An Unexpected Attraction - Part 8 See Part 1 for heading/disclaimer information.



*Travis*

I can't put my finger on it, but there's been something odd about Lieutenant Reed lately.  At first I'd thought he was just really embarrassed about his naked transporter ride and all the subsequent comments and jokes about his uniform flying off, but I don't think that's it. 

It started before that, after that night when he and the Commander and I got piss drunk and jerked off together.  He was so tense and distracted for a while after that, and people started to notice.  I was just getting ready to try and talk to him, when he showed up on the bridge one morning wearing his familiar semi-cheerful smirk, cracking jokes with Hoshi and me and generally acting like his usual self again. 

But ever since we met the Lev a few weeks ago, he's been acting distracted again.  Even the Captain's wondered if the lieutenant was still affected by his allergic encounter with them, but Phlox says physically he's fine now.  He isolated himself in the armory for awhile, telling anyone who asked that he was investigating adapting the Lev shield technology for our use.  He's stopped the hermit routine now, but there's something different about him, he seems softer, not as stand-offish as he used to.  Not that I'm about to walk over and ask him why he's being so nice lately, I like my face right where it is.  Maybe I should ask Hoshi if she's heard anything.

***

*Trip*

I'd been sitting alone in the captain's quarters for a few minutes, waiting for him to join me.  Finally the door slid open and he stalked in.  He looked a little stressed. 

"Sorry I'm late, Trip."

"That's okay, Cap'n."  I paused, then looked down.  "I was just getting lucky."

Jon stared at me, bug-eyed, for a moment, then noticed what I was gesturing at.  Porthos is an affectionate little pup, I'll give him that.  But the romantic attraction my leg seems to hold for him is beyond me.  I'd pushed him off several times already, but he was back for more, humping my knee with all his beagle might.

"Oh Christ, I'm sorry."  He swatted at the dog's rump, then shoved him off to the side. 

"Bad dog, bad Porthos."  He looked at me sheepishly.

"Sorry about that, Trip.  I don't know what's gotten into him lately."  Jon gave the little dog one more dose of evil-eye, then sat down and gave his attention to me.   "What's up?" 

I'd asked to see him.  Once it became clear to me that Malcolm and I weren't going to be just a one-time thing, I'd decided that, for good or bad, the captain of the ship probably needed to know that we were keeping company.  And my friend, Jon, well I guess I kinda wanted him to tell me I wasn't insane to be doing this.  Problem was, I didn't know how to start, and once it was out, I didn't know what I'd do if either one of them thought it was a really bad idea. 

"I'm not really sure how to say this, Jon."  I'd decided to start with my friend, and let the captain get the drift on his own. 

"Well, that's a first," Jon said with a grin.  "Let me write this down on my calendar."

"Very funny.  What I'm trying, badly, to say here is...is that I'm seeing someone.  Sort of."  I stuttered it out, finally. 

"Oh?"  A bigger grin.  "On the ship, you mean?"  I nodded.  "Well?"  He lifted his brows at me.  "Who's the lucky lady?" 

I licked my suddenly dry lips.  "Well, to tell you the truth, Jon...itsnotawoman."  It takes Jon a minute to decipher what I said, then his brows *really* went up. 

"Oooooh."  He looked at me speculatively for a long moment.  "I see."  Another pause.  "How many guesses do I get?" 

"Huh?"  I was still spiking over actually getting the words out and I wasn't focusing on his response yet. 

"Your new...friend.  You planning to tell me who or do I have to guess?" 

"Oh.  Uh...it's Malcolm." 

There's that bug-eyed look again.  I had the image of Malcolm humping my leg as Porthos had been doing flash through my mind and I started to laugh.  Jon looked hurt. 

"Don't tease me like that, Trip.  Seriously, who is it?"  Oh God, he thought I was laughing at him. 

"No joke, Jon.   Malcolm and me are..."  Yeah, Trip, what *are* you?  Fuck buddies?  Good friends who *really* like each other? Lovers?  What?  I snapped back to attention, Jon was still waiting. 

"We're sorta seeing each other.  Off duty,"  I specified. 

Jon was silent.  He considered this.  He looked up at me and smiled. 

"Right, I can see that."  He paused, then gave me an evil grin.  "I guess you *are* getting lucky, at that." 

Okay, he just waggled his eyebrows at me.  He was good with this.  I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding and relaxed. 

"Oh yeah, you could say that."   

"This story I have *got* to hear."  Jon grabbed a couple of beers from his mini-fridge and handed me one.  "Start talking."

***

*Jon*

I'll admit I was pretty shocked when Trip first told me that he and Malcolm were seeing each other.  I could tell he was worried about how I'd react, both as his captain and his friend.  Frankly, his friend was delighted that he'd finally found someone, I know how lonely it can get on this ship.  And his captain, well, I'm not the captain for nothing. 

This is my ship and I'm damned if I'll let some small-minded Starfleet desk-jockeys micro-manage my crew.  The regulations on interpersonal relations are deliberately vague for precisely this reason.  If I thought for an instant that either of them was using their personal relationship for manipulation, I'd squash it immediately.  I think Trip knew that, and I'm proud that he still came to me, instead of keeping to his usual 'ask forgiveness, not permission' routine. 

And now, watching them together, I'm ashamed I didn't see it for myself.  They're good together.  I don't even know if they realize it themselves, how perfectly they complement each other.  Trip has taken on some of Malcolm's discipline and responsibility, while Malcolm has relaxed his spit & polish persona enough that I don't feel like I'll cut myself if I touch him anymore.  They practically glow when they're together.  I'm almost jealous.         

***

*Trip*

I'm screwed.  And I don't just mean literally, either.  The more time I spend with Malcolm, the more time I want to spend with him.  And not just in bed.  He fascinates me.  Now that I've gotten him to start opening up, I'm constantly amazed by him. 

I know it's a cliché, but in Malcolm's case, still waters really do run deep.  For all his tough, blow-it-up-first, ask-questions-later face he wears in public, the man is a complete softy inside.  Maybe that's why he developed that impervious outer shell in the first place, to protect the beautiful soul hiding inside. 

He writes poetry.  I would never have guessed it, but it's amazing stuff.  He's one of the most intelligent people I've ever had the privilege to know, probably all the reading he does.  We've actually spent entire evenings discussing certain books or authors, and I've enjoyed it so much I told him he should start a book group on Enterprise, said he could call it Malcolm's Reeding Circle.  Well, *I* thought it was funny.   

But even with all the talking and sharing we've been doing, neither of us has brought up the subject of the actual nature of our relationship.  I know that Malcolm initiated it as pretty much a sexual experiment, but it's grown so much beyond that.  I can't believe he doesn't feel the same way, but every time I get my courage up to tell him I want more, to ask him if he wants the same thing, it's like he takes this emotional step backwards, away from me, and I end up just keeping quiet. 

It's frustrating.  I know he's worried about the crew finding out, we're still real careful about being seen going into each other's quarters or being affectionate in public.  And he doesn't know I spoke to Jon, it's sort of my guilty little secret because I didn't ask him about it first.  Being with Malcolm is just so amazing, I'm scared to death of losing what I have by asking for more than he's willing to offer.       

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