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

Title: Under the Radar

Author: Stexgirl2000

Author's e-mail: [email protected]

Fandom: Enterprise

Pairing: Reed/Sato

Rating: R

Category: Het

Summary: A certain person fills Malcolm's thoughts.

Spoilers: Very slight ones from all the Reed centric episodes so far.....

Comments: Please be gentle with me, this is my first fanfic I'm actually posting. (panic, fear, and more panic....) Any comments and suggestions are humbly asked for.

Archived to Reed's Armory on 10/18/2003.

He was feeling too good.

That was the problem.

His work was not suffering. His efficiency ratings were actually up. He knew that certain members of the Armory staff were still calling him (respectfully and with the grudging affection that bonded military staff) the "tight-assed British S.O.B." -especially after some very rigorous training sessions. He knew that other members of the crew still saw him as slightly off-putting and distant. He knew that Captain Archer and Commander Tucker, despite his growing friendship with the Captain and now strong one with Trip, still found him perplexing and more than a bit of an enigma.

He liked to keep things that way. Tactically, it made sense to keep both your friends and your enemies off balance. Unpredictability often kept one safe. Unpredictability made it impossible for anyone to figure out what you would do.

Usually.

As he walked down the quiet corridors that marked the Enterprise as being "night", Malcolm Reed faced the dilemma of having unpredictability thrown right back at him in the form of Hoshi Sato.

Malcolm had wanted her since the day he had met her. He had wrestled the urge to drag her off into his bed into a tightly bound mental box. Then he shoved it deep into the deepest corners of his mind. Fraternization between a Lieutenant and an Ensign would not do, his training hissed at him. Bugger that, you fucking git, Hoshi's special, screamed the wanting that shook from inside the box.

Everything about her was opposite of him. She communicated, she let language be a bridge between others, making things clear. She was a lifeline through strings and strands of words. She used words make living one more day possible. He could destroy in order to protect. He could kill when choices were murky and dark. He could let himself die if it meant that others would live.

Professional regard and calm distance would be the best for them both.

Yet, at night he had fantasized about making love to her. How he could get her nipples to harden, how much pressure it would take for his tongue to make her moan. His dreams told him how soft she would feel and warm it would be inside her. After many cold showers, he tried to think of other women, women like T'pol, who were totally out of reach, totally within only the realm of imagination.

Still, he could not stay away from her. Like a moth drawn to a flame, he began to be friends with her. Malcolm allowed the shy, reserved part of himself to take center stage on the ship because it allowed him the freedom to study her, to know her in ways not sexual. To do so was also tactically sound, a personal slight of hand that let him observe others while they were looking at something else. Or, as his history texts would say, he could slip under everyone's radar.

In this way he could be with her.

So he delighted in her sly humor, her optimism, her growing sense of professional and personal accomplishment. Malcolm allowed bits of himself to come out around her, especially after all she had done for his birthday. He allowed her to see bits and pieces here and there, strewing bread crumbs along the path of friendship.

What he had forgotten was that Hoshi could translate more than the spoken word.

What he forgotten was that the study of language also meant the study of people.

What it meant was that she could slip under his radar.

Tactically, a huge mistake.

Movie night had spawned a monthly poetry slam night, which in turn had started a monthly music night, a chance for the musicians on board to showcase their talents. Once a concert had started, the lights remained off, except for the lighting on the performers. They hadn't gone together, but Malcolm had come in late and stealthily made his way to sit behind her. She had been waiting for him and had acknowledged his presence by leaning back against him. He had been entranced by the feel of her, the smell of her hair. He had relaxed.

At the end of the concert, she had straightened herself up abruptly. When the lights came up, he had thought he had hidden his disappointment at the end of their contact.

"That was one of the best concerts so far. I'm so glad they did some 20th to 21st century rock n' roll and not just classical or jazz." She had smiled at him as he helped her up. It took all of his control not to revel in the feel of her hands.

They had begun walking out together, Malcolm surreptitiously eyeing to see who, if anyone, had noticed. No one had paid much attention to them.

"Yes, it was a good change pace. Although I prefer my music to be more....rythmic. I usually like more percussion and base."

"You would, Malcolm. More booms and beats to go with your explosions," teased Hoshi.

They had walked around the ship, talking about the concert, and the musical choices that musicians had made. The conversation moved into what had happened while they had been on duty. Hoshi regaled with him a particularly raunchy boomer joke that Travis had shared with her and Trip at lunch. She also filled him in on the latest rumors flying around the ship and he in turn added wry comments of his own.

"So what made you come in late?" Hoshi had asked, her eyes sparkling at him. "Don't tell me that you had to recalibrate the phase pistols or something like that."

"Actually, I had to finish a report on some modifications I had made on the phase cannons. I didn't want to leave it until tomorrow. It's actually going to be my day-off of duty, barring strange ships attacking us or a first contact situation going wrong."The last part he said wryly, which elicited one of Hoshi's cascading laughs. He loved her laugh, so he'd missed the flash longing that crossed her eyes.

"Oh, so you're finished with everything for tonight?" Hoshi had given him a look, deep and impenetratable.

That's when Malcolm had noticed that they were now by her door and the corridor was empty.

"Yes, although I should go back to Armory and double check it before I....."

He hadn't gotten to finish because Hoshi had opened her door and pulled him in, kissing him deeply.

The by-the-book, no fraternization part of himself considered stopping her, stammering out an apology and getting away. The other part of him blew up the box of longing and wanting. It howled as it was set free and he let it kick the shit out of his by -the- book side.

They had stood there, kissing each other deeply, tongues dancing, until they had to come up for air.

He had stepped away from her, but she had held on to his hand. Her eyes were cloudy with passion and her voice sultry.

"Tomorrow is my day off too Malcolm. And I'm sick of waiting for you to make the first move. I want you. And I know you want me."

Malcolm stood there, going through all the permutations and combinations of possible outcomes. It took all of a second. Then he pulled her back into an embrace and kissed thoroughly, deliberately, using all of the skills he had learned from less meaningful encounters that were too many to count.

"Hoshi, I'm not entirely what I seem to be. I'm more....more dangerous than I let on." he had said as he trailed kisses on her lips, face and neck, his hands beginning to expertly divest her of her clothing. As emotionally terrified as he was, Malcolm knew that if was not honest with her, he'd damn himself for eternity by hurting her. But he wanted her, he needed her.

"Malcolm Reed," Hoshi breathed into his ear, "I've been learning that I can be tougher, braver than I ever thought I was. I'm not going to be scared away from loving you."

She paused to bite at his neck and then purred, " And Malcolm....I think I'm more dangerous to you than you are to me. "

"Hoshi...." he had tried to say more, but she had pushed him onto her bed and begun to remove his clothing, her hair moving over him, her lips brushing over parts of his skin and he had ceased to think anymore.

Afterwards, tangled up in sheets, her smooth body next to his, he had no regrets.

She had looked at him, a smug, satisfied look on her face. "Care for round two?"

He had pulled her on top of him, kissed her deeply, and in a low voice said, " Hoshi luv, you're right, you are dangerous. Dangerously addictive."

"I love a man who can admit that he was wrong," she had breathed.

"A tactical officer always learns from his mistakes." With that, he began kissing his way down her body.

Now, three months later, he was once again at her door, checking to see if anyone was around before he let himself in to her quarters. Three months of love and sex, of friendship and acceptance, of arguments and disagreements, of learning that both weapons and words could be so similar, of reveling in utter bliss. How had he ever thought that they were so different? How had he ever thought that he could only be her friend?

He was feeling too good.

That was a problem.

Hoshi smiled at him as he came in, kissed him as passionately as she had their first night together. As they began to move towards her bed she said softly, "You need to stop thinking that feeling good is a problem."

"Bloody hell, am I that transparent?"

"Only to me. When it comes to you, Malcolm my love, I have excellent radar."

~the end~