An Unexpected Attraction - Part 6
See Part 1 for heading/disclaimer information.
*Trip*
The Captain
had Travis fly us down to the surface. I'd arranged for Pod One to undergo
it's monthly safety check today, so we were in Shuttlepod Two. Not that I'm
superstitious or anything, but I decided it's better to be safe than sorry.
Judging by the big grin on Travis' face, he'd figured it out. Malcolm was his
usual inscrutable self, but I don't think T'Pol or the Captain gave it a second
thought. Hoshi was busy going over the linguistics data she'd downloaded and
occasionally futzing around with her Universal Translator.
The Lev, as
they called themselves, towered over us all, even the Captain. They looked for
all the world like large, tail-less, bipedal lions, with a much reduced muzzle,
totally covered in short, silky-looking fur. I found myself picturing them in
the Wizard of Oz. They all sported impressive manes of differing lengths and
colors of fluffier fur, which Hoshi explained to me had some relationship to
their social standing. They apparently didn't see the need to wear clothes,
although just about everyone had a leather shoulder pouch slung across their
chests. I supposed if you didn't have pockets, you needed a purse.
Each of us
was assigned our own personal guide, and from the look on Malcolm's face I
could tell he was thinking guard, not guide. Our entourage proceeded on what I
guessed was the endless VIP tour of their main city-complex. I'd been fighting
boredom all morning by watching Malcolm unsuccessfully try to ditch his
'guide', until we reached a large glassed-in building that housed what looked
like a power-station. My own guide, a huge blonde-maned monolith named Mozhno,
saw my interest and smiled, which was actually a rather frightening sight as it
revealed his large canine teeth in a somewhat ferocious manner.
"Tucker
see, yes?"
"What?
Oh, yes, I would like to see. Especially, *that*." I pointed toward an
intriguing structure attached to what looked to be the power output conduit.
"Ah,
yes, the pomekha. You have keen eyes." Mozhno gestured to the others and
the group walked closer to the building.
"Tucker
khoochet hear speak o pomekhu," Mozhno announced to the others, almost
proudly, I thought. I saw Hoshi poking at a PADD and fiddling with the UT.
"Would
you say that again, please?" Hoshi asked my guide. He smiled his fearsome
smile and obliged. This time, the translation we heard was "Tucker would
like to learn more about the shield." Hoshi smiled in triumph and stepped
back into the group while her guide, Nuzhno, patted her shoulder approvingly.
I found
Malcolm by my side as we moved closer to the machine. I glanced at him
briefly, genuinely interested in investigating this bizarre-looking device, but
something made me look at him again, more closely. Malcolm was miserable. His
eyes were very red and moist, tearing up continuously. His breathing was a
raspy shallow wheeze, he was gasping a little as if he couldn't quite catch his
breath, and his skin was starting to turn red and bumpy. Hives? I excused
myself and steered Malcolm off to the edge of the group.
"Malcolm?"
I knew how he felt about health questions, but he looked terrible! "Are
you feelin' okay? You don't look so good." I caught the Captain's eye
and jerked my head toward Malcolm, figuring my feisty lover would deny feeling
anything but fine. He surprised me.
"Actually,
I *do* feel a bit odd," he wheezed, "I'm afraid it's my allergies,
sir. Cats, specifically, sir." He addressed this to the Captain, who'd
shoved his way over to us. "I'm afraid I'll have to return to
Enterprise. I'm terribly sorry, sir, I didn't think." Malcolm kept his
embarrassed apology to a minimum as he was clearly having difficulty speaking
as well as breathing.
"Don't
apologize, Lieutenant. If anyone's at fault, it's Phlox." Archer winked
at Malcolm, to let him know he wasn't totally serious. "Let Travis take
you back up in the shuttle, get Phlox to set you to rights." Malcolm had
started shaking his head before Archer was even done speaking.
"No
sir, please. I'll just transport up, I can't leave you down here without
transportation. It'll be fine, sir." Archer had recoiled a bit when
Malcolm mentioned the transporter. His offer was surprising in itself, as
Malcolm had no particular love for the procedure himself. Archer waffled
momentarily, his concern for Malcolm warring with protocol.
"If
you're sure, Malcolm." Okay, protocol won.
"Quite so, sir." Our entourage had moved off a
bit, and we'd had a bit of privacy for our conversation. So none of the Lev
were immediately aware of it when Malcolm pulled out his communicator and
requested transport back up to the ship. It wasn't until after he started
dematerializing, when he realized something was going seriously awry and began
shouting, that we got their attention. By then it was too late.
We all
watched in fascinated horror as Malcolm's body began to disappear, but his uniform
remained with us, standing up as if an invisible Malcolm were still inside it,
until Malcolm's body was gone and the uniform slumped to the ground,
accompanied by a multitude of muted thumps and a shower of metallic
clattering. We all stared dumbly at the pile of clothes, weapons and other
devices for a second, then Archer whipped out his own communicator.
We were all
treated to a litany of vile British cursing against the backdrop of hysterical
laughter. It took another few seconds for our dazed minds to comprehend what
had happened and construct the appropriate mental picture of a totally naked
Malcolm Reed materializing before an astonished transporter operator. Rostov,
I thought, judging by the sound of the voice. Priceless.
Archer
reassured Malcolm that we'd return his belongings to him and find out what had
happened. Travis and I started gathering up Malcolm's clothes and we were
amazed by the sheer quantity of lethal and dangerous-looking devices we
recovered from the pile. Travis looked at me, shaking his head in wonder.
"Where
do you suppose he *puts* it all, sir?"
I had some
ideas, but none that I was going to discuss with Travis.
"I
think there are some things, Travis, that we mere mortals aren't meant to
know."
I tried not
to laugh, but damned if an image of a nearly naked Malcolm scurrying to sickbay
wrapped in a towel or something sprang up in my mind, and I lost it.
The Lev
were falling all over themselves apologizing and trying to explain. It turned
out that this "shield" device itself was the culprit. The shield was
actually some kind of targeted force field that prevented non-living material
from being introduced into the habitat complex. I was fascinated and wanted to
know more. I knew Malcolm would have been all over it.
"The
shield was developed many years ago when our people almost annihilated each
other in an ugly civil war. It enabled us to ensure no one could enter the
habitats with the means to cause massive destruction. Peace was achieved long
ago, but we keep the shield functioning. It serves its purpose. Not all
off-worlders are as peaceable as you."
"But
if it's still functioning, why weren't we all...disarmed when we arrived
earlier?" Archer's lips twitched; once we'd determined this incident was
an accident and not an attack, we were all having trouble keeping straight
faces. Well, except for T'Pol. Although, even her face looked a little more
pinched than usual.
"We
disable it temporarily for visitors such as yourselves. It reactivates
automatically. If we had known Reed was departing, naturally we would have
deactivated it immediately. We are doubly sorrowed that we were the cause of
both his physical discomfort and his subsequent embarrassment. We wish to
atone for this scandalous offense." That was Malcolm's former
"guide/guard", Nelzhya.
"Well,
now, I'm guessing Reed would dearly love to have the specs on your little
shield device here that caused all this fuss," I told her, after sharing a
quick look with the Captain. "I'm sure that would go a long way toward
making the lieutenant feel less offended." Nelzhya exchanged her own
looks with the other Lev and eventually they all nodded agreement. I smiled
happily. I was sooo going to be the bearer of good news when I saw Malcolm
again. And I could already think of a couple of practical applications for
this shield.
***
*Malcolm*
I'm still
berating myself for not immediately realizing that a gigantic alien feline
might aggravate my allergy to the regular earth-type variety. And in a
particularly nasty fashion too. I've never had such a severe reaction to
anything before. It became so difficult to breath that I was more than willing
to use the blasted transporter to get out of there and have Phlox inject me
with one of his potions before I passed out from lack of oxygen.
Having my
uniform unceremoniously stripped from my body in the process was merely adding
insult to injury. Not to mention the wide variety of defensive items I
generally carry with me on away missions. I had the macabre thought that it
was a good thing I didn't have fillings or artificial joints.
Once I
re-materialized onboard Enterprise, Crewman Rostov was able to stop laughing
long enough to find me a thermal blanket to cover up with so I could get to
sickbay. A couple of injections, a lecture and a sickbay robe later, I was on
my way back to my quarters.
The away
team stayed planet-side for the rest of the day. Trip called to check up on me
and to reassure me that he and Travis had packed up everything I'd left
behind. He was apparently quite amused by it all. He alluded to having a
surprise for me when he got back, but wouldn't elaborate. When I refused to
rise to the bait and pester him for details, he seemed so disappointed that I
felt a little guilty after we cut the channel.
Phlox's
magical potions affect me in unusual ways sometimes, but this time the effect
was familiar. I was sound asleep shortly after my conversation with Trip. I
didn't wake up until much later, and then only because someone was tickling my
feet.
"Malcolm?
You alive?" I pried open one still-reddened eye and identified my
attacker.
"Trip?
What time is it?" I started to sit up, but thought better of it when the
room swirled around me.
"Ah,
it's about 1900. How you feeling? You hungry or anything?" Trip knelt
down beside my bed, putting our heads at the same level.
"Thirsty.
Could you...?" Trip was up and moving toward the bathroom sink almost
before the words were out of my mouth. When he returned with a glass of water,
I noticed his casual clothing. He propped me up and I nearly drained the
glass, sighing with relief as my scratchy throat was soothed.
"Nice
shirt," I told him, as he helped me lie back down.
"Yeah,
well, Phlox said we all had to change our uniforms as soon as we got back. So
we wouldn't contaminate the ship with cat hair." Trip grinned his crooked
grin at me, and I felt oddly pampered.
"That
was considerate. I'll have to remember to thank him. Again." Trip was
back kneeling beside the bed and he had automatically grabbed my hand as he did
so. I'm not certain he realized what he'd done, even when he began stroking my
palm with his thumb. It felt very soothing and I closed my eyes again.
"Malcolm?"
Trip prompted gently, and I grunted questioningly, eyes still closed.
"You hungry? I was gonna hit the mess hall and get something, come back
and sit with you for awhile. That okay?"
"Lovely,"
I mumbled, squeezing his hand briefly before he moved away.
"Okay,
I'll be back in a few. Go ahead and take a little catnap," Trip teased,
before he rose and departed. I'd snorted scornfully at his suggestion of a
nap, but that's exactly what I did. The next thing I was aware of was Trip,
back from the mess hall, bearing a tray that smelled wonderful. My stomach
loudly reminded me that I hadn't eaten since breakfast. And I needed to use
the bathroom, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to get there by myself.
Fortunately, Trip seemed to have developed mind-reading skills.
"Let
me help you over to the bathroom, Malcolm. Phlox said that stuff he gave you
was pretty potent." Trip helped me up and we staggered to the bathroom.
He made sure I was able to balance myself before leaving me some privacy.
"Holler
when you're done."
I used the
facilities and splashed some cold water on my face. The Malcolm in the mirror
looked pretty ragged, so I ran a comb through my hair before deciding it was a
hopeless cause. When I opened the door, Trip was waiting and we walked a bit
steadier back to the bed. He got me settled on a couple of pillows against the
bulkhead, then startled me by whipping out a scanner and waving it over me. He
smiled when I pulled a face at him.
"Doctor's
orders," he said, gesturing with the scanner. "It was either me or
Phlox. I figgered you'd rather it was me," he winked.
"Thanks."
My stomach rumbled loudly again, and we both laughed. He brought the tray
over, put it on the night stand and handed me a plate.
"Think
you can handle that?" he asked, watching as my hand shook trying to
support the weight of the plate. He answered his own question when he grabbed
it out of my hand as I nearly dropped it.
"Okay,
change of plan." He picked up the fork, speared a piece of meat and held
it up before my mouth. "Open."
I opened
all right, to tell him not to be a bloody idiot, I wasn't some invalid needing
to be hand-fed. But before I could get any words out, Trip stuffed the food
into my mouth, leaving me with a choice: spit or chew. I looked into his warm
blue eyes and chewed. Swallowed. Opened for another mouthful. I, Lieutenant
Malcolm Reed, the so-called most dangerous man in Starfleet (if the rumors I'd
heard were true), sat back and allowed myself to be spoon-fed my dinner by the
most wonderful, thoughtful man in the universe.
After we
ate, Trip pulled out a PADD and handed it to me with the flair of a magician
pulling a rabbit out of his hat.
"What's
this?"
"A
little present. The Lev were so upset about everything, I got them to give me
all the specs on that nifty shield device of theirs." Intrigued, I
scanned quickly through the data on the PADD.
"Their
power source isn't exactly compatible with ours, so we can't just use this to
build one, but we should be able to tinker around and maybe adapt something
that *will* work. If you're not completely put off the idea after your little
test drive," Trip continued, chuckling at the dark glare I sent his way.
"Oh,
by the way, I brought your stuff back." He gestured to a box on the floor
by my desk. "Phlox had me send the uniform to the laundry, but everything
else is in here." Trip hefted it and shook it gently, making the contents
rattle a bit. "Me and Travis were kinda curious, though," he shot me
a mischievous look, "about exactly where you hide all this stuff?"
"Trade
secret," I teased, "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill
you." Trip rolled his eyes at the ancient joke. "Thank you for
this, though, " I gestured with the PADD. "It looks promising, I
think we may well be able to adapt some of this to our existing force
field."
"Least
I could do. So, you're feeling better now?"
"Yes,
much. Thank you for all this as well." I gestured to the tray now piled
with empty dishes. "I'm not used to being coddled. I don't give up
control easily." I spoke softly, watching Trip's reaction carefully.
"I
know." His voice was soft too. "I should go, you need to
rest," he said, as he stood up and started to pick up the tray.
"I've
just slept all bloody day," I protested mildly. "You don't have to
rush off." A pause. "I'd like it if you stayed." Trip stalled
his movements and gave me a considering look. I rushed on. "I didn't
mean...that is, we don't...I'm not angling for sex, Trip." I was
stuttering like an idiot, so I just stopped talking.
Trip set
the tray down on my desk, turned the lights down to minimum and walked over to
the bed. He smiled gently at me as he toed off his shoes, pulled off his
shirt, and stepped out of his pants, folding everything into a neat pile on the
chair. Clad in just his briefs, he helped me rearrange the pillows and got in
beside me. Still silent, he pulled me back to rest against his chest and
draped an arm across me, resting his hand on my stomach.
"This
okay?" he asked. I smiled into the darkness.
"Fine."
I felt his brief snort of amusement.
"Goodnight,
Malcolm." Trip settled his chin above my head while his hand absently
stroked my belly. Despite my protests, my eyelids drooped shut and I felt
myself drifting off.
"Goodnight,
love." I mumbled. I dreamt of sunshine, warmth and sparkling pools of
deep blue water.