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Reed's Armory -- A Malcolm Reed Fanfiction Archive .. |
Title: First Meeting
Author: Lucy
Author's e-mail: [email protected]
Fandom: Enterprise
Pairing: Archer/Reed
Rating: PG-13
Category: Slash
Warning: Malcolm angst
Summary: Malcolm and Archer meet for the very first time (I'm not very good at summaries)
Author's Notes: Not strictly a birthday fic as it's got a little bit too much angst and certainly not the most original story ever written but it was all I had. Happy Birthday Malcolm!
Archived to Reed's Armory on 10/04/2004.
First Meeting
"Sir?" I looked up as Admiral Forrest deposited a buff-coloured folder onto my desk.
"I think I've found you an armoury officer Jon. Just take a look at his file."
I smiled my thanks and flipped the folder open, slowly growing more and more impressed. By the time I had finished reading I knew I had to have Malcolm Reed on board Enterprise. A man who practised twenty different forms of martial arts would be a useful man to have around, notwithstanding all his other talents and qualifications. As usual the photograph was the last thing I looked at. Serious grey eyes stared out at me and I knew I had to meet this man. The thought that my interest in him might be something more than professional was a thought that I ruthlessly beat down.
***
I blame Trip for the fact that I prefer to meet potential senior staff members in an informal setting. But my first attempt at meeting Malcolm went seriously awry.
***
Ruby had just delivered my drink when Malcolm walked into the bar. His photograph hadn't done him justice and I felt a stab of desire at the sight of his long, lean form, clad to perfection in his uniform.
"I take it you like what you see?" Trip drawled, noting the direction of my gaze. "He's a fine-looking man."
"Do you know much about him?" I asked, pulling my eyes away.
"They say he's great in bed." Trip teased, laughing at my discomfort and then his eyes softened. "You are allowed to fall in love again Jon."
"Trip!" The warning tone that normally worked to quiet Trip's high spirits brought a smile to his lips.
"He doesn't normally drink in here. There's a bar, five blocks south. I've seen him there sometimes."
"Thanks Trip." I drained my drink in one gulp. Tonight wasn't going to be the night I got to talk to Malcolm after all.
***
The bar that Trip had directed me to was small and sparsely populated. The barman who poured my drinks was quiet and respectful, keeping a close but surreptitious eye on my fellow drinkers although this didn't seem the type of place that attracted a lot of trouble. The first two nights Malcolm didn't show up and on the third the barman looked at me quizzically as I sipped my drink.
"Are you waiting for a particular someone?" I glanced up and I must have frowned because he hastened to explain himself. "Most of the men who come in here aren't but everytime the door opens you look away disappointed."
"There is a man," I'm not sure why I confided in the barman, maybe because he seemed genuinely interested rather then merely being nosy. Briefly I described Malcolm.
"There's a booth. It's a bit more discreet, if he comes in I'll bring him over."
The booth doors contained a small glass panel, enough to let me see the door onto the street and I settled back to wait. I had dressed casually but smartly in light-coloured pants and a navy-blue shirt open at the neck. Clothes in which I felt comfortable, clothes in which I hoped I looked good.
That was until I saw Malcolm. Clad in dark jeans and a black polo-neck sweater which clung to his body he looked the epitome of sexual desire. He seemed at home in this place and even raised a hand to salute some of the other drinkers before making his way over to the bar. He exchanged a few words with the barman and glanced over at the booth.
I drew back from the door and realised I was shaking. Suddenly I felt like a gauche teenager with a schoolboy crush. Was I making a mistake, I asked myself. After all, even for an informal meeting this particular bar would seem to many a strange venue.
A hand pushed the booth door open and Malcolm entered. Standing in close proximity to him I could feel all thought and reason draining away leaving behind only burning desire.
"Well?" Malcolm stood poised, the door still half-open. He had an aura of confidence around him and the look on his face was half-curious, half- challenging.
"I'm Jon," I held out a hand which only shook a little. "Jon Tucker." I knew I would regret using that name later but I wanted to get to know Malcolm and if I'd used my real name all chances of that would be gone.
"Pleased to meet you," he shook my hand and moved forward just enough to allow the door to fall shut. He appraised me with cool grey eyes and nodded and smiled.
The booth was unimaginatively furnished with one table with a bench seat on either side but when I seated myself, instead of taking up a position opposite me, Malcolm squeezed himself in next to me. Acutely aware of his left leg pressed against me I realised that I had no idea what I wanted to say to him. Corny first lines spun around in my head and beyond that I couldn't find any words.
"I haven't seen you here before," Malcolm broke the silence. "Did you come here for a reason?"
"You." I blurt out and Malcolm smiled, he's got the upper hand and those wolfish grey eyes of his are telling me he knows it.
He's rolled up the sleeves of his sweater and I can't stop staring at his pale forearms. How would it feel, I wonder, to be held in those arms?
"You're English?" It's a totally inane question but still I'm pleased at just being able to get some words out of my mouth.
"What gave it away?" The man grinned. "My air of sophistication? The fact that I know how to spell colour correctly?"
"It was a stupid question."
"Not as stupid as some." Malcolm looked straight into my eyes and I could see the interest in them. "You look familiar."
Mentally I kicked myself. Malcolm must have seen me walking around Starfleet headquarters. Possibly even had me pointed out to him and frantically I tried to recall if Trip had ever told me that he and Malcolm were friends.
"I'm just your average American."
Malcolm smiled and squeezed my bicep. "Hardly average."
I looked up and found a pair of serious grey eyes focused on my face. His lips brushed against mine, the kiss was almost accidental but a moment later his lips were back and mine parted, encouraging him to deepen the kiss. Abruptly Malcolm broke away and I could have sworn he was blushing.
"I'm sorry," he pulled back. "I don't want to give you the wrong idea."
"The wrong idea?"
"I'm not normally this forward." The man looked suddenly scared. "I'm a Starfleet officer. This isn't the sort of thing we're supposed to do."
He paused and I opened my mouth to tell him the truth but the words stuck in my throat.
"I do what everyone expects of me." Malcolm looked up, his eyes defiant. "I go drinking with my colleagues, I flirt with women, I.. None of it feels real. My father would say it was because I made the wrong choice. It's not but I can't be myself around these people. That's why I drink here. All the jokes that are made about sailors and yet they're the most homophobic people on this planet." Malcolm's expression was taut with anger, his hands were shaking and I remembered that it said in his file that his father was an admiral in the British Royal Navy. I fought down my own upsurge of anger at the thought of a man whose attitudes had forced his own son to hide who he really was.
Malcolm stood up. "I have to go now." He paused to pull his sweater straight. "I'm sorry Jon. I'm not interested in a one-night stand. Believe me I am flattered."
What makes you think I want a one-night stand? But the question remained unasked as the booth door swung shut and I was left alone.
***
The firm knock on the door caught me by surprise, lost as I was in thoughts of last night. When I looked at the clock I couldn't help but smile, right on time. "Come in."
The door opened and the greeting froze on Malcolm's lips when he saw me.
"Lieutenant Reed. Please sit down." Moving forward Malcolm regained his composure as he seated himself opposite me.
"Captain Archer."
I couldn't quite place the expression in his eyes and I was suddenly afraid that I might have done the wrong thing and consequently Malcolm would refuse my offer.
"I want you to be armoury officer on Enterprise." I forced the words out, expecting a polite refusal.
"Why didn't you tell me who you really were?"
The question, asked in this situation by a man who, so his colleagues joke, observes protocol even when asleep, floored me. There was pain in his eyes and I realised he had misinterpreted my intentions.
"You've heard rumours," he accused, sounding more resigned than angry. "You wanted to know if they were true. Don't worry sir," his mouth twisted into a bitter little line. "You won't be the first to pass me over because of my preferences."
What I did next was stupid. In an office with an unlocked door but I didn't stop to think about that. All I cared about was the pain in those grey eyes, the bitterness and so I got up, walked around my desk and kissed him.
"I'm not interested in one night stands either," I told him, my voice shaking. I was holding him by the arms, perhaps not the best thing to do with a man who could break my neck without even thinking about it but I needed some contact with him. "I want you to be Enterprise's armoury officer."
"I won't be the captain's catamite," he growled, his eyes meeting mine.
My grip on his arms tightened. Was it possible that he'd served under men who had expected him to be their plaything?
"Enterprise's armoury officer. You're the best in Starfleet and that's what I want for Enterprise. The best."
"And the other things?" He asked, surprising me again.
The half-hopeful expression on his face tugged at my heart. "In public I'm the Captain and you're my armoury officer."
"And in private? Even Captain Archer must have some private time."
Slowly I realised what Malcolm was saying, that he wasn't closing the door on me, not completely.
"Protocol.." I stammered, unsure.
"Has its place."
I realised then that protocol and regulations were things that Malcolm used to protect himself. Something to hide behind, so that people couldn't get too close.
I smiled. "Private remains private."
"Then I accept." Malcolm allowed himself a small smile and drew back from me. "I look forward to working with you Captain."
"And I you."
"Permission to leave sir."
"Granted." I was loath to let Malcolm go.
He stopped at the door and turned back toward me, indecision plain on his face. "We'll take things slowly," he stated earnestly.
"I won't expect too much." I promised but after Malcolm had gone the ache in my heart told me no matter what I had promised I was already in love with Malcolm, no matter what the consequences of that might be.
~the end~
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