Later that day, back in the armoury, Malcolm was frustrated, and he swore. Loudly. “Oh fucking, shit, bollocks.”
“Well, excuse me, lieutenant,” Captain Archer exclaimed, looking a little astounded at the outburst.
Dodging his head out from under the console, Malcolm grimaced when he spotted the Captain. He pulled himself out, and stood upright. “I apologise, Captain, for my little tirade. I was just losing a battle against my damn console. It went ‘boom’ on me. Sorry.”
Archer grinned. “It’s okay, Malcolm, but don’t you think you should be heading home now? Time to get ready for tonight’s festivities?”
“What time is it?”
“1830 hours.”
“Oh damn. That time already? Just a few more minutes…” catching site of his Captain’s face, he changed his next words “okay, sir, I will just hand over and then go. Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it, lieutenant. Just enjoy yourself tonight, that’s all I ask.” Then the captain leaned over him and winked.
Winked?
The Captain winked?
Ooooh boy! The captain must know more than he’s letting on, Malcolm thought.
Handing over to his Ensign, Malcolm wondered about what he was letting himself in for. A Valentines Dance did not sound promising, although he did have the card. Sighing, he wandered back to his quarters.
He input his code, the doors opened, and he entered his room. He quickly divested himself of clothes. Turning on the shower, he ensured the water was hot before he stepped in, and efficiently cleaned himself, making sure his cock had had a thorough cleansing. After all, he thought, I might get lucky. Ha. And I DON’T think!
Moving out, he shaved himself, and, losing any thoughts of vanity, slapped aftershave on. He wandered into his room, and found himself facing his wardrobe.
“Okay, Mal, find something that someone MAY just find attractive, or else just stay in your room,” he groaned. Looking, he happened upon a dark purple shirt, and dark blue trousers. The purple shirt always brought the blue of his eyes out, so he was told, so he donned that. The trousers always made his legs look longer, so he was told, so he donned those too. Looking in the mirror, he found that the image looking back didn’t look bad. Then he remembered. It was a SCHOOL disco. Shoulders drooping, he removed the clothes, and neatly hung them back up. Delving into the very depths of his wardrobe, he found some grey shorts and a white short-sleeved shirt. Grabbing them, he hauled them out, and quickly dressed. A stripy blue and red tie was soon loosely fastened around his neck, and finally, an old baseball cap was plonked on his head. Hmm, his vision told him he very definitely looked like a schoolboy.
Malcolm glanced towards the clock. It now read 1925hours. Ooookayy, he thought. Time to depart. He grabbed his card as he left the room.
The mess hall doors appeared before him, as if by magic. How did I get up here? He thought. Oh well. Lets go in…
The doors swished open, and all he could see were people. It seemed very crowded to him, and he was very tempted to back out, go back to his quarters, had it not been for Hoshi.
“Wow, Malcolm, you look great, like a very cheeky schoolboy. And what’s that aftershave you are wearing? You smell fantastic. So, you are going all out to win whoever tonight then?” Hoshi barely took a breath between her sentences.
Malcolm glanced at his friend. She was wearing a white shirt, very short pleated skirt and knee length socks, and looked disheveled. Two pigtails completed the look.
“Thanks Hoshi, but you know…” he shrugged.
“Oooh no,” she grabbed hold of his upper arm. “No way are you going back to your room, no way at all.”
Sighing deeply, he allowed himself to be pulled into the room. He licked his lips nervously, while scanning the room. No one was taking notice.
He suddenly noticed Travis standing at Hoshi’s side. He also noticed the little touches, the little glances they were giving each other. He immediately felt like a gooseberry,
“Er, I’m going for a drink. Do you two want anything?” Malcolm asked.
“No thanks Malcolm, we are quite alright,” Travis replied, without ever looking at his friend.
Giving them an incredulous look, Malcolm wandered over to where the ‘bar’ was, just in front of the disco, and ordered a beer. He was still standing there, brooding, when he felt a nudge at the side of him. Looking round, he found Trip, standing there, looking extremely sexy in an almost identical outfit to his. Apart from the ultra tight shorts. Realizing he was staring at him, Malcolm flushed slightly, and looked up at Trip.
“Hi Malcolm,” Trip said, anxiously.
“Trip! Wow, you look, um, wow,” Malcolm finished, weakly. “All the females will be going mad tonight, seeing you in those shorts. Just don’t bend down, will you?” He finished, although he rather hoped that Trip would bend down. He had a sudden vision flash into his thoughts of Trip’s curvaceous arse. Smiling inanely, he suddenly realized that Trip had spoken to him. “Pardon? Sorry, I um completely missed what you said,” Malcolm babbled.
Rolling his eyes, Trip repeated his sentence. “I said, could I see your card, Malcolm?” A smile crept onto his lips.
“Oh, er, its, its rather, um, private,” blushed Malcolm. But another glance at Trip forced him to give up his card, reluctantly.
Trip read the card. “Do you know we have the self same poem on the card? The only thing that’s changed is the name?”
“We do? Gosh, I knew nothing about that!” Malcolm protested. “What do you suppose that means?”
What Trip was going to reply was never known as Captain Archer strolled up, looked very uncomfortable, in his shorts. “Well, looks like all the males on the ship only ever had one uniform in school. I’m certain we wore trousers as well.”
“We did, but seeing as we wear trousers for 99% of the time on board, then I guess this was the only way to dress up as schoolboys!” Trip explained.
“Very true,” came the reply. “By the way, did you find out yet who your cards came from? Almost identical, aren’t they?” Archer innocently asked his officers.
Trip was about to answer, when Malcolm, who narrowed his eyes, and gave Archer a searching look, stopped him. He was gratified when a small blush crept up Archer’s cheeks. “Urm, forgive me for asking Captain-”
“We are supposed to be at a school disco, so call me Jon, please.” Archer interrupted, smiling sheepishly, hoping to distract Malcolm.
“Fine. Forgive me for asking Jon…but how did you know about our cards and the fact they are almost identical?”
Looking from one man to the other, the penny finally dropped for Trip, and he glared at Archer. “Yeah, Jon. Tell us. I certainly never told…oh, wait a minute, have yer been talking to Hoshi an’ Travis?”
Archer had the grace to look shamefaced. “No, I haven’t, I have been extremely busy today, and have hardly spoken to anyone…”he bit his lip and inwardly cursed himself for letting out that bit of information.
“Busy doing what, may we ask?” Trip and Malcolm both stood, looking expectantly at the man.
“Ah, um, er,” Jon pulled at the neck of his shirt, and felt very uncomfortable. Grasping at a straw he confidently said, “I was doing Captainly things!” As their jaws dropped, Jon decided this was a good time to leave. “Enjoy the disco, see you later, guys,” and he raced across to the far side of the room, attempting to put as much space as possible between them.
Trip was the first to recover. “Well, of all the…do you think he is behind the cards, Mal?”
“Oh definitely. I wonder what the easiest way would be to kill him?” Malcolm wondered aloud.
“Why’d ya wanna kill our cap’n?” Moving closer to Malcolm, Trip put his arm tentatively around his waist. “Personally, I think he did me a favour.”
Jumping at the contact, Malcolm blushed furiously, and averted his gaze from the impossibly blue eyes that were fixed on him now. Certain that Trip would be able to hear his pounding heartbeat, he tried to breath normally.
“Mal? Do you want to be my Valentine?” Hopeful blue eyes sent a puppy dog look towards Malcolm.
Looking up, Malcolm let out a ragged breath and was undone by the look. He steadied himself by putting his arms around the waist of his partner. “Valentine? Oh, yes, please. If you are sure?”
“I’ve never been more certain, Mal,” and Trip lowered his face down, and tenderly kissed Malcolm’s lips. Eyes closed, they both leant closer, enjoying the taste of each other. Gently, Trip prised Malcolm’s lips apart and slowly inserted his tongue into the warm cavity.
They forgot about the disco, forgot about the cards, forgot everything else about them. They were lost in the passionate kiss, their arms around one another. Coming up only for air, they saw the desire reflected in each other’s eyes.
“Oh Mal, you are so gorgeous, you have no idea,” Trip whispered against the soft cheek of the smaller man “but if you don’t take me out of here now, I think everyone will know how gorgeous I think you are, and what religion I am,” he imperceptibly gestured towards the growing bulge in his tight shorts.
Glancing downwards, Malcolm’s mouth suddenly went completely dry. Swallowing hard, he could only nod at the other man’s suggestion. Loosening his grip from around Trip’s waist, he heard a small moan. Moving quickly to assure his partner of his love, he grasped hold of his hand, and squeezed. Reassured, Trip squeezed back, and, smiling broadly, the two would-be lovers walked across the crowded room, holding hands, lost in their romantic thoughts.
Across the room, Jon Archer watched in delighted triumph. At last, he thought, if anyone on this ship deserves a bit of happiness, it’s those two. And I bet they wouldn’t have made any moves towards each other if I hadn’t given them a bit of a push.
| Back to Chapter 1 | The Card chapter listing | On to Chapter 3 |
| To Zoë's page | To Main MEG Archive page |