate," she joked.

He pulled away from her touch, his embarrassment growing and his frown increasing. "Why are you calling me sir?"

Hoshi wiped her hand on a napkin. Although he had yet to be reinstated, he did outrank her. Even retired personnel still held their titles and authority. "You are a Lieutenant Commander," she reminded him. "I'm a Lieutenant. You outrank me."

Malcolm pondered her words for a moment before he bit off another bite of his sandwich and chewed it thoughtfully. She appealed to him on a level he didn't quite understand, but knew she reminded him of someone from his past. Even if she didn't remind him of someone, he would still be attracted to her. She was attractive and treating him like a mother hen. She yawned again.

"You should go get some sleep�lieutenant," he affirmed.

"No thanks," she shrugged, picking up a sandwich and taking a bite. "If I go to sleep now, I won't get any sleep tonight."

"I insist," Malcolm stated and set his sandwich down.

Hoshi heard a strange inflection in his voice and looked up. "Are you ordering me to do so?"

"If need be," he resolved and crossed his arms over his chest.

Brown eyes met blue and she could see he meant business. What a prick! Hoshi set her sandwich down and wiped her hands on a napkin. For a brief second, she pondered what she had done to set him off then shrugged her shoulders. She had duties to attend to anyway. "Fine. Whatever floats your boat, sir," she tossed over her shoulder as she walked out of sickbay, relieved her tenure as a nursemaid was over.

He watched her leave, first her back then the sway of her hips, and finally her bum. A movement off to the side caught his attention and he noticed the doctor watching him.

That is the one thing I can't stand about Starfleet. Sure I understand the command structure and its significance. After all, somebody has to lead, right? Somebody with a superiority complex made up fraternization regs, or should I say inferiority complex. He's the one who got all touchy-feely with my hair and all. Granted, he wasn't quite himself. There's no telling what he's been through.

Hoshi shuddered and looked at his Starfleet photo on the terminal in her quarters. Malcolm did look mean. Well if he was mean, surely they would offload him to the nearest Starfleet ship or base to make his way back to Earth. There had to be somebody who missed him. Either way, he wasn't her problem anymore. She switched her terminal off and lay down, punching her pillow and settling down for the night.

Dr. Phlox was a talkative person, Malcolm discovered as he sat patiently listening to the physician with his mouth open. He couldn't sleep and apparently, the doctor didn't sleep. So they decided to pursue the treatment on his teeth. Malcolm stared at the ceiling and listened to the doctor and ignored the blue light coming out of his mouth.

"Once we get more of your record, things will start coming back to you. My youngest daughter was in a speeder accident when she was ten cycles old and for several days after that insisted she was a famous politician � I can't remember the politician's name though. He was quite popular on Denobula and was reelected several times until his death." The blue light clicked off and the doctor removed the instrument from Malcolm's mouth. "All the cavities have been filled and a sealant has been administered. Don't drink or eat anything for at least an hour," Phlox smiled.

Malcolm's churned unhappily at the thought of food. It would seem that the difference in his diet had not agreed with him.

Phlox watched Mr. Reed hold his stomach and grimace. "Perhaps I should have started you out on a liquids only diet and worked you up to solids. Either way, your system will adjust in a few days."

Malcolm nodded his acknowledgement of the information and looked over at the bed. He wasn't tired and he wasn't in the mood for conversation either.

Always astute, Phlox backed away and informed his patient where he would be if he needed him. He watched the man grab the PADD and retire behind the privacy curtain.

Malcolm glared at the picture as though it would start talking and telling him what he wanted to know. He pressed some commands into the PADD, inherently knowing how to work it, and soon Lieutenant Hoshi Sato's picture smiled back at him. Her hair was pulled back in the sensible ponytail she still wore, and her face glowed in the picture. Overall, it was a good likeness.

He felt vulnerable and he hated it. He hated her seeing him vulnerable. He hated for anyone to see him vulnerable. Malcolm knew that much. Turning off the PADD, he reclined, his thoughts carrying over into his dreams.

His tormentor was female, her long dark hair caressing his skin as she brought him to the crescendo of release. He loved her, the feeling could not be contained and he spoke the words out loud.

She laughed her response and a searing pain consumed his head. Betrayal and lies pierced his soul and the pounding in his head continued.

"Did you really think I would wait for you to discover my activities, lover?" the woman taunted, as he lay there bleeding, unable to speak or defend himself. "I doubt you even realize how close you were to exposing me," she whispered cruelly and hit her dying lover again.

Moaning in pain, his breath hitched in his throat and he clutched his head, the nightmare a distant phantom. In its wake, it left only one emotion, only one memory � betrayal by the dark-haired woman.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get to sleep and she contemplated that she should ask Phlox if she could just move the bats in with her. Yawning, Hoshi walked into sickbay and made her way to the cage. The mother bat watched the human's hand wearily, yet acceptingly, as Hoshi slid her hand into the cage and grasped the bat's pup. As customary, she left the cage open and left the mother bat the option to fly out of her cage.

Standing on the cusp of sleep and surrounded by the instinctual nature to defend himself, he rose from his bed silently.

A low growl caught her attention and she twisted from her seat on the floor and saw him coming toward her. He was clad only in his boxers and he staggered toward her. Standing quickly, concerned for him, Hoshi asked, "Are you okay?"

Moaning incoherently, he held his head like it hurt.

She asked again and touched his shoulder lightly. It happened so quickly, a twist of her wrist and a yank of her hair and she fell to her knees in pain, crying out.

"Traitor!" he called out and moved to slap her, but blackness engulfed him and he fell on top of her.

Hoshi trembled underneath him and sighed as his weight was lifted off of her. "Lieutenant, are you okay?"

"Yes � yes," she answered shakily, finding herself in the familiar position of having the doctor help her dislodge her hair from the man's grasp. The mother bat and her pup were flying wildly around sickbay, stirred to flight by the attack of their caretaker.

Neither wanted to ask the obvious questions. What happened? Why? Was he a danger to the crew? Phlox merely stared at the sleeping man before them. The sooner his Starfleet records were released the better.

Opening his eyes slowly, Malcolm registered a slight weight upon the various points of his body � his chest, arms, waist and legs. What had happened? Why was he restrained? He moved his head from side to side, the grogginess of the sedative still wearing off.

"Come down here, Nala," the familiar voice of the doctor called to the screeching bat.

Another voice interrupted the rescue attempts of the Denobulan doctor. "What happened?" it asked. This voice was vaguely familiar.

His voice held a frustrated edge as Phlox tried to coax the bat from her perch on top of the cabinets. "As far as I can discern, Mr. Reed, was sleep walking. It's not uncommon given light of recent events."

"Why did he attack the Lieutenant?" Captain Archer questioned. "Is he still a threat? Is he a danger to himself?"

Malcolm's blood ran cold, his thoughts hauntingly empty with no memory of the incident. Shaking his head from side to side, he groaned.

The sound startled both captain and doctor to his bedside.

"Mr. Reed?" the doctor asked cautiously.

There was no answer as the patient continued shaking the effects of the sedative from his consciousness. Certain words ran like ice through his veins as the events of the last few days repeated in his head. "Hoshi," he called, wincing as the captain's words of 'attacked the Lieutenant' reached him. His emotions were turbulence personified whenever he thought of her for he wanted to embrace her, yet push her away at the same time.

"Lieutenant Commander?" Jon questioned firmly, yet with compassion in his tone.

Discontinuing the struggle against the restraints, Malcolm took deep calming breaths. "Did I hurt her?"

Archer was about to answer before Phlox intervened. "The Lieutenant is fine, Mr. Reed," the Doctor assured softly, and started to unfasten the restraints.

Jon started to question the decision, but Phlox gave him a look that would broker no argument. "In fact, she has resumed her normal duties."

Malcolm sat up slowly and stared down at his bare feet, relieved that Hoshi was fine. "W-what happened?"

"We were hoping that you could tell us," Jon stated tentatively.

"I d-don't remember," Malcolm stated softly.

"And that's the problem, Captain," Phlox interjected on behalf of his patient. "The sooner Starfleet releases Mr. Reed's record, the sooner he can start to recover. Surely there is something in his record that will spark some memory."

Frustrated, Jon turned away from the conversation and delivered the painful news. "They won't release his record, Doc."

"Why not!" Malcolm burst out, the fear of never knowing who he really was, ebbing into his being.

Archer looked into Malcolm's wild eyes. "Best guess?"

Malcolm nodded, his hands gripping the edge of his bed.

"My guess is that you were Starfleet Intelligence," Jon speculated.

Subspace static murmured in her ear and lulled her to yawn. She had better get some sleep tonight otherwise she was going to need to ask Phlox for a sedative. Hoshi had tried to go to sleep shortly after the incident in sickbay, but the venom in Malcolm's inflection kept repeating in her head.

"I hear the survivor is smitten with you," Lieutenant Travis Mayweather smiled as he leaned over the com station.

Smiling back, Hoshi scoffed, "If that's smitten, I'd hate to see him in love."

"What do you mean?" Travis puzzled.

Hoshi shook her head, yet didn't answer him. It really wasn't her place to engage in gossip especially regarding a senior officer. "N-nothing."

"I can only imagine how difficult the adjustment has been for the survivor so far," Travis continued. "Before I came along, one of my dad's favorite stories is how he rescued a castaway from a deserted planet. The man had been there for twelve years, living off of bugs and vegetation."

This drew Hoshi's attention. "What happened to him?"

Bowing his head, "He couldn't adjust and wound up killing himself one day. He left a note behind for his daughter," Travis added the last part as though he considered the note of apology some from of absolution.

Hoshi stared at the helmsman, trying to gauge his sincerity. He had played too many jokes on her and she had a problem believing anything that came out of his mouth.

"Scout's honor," Travis stated, holding two fingers up.

She smirked and hit him on the shoulder. "I didn't realize the scouts extended to boomer ships."

He had the nerve to look chagrined. "Ok, I wasn't in the scouts, but I swear the story is true."

Holding her hand over her ears she laughed, "I'm not listening to you anymore."

Travis tugged her hands away from her head. "I'm serious! It's a true story. The man's daughter was a baby when he disappeared and they never really did connect. The only person the man really got along with was a dog his doctor gave to him � part of reintegrating socialization skills."

The turbolift opened and Captain Archer stepped onto the bridge. Hoshi shooed Travis back to his post. Maybe Malcolm needed to spend some quality time with Porthos. Eight years � that's how long he had been alone. Perhaps he could benefit from a little canine TLC.

Pressing the sequence of buttons Dr. Phlox had shown him, Malcolm stood back and took a deep breath. "Personal Log," he started softly, looking around the room for some semblance of the date. He gave up and continued the start to the recovery journal Phlox had suggested, giving the canine in the corner a strange look as he snored softly in the corner of his cabin.

"It's been three days since the doctor released me from sickbay. Thankfully, I've had no repeats of violent episodes," he paused, grimacing as the thought of hurting Hoshi crossed his mind. Malcolm had seen her today as he ate breakfast with Dr. Phlox � another therapeutic tool the doctor insisted on, insisting that he begin to socialize with the crew.

Two days ago he met the chief engineer and found Commander Tucker to be very friendly and very loud. Somehow, Malcolm had resisted the urge to cover his ears when the man spoke to him. The helmsman introduced himself next, obviously curious about the newcomer, yet with enough tact not to pry. Hoshi stood behind Lieutenant Mayweather, stifling a yawn.

"Maybe she still isn't sleeping well," he thought out loud and paced the length of his cabin not really paying attention that his spoken words were being recorded. He puzzled as to why his thoughts always meandered to her. Malcolm couldn't figure out why she seemed so dangerously familiar to him. "Dangerous," he scoffed as his thoughts betrayed him. She didn't seem dangerous and had offered only kindness and concern for him.

"Pretty soon her insomnia will rub off on me," Malcolm muttered in frustration. Last night, he dreamt of her, an erotic dream, filled with passion and sighs. "I guess that is to be suspected seeing as I haven't had sex in eight years� at least none that I can remember."

A whimper in the corner caught his attention and he knelt next to his other therapy tool � Porthos. Malcolm pet the dog, stroking him gently to bring him from whatever bad dream the dog might be having. Captain Archer had explained to him that he would be om gamma shift for the next three months, and had asked Malcolm to take care of the dog, explaining that Porthos didn't like to sleep alone.

Shaking his head, Malcolm grinned. Phlox had let it slip that it was really Hoshi's idea for Porthos to come to stay with him. The dog licked his hand and Malcolm reciprocated with a scratch behind the canine's ears. Inquisitive brown eyes stared up at him and Porthos' tail started to wag in anticipation of a walk.

"Starfleet is adamant about not releasing my service record," he stated hopelessly knowing that Porthos couldn't understand what he was saying but that it was better to hear himself speak than endure the silence. "However, they have released the names of my family."

Porthos whined and Malcolm grabbed the leash, clicking the log off. The journal had been a bad idea and a waste of time. He didn't want to think or ponder the fact that he was alone. The names of his parents repeated in his head though no memory of them existed for him. He kept repeating the names in his head over and over again; almost afraid if he didn't he would forget again. Through it all, Malcolm couldn't help but wonder if he were truly better off now. His dreams were full of people and places when he was on the planet, including images from what he assumed was his childhood.

He looked at the picture of his father and again ran a trembling hand over the image. Instinctively, he knew the harshness he had suffered at the man's hands. He remembered that much in his dreams. The only problem was that he was his father in those dreams. The possibility� he really was a monster sent a sense of dread through him, which chilled him, body and soul.

Stomach growling, Hoshi made her way to the gym. She wasn't going to exercise on a full stomach. It just wasn't a smart thing to do. Lunch had been sparse to the point of being almost non-existent and definitely way too long ago, in addition to that her shift had run late. T'Pol proved to be a monotonous taskmistress, accounting for every spare second of Alpha crew's shift now that Captain Archer was on Beta shift for the next few months. There was quite a difference in command styles. The go-getter in her appreciated T'Pol's efficiency, but Hoshi felt the Vulcan really needed to schedule bathroom breaks somewhere in the day.

The thought of asking the stoic Vulcan for a bathroom pass made her chuckle as she made her way to the gym. Hoshi stopped dead in her tracks at the site of Malcolm Reed jogging gingerly on a treadmill and Porthos on the treadmill next to him walking at a slower pace. She leaned against the doorframe and clasped her midsection, silent laughter wracking her small frame. Maybe it was lack of sleep or food, or maybe it was both, but the scene was hysterical. Soon she was down on her knees; tears of laughter trailing down her face.

A forceful hand patted her on the back and a wet tongue licked her arm. "Are you okay, Lieutenant?"

�

He could tell she was breathing as she panted heavily, so she wasn't choking.

Finally able to look up, Hoshi saw concerned brown eyes then frowning blue ones. That accompanied by the gentle hand now resting at the small of her back had a sudden sobering effect on her. "I� I'm sorry, sir." She straightened and moved away from him.

This was exactly what he had been trying to avoid � people, her in particular. Sure he didn't have exclusive rights to the gym, but he was fairly certain everybody would be at dinner about this time. Instead of walking the dog around the ship and possibly running into sympathetic or curious crewmen, Malcolm found it more relaxing to avoid them.

He hadn't spoken to her since he 'attacked' her. What could he possibly say to her? Why did it matter to him? "I'm sorry," he blurted out.

"For what?" Hoshi puzzled. Not a day had passed since he had come aboard that she didn't think of him. He still looked lost, but now there was something else about him that she couldn't quite place. He stammered an apology regarding their last encounter and didn't look at her. Instead Malcolm looked down at the dog, intently stroking the animal's fur.

She wouldn't be a very good linguist if she couldn't read people and his body language spoke volumes. Not only was he lost he was alone as well. Hoshi leaned forward and touched his bare forearm gently. "It's okay," she stated softly, as if reassuring a scared animal.

Malcolm finally looked up. She was smiling at him, the tilt of her chin self-assured and calm. Her hair was down and framed her face, the urge to touch it consuming him. He had always loved that about her � her hair. He could lose himself in it, the feel, the smell � the comfort.

His meandering thoughts cajoled his memory and Malcolm backed away from the woman in front of him quickly, biting his tongue to keep from cursing. He didn't want to feel. He wanted to go back and shook his head as if trying to wake himself from this dream. However, the dream was real. The sounds alone were worth the pain and confusion swirling around in his head.

Righting himself, Malcolm hurriedly hooked the leash onto Porthos. "I have to go."

Hoshi watched him leave, admiring the play of muscle underneath his tank top. Like it or not, he was going to have to get used to people being back in his life, especially her.

Not even bothering to go back to his quarters, Malcolm made his way to sickbay. The glimpse into his past held such strong emotions behind it, emotions, which overwhelmed him.

"We could try hypnosis," Dr. Phlox offered, knowing good and well the man in front of him would decline.

He cringed as the doctor mentioned hypnosis.

Sighing, Phlox handed Malcolm's canine companion a treat. "Well, there is no other treatment available. Even hypnosis isn't a guarantee�" Phlox's voice trailed off as he noticed the dejected set of the man's shoulders.

"Perhaps time will assist in your recovery," the doctor stated optimistically. "A week ago, you underwent a major surgery, not accounting for the trauma before that. You must give your recovery time, Mr. Reed. In under a week, you've already recovered one memory. Surely, others will follow."

Clenching the leash in his hand, Malcolm scoffed. "You call it a memory? I'm on the floor with a sleep-deprived, hysterical woman and I remember that I love her hair! Are you going to tell me I knew her in a previous life next?"

"The Banals believe in reincarnation and have substantial proof that it does exist�"

Malcolm rolled his eyes and stood up. "I don't have time for this."

Suddenly, Phlox stopped surmising the Banal death ritual. "Sleep deprived?"

Malcolm waved his hand irritably. "I overheard Lieutenant Sato talking to the bats�and she's always yawning," he added. "Isn't there some surgery or medication you can give me to speed up the process? My records are never going to see the light of day. That much is obvious. The information that was released consisted of three names � my father, mother, and sister. All of who are dead, by the way. My�" his thought was cut short as he jumped off the table. "Never mind."

For some odd reason a sense of urgency consumed him regarding his recovery.

"Forget it, Hoshi! I'm not going to force myself on the man," Travis stated emphatically. "He made it abundantly clear he wished to be left alone."

"H�ow do you know?" Hoshi asked on the edge of a yawn. "Did he say he wanted to be left alone?"

Swallowing a bite of penne pasta, Travis nodded his head furiously. "Yes, he did."

"Fine! Be that way!" huffed Hoshi, not at all surprised Travis had refused her attempt to enlist his help in befriending Malcolm � the Lieutenant Commander. Sure, the man wasn't reinstated yet, but he would be eventually. So she was a coward and didn't want to approach him by herself. Perhaps the other day had something to do with her hesitation toward him.

Either way Hoshi thought about it, she was going to force him to accept her. Something drove her to carry out this course of action. Maybe it was the hint of mystery and danger that surrounded him. Maybe it was the lost look. Perhaps it was the fact that the man was drop dead gorgeous. "I guess I'll just have to ask Commander Tucker to come along with me."

Travis choked on his tea and started laughing. "Oh yes! Please do! This I've got to see."

They were both cowards! Neither Travis nor Trip would 'invade the man's space,' but she wasn't about to be dissuaded from her present course of action. Hoshi held her breath and waited for Malcolm to answer his door; books in hand signified her pretense for crashing his solitude. Shifting uneasily from foot to foot, she stifled an ever-present yawn.

"Can I help you with something, Lieutenant?"

Hoshi jumped at the sound of his voice behind her. "I-I �" she yawned again.

Malcolm waited patiently for her reply, Porthos wagging his talk enthusiastically.

Her thoughts becoming mud in her mind at the sight of him, it occurred to her that he had actually snuck up on her. "How'd you do that?"

"Do what?" Malcolm replied quickly.

"Sneak up on me," she stated, her voice trailing off at the end as Hoshi noticed the scowl forming on his face.

Seeing how nervous he made her, he purposely crowded her and tried to intimidate her. "And why would that be so difficult?" he questioned.

His face was mere centimeters away from hers and his masculine scent filled her nostrils. "B- because I-I have sensitive hearing." She clutched the books to her chest as though they would protect her.

Malcolm pressed the code to his quarters and brushed past her, surprised when she followed him in. "And the stuttering?" he countered, bending down and unhooking the dog's leash.

Admiring the view of his backside as he administered to the lucky dog, Hoshi didn't answer.

Finally Malcolm straightened. "Well?"

Blushing slightly, Hoshi held the books out. "I brought some books. I'm sure you can pull any book you want up and download it onto a PADD, but there's just something about the weight of the book and turning the pages that has always intrigued me. I �" Hoshi took a calming breath and attempted to calm down. She couldn't figure out the reason, but he made her nervous. "I took the liberty and picked out some mysteries for you since I didn't know what you would like to read."

He looked at the books in her hands like they were poisonous snakes ready to strike at him. Did he even remember how to read? What did he like to read? Did he read for pleasure? Snatching one of the books from her hands, Malcolm flipped it over and quickly read the title. "Murder on the Orient Express."

Looking at him hopefully, Hoshi smiled. He was smirking and flipping through the pages.

"Thank you," he whispered solemnly. "I wasn't sure I could read."

Her smile fell. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it," she stammered, as she started to back away. "I just figured you would like a diversion while you recuperated."

Touching her sleeve, Malcolm stopped Hoshi. Part of him screamed to push her away, yet another part begged him to embrace her. He didn't trust himself with her; afraid he would harm her again. "Thank you," he repeated, at a sudden loss for words.

Handing him the other books, Hoshi brightened. "You're welcome."

He held the other volumes in his hand and feigned interest, the scent of her distracting him into lengthening the awkward silence.

Always one to abhor silence, Hoshi cleared her throat. "They're having movie night tonight, nineteen hundred hours, if you'd like to get out," her voice trailing off at the last part of the invitation, as she watched his expression change.

Malcolm concealed his shock as best he could, but an invitation was the last thing he expected from her. "I�"

"I don't know what I was thinking. You're probably very busy and it was highly inappropriate of me to ask you to movie night. You �" Hoshi stammered, a slow blush rising up her neck and tingeing her cheeks.

"I'll meet you there," he stated before his mind could keep up with his mouth.

Not hearing his response, Hoshi kept talking. "It was very presumptuous of me and I apologize, Lieutenant Commander, and � did you just say you'll meet me there?"

Ignoring his internal voice, Malcolm shook his head yes.

Hoshi smiled and walked toward the door. "I'll see you there." She left, her mind churning right along with her stomach. Had she just asked a senior officer out on a date?

Pacing up and down the corridor and cursing, Malcolm finally stopped, causing his four-legged companion to look up at him with curiosity in his eyes. What had come over him? Why had he ever agreed to such foolishness? Movie night? He could watch any movie he wanted from the safety and seclusion of his assigned cabin. All he had to do was pull them up in the database, but something compelled him to say yes to her suggestion.

Porthos whined and shook him from his reverie. Embarrassed, Malcolm looked up and down the hall, hoping nobody had witnessed his indecisiveness. He approached the darkened mess hall like a man walking to his execution. The movie had already started and he pressed the button, stepping inside. The lights and sounds flickered as the beginning credits rolled and Malcolm was frozen in his place.

Hoshi saw him enter for she had purposely chose to sit close to the door to wait for him. All she saw was his shadowy outline � his body language revealed how uncomfortable he was. Maybe she shouldn't have pushed him this quickly? The story Travis related to her about the other survivor still played in her head. That man had never acclimated. Touching his sleeve gently, she whispered. "We're over here."

Malcolm's eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, he could see how crowded the mess hall was. "We?"

"Travis � er � Lieutenant Mayweather is saving our seats," she replied quickly and relinquished her seat on the end of the aisle to another crewman.

A shock traveled up his arm as her hand clasped his and she tugged him in the direction where Travis was sitting. A well-lit scene illuminated the room as Malcolm made his way down the aisle, the smiling face of Travis Mayweather greeting him near the middle of the makeshift theater. Two seats were vacant, one on either side of him. Travis moved to scoot over, but Malcolm stopped him, quickly taking the seat on the other side of the helmsman. The word self-preservation repeated over and over in his mind, and Malcolm knew it would be impossible to watch the movie, much less enjoy it if he had to sit next to her.

The title of the movie scrolled across the screen and Malcolm read the words halfheartedly, bending down he picked Porthos up and put him on his lap. Growing increasingly thankful for the dog, Malcolm realized he had the perfect out if things got too stressful for him. "North by Northwest," he repeated in his head. The title and plot escaped him and the thought occurred to him. Even if he had seen it, he wouldn't remember it.

Hoshi couldn't help but grin as the man held the beagle in his lap like the dog was some sort of shield. Rolling her eyes, she noticed the substandard colorization of the film that flickered before her. Commander Tucker struck again. He sure was a stickler for the classics. Covertly, so as not to disturb anybody, she got her PADD out and pulled up a synopsis of the movie. The blue light of the instrument highlighted her face as the plot of the movie flashed before her eyes. "An advertising executive is mistaken for a spy and is pursued across the country while he looks for a way to survive."

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but the sense of panic that forced its way inside of her started bubbling furiously. As the com officer, Hoshi was privy to all the gossip. She took no role in spreading gossip, only the role of censuring it and combating it with tactful truth. Already hearing the rumors about Malcolm and herself, she chose to ignore them, but the one rumor she had heard rang in her ears like an omen. A name really didn't define a person, nor did a rank, but Starfleet's reluctance to divulge Malcolm's record was very revealing in an of itself. Captain Archer had even voiced his suspicion and had inadvertently confirmed the general consensus on board.

They were all Starfleet, but there existed a level within Starfleet, which was clandestine and unspoken. After all, intelligence organizations weren't in the habit of advertising their covert operations.

Hoshi watched Malcolm as he shifted in his chair and adjusted Porthos on his lap. The dog was fast asleep, not really one to go without his naps. She crossed her fingers and hoped her attempts of forcing social interactions upon him didn't backfire. Was a movie really interactive though? They were sitting there in the dark, each person taking interest in the movie on their own level. Some even stood up as they realized they had better things to do than to suffer through the 'classics' Starfleet was so keen on sanctioning �nothing too violent and nothing too sexual. Essentially, movie night was a big bore, but an excuse to get together and socialize.

She settled back in her chair and watched the film.

The lights came on and a collective groan could be heard throughout the theater. Porthos jumped off of Malcolm's lap and started wagging his tail expectantly. Malcolm didn't know which he preferred more, the movie, or watching Hoshi try to stay awake during it.

"Well, Lieutenant Commander," Travis paused, not sure what to say, still uneasy about interacting with the man that sat next to him.

The first to stand, Hoshi stretched and yawned, wanting to make a hasty exit in the event anybody started asking her about the movie. As it was she certainly hoped nobody noticed her napping. What she really hoped was that nobody saw her drool or heard her snore. She was refreshed and knew she had been sleeping deeply.

Travis's communicator chirped and he answered it quickly, leaving the room to get away from the loud buzz of personnel socializing and joking around.

"Did you enjoy your nap?" asked Malcolm, as he stood to leave. He hadn't failed to notice how enticing Hoshi looked with her chest thrust out when she yawned

Blushing, Hoshi nodded. "It was very refreshing. Thank you."

They walked into the hall in silence and made their way toward the turbolift.

"How long have you had it?"

"Had what?"

"Insomnia."

She didn't answer him right away and merely shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I've always had it in one form or the other."

"You're a little young," he surmised, picking up the pace to the lift. The sooner he was back in his quarters, the sooner he could get away from her and the uneasy addicting feeling which traveled up and down his spine any time he was around her.

Stopping dead in her tracks, she pondered the meaning of his words, his tone of voice irritating her. "For what?"

The lift finally arrived and he followed her in. "Insomnia," he shrugged, noting the edge in her voice.

An uneasy silence fell between the two, Malcolm not knowing what to say next and Hoshi feeling badly for biting his head off.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled and looked down, her hair hiding her face.

The pose was very familiar to him, and instinctively Malcolm reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear.

Looking at him with wide eyes, Hoshi smiled.

Pulling his hand back like a snake had bitten him, Malcolm quickly stuttered an apology. "I'm sorry."

Tired of stepping on eggshells around him, Hoshi finally spoke what was on her mind. "I obviously remind you of someone, have you figured out who yet?"

Her brashness shocked him and he shifted uneasily. Should he tell her that the memories involving her were entirely sexual, with exception to the nightmare? Damn, even that started out as sexual. How was he going to tell her? Why should he tell her? Hell, maybe he should show her. Maybe that would finally drive her away and he wouldn't have to deal with her anymore.�

"I know this much," he murmured huskily and stepped closer to her. "Whomever you remind me of � we had great sex." Placing his hands on either side of her head, he pressed his body against hers. "It was dangerous and passionate, a physical sensation I've been wondering about."

Pushing against his chest halfheartedly, her eyes widened, her breath stopped and the pounding of her heart nearly deafened her.

Leaning against her, he crushed his lips to hers. Malcolm was taken by surprise when she responded to the kiss.

Who groaned first was a mystery and the only thing that saved them from deepening the kiss was the opening of the turbolift door.

He tore away from her and grasped Porthos' leash in his hand, letting the dog lead him for his brain was no longer rationalizing anything but the kiss he had just shared with the ship's com officer.

Standing there, shocked yet numb, Hoshi touched her lips and watched the lift doors close.

Not really remembering how she got back to her quarters, Hoshi looked around them as though she didn't recognize them. She walked into her bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror, touching her lips hesitantly. Malcolm's words haunted her and she wonder what memories were waiting for him in the shadows of his amnesia. Was there a lover, a girlfriend � a wife?

Mentally chastising herself for even thinking about the kiss, but knowing good and well she wouldn't sleep tonight, she set out to find out more about Malcolm Reed, even if it meant breaking a few rules.

Wasting no time she sat down at her terminal and started taping away at the keyboard, preferring the old-fashioned method of hacking into a system. Her screen flashed brightly in front of her as she accessed the main Starfleet terminal, posing as a routine diagnostic of the communications array. So far, so good. Nothing too fishy.

Taking a deep breath and crossing her fingers, Hoshi entered the code she had come across during her training days. She wasn't surprised when the code didn't work. It was an old code after all. Staring at the time display on her monitor, Hoshi started working on finding a new password. It shouldn't be too hard. The data was nothing more than a programming language waiting to tell her its secrets.

The air was clear, yet heavy with heat. It was the kind of heat that made it difficult to breathe � the kind of heat where it drained any semblance of moisture from anything it surrounded. Malcolm could feel the moisture abandoning his limbs as the arid nature drained him.

In the distance, a comforting wind howled. On the wind was a woman's laughter, soft and inviting. Startled, Malcolm turned toward the welcoming noise, finding no one. He was alone. Isn't that what he wanted?

The breeze caressed the barren sand, creating a microcosmic tornado. Shielding his eyes and face from the sting of the sand, he fell to his knees. As soon as the whirlwind had begun, it stopped. An intimate shadow fell on the ground in front of him and he looked up, feeling what he did not know. Even his dreams were clouded for her couldn't see the face of his redeemer � the one who was going to save him. Save him from what he knew not what. An overwhelming sense of loss and emptiness loomed on the horizon as the sun set on the dream, taking away the shadow and the hope.

Hoshi stared at the screen in frustration, having made some progress, but not in the direction she wanted. Using Malcolm Reed, as a search term wasn't really turning much up other than what she already knew. It was as though he didn't exist. It was either that or somebody had wiped him off the proverbial face of the Earth.

Taking a sip of water, she glared at the numerous entries, which basically said the same thing � Lieutenant Commander Malcolm Reed, missing in action and presumed dead August 8, 2152. She clicked on another report, expecting much of the same and something unexpected caught her eye � a medical log. At this point, she was willing to explore any avenue, no matter how slim the possibility was it would actually yield some truth.

A weary sigh filled the room as an audio log started to play. "Chief Medical Officer's Log, April 17^th, 2150. Lieutenant Reed managed to do it again, and I in my Godlike status of his saving physician, have managed to patch his ass up. When I think of the mission parameters, which they set up, I shudder. It's amazing the twit is alive. Pretty soon I'll have my own personal shrapnel collection on his contributions alone."

Hoshi blinked and sat on the edge of her seat. Could he be referring to her Lieutenant Commander Reed?

The log continued. "Malcolm assures me that he doesn't get shot on purpose, but sometimes I really wonder."

Her gut knotted and she chewed on her lip.

"We're in the Banderis system on a routine sweep. Lieutenant Reed is as tight-lipped as ever regarding mission specifics. This time he suffered some shrapnel burns in his chest and abdomen. Luckily, they have one kick ass field medic; otherwise, Malcolm would have cashed out a long time ago. Actually I think Mukai has the hots for him. Maybe that's what motivates her to keep patching him up.

"Chief Medical Officer's Log, May 30, 2150. Lieutenant Reed has earned a commendation, and I'm afraid the price was a bit steep. There was a hostage crisis onboard a class-two hauler and he took a plasma hit in his right shoulder. I've informed Starfleet time and time again that their combat vests aren't of the best design. When Mr. Reed woke up from surgery, he actually argued that there was nothing wrong with the design and he would rather have the mobility in his shoulders and arms then to weigh them down with extra padding. I sometimes wonder how the man got past the Starfleet psych test. One thing's for sure. If I ever go into private practice, I'm going to name a wing of my facility after the man."

The log ended and Hoshi focused on the screen to see if there were any more crumbs to his past. There was no name attached to the logs and no ship designations. Who had recorded the logs? What ship did he serve on? If she could find the doctor, would he be willing to help Malcolm? Leaning forward, Hoshi tried to focus on the screen some more, but it was no use. She was spent as excitement coursed through her veins and the urge to tell somebody overwhelmed her.

He didn't know whether it was being woken from a deep sleep or if he was still getting used to being able to hear, but the noise which woke him was growing louder and more annoying. It wasn't going away either. Sitting up in bed, Malcolm noticed Porthos already standing at the door, the dog was staring and wagging his tail in welcome. Half stumbling and half limping due to his muscles protesting the interruption of their rest, Malcolm made his way to the door. The chronometer on his terminal flashed an obscene time � 4:26 A.M. Making a mental note of the time, he realized who the person on the other side of the door was.

Without thinking of the consequences to his sanity, Malcolm opened the door.

Her thoughts were clocking at an inhuman speed. She felt like a detective who had finally reached a break-through on a cold case. All thoughts came to a screeching halt once the door opened. A scowling, half-naked Malcolm Reed glared back at her. Yes, she'd seen him naked before but that was different. This time he was clean and Hoshi was able to discern the distinct musculature of his abs and the narrow pattern of hair, which trailed down the center of his stomach and disappeared beneath the waistband of his boxers.

"This had better be good, Lieutenant," Malcolm barked and saw her eyes travel the length of his body. Suddenly, he was very aware that he was practically naked and standing half way in the hall. Grabbing her upper arms firmly, he pulled her into his quarters.

Porthos didn't move and Hoshi didn't notice the canine obstacle in her way. Tripping over the dog she stumbled into Malcolm. Hoshi gasped, her hands firmly planting themselves on his chest and the rest of her body traitorously, if not willingly, falling against him.

The door shut behind her, neither realizing Porthos had taken the moment to escape.

Her soft warmth turned into a slow burning heat against his skin, the thin t-shirt she wore providing little barrier between them. Malcolm held her against him, terrified to move, yet at the same time thankful not to move. Her wide brown eyes staring back at him in shock and surprise, Malcolm realized a small truth � He could spend a lifetime looking into them.

His eyes were so blue, like the sky. She cringed inwardly at the overused metaphor, and realized the color comparison really didn't do justice to their color.� Her hand resting comfortably on his chest, she could feel the muscles twitch. She looked at his lips, his breath gingerly caressing her cheek, and she licked her own lips nervously. The reason she had come to see him totally escaped her at the moment.

He had tried not to think about the kiss in the elevator, banishing the memory to the back of his mind. After all, the only stable factor in his life right now was his ability to forget. Unfortunately, he could think of nothing other than that kiss and the feel of his body pressed against hers. Now her body pressing against his and the motion of her licking her lips sent any noble intentions he had out the airlock.

Every nerve ending thrummed inside her, begging for further intimacy with this man. Logic screamed in the back of her sleep-deprived man. You remind him of someone. You're merely a stand in for someone else. Think, Hoshi. Use your common sense and�

Feeling his hands expand across her back, Hoshi looked into Malcolm's eyes. They were no longer sky blue. They appeared darker, his intent clearly reflected in them. Her eyes fluttered shut as he got closer, the whisper of a promise against her lips. The whisper soon became a hesitant kiss, the hesitant kiss quickly into a passionate one.

Only in his dreams had he heard a woman's desirous sigh. Never in his dreams was he able to take that sigh inside himself. Her taste was intoxicating and the kiss deepened.

Sensory overload! His taste-- his touch-- the feel of his hands upon her was too much. The sound of his low groan caused a shiver to clamor down her spine. Hoshi moved to touch him more, her one palm leaving the expanse of his chest while the other hand still held on to the PADD. She was a puddle of mush and her limbs would not cooperate. A loud clang sounded in the cabin as the PADD fell from her hand and hit the deck plating, bringing Hoshi's reality crashing back to her.

Somehow managing to pull away from the kiss, Hoshi pulled away from him too. She would a substitute for someone he may love. "I-I found s-something," she whispered shakily, looking to the floor for the PADD and avoiding his gaze.

A frustrated ache had grown deep inside him and Malcolm stood there, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.

"It's a log � a medical log," she stammered, standing back up and holding the PADD out to him. "I'm pretty sure it's yours."

Greater than his desire for her, was his desire to remember. He took the PADD from her proffered hand and quickly linked it to his terminal, the audio log automatically playing.

Watching the play of emotions on his face as the log played, Hoshi sat on his bed and waited.

He listened to the log and at the parts where the CMO noted injuries, Malcolm checked for any visible scarring along that part of his body. Running his hand over his chest and his shoulder, he found they were smooth and unmarked. The log ended and Malcolm stood there, his mind racing, trying to remember.

"Where did you find this?" he asked gruffly and turned to see he would get no answer to his question for Hoshi was half laying and half sitting on his bed asleep, her legs hanging over the side of the bed. Cursing, he turned away from her and got dressed. Maybe Phlox had some answers.

Giving one last look around his cabin, Malcolm disconnected the PADD from the terminal and started to leave, but stopped suddenly. It was obvious her insomnia had kept her up and a nagging guilt infiltrated his thoughts. Was it because of him? He had spent a few hours trying to get to sleep, his thoughts always ending up on their kiss in the lift.

Against his better judgment, he set the PADD down and knelt in front of her, hearing a soft snore emanate from her. She was sleeping soundly so he picked up her legs and placed them on the bed so she wasn't so twisted. She sighed in her sleep and moved her face away from him. Unable to resist, he touched the ebony hair that was still pulled severely back into her traditional ponytail. The clip gave way easily and her hair fanned out in relief, finally able to rest like its mistress.

Coming to his senses, he covered her sleeping form with a blanket.

A deep longing stirred within him. He wanted her. It was a basic truth, an inescapable truth. Of its own volition, his hand reached out to touch the familiar silken strands, but a persistent scratch at the door told Malcolm his canine keeper had experienced enough freedom.

Standing, he clutched the PADD in his hand and opened the door, making his way to sickbay.

An exhaustive sleep holds no dreams, letting the mind and spirit rest and the body heal. Sounds pass in and out of the cusps of consciousness and smells encourage wakefulness. The smell of coffee could wake a dead person, but it merely stirred the woman sleeping in his bed. Malcolm continued to record his findings quietly and tapped away at the console.

�Cocking his head to one side, Porthos jumped off the bed and looked at the door expectantly. It was time for his master to come get him. It was 'daytime'.

Malcolm opened his door and let the dog out, following him a few yards down the hall and around the corner. He had to give the dog credit. Porthos' hearing was dead on.

"Good Morning, sir."

"Good Morning, Malcolm," Captain Archer yawned. "I hope Porthos didn't keep you up last night."

"He was no trouble at all, sir," Malcolm returned, his thoughts wandering to last night's events.

"We're on our way to breakfast. Would you like to join us," offered Jon as he vigorously petted Porthos.

"No thank you. I've already eaten." Mentally Malcolm chastised himself for lying to the captain, but he wanted to be there when she woke up. He didn't know why, but he needed to be there.

"Ok, then. I'll see you later tonight."

Watching the captain leave, Malcolm cautiously made his way back to his cabin, a sudden sense of impropriety overcoming him. It would not do to have the captain know who was sleeping in Malcolm�s cabin. The door hissed closed and Malcolm walked to his terminal to continue his search.

Phlox had been very curious and very helpful regarding the log, and did verify some deep tissue damage to his shoulder and torso. Malcolm had obviously suffered other injuries too � multiple healed fractures and deep scarring tissue. Phlox even assisted Malcolm in ascertaining the doctor�s identity by running the log through the Starfleet medical database. Of course, Dr. Steven Demarco was dead now. He had served onboard the Intrepid up to his death eleven years ago.

Two leads were left. He knew at one time, he was onboard the Intrepid, doing what he had no idea. Currently, the computer was searching for the second lead � Starfleet personnel by the name of Mukai. There were no hits returned regarding a Mukai on the Intrepid. The search was too broad. He didn't know if the Mukai was the woman's last or first name. But, he did know she was a field medic.

While the computer continued its search, Malcolm continued browsing the schematics and logs of the Intrepid, hoping for something to jog his memory. He yawned.

Rubbing her eyes, Hoshi sat up. She was so warm and an unfamiliar weight had settled on her hip. She must have been more tired that she thought for she was still wearing her complete uniform. That wasn't the reason she was hot though she realized as even breathing tickled her hearing. She peered over her shoulder panic her first reaction, but her memory of last night calmed her.

"The kiss�the two kisses," she thought and felt a flush rise in her cheek. She had to leave.

Twisting toward the edge of the bunk, Hoshi tried to wiggle out of his embrace, but his body was between her and the room. His hand wouldn't budge as it shifted position and wrapped around her midriff, happily inserting itself under the curve of her breast.

Moaning piteously, she stilled.

"We need to talk," her captor whispered against her ear.

"I� I have to go. I'm late for my duty shift," replied Hoshi, visions of his naked form flashing through her mind.

Reluctantly he removed his hand. "You have today off."

Rolling onto her back, she smirked up at him. "Since when do you assign shifts?"

"I�After you fell asleep, I went to sickbay and showed Phlox your findings and mentioned your insomnia. He's taken you off active duty for the next two days."

Brown eyes glared up at blue ones. "That's ridiculous! Where do you get off�"

He placed his finger on her lips and silenced her with his steely gaze. "I need your help."

Nodding slowly and wearily, Hoshi could only focus on the tingle his finger caused on her lips.

"I keep running into dead end searches on the computer because my security clearance isn't high enough," he sighed, removing his finger reluctantly from her lips. "I need your computer expertise and clearance to complete the searches I've instituted."

Hoshi looked down chagrined.

"Is that a problem?" asked Malcolm, seeing her discomfort grow.

Sitting up in bed and crossing her legs, Hoshi cleared her throat. "I� um� I hacked into the computer. I really don't have that kind of clearance."

He stared at her as though he didn't understand what she had said. Why would she do such a thing? Could he ask her to do it again? Would he? Then he noticed her downcast eyes and the slight blush to her cheeks, and he realized where they were. He swung around and grabbed his shirt. If it hadn't been for her presence in his bed, he would have slept in the nude. He still didn't much care for clothes.

"If you give me specific parameters for your search, I c�can hack back into the database and see what I can find�"

"Too risky," Malcolm interjected.

"Are you searching for the CMO or Mukai?" she asked without hesitation. "Because that's where I would start and the CMO alluded that Mukai was a woman and that she had the ho�"

"I know what the log said," he snapped, not really wanting to contemplate being with another woman. The woman he wanted was sitting on his bed determined to play sleuth, completely clueless as to what she did to his libido. "Dr. Phlox found the identity of the CMO � Dr. Delmarco on the Intrepid, and�"

Hoshi sprang from the bed excitedly. "That's wonderful! Have you been able to contact him and find�"

Malcolm watched her jumping about and grabbed her shoulders to keep her still. "He's dead."

"Have you started a search for Mukai?" she prattled endlessly. "It's a fairly common Japanese family name. Have you searched Starfleet medical personnel? Dr. Delmarco stated she was a field medic, right? I should be able to look up�"

"I wonder if she's the one who reminds me of you," Malcolm stated out loud, his fingers flexing on her arms, the space between them minimal, yet the unseen space between them growing. Like watching clouds cover the sun, he watched the excitement in her eyes shutter close.

Twelve years! Twelve years of nothing. Twelve years of being nobody of knowing no one. Now he didn't even know himself, the only constant in his life was the woman who stood in front of him.

Turning away from him, Hoshi turned toward his terminal. "I'll start with the medical personnel and�"

"We need to talk."

"About?" countered Hoshi, as she started to tap on the terminal.

"The glaringly obvious pink elephant in the room."

"I don't see a pink elephant."

He couldn't help but smile at her avoidance tactics. They were way better than his. Always a scoundrel, or at least he was now, Malcolm set out to address the issues between them. She was playing calm and collected right now, and he knew now was the time to knock her off balance.

Slowly, Malcolm turned Hoshi to face him, Hoshi resisting the entire way. Her dark almond-shaped eyes flashed and he gave her a lopsided grin as he moved to kiss her.

"Please� don't," she whispered, turning her head. "I can't� won't be a substitute for somebody you may have loved� you may still love."

Hearing the catch in her voice, he pulled away, cursing. He hadn't considered the ramifications � hurting her or the possibility that someone was waiting on him. For him, the beginning of his past started when he woke up and she spoke to him. She was all he knew. She was all he cared to know. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Hoshi nodded. "I'll just take this," she said, waving the PADD around, "and see what I can find."

Before he could respond, she was gone.

Her stomach growled in protest. Not only had she skipped breakfast, she skipped lunch too. Only one interruption had broken her concentration. Phlox had checked up on her, to offer her a sedative if she needed it. That was when she realized it was time for dinner. Declining the doctor's offer and assuring him that she had gotten enough sleep to choke a horse last night, Hoshi continued working at her terminal.�

She had searched through the entire Starfleet database for Mukai and had come up with eight possible matches. The only problem with those matches was they were all male. Chewing her lip contemplatively, she pushed away from the desk and rubbed her eyes. Information on Mukai was as elusive as information on Malcolm. It was as though someone had erased her as well, which left her no alternative. She was going to have to take a chance and hack deeper into the database again.

Cracking her knuckles, Hoshi hunkered down and prepared for another sleepless night. Although she doubted the back door she used to find the information on Malcolm still existed, she tried that first.

She drummed her fingers on the tabletop and waited for the uplink to be established, trying to keep her thoughts from straying toward Malcolm. He still seemed lost to her, but now there was something new about him. He seemed so unsure of himself his first week back. Now, he seemed �dangerous.

Was it her overactive imagination, or was it the fact that there was a certain intimacy between them now. Hoshi couldn't control her thoughts as they naturally meandered down the path she promised herself, she would never think about again.

The computer chirped and invaded her musings. Without wasting any time, she entered the search � Mukai, female, medical personnel. Mere seconds passed before the search returned results.

Her hand hovering over the button, she couldn't help but resent the summary of the search she found herself staring at. "Lieutenant Lita Mukai, Senior Field Medic, Sierens Division."

Excitement and dread pooled in her stomach. This had to be the woman Dr. Demarco referred to in the log. She would be able to help Malcolm, perhaps shed some light on his past. Envy crept erringly into her thoughts as she clicked for the entire article.

"Lieutenant Lita Mukai, Senior Field Medic, Sierens Division. Born January 14, 2120. Died May 17, 2147."

Hoshi's hopes sank. It was Mukai's obituary. Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, Hoshi numbly read the rest of the column.

"Ms. Mukai is survived by her mother, Nia Mukai. Services are May 20 at the Memorial Gardens, San Francisco, CA."

A picture accompanied the short, succinct summary of the woman's life. Except for subtle differences, Hoshi would have thought she was looking at a picture of herself. Mukai's hair was long and down around her shoulders, and the woman smiled to someone behind the camera. This had to be her.

He was the last one left, sitting alone in the mess hall. She hadn't come for dinner and Malcolm started to speculate whether or not Hoshi was okay. Finally tiring of pouring over the same specifications for the Intrepid, Malcolm sought her out. He squelched his usual propensity for seeking her out immediately, counting his obsession with her as something unnatural and unwelcome for her. She would have to seek him out.

She had shown him kindness and he felt like a heel for taking advantage it. He sipped the tepid coffee and stared at the mess hall door, silently daring it to open. Sleep eluded him and he wondered if her insomnia had rubbed off on him.�

As if the god of luck was smiling at him, the door slid open and Hoshi walked in. The set of her shoulders looked as though she had something weighing heavily upon her, but he remained in the shadows, not wanting to add to her burdens.

She sat down at the nearest table, unaware of her silent observer. The salad she chewed tasted like cardboard and the only sensation she registered as pleasant was the cool trickle of water down her throat, but even the water didn't go down easily. Hoshi had gone to Malcolm's quarters to show him what she had found, but he never answered.

Feeling like a failure, Hoshi stared down at the PADD in her hand. Certainly it wasn't her fault that Mukai was dead, but she felt like it was. She stared at picture. Was she smiling at Malcolm behind the camera? Was he taking the picture? She read the few words that summarized the woman's life. It was only a paragraph and not a very long one at that. It seemed so unfair � to have one's life defined in such a harsh way.

Unable to stop the tears, she let them fall freely, not even trying to wipe them away.

Hoshi sniffled and startled as the shadow in the corner moved and Malcolm made his presence known.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Dashing the tears away angrily, Hoshi clasped the PADD to her chest. She never cried and she hated for anybody to see her do so. It wasn't her fault the 'other woman' was dead. Why did it matter anyway? The evidence of his past was sketchy at best. They were drawing conclusions and Mukai may have absolutely no connection with Malcolm.

He stood over her, his worry over her outweighing his curiosity in the PADD she clutched to her chest. Kneeling next to her, Malcolm cautiously touched her sleeve and repeated his question. "What's wrong?"

"She's dead," she whispered.

"Who?"

Hoshi handed him the PADD. "Mukai."

It was like watching a bizarre accident, hopes and theories colliding and exploding into unrecognizable ash. He took the PADD and absorbed the information as though he were looking at a daily report. Staring at the picture, he willed his memory of this woman to surface.

Lita Mukai looked like Hoshi -- same shape face and jet black hair, those being the only resemblance. Even as the woman in the picture smiled, Malcolm could see a cold aloofness in her eyes, one that made him uneasy. Hoshi, on the other hand, held nothing but warmth and caring within her, and Malcolm embraced the decision to look no further for his past. His past, what was so obviously hidden from him, needed to stay in the past.

He clicked the PADD off and tossed it on the table and turned Hoshi in her chair. "You've got to stop this. How long did you spend looking for this? Have you gotten any more sleep? Did you eat?"

Each question was met with silence.

"You're pushing too hard� me and yourself," he said. "You've got to stop."

Hoshi looked up at him with an argument in her eyes, but was quickly silenced with a stern look.

"Please," he whispered and pulled up a chair. Grabbing her hands in his, he continued. "You need to stop looking for my past."

He silenced the last of her argument with a squeeze of his hands.

"It's hidden for a reason. I don't know what that reason is, but the more I find� you find� Well, I don't think I want to be the person I was. It's obviously upsetting you�"

"No it doesn't," she argued.

"Then why were you crying?"

She took a steadying breath. "Her obituary just seemed so short� so pointless. Mukai was twenty-seven when she died, and�"

"It doesn�t matter anymore. Can't you see?" Malcolm exhaled sharply. "I only remember you� when I woke up. I can't explain how I know some things but not others. I've read the schematics of weaponry and engineering and think to myself "Oh yeah, I remember that." As far as I'm concerned, my past started when I woke up. I'm tired of trying to force� memories to the surface. It's time to move on."

A long silence stretched between them, his thumb rubbing concentric patterns in the palm of her hand. Malcolm leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "In regards to � us� You're no substitute. She had dark hair and so do you. Other than that, I see little comparison. A man would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to be attracted to you."

Blushing, Hoshi looked away.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Malcolm squeezed her hands reassuringly and let them go. "If you need me, I'll be in my quarters."

She watched him leave, wanting to call out to him, yet unable. Picking up the PADD and turning it on, Hoshi deleted the information. He was moving forward, why shouldn't she?

Idleness was his constant enemy. Starfleet was still unwilling to release his record, which was fine with him, but they were also unwilling to reinstate him with full rank and privileges. Malcolm couldn't blame them. Not only did he have a huge hole in his memory, but he was grossly under qualified on today's systems. Some of the systems hadn't changed in eight years while some of them had. Most systems on board were classified and off limits to him. Those that weren't -- like the food replicator�well�he could probably take it apart and put it back together with his eyes closed.

Disgusted, Malcolm shoved the schematics aside and thought about the weapons systems. They fascinated him and he had read everything he could on civilian weaponry he could download onto his PADD. His reading material was dry as much as he was interested in the subject matter, he found himself unable to stay awake. Malcolm padded across the room to the shelves and picked up one of the books Hoshi had left him. He frowned at the title � "Linguistics Database: Vulcan." Flipping the cover open, he read the inscription on the backside out loud, "Happy fifth birthday, Hoshi-chan, Love, Mother and Father."

A Vulcan dictionary for a five-year-old? What had her parents been thinking? Why would they give a child a book like this? What kind of childhood had she had?

Picking his PADD up, Malcolm pulled up the saved information � Hoshi's Starfleet record. He was avoiding her for her sake and his and hadn't seen her in a week. Wishing it revealed more details about her life before Starfleet, Malcolm perused her record. The first thing he noticed was her age. She was only twenty-four � pretty young for a lieutenant.

According to Phlox, Malcolm was thirty-four � ten years her senior. That provided even more basis for keeping his distance from her, but Malcolm knew he had no such intentions. She graduated second in her class and had been a professor at the University of Brazil in the linguistics department before her first tour on board Enterprise. She received a commendation for her work on the Klingon language and was promoted to lieutenant during her second tour.

No wonder she suffered from insomnia. The thought of having that much on his plate at that age made him cringe. Malcolm snapped the book shut and made to leave. It was time to return the Vulcan book to its owner � a flimsy excuse, but it would have to do.

She really wasn't a clock-watcher, but Hoshi found herself constantly looking at the clock as the minutes slowly clicked away. Her Vulcan taskmaster had over estimated the time it was going to take to translate the Pandian message, but Hoshi wasn't going to let on that she was finished. She needed to grab a quick dinner and head to bed. Tonight was the night for some serious sleep.

It had been a week since Hoshi hadn't gotten any decent amount of sleep. It had actually been a week and one day since then and she felt the exhaustion to her bones.

A tapping on her shoulder brought her out of her wonderings with a startle.

"Sorry, Ensign Sato, I didn't mean to startle you," her shift replacement stated.

"No problem," replied Hoshi and left the bridge.

She barely registered the turbolift as it carried her to her destination. In the back of her mind, Hoshi hoped she was on the right deck as the made her way to her cabin. Barley noticing the light level in the halls dimming, Hoshi did notice the shadow of the man leaning against her door. Any hopes she had of sleeping tonight vanished, but in the pit of her stomach she welcomed his intrusion as the butterflies started fluttering wildly.

Taking a calming breath, Hoshi approached him wearily. "Is there something I can help you with, Lieutenant Commander?"

The inflection of her voice and the set of her shoulders spoke volumes. Lieutenant Commander? Malcolm watched her key in her code and walk into her quarters. She was trying to establish barriers and that sparked something new inside him. He liked a good challenge.

"I was going through the books you lent me and wanted to return this one in the event it held any special significance for you," he stated slyly and stepped into her cabin, holding the Vulcan book out to her.

The door hissed shut behind him.

Great! Now he's in my quarters! How am I supposed to get rid of him now? Hoshi looked longingly at her bed, and then looked at the book he offered her.

Snatching the book from him, Hoshi quickly glanced at it and tossed it onto her desk. "Thank you," she replied tersely.

Malcolm cleared his throat and coughed. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Yes," replied Hoshi quickly, kicking her boots off. She ignored the growling of her stomach.

He heard her stomach growling and knew she had lied. Obviously the indirect approach wasn't going to work with her. "I still want you," he stated huskily, his eyes catching hers.

Hoshi stared at him, unsure as to what she just heard. Part of her registered his statement and urged her to reply. Why not give in to the inevitable? He was free after all�free from the past. Besides, she was probably already asleep and having a really good dream. Why shouldn't she enjoy herself?

Malcolm could have taken her silence in one of two ways�encouragement or disdain. He went with the first and reached for her, sweeping his hands up her arms to encircle her neck. "I want to watch you as I take you," he whispered against her lips, his eyes staring into her half-lidded ones.

"Yes," Hoshi agreed and returned his kiss with giddy abandon.

The noise was too persistent to ignore any longer as it penetrated the fog of her dream. Suddenly her alarm stopped beeping and Hoshi realized she wasn't alone. An unfamiliar weight circled her waist and pulled her closer. She froze as hazy memories replayed in her mind.

"Uh, oh," whispered Malcolm. "Isn't it a little late for second thoughts?"

It was too late. She couldn't pretend she was still asleep. The irony didn't escape her either. Here she was in the arms of the man she had been fantasizing about ever since she met him and she couldn't remember making love to him. And he was the one with amnesia?

Watching her reflection in the mirror, Malcolm could see her confused thoughts and couldn't resist leading her astray. He should have recognized that she was dead on her feet last night. There was no way that he could have taken advantage of her in that condition. Reluctantly, he let go of her and rolled toward the wall, stretching the morning kinks out. His almost-lover sprung from the bed in her regulation blues and bolted for the bathroom.

Malcolm was sitting up in bed, clad only in his boxers by the time she came out of the bathroom, her shirtfront soaked from where she had splashed cold water on her face. A look of confusion still reigned supreme on her face.

Chuckling, Malcolm stood up and started to get dressed, a war waging within him. Should he tell her the truth about last night, or let her wonder about it? He tugged the zipper of his gray jumpsuit up and grinned. For some reason, he felt evil. "I'll see you tonight."

The kiss was quick and to the point, leaving Hoshi with more questions than answers.

"Lieutenant�ready room�now," Captain Jonathan Archer's clipped tone sounded grim.

The impending feeling of shit hitting the fan loomed before her. Either a really big translation was coming up or the Captain needed her for something personal, like babysitting Porthos.

Hoshi followed him into his ready room and braced for whatever additional duties he was sure to assign. She startled as soon as the door closed behind her.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Archer queried rather loudly. He was standing in front of her, his hands behind his back.

She paled. "Sir?"

"Your hacking!" Archer accused. "You were searching for information on Lieutenant Commander Reed. His record is sealed for a reason, Lieutenant. Did that ever occur to you? What you did is a court martial offense. You're lucky you aren't busted down to crewman second class for this stunt."

Remaining silent, Hoshi shifted uneasily.

"Luckily, Admiral Forrest is willing to overlook your serious lapse in judgment and is not going to press charges," Jon stated grimly and ran his hand through his already disheveled hair. "Well?"

Hoshi stared at him, her eyes wide with shock. Did he ask a question? This discussion seemed surreal and she felt like she was dreaming. "Uh."

"What-were-you-thinking?" Jon enunciated each syllable, his irritation growing.

Hoshi felt the back of her eyelids start to sting and she swallowed the lump that grew in her throat.

"Well?" Jon persisted, wanting a serious answer because he had just spent the last hour convincing Admiral Forrest not to court-martial his com officer.

"I � I was just trying to h � help him," Hoshi whispered, looking straight ahead and blinking rapidly.

Shoulders slumping, Jon sighed. "Your personal access to ships systems has been revoked. You will have to go through T'Pol for access codes to the universal translator. Other than that, you are confined to your quarters. Dismissed."

--

Buzzing her quarters again, Malcolm waited impatiently. He knew she was in there for there was nowhere else for her to go. He looked over his shoulder, thankful Captain Archer hadn't actually posted a security detail at her quarters. Archer had been very implicit that Malcolm have no further contact with Hoshi, but Malcolm just couldn't let her take the brunt of the punishment alone and leave with nothing said.

He knocked on the door. "I know you're in there, Hoshi. I'll force the lock. I know how to do it," Malcolm said through the door, trying to keep his voice low and not draw attention to himself. He held his breath and hoped the threat worked.

Finally the door opened and a belligerent looking Hoshi stood arms crossed and staring at him.

Ignoring her obvious defensive posture, Malcolm pushed past her and closed the door behind him. "I know it's little consolation, but I'm sorry about�everything."

He looked lost again, the confidence he had gained in the past few weeks no longer in his demeanor. Hoshi moved to reassure him and touched his arm.

"I told Captain Archer I had asked for your help and�"

"It's okay, Malcolm. I�"

"--There really wasn't any sensitive material that �"

"�Take full responsibility, and I�"

"�Was accessed. It's not like you found anything."

"�Will accept�"

"A Vulcan transport will arrive in three days for transport to Earth."

"�Full�You're leaving?" Hoshi's voice trailed off, barely a whisper.

Malcolm nodded. "Three days."

"It's not fair," she wanted to scream. Personal relationships were always so perverse to her, she never having the time to properly develop them. Enterprise was the closest thing she had to family. Intimacy was another matter entirely. Sure, she knew the basic mechanics of sex, but she wasn't very experienced. Intimacy with Malcolm was�well�she wished memorable, but the truth was that she just didn't remember it. Now he stood in front of her telling her that he was going to be leaving in three days. It just wasn't fair.

"I see," she replied.

"You never would have done such a foolish thing and jeopardized your career, so maybe it's for the best. After all, I �"

His thoughts and words were lost as Hoshi pressed her lips to his, her seeking immediate admission and him granting it without hesitation.

Not wanting to think anymore, Hoshi arched forward, pressing herself into him, rubbing her breasts against his chest.

The desperation in her actions silently whispered to him, and chastised him for his behavior this morning. Reluctantly, Malcolm broke the kiss and gently pushed her away. He had no intentions of becoming intimate with her now, especially since he would be leaving soon. "Hoshi," his voice low and belying his sense of arousal, "about last night."

The darkness in her almond-shaped eyes stared back at him in silence.

"Nothing happened," he admitted. "You were exhausted, and practically passed out in my arms. I should have seen it, but�"

A flood of emotions overwhelmed her as his admission cut through the miasma of her excitement � anger, acceptance and forgiveness. "I forgive you."

"But�"

"I said I forgive you," she whispered against his lips. "Now shut up and make good on your promise."

Bewilderment crossed over his face. "What promise?"

"You'll see," Hoshi grinned and nibbled his earlobe. "Just keep your eyes opened, like you promised."

Lost in the desire Hoshi sparked within him, Malcolm moved his hands up and down her back, quickly moving to the front of her jumpsuit and tugging on the zipper to her uniform. As he pushed the material from her body, he pushed her Henley away, moving his mouth lower and over the skin he exposed.

As Malcolm suckled the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck, Hoshi groaned, tipping her head back and inviting more. He helped her step out of her uniform and lifted both of his hands to cup her breasts. Within their next kiss, he sipped at her raspy sigh and feathered his fingertips over her skin.

He kicked his boots and jumpsuit off, ripping the Henley from his chest. Lifting her easily, Malcolm carried her to the bed. Hoshi's eyes were darker than he had ever seen, calling for him and pleading with him for completion. He knelt before her.

"Please, Malcolm."

With her words, he pushed his way inside her and quickly established the frenzied rhythm toward completion.

--

Malcolm stared grimly at the ceiling and ignored the tingle in his arm. She was asleep and that was all that mattered to him. He hadn't meant for things to go as far as they had. Well, actually he did, but their�his circumstances had changed so drastically within the past few hours. He didn't intend to bed her and leave her, but he had his orders. His future was uncertain at best, his past still shrouded in mystery.

"Thank you, Sub-Commander," Hoshi stated professionally and took the PADD from T'Pol. It had the codes she would need today.

"You're welcome," replied the Vulcan, unaware to Hoshi's growing discomfort. By now, everybody should know what she had done and what her 'punishment' was. Having spent the entire day before relieved of duty and restricted to her quarters, she felt that she was a child being sent to her room. Kids should be sent to their room. Her brothers enjoyed it. After all, that's where all of their toys were.

She was never sent to her room for reprimand. Instead, her parents would make her study another language or translate something from an alien news document. Sure, Hoshi was glad to be back on duty even though her duties were restricted, but she could hardly wait to get back to her quarters now. Malcolm was there, waiting for her.

For a man with little memories, he certainly remembered how to please a woman. What sleep she did get last night was deep and relaxing. She didn't mind the times he woke her with a stroke or a kiss. They only had two days left. After that, their relationship was done. As much as she wanted to believe his whispered promises last night, she knew the long distance thing would never work. She made no promises to him last night.

Her career was definitely down the toilet due to the hacking incident. She owed Captain Archer. She could have very well wound up in front of a court martial tribunal if it hadn't been for his intervention. In the wee hours of the morning, Malcolm had finally turned the light off to get some sleep. His eyes had remained wide open, his blue eyes penetrating her brown ones as surely as his body penetrated hers. When the lights went out, she woke, her worries over the next two days and the eventual goodbye, which was soon to come.

She needed to remain emotionally detached. She could do that right? If any lesson had been passed down from her parents it had been that, right? To remain detached. That way it wouldn't hurt as much when Malcolm left.

A small chirp sounded in her ear, signaling an incoming transmission. It was garbled and Hoshi was barely able to make out the words, but she welcomed the distraction. Was it the Vulcan ship early? Her heart sank. Checking the transponder signal, Hoshi frowned. It didn't match a ship of Vulcan registry.

"Sir, I have an incoming transmission," Hoshi stated, pushing the earpiece to her ear.

Archer rose from his chair and stood over her in silence.

"I can't make anything out, sir. They're still too far away." Hoshi looked back and forth from her console to the PADD, quickly entering the code she needed to boost the communication's array signal. The computer continued searching for the mystery ship's identity.

An uneasy filling settled in the pit of her stomach.

Stretching the kinks out, Malcolm padded across Hoshi's cabin to the shower. He opened the door and her scent assailed him -- a scent that he knew he could get used to. Hardly getting any sleep last night, Malcolm looked at his rough appearance in the mirror. If he closed his eyes, he could picture her and feel her hands move over his body and his desire for her grow.

It was time for a cold shower now. She was on duty and he was left to�do nothing. Maybe it was a good thing that the Vulcans were coming for him. Perhaps it was best for him to go back to Earth. Maybe there was something there, which could spark his memory and make him whole again. Last night had changed his outlook on his past�He loved Hoshi, but he had nothing to offer her.

Guilt settled over his sated mood, and Malcolm scratched the stubbled-growth of his beard. He didn't know why he hadn't told her how he felt last night, only letting snippets of his feelings toward her slip as they made love last night.

There were no responses, but only passionate sighs and soft encouragements as they explored one another.

He stepped under the shower, gasping as the cold water hit his back. He would talk to her later tonight.

"It's a hauler, ECS registry, The Kami," Hoshi announced. "They are still out of range, but it's not a distress signal."

"Travis, move to intercept," Archer commanded. Obviously, they wanted or needed something. "When will we be in range?"

"Five minutes," informed Travis.

He sat on his bunk and sighed, watching the time as it ticked by. Maybe he could speak with her at lunch.

"�Enterprise come in--," a desperate voice broke through the static."

"This is Enterprise. Do you require assistance?" Hoshi replied.

A static-fill pause was Hoshi's only response and Hoshi routed the external com system to the speakers at her station. Frustrated, she pulled the earpiece from her ear.

"This is Enterprise. Do you require assistance?" Hoshi repeated.

"Yes�looking�olm Reed," a voice called out. "�in danger."

Hoshi heard the female voice and her lover's name mentioned and the dread in the pit of her stomach grew.

"Repeat�He's in danger."

"This is Captain Archer. Can you repeat your message? You're still breaking apart."

"Do you hear me?" the voice grew clearer.

"Sir, I've got a visual," Hoshi called out.

"Put it on screen, Lieutenant."

A female figure appeared on the screen, static marring her features, but her voice rang out clear. "This is Captain Mako. I have an urgent message for Lieutenant Commander Malcolm Reed."

"Go ahead," Archer encouraged, wondering how anybody knew Reed was on Enterprise. According to Forrest, nobody knew he was on board. It wasn't public knowledge.

"I have reason to believe Lieutenant Commander Reed's life is in danger."

As Enterprise drew closer to the Kami, the figure cleared.

Hoshi recognized the woman immediately, the sinking feeling in her stomach turning to stone. The hair was cut shorter, pageboy style, and the older woman had aged well. Lita Mukai.

Feeling light headed, Hoshi stood up. "Lita Mukai."

Hearing her name spoken after all these years, Mukai stared at Hoshi. "What did you say?"

Feeling the sting of tears threaten, Hoshi whispered the woman's name again. "Mukai."

The other woman's pallor quickly turned ashen as she braced herself. "Is my husband okay? May I see him?"

"Captain, how�" Archer's voice held as much amazement as disbelief.

"It's a long story, Captain Archer," Mukai replied. "May I dock?"

Jon nodded. "Travis, extend the port docking clamps."

Blood pounded in Hoshi's ears as her thoughts ran rampant through her mind. "Mukai's husband�Malcolm�the danger�the irony." She wanted to laugh. She wanted to scream. She wanted to�

Captain Archer put a hand on her shoulder, startling her. "Hoshi?" The concern in his voice mirrored his suspicions. Ever since Malcolm had come aboard, he knew Hoshi was attracted to the man. "It seems you know Captain Mukai."

Looking down at her console, Hoshi started to speak. "It was a medical log. That's what I found first, when I�was searching for information on the Lieutenant Commander. It mentioned Mukai. The log was a dead end until I�hacked into the database again. I found her obituary."

Jon puzzled, "I don't understand. How�"

"Sir, I'm not sure of anything myself," Hoshi answered. She clearly looked puzzled. "I request permission to inform Lieutenant Commander Reed that his wife will be joining us soon."

The Captain nodded his approval and frowned. This was turning out to be quite a mystery. Forrest had asked him to trust him, but now he was starting to doubt the Admiral's reasoning behind keeping Reed's record sealed.

Standing outside his quarters, Hoshi's heart was pounding in her chest. She had checked her quarters first, but he wasn't there. She wiped the tears from her cheeks as they flowed freely and pressed the buzzer.

He opened the door with a smile, which quickly turned to a frown. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Steeling her nerves, Hoshi's voice barely whispered, "She's alive." She couldn't meet his gaze.

Malcolm remained silent, concerned with Hoshi's pallor and completely unaware his future hung in the balance.

"You've got to come with me," she muttered, barely able to meet his eyes.

"Hoshi, what is it? What's wrong?" he questioned and pulled her against him.

For the barest of moments, Hoshi returned his embrace, silently saying her own goodbye to the man she had come to�love. She pulled away with a sad smile on her face. "Mukai is alive. She's docking alongside now and wants to talk with you." She could feel him tense immediately, and couldn't bring herself to tell him that Mukai was his wife.

She pulled on his arm in motion to follow her, but Malcolm didn't move and didn't say anything. A dark urgency passed over him and he shook his head unable to grasp the memory that threatened to surface.

"Please, Malcolm. You've got to follow me. She says you're in danger. Captain Archer is speaking with her now," Hoshi pleaded.

Seeing her desperation, Malcolm started to follow her, but stopped suddenly. "Do you love me?"

Dropping Malcolm's hand, Hoshi bowed her head and lied, "I�I don't�know."

"This way, Captain," Jon nodded to the woman who stepped through the airlock. He could tell she had been crying, but Jon was still a little confused as to how Captain 'Mako' knew Malcolm Reed was on board.

They walked in silence to the Captain's mess.

"Please, have a seat," Archer stated simply, quickly taking the seat across from her. "Would you care to explain to me, how you knew, Lieutenant Commander Reed was on board. It isn't really public knowledge."

Bowing her head, Lita wiped the single tear that slid down her cheek. "As you probably already know, my name is not Lina Mako. It's Lita Mukai. I faked my death several years ago to avoid�the death threats. I was senior field medic for an elite offshoot of Starfleet Intelligence. The political, socio-economic messes that the politicians wanted to keep off the books�they sent us in to deal with those. The matters which decent people never speak of in polite conversation � our division was sent to deal with those matters."

Archer nodded his encouragement for her to continue.

"I won't give mission specifics, but on our last mission, everything went wrong. A third of our unit was killed. Some were captured, and tortured for information. Those of us, who got away, were systematically hunted down and killed. My husband�Malcolm�I thought he's been dead all this time."

"That still doesn't explain how you knew he was here," Jon surmised shrewdly.

Mukai sniffled into her handkerchief and looked up. "About a week ago, somebody tripped a computer failsafe I had installed. It isn't everyday, somebody pulls up an old obituary. I tracked down the origin of the search back to Enterprise. I intercepted some of your transmissions and learned Malcolm had been recovered."

Admission that she had tapped into the communications of Enterprise didn't sit well with him, but her explanation was plausible. Besides, it wasn't as if any of the messages were encoded.

"I can't believe," Mukai sniffed, "that after all these years, he's still alive."

"Um," Jon paused, "There's something you should know about Malcolm."

With each step they took toward the mess hall in silence, something twisted deep inside Hoshi's chest. She paused outside the door, feeling as though she were delivering a prisoner to an executioner. Motioning to the door, she managed to keep her voice even and cool. "The captain's mess is on the other side of the room. She's waiting for you there."

He looked at the door sadly.

Hoshi turned to walk away, but Malcolm grabbed her. "Wait, please."

"Please," whispered Hoshi, shaking her head sadly. She was unable to look at him, yet unable to pull away from him.

Malcolm pulled her into his arms, embracing her softly, almost afraid that she would break. Feeling as though he was being split in two, Malcolm continued to hold her.�

His past was through that door, but he was holding his future. "I love you." His eyes held hers, and though no other words were exchanged between the pair, his gaze spoke of promise and trust. Finally he released his hold on her, nodded, and turned away from her and faced the captain's mess.

She watched him walked through the door, the tears that had been threatening to spill finally letting loose.

Jon sat forward in his chair. Mukai's argument was solid, and he knew he couldn't argue it. She had been surprised about Malcolm's memory loss and the Malcolm's condition upon being rescued. She was convinced Malcolm was in danger, that forces were moving against her husband. If she was able to track Malcolm down, they were not far behind her. The Vulcans were due to rendezvous tomorrow. Time was of the essence.

The door opened and his musings were cut short. Watching Malcolm walk wearily into the room, Jon noticed Malcolm walk to the opposite side of the table next to him. Malcolm never took his eyes off of Mukai and her gaze never left Malcolm. It was obvious Malcolm didn't remember his wife, but the look in his eyes was actually one of suspicion and that puzzled Jon. Mukai, on the other hand, was frozen, her eyes wide and wet, filled with emotion.

"Malcolm, would you like me to leave so that you can become better acquainted with your wife," asked Jon, standing.

Malcolm paled. "My wife?"

Blanching, Jon realized Hoshi must not have told Malcolm about Mukai's claim on him.

Malcolm stared at the woman across the table, unable to comprehend his connection to her and noticing her clenched fists and lowered head. "I�I'm sorry, but I don't remember you."

She looked up sadly. "That's not important, Malcolm. What is important is that you come with me immediately. I can take you to someplace safe and � "

"I'm not going with you," stated Malcolm simply with a shake of his head.

"Malcolm, you at least need to hear her � "

"I don't �"

"But, you're in danger!" insisted Mukai.

"From whom?" Malcolm asked, leaning forward onto the table and glaring at the woman. Something about her didn't set right with him and he didn't trust her.

"Malcolm, you really should hear what she has to say," Archer asserted, trying to keep the conversation from turning hostile.

Malcolm glared at the solemn woman across the table, not wanting to listen, yet needing to.

Hesitantly smiling, Mukai addressed Archer quietly, unable to understand Malcolm's hostility toward her, yet realizing he would listen to the Captain. Archer was his voice of reason at this point. "Thank you."

She turned her gaze back to Malcolm. "Your captain was explaining that his com officer helped hack into the Starfleet database. That's what tipped me off that you were still alive. Shortly after that, I received another alert that somebody was looking into my file. That hit did not originate from Enterprise. If I was able to find you, those who wish us dead are sure to find you. They are ruthless and will stop at nothing to capture you." She paused, her darks eyes wild with unshed tears. "If they realize that you are alive, they will kill anybody who you've been in contact with for fear that they know something. They will hunt every last � "

"I'll go," whispered Malcolm, feeling as though he had been kicked in the gut. By virtue of just knowing him, Hoshi was in danger. Intuition guided him to the right decision regarding her safety even though the intuition for self-preservation screamed for him to stay where he was.

Surprised Malcolm had given in so quickly, Jon quietly outlined the rest of the plan he and Malcolm's wife had devised. "We'll buy you as much time as you need to get away. From what your�wife has told me, these individuals won't stop until your dead, so we'll arrange for an accident and have you cremated with enough DNA evidence to back up the story. I've got Dr. Phlox working on creating some tissue as we speak."

"Yes, yes," Mukai said nervously. "That will have to do for now. Hopefully, that will buy us enough time. My ship is capable of warp four. If you could stall them as long as possible, that will take us out of sensor range."

"How long do I have?" murmured Malcolm sullenly. "When do we leave?"

"Now," Mukai affirmed.

She didn't want to think. She didn't want to feel, and welcomed the numbing quality of her work. Looking at her console, Hoshi watched the minutes tick by. Malcolm's future wasn't hers to claim.

The door to the bridge opened and Captain Archer strode grimly up to her. "Lieutenant, Lieutenant Commander Reed is leaving within the hour. You have the rest of the day off." He hadn't been too pleased when Malcolm had informed him of the intimate nature of his relationship with Hoshi, but there hadn't been any regulations broken, so Jon simply nodded his understanding and came to relieve Hoshi. His com officer deserved more than a simple goodbye from Malcolm, but even Jon could understand Reed's reason for leaving. He would have done to same to protect someone he cared about.

Without argument, Hoshi nodded and walked off the bridge. Indecision gripped her as she contemplated going to Malcolm's quarters and seeing him. Would his wife be there? Had seeing her triggered any memories? She punched the button to his deck, finally deciding that she wasn't going to let him go without answers to her questions. He owed her that much.

Standing in the middle of his cabin, Malcolm realized he had nothing to call his own. Not even the clothes on his back were his. Mukai had gone back to her ship, giving him an hour to collect his things and say goodbye. He was wary of the woman, unable to explain his trepidation around the veritable stranger. On the other hand, her presence excited him. Perhaps, she was the key�the key to unlock his memory.

The sound of his door chime pulled him away from his thoughts.

"Come in," called Malcolm, hoping it was Hoshi wanting to come in. He wasn't disappointed.

Smiling uneasily, Hoshi closed the door behind her. "How much longer do you have?"

"An hour," replied the sullen man.

"Good," whispered Hoshi, approaching him. "That gives me just enough time to show you how much I do love you."

Shedding no tears as she walked him to the airlock, Hoshi felt the tears threaten as they ultimately reached their final destination. Malcolm's hair was tousled and their clothing was somewhat lacking in professional decorum. They had both lost track of the time and had been rudely interrupted by a hail from Mukai, which didn't allot them any time to compose themselves.

No words were spoken and no promises made as Malcolm kissed her one last time then walked through the airlock.

The Kami was roughly the size of two shuttlepods thrown together. It was made for transport with jutting connectors for running cargo pods. When the Kami had no cargo, the ship was capable of warp four. Malcolm stepped through the hatch and watched as it closed behind him, a sense of alarm suddenly overriding his calm. The air was musky and heavy, as though various spices hung in the air.

Grasping an upper railing, Malcolm steadied himself as the ship disconnected from Enterprise and went to warp. Mukai piloted the ship with quiet efficiency, hardly acknowledging the return of her husband.

Various weapons from various species peppered the inner hull, showing the ship's mistress's fondness for her collection.

The console to her left beeped and Mukai quickly answered it. "Yes�I don't know�Yes�I'm transmitting the coordinates now."

Warily, Malcolm approached 'his wife'. "What was that?"

Calmly removing her headset, Mukai leaned forward and reached for something underneath the piloting console.

He didn't see it coming, nor did he hear her cruel words as his world went dark.

"Why couldn't you just stay dead? This time I won't make the same mistake."

Hoshi stared at the communications console numbly, visions of Mukai's ship leaving still dancing in her head. She didn't want to stay in her quarters. The quiet only reminded her Malcolm was gone. So, she was back on duty, convinced that hard work was the answer to exorcise his memory from her heart.

"Sir, sensors indicate three Nausican cruisers closing in at maximum warp. They're targeting us!" Lieutenant Rains called out from the tactical station.

"Polarize the hull plating," instructed Archer calmly. "Hoshi, open a channel."

"Aye, Sir."

"This is Jonathan Archer � "

The ship rocked violently as a volley of phase cannon fire hit Enterprise.

"Return fire," the Captain instructed. "Maximum yield."

Another blast shook the ship.

"What the hell was that?"

"Sir, there are hull breaches on decks E and F."

"Emergency bulkheads!" shouted Archer as an explosion sparked on the bridge. He watched in sickening amazement as his armory officer flew toward him through the thickening smoke.

Jon felt for a pulse and cursed. Lieutenant Rains was dead. Tactical was destroyed and emergency crews were running around and attending the wounded. He looked over his shoulder and saw Travis at the helm, holding on as the ship took another round of weapons fire. Starfleet had encountered the Nausicans before, but they had never demonstrated this kind of firepower.

He jumped into the Captain's chair and accessed tactical on the arm panel. Enterprise was bleeding and the Nausicans weren't letting up. The ship trembled again and suddenly stopped. On screen he could see a Vulcan cruiser pursuing Enterprise's attackers.

"Trip, damage report," Archer called down to engineering.

Static greeted him with intermittent bursts of his friend's Southern drawl. "We're dead�the water, Cap �"

The com went dead. Crouching next to another crewmen, Archer tended to the woman. "Everything's going to be okay."

He hated the tropics. This was no exception as he crouched down and targeted the installation. Glancing over his shoulder, his superior gave the order to move in. Starfleet didn't take too kindly to having their research and development usurped by foreign governments. They had their orders. Recover the design plans and destroy any evidence the team was there.

Captain Zamora cut in front of him, followed closely by Mukai. "Take the rear, Reed."

The team busted into the facility and Reed shielded his eyes as the brightness of the explosion flashed before him. The blast rolled toward him and he felt the heat of it take his breath away, knocking him to his knees.

Somebody had tipped the Nausican raiders off. When the smoke cleared, another horrific sight met his eyes. Captain Zamora lay dead at the feet of Mukai, who had a knife in her hand. He had known someone on the inside was working with the Nausicans, but they covered their tracks well. "You!" he screamed, feeling his lover's betrayal cutting through his soul.

Turning her cold eyes on him, Mukai lifted her phase rifle and stunned him.

He opened his eyes, the memories of betrayal and death seeping into his consciousness.

"Enterprise is crippled. They aren't going anywhere," a voice called out.

Someone banged something metallic, and Malcolm started. He tried to turn around and see where he was, but his hands were tied above his head.

"They should be destroyed!" shouted an irritated voice. "Those modified phase cannons should have ripped through their hull plating with no problems. There's no telling what he told them. I'm going to have to � "

"You're the one who pleaded for his life," retorted the other voice. "Why is he still alive?"

"I � It was a mistake," hissed Mukai. "He would have been a valuable asset if I had been able to turn him. Now, he's nothing more than a liability. As my liability, I will deal with him. I need to see who knows I'm alive."

Malcolm groaned and his captor greeted him. "Hello, Malcolm."

A placid face stared back at Archer from the screen. "May we render assistance, Captain?" Captain R'bora asked.

For a highly intelligent people, Jon couldn't help but laugh at the Vulcan's stupid question. "Yes," he chuckled in relief.

The lift doors opened and Commander Tucker walked onto the bridge. "Cap'n, the intake manifolds took quite a beatin', but I can get us up to warp three in a couple of hours."

"Sir, I have an incoming transmission from Admiral Forrest," Hoshi called out.

"Put it through to my ready room," Archer instructed as he made his way there.

Walking into his ready room, Jon quickly sat down and switched the communication on.

"Jon, what the hell is going on?" Forrest questioned, worry clearly etched on his face. "I got a distress signal routed through Ambassador Soval that Enterprise was under attack. What the --"

"Phlox is treating the wounded. There were�two casualties�Rains and Stevens. We'll have warp three in a few hours. The Nausicans � "

"Nausicans?" Forrest leaned forward onto his desk, the weight of his command clearly furrowed in his brow.

"Yes," Jon stated, scratching his chin.

"Is Lieutenant Commander Reed still on board? Is he safe?" Forrest asked calmly.

Hesitating, Jon barely nodded his head as he remembered Mukai's warning.

"Where is he?" Forrest repeated.

The admiral seemed earnest and a doubt lingered in Archer's mind. "Why is his record sealed?"

"Do the Nausicans have him?"

"Why is his record sealed?" Jon repeated the question.

Admiral Forrest exhaled loudly. "A little over eight years ago, Starfleet was developing � a prototype phase cannon, similar to the ones on Enterprise. The weapons facility on Jupiter Station was raided and the research was stolen. The team was looking into a different power source for the weapon other than the warp engines. The Lieu � "

"That would explain what the Nausicans hit us with," Jon stated, visibly relaxing.

Admiral Forrest continued. "The Lieutenant Commander was an undercover operative. Starfleet Intel had narrowed down the leak regarding phase cannon development to the Sierens Division, but � "

Archer blanched. "Mukai," he whispered hoarsely. Instead of protecting Malcolm, he had delivered him into danger willingly.

The smoke had cleared from the bridge and Hoshi shifted uneasily in her chair. What was she to do? There really wasn't much for her to do except coordinate communications between Enterprise and the T'Vala. At least Captain Archer had taken her aside and briefed her regarding Malcolm's status.

"I know you have feelings for the Lieutenant Commander," Jon stated, putting up his hands as his com officer tried to protest. "I spoke with Admiral Forrest and I just thought you ought to know what is going on. Lita Mukai is not Malcolm's wife. She never was. She's a traitor and wanted on several counts of espionage. I'm not going to go into anymore details, but I just wanted to let you know that we are going after him once the warp engines are back online."

�She clenched her fist on her console, rage over how stupid she had been. She should have asked more questions. She should have trusted her instinct.

"Sir, the mains are back on line. We can manage warp two at this point," Commander Tucker's voice rang out.

Archer turned to his science officer. "T'Pol, any luck tracking down their warp trail?"

Hoshi stared pensively at the Vulcan and held her breath.

"There is a faint signature heading twelve zero nine mark two," T'Pol remarked after completing her calculations.

Archer nodded. "Travis, lay in a course, warp two."

"Aye, sir," replied Travis.

"Sir, there's an incoming transmission from the T'Vala," Hoshi called out.

"Put them through."

"Captain, I'm perplexed by your reasoning. Your intake manifolds are still ruptured, yet you're at warp and heading into Nausican space. Your logic is flawed," Captain R'bora stated.

"Your concern is noted." Archer looked at Hoshi and moved his hand across his throat.

Nodding, Hoshi terminated the communication.

"Hello, Malcolm," Mukai greeted.�

Shaking his head as partial memories surfaced, Malcolm grimaced. His hands were tied above his head and his legs were tied to something he couldn't see. The amber lighting in the shuttle highlighted the dreadful feeling that seeped into his wakening state. His head throbbed as if he had hit it when he fell down.

"I always did enjoy you when you were playing the strong silent type," Mukai stated wickedly, tracing her hand over his flank. "I'm almost tempted to offer you the same deal I gave you so long ago. I'm a sucker for a strong lover. Nausicans just don't do a thing for me."

Her hands wondered lower as she continued to check him for weapons. "That was quite an act you put on back there for Captain Archer. You almost had me believing that you have amnesia. That must have been really convenient for you."

Malcolm listened to her words, most of them not making any sense to him.

Mukai kneeled in front of him and completed her search. Finally satisfied, she sat back on her haunches and looked up at him. "You know, I could make life very pleasant for you. We could pretend it's like old times."

Sighing, she stood up and leaned into him. "Don't you remember the incredible sex we would have after the adrenaline rush of a mission?"

She darted her tongue across his earlobe and Malcolm pulled away, innately repulsed.

Anger flashing in her eyes, Mukai pulled back. "Just close your eyes and pretend I'm that com officer, Malcolm," Mukai taunted. "You always did have a propensity for Asian women."

The conversation still wasn't making any sense to him, but he finally managed to speak. "What do you want?"

Scoffing, Mukai started pacing in front of her captive. "I need to know who knows I'm alive. I've spent too much time and effort covering up my tracks to have some dead lover turn up and ruin things for me."

"What do you mean?" Malcolm said and shook his head, still trying to piece together the memory with what Mukai was saying.

Just then a klaxon sounded and Mukai ran to the console and checked on it. Shutting off the alarm, she spun around with a look of murder in her eyes. "I don�t have time for your lies."

This time, Malcolm saw the butt of the phase rifle coming at him, knocking him into unconsciousness.

�How could he have been so stupid? All that time, he had suspected Captain Zamora, but now he realized it had all been a set up. Malcolm glared at the woman hovering over him as she desperately tried to sway him to betray everything he believed in.

She sat in the shade of the Nausican transport ship, while he sat in the desert sun, tied and bound, and stripped of clothing to his waist.

Persuasive drugs had been wasted on him, part of his operative training. He licked his cracked lips and squinted up at the sun.

"I offer you a second chance, Malcolm. We could disappear together and live out a life unimaginable. The Nausicans have been very generous." Mukai held the desperation out of her voice. He was an exciting lover and she shuddered as she thought of her exile on Nausica without companionship.�

His ire stirred, Malcolm grinned, trying not to wince as his lip cracked further. "You make it sound like retirement, Lita. I'm not ready to retire."

Furious, Mukai jumped up and ran at him, his mocking tone irritating her. She backhanded him, her anger growing as he kept refusing her. Her knuckles were swollen so she picked up her rifle and bashed Malcolm repeatedly in the head.

The nightmare turned to darkness as he succumbed to unconsciousness.

"Sir, we're in range," Travis announced.

"Bring the grapplers online," Jon instructed and hit the com panel on his chair. "T'Pol �"

The Vulcan looked up from her station. "I'm detecting minimal shielding�two life signs�weapons signatures that match the Nausican designs."

Hoshi sat by listening to commands being issued, waiting pensively.

"I believe we can disable the shielding with a modulated phase cannon burst and �"

"Do it," Archer interrupted his overly cautious officer.

T'Pol sighed heavily, "It could result in a hull breach, sir. Judging on the size of the Kami, death would be immediate."

Hoshi cursed under her breath, somehow remaining calm. Never had she felt as useless as she had at that point. She was poised to monitor communications between the two ships, but she knew she would not be called upon to do so.

Archer cursed. The transporters wouldn't work with the Kami's shields up. The grapplers would just bounce right off, as well. There was no other choice.

"Prepare the modulation, T'Pol. Stand by."

Archer called down to engineering. "Trip, are the transporters up and running?"

"That's about one of the only systems the attack didn't knock out," Trip stated.

"Head to the transporter alcove and lock on to the life signs onboard the Kami. Be prepared to transport both on my mark."

A slight pause met with the command.

"Uh, sir, I'm only going to be able to transport one of them at a time."

"One at a time then, Commander," Jon stated and cut the com, hoping he wouldn't need to utilize the transporter at all. He nodded to T'Pol to proceed.

Holding her breath as she watched a modulated phase cannon blast hit the Kami, Hoshi clutched her console.

His former lover had left him for dead back then, unaware of the life that inhabited the seemingly barren planet.

They were sentient -- the microorganisms on planet. He could feel them moving through him now, spurring his memories and helping him to forge through the remembered pain Mukai had inflicted upon him once again. They spoke no words, yet offered comfort to him.

Another memory surfaced and he grimaced in his sleep.

This time, Mukai held him in a passionate embrace. "Do you really think the corruption goes that high?" she whispered in the darkness.

"I have my suspicions," Malcolm murmured. He still wasn't sure about the Nausican connection and the seemingly thin connection to a Starfleet Admiral.

The thought vanished in a smoke of haze as another remembrance emerged. This thought was pleasant, surrounded with love and didn't hold the underlying tension of his life as an operative.

Hoshi!

Her tenderness surrounded him and her passion took his breath away �

She couldn't tear her eyes off the screen as the Kami's hull buckled and gave way.

"Trip, lock on and transport!" Archer shouted into the com panel.

The entire bridge crew bore witness as a human figure flew out among the debris.

"I've got him, sir." Trip's voice rang out. "It'll take about sixty seconds for the pattern buffers to purge before I can transport the next person."

Jon turned to look at Hoshi, whose pallor had faded to a color of white he had never seen before.

"Him," Hoshi thought as she held onto her console to keep from falling over. Malcolm!

"He's bleedin' pretty bad," Trip's voice called out to somebody else near the transporter alcove. "Tucker to Sickbay!"

The com link left open, Hoshi could monitor Malcolm's condition.

"Phlox here."

"We need ya at the transporter pad, Doc."

"I'm on my way," replied Phlox's disembodied voice.

He observed how worn she looked, guilt seeping into his consciousness as she hovered over Malcolm Reed. Archer turned away and walked behind the current.

Phlox adjusted a scanner and pulled a sheet over Lita Mukai's body.

"What about her?" Jon questioned, already knowing the morbid answer.

"There was nothing I could do for her, Captain," Phlox replied. "The effects of the explosive decompression were too severe. She didn't stand a chance."

Nodding his understanding, Jon walked out of the curtained area, dreading what he needed to do next. Unfortunately, he had his orders.

Phlox followed him from behind the curtain and happily reported, "Mr. Reed should make a full recovery.

"You really should get some rest, Hoshi," Phlox addressed Hoshi who merely sat by, holding Malcolm's hand.

"I'm fine." Hoshi waved him off, her eyes never leaving Malcolm's face.

"Phlox is right, Hoshi," Jon murmured sympathetically, unsure how she would take the news when she found out.

Looking up at the concern on her captain's face, Hoshi was relieved to see that his comment was a request and not an order. "With all due respect, sir, I �"

"Need to get some rest, Lieutenant," Malcolm muttered groggily, his eyes still slammed shut in pain. He touched his head, making sure it was still there.

"Welcome back, Mr. Reed," Phlox greeted, readying a hypospray for the pain.

"Keep it. I don't need it," Malcolm groaned, sitting up.

Hoshi tried to pull her hand out of his, but he pulled her closer.

Looking around, Malcolm stared at the curtain. "Mukai?"

"Yes," Hoshi answered.

"Damn," he whispered. Now that made his job that much harder because he needed her alive for information. Now he was back to square one and more exposed than ever. Chances are whomever Mukai was working for had connections in Starfleet, but he was never able to narrow it down. Those same chances made him a convenient target.

"I see no reason for keeping you in sickbay any longer, Mr. Reed," Phlox said calmly. "As long as you mind the medical protocol for concussions, you should be fine. I want to see you first thing in the morning."

Smiling, Malcolm eased off the biobed and leaned on Hoshi.

Jon stepped forward, dread settling in the pit of his stomach. "Hoshi, I need to speak with Lieutenant Commander Reed alone, please."

It was like watching a light diminishing as her smile faded. Nodding, Hoshi helped Malcolm sit back down on the bed. "I'll see you later, okay?" she mumbled, suddenly aware of her surroundings. If it weren't for the presence of her captain and Phlox, she would be all over him � concussion be damned.

Both watched her leave, and only when she was out of sight did Jon finally address Malcolm. "I know she'll find out eventually, but I didn't want her to hear it like this."

Malcolm nodded for the older man to continue.

"I understand you have no memories of�well�your career, but Starfleet insists you stand trial."

"What charge, sir?" asked Malcolm calmly.

"Treason," replied Jon, not really understanding Forrest's insistence on the expeditiousness of the request. "The T'Vala will be here within the hour to transport you to Earth for your court martial."

"How is she?" Archer asked as he hovered next to the dermal regenerator.

"She's unconscious and suffered third degree burns along her legs and feet. A few more hours in the regenerator, and the scars will be minimal. I sedated her just in case she was to wake up, as I understand the lieutenant is claustrophobic." Phlox assessed Hoshi's condition as though it were routine.

Looking at the tubular machine, Jon felt the culpability for his actions. He should have known she wasn't up to the away mission, but he needed her ability down on the planet with him. The risk was supposed to have been minimal.

Enterprise had come across a planet, which was undergoing rapid tectonic disturbances on the surface. They would have watched from a safe distance, but there was a signal coming from the planet � a signal that alluded to intelligent life.

Harmonic crystals � that's what they found. The geologic disturbances were amplifying the crystals' natural waves in repetitive patterns. Hoshi didn�t see or feel the fragile shelf she stood on as she studied the crystals. Luckily, her EV suit had protected her from the lava, but she had still suffered the environmental failure of the suit.

"We should have been more careful," Jon stated. "She could have stayed in the shuttlepod and observed the readings from there. There was no need �"

"Second guessing yourself isn't going to help the lieutenant, Captain," Phlox stated gently.

He knew what the doctor stated was true. "Let me know when she wakes up."

"I'll probably keep her sedated regardless. She needs to catch up on her sleep." Phlox adjusted the readings on the regenerator.

"Catch up?" Jon quizzed, pondering the doctor's statement.

"Hoshi suffers from frequent insomnia. My bat and her pup get their best quality time when the lieutenant's insomnia is at its height."

"How long has this been going on?"

Phlox shrugged his shoulders. "Ever since she came on board. Although, she did seem to sleep better when Mr. Reed was on board and�"

Jon nodded as though he were listening to the doctor's words.

He would never forgot six months ago when he told Hoshi about Malcolm. Seeing the devastation in her eyes, Jon wanted to comfort her, but he wanted to maintain some semblance of professionalism. He had let her get away with too much as it is. She had calmly asked to be dismissed and left the ready room for her lunch break.

Now that he thought more about her, Jon realized the extent of her insomnia. As captain, he suffered from bouts of it himself. Three nights ago, he wound up in the deserted mess hall, and she was there. She was tapping softly on a PADD the other night, oblivious to his presence. She looked tired and frustrated.

"Do whatever you have to for her, Doc."

Two days later �

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Hoshi stuck out her tongue. She looked like death warmed over and the lighting in sickbay didn't help much. Other than the headache, she was fine, not to mention well rested.

She set the mirror down and picked up the PADD, gleaning through the various news organizations and headlines. It was frustrating as hell. There was nothing about Malcolm in the news, and she wasn't able to access the Starfleet database for she still didn't have full access to it.

The Captain had called her into his ready room and she braced herself in anticipation of the fraternization speech, but it never came. She knew she had showed her hand in sickbay with Malcolm.�

"There's no easy way to say this, Hoshi, but I wanted to let you know before it became general knowledge."

She remembered feeling the vibration of the T'Vala disengaging from Enterprise, never questioning why the Vulcans had followed them, just assuming they were there rendering further assistance. She had never guessed Malcolm was on board until Jonathan Archer broke the news to her.

Jon cleared his throat, stood and stared out at the stars. "Malcolm Reed is on his way to Earth. He's being charged with treason and will stand trial."

It took a few second before his words registered and Hoshi waited � for what she didn't know.

"Malcolm's not coming back." Jon turned and looked at her.

Hoshi set the PADD down and yawned. Only once in the past six months had she asked him about Malcolm.

He had replied with a quick and cold, "I don't know."

She nodded, wanting to smack the shit out of him for being such an ass. Had he even considered that he had delivered Malcolm into further danger? The captain had assured her he hadn't, telling her the order came directly from Admiral Forrest.

Her lids grew heavy on the troubling thought and she slept, letting the sounds of Nala and her pup lull her to sleep.

Archer stared at the screen in disbelief, shaking the sleep from his head.

"I'm asking this as a favor, Jon. Besides, you're short an armory officer and you would be hard pressed to find somebody with his qualifications that � " Forrest pleaded his case.

"What happened to the charges?" Jon asked suspiciously.

"I can't go into detail, but Admiral Bryant has resigned pending investigation," the admiral stated sullenly. "Malcolm�well�I made up the charges. I needed to get him back here in one piece. I couldn't risk him being intercepted before he reached me. It turns out his brush with Lita Mukai triggered some old memories and he's made a complete recovery. He was able to complete the investigation regarding the phase cannon design theft." He paused. "Well, the findings of the investigation caused some bad blood and it really would be better if the lieutenant commander disappeared for a little while."

Jon waited for the admiral to finish.

"Well, I won't force the issue, but he specifically asked for assignment on Enterprise." Forrest leaned forward onto his desk. "Just let me know what you decide. It's ultimately your decision. Forrest out."

The screen went blank and Jon blinked. There was no way he was getting back to sleep tonight.

A few nights later �

Hoshi stared at the darkened ceiling, struggling to sleep. He would be here soon, tilting her world upside down again. Sure, she had told the Captain serving with the new armory officer wouldn't be a problem. Who she was trying to kid? Not only was she lying to Captain Archer, she was lying to herself.

The captain's eyes had become wider as he read off Malcolm's qualifications, as though he were a child expecting a special toy. He had made it perfectly clear that he was considering her wishes. What should she have done -- feign giddy schoolgirl thoughts and fan herself with excitement? Yes, she was excited that Malcolm was okay and coming back to her, but at the same time, she was pissed as hell that he hadn't even bothered to contact her.

Walking through the corridors of Enterprise, Malcolm couldn't help but dwell on Hoshi. Maybe he had made a mistake by coming back. Circumstances were different now. If his past had taught him one thing, it was that he had a lousy track record where women were concerned.

Hell! Lita had tried to kill him � twice!

Hoshi was the exact opposite from that witch, her kindness and gentleness drew him instinctively to her. He still loved Hoshi. Would she wind up hating him like all the other women in his life? Doubts about his place in her life lingered, especially after the meeting he had just had with Captain Archer.

"Sir, I think you'll find everything is in order," Malcolm stated dryly, at attention and looking straight ahead. He handed his superior officer a PADD and continued. "I've been working on increasing phase cannon efficiency yield by twenty percent. These are the simulations I've been working on and � "

"I appreciate your enthusiasm, Lieutenant Commander, but it's late and this can wait until tomorrow morning," Jon replied, finally looking up from the terminal on his desk. "I just want to know one thing."

"Sir." Malcolm nodded in acknowledgement.

"Is serving with Lieutenant Sato going to be a problem?"

The question was unexpected, and Malcolm looked down. His only thoughts over the past two months centered on Hoshi and how to get back to her. He hadn't considered their relationship inside the confines of Starfleet regulations. He was her superior officer now, yet not within her chain of command. The sinking feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. "No, sir," he lied.

His hesitation spoke volumes and Jon knew the younger man had every intention of picking up where he had left off with his com officer. "Good."

An awkward pause stretched between them as Malcolm held his breath.

"If any problems do arise between you and Lieutenant Sato, I don't want to know about them. Is that understood?" Jon picked a PADD up and feigned interest in it; otherwise he was going to burst out laughing. It was going to be fun breaking in his new armory officer. "Dismissed."

Malcolm was too wired to do the sensible thing and go to bed. Instead, he decided to get a head start on his day � a very large head start. Dropping his bags in his assigned quarters, he walked down the hall and made his way to sickbay.

He wanted to go to her, but there was too much to contend with. A relationship with her just didn't seem feasible after everything that had transpired in his life. Malcolm hadn't even considered fraternization regulations and it felt as though Hoshi was slipping out of his grasp.

What the hell had he been thinking? Enterprise was a small ship. Not only would an affair with him jeopardize her career, it could possibly jeopardize her life. Admiral Forrest had made it perfectly clear to him. He needed go far away and maintain a low profile until the smoke from the investigation cleared.

He had a sister � Madeline. She had died shortly after he had disappeared. She had been the only normalcy he had ever had in his life, and she was dead. The memory of her life had surfaced along with all the others of his former life and he had naturally inquired after her.

She had died in an accident, or so it would seem. It wasn't until he had full access to his logs that he started to suspect her death wasn't as accidental as it was reported.

Guilt gnawed at him, and he would never know for sure, but he suspected she had been killed. Killed to silence what she knew about him and his activities. He wouldn't put it past Lita.

Cursing himself for his openness around Lita, Malcolm knew he would always wonder and never forgive himself.��

Shaking the unsettling thoughts from his head, he headed to sickbay for the routine "welcome aboard physical."

Walking into sickbay, Malcolm heard the familiar sounds of the doctor's creatures, but one sound stood out � the calming clicks Hoshi always used on the bats.

"See. Here's daddy now," she purred to the creature. "Dr. Phlox?"

Malcolm stood there, unable to move. She was behind the partition and hadn't seen him yet. His feelings ran rampant � fear, hope, dread.

Hoshi stood when she got no response and made her way to the main examining area.

Clutching the pup to her chest, Hoshi saw Malcolm.

He could see the natural warmth in her eyes extinguish � a look of surprise quickly taking its place, then suddenly turning cold.

"Can't sleep?" He heard himself ask as though no time had passed between them.

The pup protested the tight hold Hoshi had on him with a flap of his wings. Turning toward the creature's cage, she released him and watched him fly to the top of it. Seeing Malcolm again had an almost dreamlike quality to it. Staring at the pips on his uniform, she raised her head defiantly, remembering how mad she was at him, and damning her own weakness around him. "What's your excuse � sir?"

He could hear the angry inflection in her question and could feel her eyes on his rank insignia. "I wanted to get a head start to my day."

"It's two o'clock in the morning. That's some start," she retorted sharply and walked out of sickbay.

Watching her leave, Malcolm grimaced. She was angry with him. It was better off if she stayed that way.

Hoshi glanced from the empty tactical station toward the closed door of the captain's ready room. She had gotten no sleep last night and she felt the tiredness seep deeper into her. Seeing him last night had been difficult.

When he spoke, it had rattled her. Too many nights had passed where she had dreamt of him, only to wake up without him. He had spoken to her as though no time had passed � as though nothing had ever transpired between them.

She understood he no longer had amnesia and shuddered as she remembered how cold and unapproachable he appeared now.

She had wanted to smack and shake him as she felt her attraction for him stir back to life. He had stood there calmly and she had run away.�

Self-preservation. That would be the name of her existence now. His touch and words meant nothing to her. Circumstances were different. He was different. Even with amnesia, he had given hints of his true self � someone who was aloof and detached. He reminded her of her father.

Hoshi scoffed at the thought. Great! Now she had a daddy complex!

The door to the ready room opened and she studied her console like it was the most interesting thing she had ever seen. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Malcolm take his place at the tactical station.

The door to the lift opened and Commander Tucker strode onto the bridge with a PADD in his hand.

The Captain saw the engineer and grinned. "Oh good," he stated as he took the PADD from Trip. Standing, he set the PADD on his chair and looked around the bridge.

"I believe no introductions are necessary," he addressed the senior staff on the bridge. "Lt. Cmdr. Reed was transferred as our new tactical officer, effective last night. He's suggested a few ideas for some improvements. Trip, you and he need to coordinate your teams to upgrade the phase cannons."

"All right," Trip stated, nodding in acknowledgment to Malcolm.

"In addition, all crew will take the two self-defense courses Mr. Reed has recommended. The armory staff will be assessed and trained and available for individual sessions." Jon could see Hoshi shifting uneasily in her seat. She still had yet to look up from her console. Apparently the lovers had yet to reconcile.

Malcolm stared straight ahead, nodding slightly to Commander Tucker. He had spent the entire night reviewing Starfleet records, and was already familiar with Hoshi's. Her record was impressive, but it had one fundamental flaw � only the standard Starfleet defense training. She needed more. She needed to pass the Defensive Combatant level of training in order to advance further in rank.

Hoshi heard the Captain's words and clutched the console tighter. It wasn't so bad. Any one of the armory staff could train her. It didn't necessarily mean she would have to train with him. Either way, she was just going to have to suck it up and get used to being around him. They were living on a small ship and they were bound to run into one another sooner or later.

Looking up, she acknowledged the captain with a nod and looked past him and across the bridge. Somehow she resisted the urge to look away as she met Malcolm's gaze. His professional demeanor was remote as he acknowledged everybody on the bridge with a curt nod. His eyes lingered on her and, with the barest tilt to her head, she responded.

If he could be cold, she could be colder.

Malcolm looked down and started working, his thoughts anywhere but on his duties. Hating him would be good for her, but would it be good for him? Either way, it was how he intended them to remain � lost to one another as though they were cordial strangers.

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