Sonata for Solo Harmonica - by kyrdwyn (PG-13)
The sound of the door chimes interrupted Trip in mid-note. He swung his feet off the desk and got up, hitting the door release. "Hey, Malcolm," the engineer said with delight. "C'mon in! What brings you by?"
"Commander," Malcolm said formally. "I'm here, as head of ship's security, to investigate a complaint."
"A complaint? About what?" Trip sat down in his desk chair, confused.
"Perhaps I mispoke," Malcolm said. He was standing at ease, yet he still looked like he was at attention. "It's rather more of a threat."
"A threat?"
"Against your life, Commander. By several other members of the crew who inhabit this corridor."
"My life? What'd I do?"
"I beleive it has something to do with the felines that are being tortured in your cabin. An act which, might I add, is a violation of the United Earth Government's Humane Treatment of Animals Act of 2023."
"Felines?" Trip set down his harmonica and frowned. "Do me a favor, Lieutenant?"
"Sir?"
"Speak English."
A smile traced across the Englishman's lips. "Several of the Gamma shift personnel have complained about you playing that." He pointed to Trip's harmonica. "It's disturbing their rest."
"Hey, not my fault if they can't appreciate good music."
An eyebrow rose, making Trip wonder if Malcolm had been hanging around T'Pol too much. "Music?"
"Sure, the blues. Good old fashioned Delta blues." Trip smiled.
"Commander, Mozart's 'Symphony No. 40' is music. Tchaikovsky's '1812 Overture' is music. Boubil and Shonberg's 'Les Miserables' is music. What you were doing resembled the dying shrieks of tortured monkeys."
"It wasn't that bad --" Trip started to protest.
Malcolm raised a hand to cut him off. "Commander, I had to agree to present this complaint to you so that a Lieutenant from engineering would not re-route life support away from your quarters. I'd say they consider it that bad." Malcolm stepped forward and picked up the offending instrument. "Besides, the last time you spent your day off playing this, you ended it by getting yourself stranded on a rainforest planet, with an alien monarch, in your underwear. Not exactly an experience you'd like to repeat, I should think."
Trip blushed, looking down at the carpet. He'd just known, as soon as he'd heard Captain Archer's voice and turned to see the Captain, T'Pol, and Malcolm standing behind him, that he was not going to live this one down.
"Besides, can't you think of something better to do with your mouth?"
Trip looked up to see a slightly wicked smile on Malcolm's face. "I don't know," he said. "I'm not hungry or thirsty, and if they don't like my harmonica playing, they sure aren't gonna like my singing."
"Not even a private performance, just for me?" Malcolm asked, stepping closer.
"Well, uh," Trip gulped. "What kind of performance?"
Malcolm's lips brushed against Trip's. "I want to hear you moan."
*****~~~~~*****~~~~~*****~~~~~*****~~~~~***** Much later, Trip nuzzled his face into Malcolm's neck. "That good enough of a performance for ya?"
Malcolm rolled Trip onto his back and kissed him thoroughly. "I'd say it's worthy of an encore."