Rating: NC17
Category: Het Feedback: Yes Pretty Please! ([email protected]) Archive: EntSTCommunity, Reed's Armoury, BLT, MEGA, any others, please ask first SPOILERS: Maybe a tiny nod to "The Expanse", but nothing too obvious. WARNINGS: NON-CONSENSUAL SEX, VIOLENCE, CHARACTER DEATH AND SAP Summary: Ex-lovers Malcolm and Rose are re-united. But is the magic still there? Disclaimer: I don't own or have any rights to the Star Trek universe, "Enterprise", or any of its characters they belong to UPN/Paramount. I am making no money from this story."Oh my God. Get away, Monty. Let me see!"
Reluctantly obeying, the dog let her pull him back and sat down as she pushed through the last restraining twigs. Before her, huddling sideways against a tree, was a man - naked, bloodied and bedraggled. Pale and shivering, he was awkwardly twisted and, quite clearly, his consciousness was fading fast.Blocking his view of her impetuous pet, she knelt and wrapped him in her jacket, trying to speak to him reassuringly but knowing that shock was making her babble. His remaining strength deserted him then, however, and he slumped into unconsciousness.
Rose fished in her pants pocket for the communication device she always carried. "O'Leary to base camp. O'Leary to base." Initial static gave way to a boyish voice with a Scottish burr: "Hi Rose, its JJ here. What's the problem?" Sighing with relief, she launched into her story "JJ, get the Doc and come out to the river, about 50 meters upstream of the stepping stones. I've found a man here, injured. He's just passed out and he looks bad, so hurry. And bring something to carry him on." JJ acknowledged her request then quickly cut the channel.The storm was moving on and the light level began to lift so, while she waited, Rose turned back to the casualty and inspected him a little more closely. Much of his face was disfigured by swelling and bruises but she guessed he was around her own age, dark haired and slightly built, his fingers long and slender but with ragged, bitten nails. Her gaze wandered across his torso then halted abruptly as it came to something very familiar: peeking out below her loaned jacket was a tattoo.
Despite the years that had come between them, it was still vivid in her memory, as was its owner. As compact and shy as he was, it perched on his right hipbone, partly obscured by bruising a perfectly rendered rose. One of Rose's close friends, and a colleague on the excavation, was Vince Petrie, a retired doctor from Australia who took care of the health of the project team in their, rather utilitarian, clinic. He and JJ came crashing through the forest, panting a little, and descended on her with faces lined with concern. Still stunned at her discovery, Rose edged backwards and let the older man work, watching as he scanned and gently examined the still form among the trees. "Will will he live?" The doctor frowned. "Somebody didn't care much if he didn't let's get him back to base and see what can be done." She shuddered as they carefully straightened the tangled limbs and lifted their patient onto the stretcher. At the movement, he stirred, giving a brief cry of pain, and she involuntarily stepped forward: "Malcolm! Malcolm, its alright. You're safe now. Don't be afraid." Vince's head whipped round "You KNOW him?" She nodded shakily "Yes. We were friends a long time ago but lost touch. His name's Malcolm Reed and he was with Starfleet in those days." He grunted; "You'd best check if they're missing him then, as soon as off-world communications clear up. An ion storm came in this afternoon and its been screwing up off-world comms and travel something awful. Picks the time too; I couldn't even get the damned cricket scores from Melbourne - and they say it could last for over a week. Just my bloody luck if I miss every match." He gave her a sideways glance as she stared at the figure on the stretcher; "You don't think he'd be here looking for you then?" Rose shook her head "No. I'd just arrived in Mexico when we last saw each other - and I doubt if he followed my career any more than I kept up with his." Vince sighed "Well, Rosie my girl, no matter how or why he got here, the poor sod will need all the help we can give him." Base Camp comprised several prefabricated buildings on the edge of the excavation site. Rose's own little cabin stood at the fringe of the clearing, where it had been sited when she'd arrived, alone, as the founder of the project. It comprised a living area, which doubled as a bedroom and office, supplemented by a toilet-cum-shower room and a tiny kitchen.Each other member of her team had their own bedroom in an accommodation block, but cooking, eating, showering and laundry facilities were communal - housed close to the laboratories and stores needed by the archaeologists as their work progressed. The Petries were the exception. The clinic, with their living quarters above, stood in the middle of the tiny settlement and was well enough equipped to deal with most emergencies, although staffed only by Vince and his wife Tessa, a retired nurse.
Tessa was waiting for them and, at a word from her husband, rushed ahead to prepare the facility's tiny operating room. After helping to deliver the patient there, JJ, a bright young student of 21, with a wispy ginger goatee and unfortunately large feet, was warned to discuss Malcolm's condition with no-one, then despatched to keep Monty company while Rose hovered anxiously by the door. Scrubbing his hands while Tessa readied a sterile gown for him, Vince spoke to Rose over his shoulder: "I won't jerk you around, Rosie. He's been subjected to the most horrific multiple rape I've ever seen and he certainly wasn't meant to survive. My scans show significant internal damage and evidence of a paralytic drug in his bloodstream, which has obviously been used to subdue him."He let Tessa help him don the gown then continued: "I'm going to carry out fairly extensive surgery now, then he'll need a lot of support and understanding which is where you come in. I want you to go and clear your diary for a week maybe longer, if this ion storm drags on and keeps us all from flying or travelling off-world. When he wakes up, you'll be the only familiar face in a strange, largely male, community and I want you with him and trying to find out what happened. The criminals who hurt him are still out there and only he can tell us who they are."
Stunned by his words, and the sudden turn of events, Rose silently left the doctor to his work and drifted over to her own quarters. She caught sight of herself in the polished aluminium door of her cabin and, with a start, realised that, as always, she was wearing the matching set of Aztec-design jewellery Malcolm had bought for her on their last night together in Mexico. It was her only adornment and she automatically reached for it every morning. Even now, fingering the delicate pendant and finely wrought earrings, she could still replay in her mind the moment he'd presented them to her. Stepping inside, she peeled off her sodden clothing and towelled her hair, brushing it through in front of the mirror. Her eyes were drawn again to the jewellery and she carefully took it off, placing it on what served as her dressing table. The colours and patterns in the pendant were vibrant and alive and the earrings echoed them on a smaller scale. She had loved them the moment she'd seen them but, with calm deliberation, she covered them with her hand and scooped them into her waste bin. After more than two hours, Vince arrived at her door. He was a tall, burly man, fond of safari suits (because of their multiple pockets) and medical gadgetry (though he rarely got his hands on any). Still handsome, with wavy silver hair and a deep, copper-brown tan, he had a paternal charm and screwball sense of humour that kept the archaeologists from taking themselves and their work too seriously. Rose liked him, and his snowy-haired, down-to-earth, wife, immensely - but felt uneasy, knowing his expectations of her.He wiped his feet as he stepped inside: "Hi Rosie, girl. The rain's gone off, and I needed a bit of fresh air after surgery like that, so I thought I'd make a house call. Mr Reed's sleeping peacefully and doing quite well, considering all he's been through. Tessa's keeping an eye on him until we get back but you've got time to make me a nice cuppa and give Uncle Vince all your worries. Something tells me that you and my patient have more of a history than you're letting on."
Putting the kettle on to boil, Rose laughed lightly: "Sorry Vince, but you're reading a lot more into this than is necessary. We had a holiday romance, enjoyed it at the time, then went back to live in the real world and got on with our real lives end of story. I I know what you said about Malcolm needing support and suchlike, but I really can't give up the time. There's a lot in my diary right now and I'm sure he'll do fine anyway. He was a security officer, and they're all tough cookies, aren't they?" The disapproving silence behind her made her anxious and she turned to flash the doctor one of her most winning smiles. "You know how it is for me, Vince. Archaeology's my life as well as my career and it has to come first." His face impassive, the doctor nodded: "I know, Rosie, but he almost died. We don't have lots of modern drugs and fancy surgical techniques available out here in the back of beyond. His insides are only held together by my embroidery and a hell of a lot of luck. When he wakes up, he's going to be very sore and very scared and needing someone to talk to: someone he knows he can trust. You could be crucial to his recovery." Handing him his tea, Rose sat opposite him, feigning relaxation: "Flattery will get you nowhere, Vince. I have a busy schedule and a lot of people depending on me. I won't let them down." "But you'll let Malcolm down?" She laughed nervously: "Don't be so melodramatic! Once Starfleet hears about him, he'll have all the best psychologists at his disposal. I'm telling you: he'll be fine!" Vince put down his cup and got to his feet: "Thanks for the tea, Rosie. Now get your arse over to my clinic before I kick it there myself. If you do nothing else for him, you're going to be there when he comes round." Tessa gave her a rather curious smile when she entered the clinic's Recovery Room and she realised that she'd been the main topic of conversation and speculation between the couple while they worked on their patient. The nurse stood up; "Hi there, Rosie love. Park yourself down here by the bed. He's getting a little restless and I think he'll wake up soon. Best if he sees a pretty face instead of my wrinkled old mug." She winked and headed through with Vince to his office, calling back to tell Rose to "just holler" if there were any problems. Rose thanked her and turned to the bed .Surrounded by carefully placed pillows, Malcolm lay propped on his side, linked by tubes and wires to various drains, drips and monitors. Vince had reduced much of the swelling and he was more recognisable now but his face was still ashen: its thick, shapely eyebrows and long lashes starkly black against his pallor. Even his full lips, slightly parted, but by no means in a smile, seemed to have lost most of their colour and Rose was not surprised to note that one of the IV drip bottles contained blood.
Her eyes followed the line of his body under the lightweight covers: he was as slender as ever, except for around the lower abdomen where heavy bandaging added bulk. Bruises and abrasions marred his finely haired torso and disfigured the delicately boned cheeks, sprinkled now with stubble. It was sickeningly obvious that he hadn't been treated gently. Cautiously, she touched his hair, finding it hard in places with dried blood whereas, in her memory, it was soft and silky against her face, her breasts, her thighs She wrenched herself back to the present and concentrated on the slow rhythm of his breathing. Suddenly, an alarm went off and Tessa hurried through to check on him: "Its OK Rosie, he's just starting to come to. He'll be awake soon." Rose watched her head back to Vince's office. Soon. Soon he'd be awake. Soon, she could leave. Malcolm swam slowly upwards through the murky depths of anaesthesia. He'd been hearing humming and beeping sounds for a while now, but couldn't quite place what was making them, and they faded in and out of his awareness as he wakened. There was someone nearby, he thought, but they moved so quietly that he wasn't sure if he was imagining things and, for some reason, he was having trouble getting his eyes open in order to check. At first, he wondered why he was so exhausted but now obscure memories were gradually trickling back, and he felt his heart rate increase as a vague but menacing dread settled in the pit of his stomach.He'd been in a forest - he didn't know why - and there had been an animal of some sort he just couldn't quite recall
Behind him, an alarm went off and chimed loudly and insistently. There were swift, approaching footsteps, then he felt a cool hand on his forehead, stroking back his hair; "Its alright, lovey. You're safe now. You can wake up if you want."
The voice was warm and female, with a not-quite-British accent, but if there was one thing he knew, it was that he didn't want to wake up for it would mean facing whatever was scaring him so badly.
The hand left his forehead, the footsteps retreated, and he tried, unsuccessfully, to wish himself back to sleep. Finally, he forced his eyes open to find a different woman sitting, rigidly, beside his bed. She was uneasily looking back over her shoulder, towards an open door beyond which people were moving about and talking. When she turned to face him, a startled exclamation was forced through his dry lips.
"Rose?"
For a long moment, she stared at him then he heard the soft, Irish brogue he thought he'd never hear again. "Hello, Malcolm. Its alright don't be afraid. You're in the clinic of Base Camp at my excavation on Valdor V. I found you, injured, in the forest." Vision still hazy, he blinked rapidly, struggling to focus on her, and she leapt at the chance to escape. "You're tired I should let your rest. Don't worry, Malcolm, you're safe now. Vince is an excellent doctor and will take good care of you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do. Feel better soon." With that, she fled and Malcolm stared after her retreating form, not even sure if she was real. As the door closed, a fatherly looking, silver-haired man frowned after her then ambled over to the bed, carrying a rather antiquated scanner. "Hello son. I'm Vince Petrie, the excavation doctor. How're you doing?" A veritable tidal wave of fear crashed over Malcolm and he struggled to order his frenzied thoughts and say something sensible: "Feel sick." Vince nodded sympathetically "I'll bet after all, you've just had major surgery. Let's see what we can do to make you more comfortable, then you can get back to sleep." He produced a hypospray - and Malcolm tried to jerk away, terror-stricken. The doctor frowned at the readouts on the display screen: "Easy, son. Its just an anti- emetic to stop the queasiness." Frantically searching for some inner reservoir of calm, Malcolm watched him anxiously, partial memories leaking out again even as he tried to contain them.Someone had injected him with something
Pressing the instrument to his patient's neck the doctor patted his hand reassuringly, but he froze at the touch: "I know, son. But its alright now. You're safe here with us." Malcolm felt his eyes mist and his throat constrict. A sob fought its way out then all his control was gone and he retched violently. Fortunately, the doctor was faster and had a disposable bowl under his chin before he vomited, moaning at the pain caused by his spasming abdominal muscles. "Its OK, Malcolm. You're just reacting to the anaesthetic. The medicine will start working soon." After helping him to rinse his mouth out, Vince gently eased his patient back onto his pillows "Try to relax, son. I'll adjust the IV to give you more pain relief then you should try to have another nap. You're doing fine, but you'll feel better if you sleep for another few hours." Malcolm watched warily as the doctor fiddled with the pump mechanism on the IV stand then came back to sit beside him. "There we are. Now, close your eyes and don't worry. Nobody here's going to harm you and we'll do everything we can to help you get well again." The man reached out and began gently and repeatedly smoothing Malcolm's hair back from his face. At first, he stiffened at the contact - but the motion was soothing, the doctor'ss demeanour relaxed and, gradually, exhaustion took over. At the end of his physical and emotional resources, Malcolm felt himself spiralling back down into a deep and dreamless slumber. Back in her quarters, Rose was struggling to relax. On their way to the clinic, Vince had told her - in no uncertain terms -what he thought of her decision to abandon Malcolm, and his words still echoed in her mind. They were, however, determinedly ignored. Stabbing angrily at her computer's power button, she started working on her lectures for the tour she'd undertake the moment off-world travel was again possible. It was a long-anticipated venture and an opportunity to raise awareness of her work here - perhaps winning some influential sponsors. She didn't intend to pass it up for anything. Or anyone. Moments later, the screen in front of her remaining infuriatingly blank and her pride still smarting from Vince's telling-off, she rose from her desk and began to pace. Her window looked out towards the clinic and she could see the glow of the lights still burning in the Recovery Room. Irritably, she closed her blinds.It really wasn't her problem.
Flouncing back to the computer, she switched over to her communications screen and was greeted by the crackle of static. Cursing, she prepared a text-only message and sent it to Starfleet: there was no telling when it would get through the storm's interference, but it stood a much better chance than an audio visual communication - and that would have to suffice. When it came to getting Malcolm Reed back to the bosom of his shipmates, Rose O'Leary was in one hell of a hurry. Around 10 o'clock the following morning, his mouth dry and every part of his body aching, Malcolm wakened to the sound of a woman's, rather off-key, singing and the smell of antiseptic. Involuntarily, he groaned and the singing abruptly stopped. Finally persuading his eyes to open, he started as he found himself almost face-to-face with the woman in question. In her sensible, comfortable, nurses' shoes, she had moved so quietly that he hadn't heard her approach, and her proximity immediately made him uncomfortable. Seeming to read his thoughts, she smiled and straightened up: "I'm sorry Malcolm. I didn't mean to startle you. I'm Vince's wife, Tessa. He's having a lie-in today and asked me to keep an eye on you." Malcolm winced, fairly sure that the man had been up all night caring for him.The nurse's gaze took in his rather glassy stare, then the readings on the monitors behind the bed, before returning to her patient. "How are you feeling today?"
There was real compassion in her voice and Malcolm was suddenly disposed to confide in her: "Hurts." Tessa nodded: "The anaesthetic's effect from last night's almost gone now, so we'll have to compensate with a little more analgesic." She briskly adjusted the IV pump then favoured him with a warm smile. "There. That should do it. Now, I was just about to tidy you up a little. Are you OK with that? " Malcolm really didn't know if it was OK or not - his thoughts and feelings were still scrambled and dulled by the drugs flowing into his veins but he nodded, albeit a little doubtfully, and hoped it was the correct response. Tessa smiled sympathetically: "Poor lamb. I'll be gentle and quick, I promise." She was as good as her word and soon Malcolm was clean and dressed in a fresh medical gown, newly-plumped pillows propping him up a little and letting him see what was going on. She'd shaved him, washed and combed his hair, then inspected his wounds and changed his dressings, re-adjusting the drains and drips as necessary. He felt a little more awake now, and the increased analgesic had all but eradicated the pain.If only he could stop feeling so frightened.
Tessa came back again and brushed his teeth, making sure he didn't swallow any water, before pulling over a chair and sitting beside his bed. "So, Malcolm, how do you feel about telling me what a nice guy like you's doing in a place like this? We know where we found you, and in what condition, but how did you get there?" The panic, when it came, made Malcolm blink in surprise. Suddenly, his heart was thundering and he was beginning to shake and sweat, a jumble of half-memories flooding his brain. As he fought to suppress them, he began to struggle for breath and the terror became all- consuming. He was aware of Tessa's worried frown, heard shouting in the background, then everything went dark.Early morning was normally Rose's favourite part of the day. Her work motivated her like nothing else could and she'd hurry from her cabin to the ruins, ready for more discoveries, more knowledge and more excitement. Today, however, was different. She took a less direct route, to avoid passing the clinic, and, instead of her usual cheerful, teasing greetings to her team, already hard at work digging, studying and cataloguing, she heard herself give a sullen and distracted "Morning".
JJ was at her side within seconds, bouncing on the balls of his feet like an over-excitable child and wanting to know what had become of the bedraggled creature they'd carried back from the forest the previous night. Rose sighed: "Vince has him on the mend. He'll be fine." The young man frowned, dissatisfied: "Sure but what about the rest? How'd you get to know him. Why is he here?" He leered at her and waggled his eyebrows "Are you uh long-lost lovers?" It took all her self-control not to slap him! "I appreciated your help last night, JJ, but that doesn't buy you a ticket to my private life. We were friends; we lost touch; I don't know how or why he got here. That's it. Like we agreed last night, respect his privacy and everything will turn out OK." Throughout the rest of the day, she was aware of curious stares from her co-workers knowing full well her uncharacteristic ill humour was making them uneasy. JJ was sulking too and the rumour mill was working overtime but, try as she might, she couldn't find her usual, easy manner. After dinner, she took Monty out for his walk and ran straight into Vince, making his way to the clinic. He tossed her a casual greeting "Hey Rosie, how's it going?" She tried to hurry on by with a throwaway "Fine thanks" but he sidestepped to block her path."Aren't you even going to ask how he's doing?"
Monty had turned traitor and engaged the doctor in a ball-throwing game, so she found herself trapped and forced to answer. "Umm, so Vince, How's he doing?" Vince bowled the ball over-arm and the dog bounded after it "Not so good. Poor guy's scared to death if a bloke comes near him but can't seem to remember why. He can just about tolerate me being around - but he's been taking panic-attacks. Tessa's had to sit with him most of the day, helping him to learn to control them. Why don't you come and see for yourself?" A soggy, misshapen tennis ball was dropped at the doctor's feet but Rose moved like lightening to pick it up before he could get to it: "Sorry Vince, got a heavy workload tonight. Maybe another time." Turning on her heel, she strode away briskly, calling Monty after her, while Vince, shaking his head, continued to the clinic. It was, she told herself, all for the best. "Okay, lovey, that's it. Hold onto my arm. Good boy. Now let's try a few steps. Well done!" Hanging on tightly to Tessa, his teeth clenched against the pain of moving, Malcolm valiantly shuffled across the room to the open door and the armchair, placed specially for him, in the shade of the clinic. It was only three days since he'd been brought to Base Camp, but Tessa was adamant that he was ready to be out of bed and wouldn't take "no" for an answer.Finally arriving at the chair, he eased himself down on the soft cushions and sighed with relief. His nurse grinned "Told you you'd make it. You don't have to stay up long just a little while every day will help you get back to normal. Now, you sit quietly and watch the world go by while I change your sheets. Vince'll be here shortly and he'll help you to have a bath then you can get back to bed. I know you don't like it, but I have to be cruel to be kind. It'll help your wound to heal and you'll feel better in the long run."
When he was alone again, Malcolm put his head back and closed his eyes. Tessa had certainly been very kind as had Vince. They'd taken turns to be with him 24 hours a day and had helped him through numerous crises: if only they would stop asking him questions. He really didn't know what had happened to him and the partial memories, which bobbed, unbidden, to the surface of his mind, were disjointed and confusing. All he knew for sure was that they made him helpless with a terror that he could barely control. Some time later, he was disturbed by the sound of a dog barking excitedly and he looked up to see a familiar form in the distance, accompanied by what looked like a cross between a German Shepherd and a Shetland pony. He felt his mouth go dry: Rose!Only a couple of inches shorter than Malcolm, she was slim and long- legged, with auburn hair that usually tumbled onto her shoulders in a profusion of curls and ringlets. Today, though, that hair was imprisoned in a secure braid that ran from the crown of her head, taking in tresses from the sides as it went. Fair skinned and freckled, with eyes which seemed to alternate between being hazel and green, she was throwing a stick for the excited dog, laughing as it came skidding back, time and again, to present her with the mangled piece of wood.
Although Malcolm sat in the shade, she was in full sun and he squinted as she approached, longing to see her more clearly. Tessa had told him Rose was in charge of the excavation, but that work took up most of her time. He'd accepted the explanation, but still harboured a hope that she'd find a moment to visit him, and now, it seemed she was heading his way. Trembling with weakness, he pushed himself painfully to his feet, carefully watching where the various tubes to which he was still attached were located - lest he should inadvertently yank one free. At last, he was relatively stable and with a supreme effort, straightened up in time to see her look straight at him, dismay on her lovely face, then turn and head towards another building entirely. Disbelief warred with disappointment as he awkwardly eased himself back onto the cushions and stared after her. He felt betrayed, and was surprised to note that the sensation was oddly familiar. A strong hand on his shoulder startled him and he looked up to see the doctor frowning at him. "I saw her too son. Try not to fret yourself. Tess and I may not be as pretty, but we're still your friends and you can count on us to look after you." Embarrassed, he managed a tremulous smile "Thank you. I I just thought " Vince grinned: "Thinking's a failing we men have, when it comes to women. And they always do the exact opposite of whatever we think!" Soft footsteps could be heard coming from the clinic and the doctor winked and raised his voice slightly: "Personally, I put my brain into cold storage when I got married. I've found its easier that way." Tessa arrived to stand beside them and cuffed her husband playfully. "What are you saying about me Dr Petrie? I hope you aren't leading Malcolm astray." The doctor smiled and gave her a squeeze "Would I do such a thing, my darling? Now, lets get this young `un back to bed. His bath can wait - he's looking a bit peaky right now."; Together, they hoisted Malcolm between them and helped him make the journey back inside. Exhaustion was catching up with him already and, even before Tessa was finished tucking the covers around him, he was drifting off to sleep. Just over a week later, Malcolm was well enough to be up and walking, unaided, around the clinic. Leaning on Vince or Tessa, he could even manage the short stroll, undertaken at a snail's pace, to the edge of the excavation site, peering over at the concentrated activity of the archaeologists. He'd declined to be introduced to them, finding himself embarrassingly frightened of strangers, particularly men, and tried to engineer his walks to always fall when they were too busy working to come near him. Of necessity, a lot of his time was spent resting. He knew the doctor well enough now to feel fairly comfortable with him and, to stave off boredom, Vince stayed and chatted and brought him padds full of information about Novos' history and the progress of the excavation. It was interesting to see the foundations of the temple being uncovered and to marvel at computer projections of the size and scope of the edifice, and the simulations of how it must have looked when in daily use.Vast larders had been discovered, deep under the ground and reached by mind-boggling numbers of steps. It was believed that meat and dairy produce had remained fresh down there for years, so cold were the cellars. Malcolm's mind, however, could not remain on such marvels for long and kept springing back to worrying about the, still illusive, more recent past.
And, despite his best efforts to forget her, his heart still ached for Rose.
Monty was whining at her front door when Rose returned from the dig that evening. The weather was fine, the sun still high, and the overgrown pup was in the mood to play. Sighing, she smiled fondly at the comical animal with his enormous, lopsided, ears, huge floppy paws and laughing, slightly stupid, expression. "Monty, you are such a sweetheart but I can't take you out for long. I have to get packed for tomorrow." She poured some dogfood into his bowl "Here, have a bite to eat and let me do the same then we'll talk." Just as she finished washing her dishes, a sharp rap at the door made her jump. She opened it to find Vince standing there, and she was almost bowled over as Monty charged out to greet him. He fussed over the dog then smiled wryly at her: "I hear the ion storm's cleared up and you're off on your lecture tour tomorrow. You must be excited." Irked by his timing, and suspecting his motives, she invited him in rather coolly: "Yes, it's a superb opportunity: but, since you clearly don't approve, I'm sure you're not here to discuss it with me." Flopping down on her couch, he stretched and put his feet up on the battered coffee table in front of it. "Rosie girl, you're so sharp you're gonna cut yourself some day. Okay, let's get to the point. I want you to show Mr Reed round the excavation site this evening - chances are he'll be gone when you get back. You'll never need to set eyes on him again, so where's the harm in giving him a little of your time this evening and making him happy? He's been hoping to see you since he discovered you were here - and I know damn well you've been avoiding him at every turn. How about it? Maybe it'll provide a little closure for both of you." Rose bristled: "I don't need closure, Vince, and neither does he. We closed everything that needed closing when we said goodbye in Mexico." The doctor shrugged: "If you say so. Still, you know him better than anyone else here and he knows you. All I can discover is that his ship's the Enterprise, that he's Chief Armoury Officer there and that he doesn't have any next of kin or - what's the term?- ah, "significant other" who should be notified of his whereabouts. When I told him you'd sent a message to Starfleet and they'd probably respond once the ion storm passed, he went awfully quiet. I'd kinda like to know what that's all about."Anyway, I'm hoping that, if you spend a little time together, he'll open up a bit and tell you how he got hurt. With Tess and me, he either doesn't, or won't, remember and can't answer any of our questions, but you might be able to winkle it out of him. Whoever's responsible for his injuries deserves to be punished and I mean to see it happen."
Rose nodded reluctantly: "Okay, I'll talk to him and if it'll stop you bugging me, I'll give him the grand tour - but that's it, Vince. No more." Grinning widely, the doctor stood "That's all I'm asking, Rosie. Anything else is up to you and Malcolm. By the way, he HAS been telling me about YOU, you know - even the story about the tattoo and the jewellery. Where is it, by the way? You normally wear it every day." Ignoring his question, Rose opened the door "I'll collect him in half an hour. Might as well kill two birds with one stone and take Monty for his walk at the same time, then maybe I can get some packing done." Vince was already on his way back to the clinic and waved at her over his shoulder "He'll be ready. See you later." Tessa Petrie had spent a large part of her married life arguing with her husband. Their disagreements were never serious, and were usually over quickly, but they nearly always ended with her wondering why he had to be such an impulsive bastard. She was wondering again tonight. He'd arrived back at the clinic about 20 minutes ago to announce that he'd arranged for Rose O'Leary to show his current patient, one Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, around the excavation of which she was Director. Unfortunately, said patient had no clothes whatsoever, except for the hospital slippers, bathrobe and thin, one-size, pyjamas Vince had given him for his short walks from the clinic. The Petrie residence was now in chaos while she ransacked the couple's wardrobe to find something warmer, and more appropriate, to fit him.Malcolm was slightly built and, at present, a little on the scrawny side. Vince, by contrast, was a brawny six-footer, so, at the moment, the beleaguered Starfleet officer was being dressed in Tessa's clothes: jeans and a loose-fitting corduroy blouse in a fetching shade of lilac. Although his patient looked a little doubtful, Vince smiled approvingly "That's great, son. If Tess rolls the sleeves up a bit nobody'll guess they're too short and just leave the collar open, will you, and it won't look so tight. Stuff some paper towel into those new sneakers of mine, Tess, and they'll fit him like a glove."
Glowering, Tessa did as he asked, cursed her husband under her breath, then stood back to appraise her handiwork. "Take a look in the mirror, Malcolm. It isn't as bad as you think. The colour's not too girly and it really shows up your pretty eyes." Nervously, Malcolm glanced at the mirror and shuddered. He'd always been critical of his appearance but, since his assault, he'd felt deeply unattractive and irredeemably soiled. His reflection a waif in women's clothing did nothing to convince him of his desirability and he wondered, miserably, what Rose would see when she looked at him. Over the years of their separation, he'd chastised himself repeatedly for still harbouring feelings for her - but she was the only woman he'd ever felt a connection with and, despite trying to forget her, he'd found himself entering subsequent relationships already knowing they would never fill the aching void she'd left in his life. Her avoidance of him, here at Novos, had shaken him and he'd been dismayed to hear of Vince's arrangement for this evening. Deep down, however, a tiny flame of hope was burning and urging him to take a chance The doorbell to the Petries' flat chimed and he was jolted out of his reverie. It was too late for second thoughts. As Vince showed Rose into the room, Malcolm's heart sank and he wanted to cry. She was every bit as lovely as when he'd first encountered her in the Mexican travel terminal but, when she looked at him, the old warmth and friendliness was gone from her eyes. She put out her hand and shook his as if they'd never been more than casual acquaintances. Her voice was polite but remote: "Hello Malcolm. I'm glad you're recovering so well. If you're ready, we should be going. I have an early start in the morning." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tessa wince - but there was no turning back now. He dredged up a quivering smile and nodded, not trusting himself to speak.Apparently ignorant of the tension in the room, and beaming like a proud father seeing his daughter off to the high school prom, Vince stepped forward and opened the door. "Take Rose's arm, Malcolm. You're walking quite a distance tonight and you're still a little unsteady on your pins."
Blushing, and feeling like an encumbrance, Malcolm reluctantly did as he was told, shooting Rose an apologetic glance, but Vince wasn't finished making mischief yet: "Rosie, we couldn't find any underwear to fit him, so make sure you have him home before it turns chilly."
Tessa's horrified gasp was the last thing Malcolm heard as, his blush deepening, they headed out into the evening sunshine.
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