Reed's Armory -- A Malcolm Reed Fanfiction Archive ..

Title: Alive

Author: Regina Bellatrix

Author's e-mail: [email protected]

Author's Web site: http://www.creativemachinations.com

Fandom: Enterprise

Pairing: Tucker/Reed

Rating: PG-13

Category: Slash

Spoilers: Desert Crossing

Summary: This sappy little fic is set immediately following the episode "Desert Crossing."  There are no other spoilers in it, however.  I just couldn't resist the concerned look Malcolm shot to the back of the shuttlepod before resolutely turning to the flight controls when he rescued Trip and Jon.

Archived to Reed's Armory on 06/26/2003.

Malcolm slipped into the dark quiet of sickbay and carefully raised
the light level to half-brightness.  It was well past midnight and
Phlox had long since retired for the evening.  That was fine with
Malcolm.  He didn't want to run into the doctor.  He just wanted to
be alone ... with Trip.

He hadn't had the chance to visit the man since they'd brought him
and the captain back to the ship after their desert ordeal.  Malcolm
didn't relish the idea of trying to talk to Trip with the doctor,
captain, and everybody else hovering about, but it had still hurt
not to be able to see him, to make sure that he was really alright. 


When T'Pol and the alien, Zobral, had pulled the captain and
obviously ill engineer into the shuttlepod, it had taken all of
Malcolm's self-control to stay in the pilot's seat.  He had wanted
to run to the Southerner, to cradle the blonde man in his arms, to
cover him with kisses, and rejoice that his love had been returned
to him.  There had been no time for such things, however.  He had to
get them back to *Enterprise* before the shuttlepod was detected. 
Frivolous emotional displays would have to wait.

Afterward, Trip had been rushed to sickbay.  Heat stroke, the
captain said.  He was in bad shape, but Phlox would fix him up, good
as new.  It meant, though, that Malcolm had to wait even longer to
be with the man. 


Technically, Trip wasn't supposed to have any visitors until
morning, but as Chief of Security, Malcolm had access to just about
any place on the ship, and he couldn't wait until morning, when he
would have to be on the bridge anyway.  So, he snuck into sickbay in
the middle of the night. It was oddly invigorating, and highly
romantic, paying an illicit visit to his lover while most everyone
else slept.


Malcolm came to a halt at the side of Trip's biobed.  For several
minutes he simply stood there, noting the steady rise and fall of
the other man's chest, the sunburn pinking his skin, the sweet
expression his face took on in sleep.  Assured of Trip's well-being,
Malcolm gathered himself to leave, but there was one thing he
wanted, no needed, to do before he left.

Resting one hand lightly on the Southerner's chest, he leaned over
and brushed his own moist lips against Trip's cracked and peeling
ones in a gentle kiss.  Golden lashes fluttered open, revealing eyes
of heavenly blue.

"If it ain't my very own Prince Charming."

Malcolm blushed and grinned back at Trip.  "I hadn't really meant to
wake you, Sleeping Beauty.  I just needed to make sure you were
alright."

"Hey, I'm fine."  Trip reached up to Malcolm's hand on his chest,
twining their fingers together.  "Never lettin' Jon con me into
visitin' another desert again, though."


There was a moment of silence before Malcolm managed to choke
out, "I was so worried about you.  We couldn't scan the surface,
couldn't take a shuttle down to look for you... at least not until
Zobral showed us how to get past the planet's sensor net.  We had no
way of knowing whether you were alive or..."  He swallowed roughly,
blinking back tears.  "I was absolutely beside myself."


Trip extended his hand toward the Englishman's collar, latching onto
his uniform and gently tugging his head down.  "C'mere where I c'n
reach you, honey."  Their lips met for another kiss, Trip caressing
the side of Malcolm's face.  "I'm okay, sweetheart.  Really I am. 
There's nothin' you could'a done any differently that would'a made
things turn out any better than they did."

Malcolm closed his eyes and rubbed his face against the hand Trip
still had cupped around it.  "I know," he whispered.  "That doesn't
make it any easier, though."

Trip shifted his hand so that he could stroke Malcolm's lips with
his thumb, fingertips resting lightly on high cheekbones.  Their
faces were mere inches apart, breath mingling as two pairs of blue
eyes sought each other out and locked together.

Malcolm's lips parted at the pressure, and he took the digit into
his mouth, sucking at it and swirling his tongue around it
deliberately.  Under his gaze, Trip shifted restlessly, pink tongue
darting out to wet his lips.  Malcolm could feel the heat radiating
off of the blonde man as he leaned over him and knew it to be more
than just his sunburn.


"Say, Mal," Trip said huskily, as he watched the other man suck at
his thumb, fascinated, "you ever consider making love in a biobed?"

Malcolm gave the thumb one last hard suck before removing it from
his mouth to speak, causing Trip to moan softly and squirm.  His
mouth quirked in a grin, and he said, "Somehow, I don't think that
would be such a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Because you, silly boy, are sick, and I am not supposed to be
here.  Your heart rate would shoot through the roof, which, I'm
betting, would set off alarms on the bio-sensors and bring Phlox
down here in a flash.  Assuming, of course, that the thing didn't go
ballistic as soon as I crawled in there with you."

Trip sighed and made a face.  "I suppose you're right."

Malcolm smiled and rested his forehead against Trip's.  "Of course
I'm right.  I'm always right."

"Now, wait j'st a danged mmmrrfff..."  Malcolm kissed Trip
passionately, stopping his protest.  The engineer arched up into the
contact, his muffled words turning into incoherent moans.  Their
tongues sparred briefly before Malcolm broke the kiss, leaving Trip
whimpering in reaction.


"We'll finish this tomorrow, Trip, when Phlox lets you out of
sickbay."

"You," Trip paused and licked his kiss-swollen lips, "are an *evil*
man, you tease."

A bright smile broke out on Malcolm's face, showing the rare glint
of white teeth.  "Hmmm... perhaps."  He straightened and took a
small step back from the bed, though he left the fingers of his
right hand entangled with Trip's.  "I really ought to go now. 
Before my libido overrides my better judgement.  I'll see you
tomorrow?"

"Come hell or high water."  Trip tightened his grip on his lover's
hand and then reluctantly relinquished his hold on the man.


Malcolm turned to leave sickbay, stopping shortly at the door prior
to turning the lights off.  "Good night, love.  Sweet dreams."

"Oh, you know it."


The lights dimmed, Malcolm slipped back out of sickbay.  He walked
down the corridor to his quarters, a new spring in his step because
he knew that his love was safe and sound, and very much alive.

~the end~