Title: Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice
Author: Chrysa, Jyorraku
E-Mail: chrysa9@aol.com, jyorraku@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13
Category: Humor, Romance
Codes: R/S
Summary: On with the kissage!
Declaration: MARA IS A BETA GODDESS.
Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice
Part I: Hoshi
It all started out so innocently.
Of course, all things start out innocently, a la the road to hell is paved with good intentions, unless you've got a very nefarious intention to begin with, but that's neither here nor there.
All right, it all started on that mission to Merysa, your typical Minshara-class prewarp civilization. Captain Archer went into his "Ohh, Shiny!" mode and it was decided, albeit over Sub-Commander T'Pol's laconic eyebrow-raising protests, that we would go undercover to gather some information.
I wish it had ended there with plastic alien appendages and impending skin rashes. I should have known from the beginning that it wasn't going your typical mission, when I saw the costume I had to wear. Let's just say it didn't leave very much to the imagination. But I didn't see my teammates--consisting of Captain Archer and Lieutenant Reed--react oddly to my alien getup. I didn't know whether to be glad that they were being professionals or upset that I didn't even get a double take in my skimpy little outfit. So I didn't have a figure that made women hate me and men love me at first sight, but I've still got a little vanity. It wouldn't have hurt to see the finest in Starfleet admiring my assets for a second or two, you know?
Once again, I learned that platitudes get to be platitudes because they're true most of the time. "Be careful what you wish for!" Indeed. As we returned from the surface, the shuttle ran into some turbulence. My seatbelt, which by my own admission wasn't securely fashioned, came apart. I flipped out of my seat...and fell right into Malcolm's lap. He had the good grace to wrap his arms around me to keep me from being injured, despite my rather rough landing on him. The shuttlepod rocked about the Merysian atmosphere as my scantily-clad self rocked about Malcolm Reed's decidedly toned body.
When we were finally out of the bad air pocket, Captain Archer gave us the all-clear.
Yes, Hoshi dear, get off the nice man's lap now. I turned my head up and around to give him a smile of gratitude, just as he leaned down, to see if I was okay, I suppose. There was such perfect coordination that I was glad Captain Archer kept his eyes on the viewscreen instead of looking back at us, otherwise I couldn't have explained myself or Malcolm.
The unexplainable result of the aforementioned synchrony was his lips brushing against mine, a faint feathery touch that had him jerking his head away in surprise. The intimate, though accidental, contact of lips, along with the eventual stillness of the shuttlepod, made me realize that it wasn't the arm of the chair or the buckle of the seatbelt that made my current seating situation . . . bumpy.
I don't know what possessed me to say what I said next. Perhaps, like my brothers said, I do have a mean streak beneath my seemingly innocent goodie-goodie exterior. Whatever it was, the words took a one-way trip out of my mouth, laughing all the way.
"My, I didn't know they made phase pistols this large," I blurted out, instantly astounded, and a smidgen proud, of my own audacity. However, I was unaware that Malcolm's face, or anyone's face for that matter, could turn so red, so quickly. He opened his mouth, to offer a smart retort in his defense, I'm almost certain of it, but couldn't find the words as I moved to extricate myself from his arms. I was so wickedly amused that I belatedly discovered that sometime during the turbulence, the string holding my little top together had snapped and the only thing keeping the thin cloth from falling was Malcolm's chest.
"Perhaps you should return to your seat now," he growled impatiently when he realized I had no intention of getting up, oblivious to my dilemma.
"I can't," I whispered, feeling heat crawling up my neck. Oh, how I hate instant karma.
He looked pained. "Why the bloody hell not?!"
"Because you're the only thing keeping my bloody top from falling off!" I shot back.
He automatically glanced down at the proximity of my chest.
"Hey!" I pinched his arm. "Don't look!" I exclaimed, hopefully sounding sufficiently outraged.
If he was red before, he was blushing tomato now. Was it with the embarrassment that he did something so completely male? Or just about our current situation in general? I wasn't sure. And as if it couldn't get much worse . . .
"You two okay?" Captain Archer stuck his head back at us, his brows drawn in a familiar furrow.
Malcolm closed his eyes for a brief second, possibly wishing for some sort of divine intervention. My top, however, short of that miracle Malcolm was praying for, wasn't going to automatically return itself into an upright position.
"Fine, sir," I called to Captain Archer before turning back to face Malcolm, just opening his eyes. My lips twitched and I felt a semi-hysterical giggle bubbling in my chest as I realized that he probably didn't see this coming when he signed up to be the armory officer of the Enterprise. "Never better," I added, my voice cracking as I stared into his mortified eyes.
Said eyes narrowed at me, obviously peeved that I was having fun at his expense. Oh oh. Not a good idea to have the guy with the trigger-happy finger mad at you, Hoshi.
"Just hold still for a minute, okay?" I whispered, reaching for the multitude of strings and trying to retie them behind my back. It could have ended right there. It should have. I don't know whom I pissed off in my past life but he or she was really going for the all or nothing on the payback scale.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow!" I squeaked as a cramp decided to make itself known by setting my shoulder on fire. This really impeded me from tying my top back on. It also made Malcolm frown so hard that for a second there I thought his forehead was in danger of caving in.
"What? What is it now?" he wheezed. As if this was all my doing. Yes, muscle cramps and me, we're like this, they show themselves every so often and I put out the good china.
"A cramp in my shoulder. I can't move my arm," I explained with the growing realization that if I couldn't move my arm, there was really only one way to get around this situation.
"You can't move your arm," he repeated slowly back to me, perhaps thinking that if he said it again, slowly, my muscles would realize their grievous error and return to a state that would enable me to go back to the task at hand. Right.
Must. Not. Roll. My. Eyes.
"Look, just reach down for a couple of those string thingies and tie them together. It's not that hard!"
He made an effort to breath through his nose, and failed rather miserably. "It wouldn't be hard at all if you'd worn something that wasn't so lacking in structural integrity!"
Okay, you know, he really fell into that one through no fault of my own. I wasn't even trying to go there. In fact, after my initial crack, I was dutifully ignoring my bumpy seating arrangement. But after that comment, who could blame me? Who indeed?
A giggle forced itself through my staunchly pursed lips. Malcolm, after the initial mental constipation, realized the double entendre of his words and choked, his face going up in glorious flames.
I don't know what was wrong with me. Maybe it was cramped space in the shuttle, or the fact that the unflappable Malcolm Reed was clearly . . . flapped. But I was really enjoying this. Maybe too much.
After taking several deep chest-heaving breaths, a resolute Malcolm clenched his jaw and appeared to prepare for the task ahead. You would have thought fixing my clothing was right up there with cruel and unusual punishment. Yet all the words went the way of the pigeons when his calloused fingers started probing hesitantly against my bare skin. I shivered despite myself. As I said, I was obviously enjoying myself way too much.
And as he peered over my shoulder to see what he was doing, I, in turn, with nothing else better to do but wait, became mesmerized by the texture of his neck, that part where his hairline faded into skin. I had an almost irresistible urge to touch it, to confirm that it was as smooth and taut as it looked. However, at that moment, my arms were trapped against my sides and somehow I doubted a sudden movement would go across very well with him. So I did the next best thing, or what I thought was the next best thing. The perversity of my mind is still a mystery to me today. Looking back on it, it probably wasn't a very smart thing to do. In fact, it was something like observing a train wreck. I had an out-of-body experience and watched myself from afar, eyes peeking through fingers that were already in that oh-shit-here-it-comes position.
I leaned in closer, breathing open-mouthed against the patch of skin, watching with morbid fascination as the little hairs rose at attention. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I felt his fingers behind me jerk into an abrupt stop as his body went tense. Yeah, if I could have foreseen what I was about to do, I would have braced myself too.
I, Ensign Hoshi Sato, Communications Officer, Ex-Exo-Linguistics Professor, proud daughter of Miyu and Ryuuji Sato, licked Malcolm Reed's neck.
* * * * *
Part II: Hoshi Again
What started as a simple, albeit slightly awkward, "zip this up for me, will ya?" situation was now reclassified as the most embarrassing moment of my life. God, you think that birthday fiasco was embarrassing? No, this one was so far off the scales that it made all the other moments run screaming into their mother's arms.
I stared in absolute horror at the spot on Malcolm's neck. The spot I had licked. The spot that now glistened happily at me. If it had been a living thing I would have killed it right there. Out damned spot! Out I say! Still it winked happily in the shuttlepod lights. I ran my tongue over my teeth. Wonder if it'd be so happy if I bit it?
No. Wait.
Obviously I was losing my mind if I thought biting Malcolm's neck was going to make this better.
Unless I was a vampire. In which case this whole incident would make a lot of sense. You see, Malcolm, your neck looked so good I just had to lick it. An appetizer to the main course, if you will.
Whimper.
Dear God, I needed help. The kind that involved padded walls.
"You're done," Malcolm finally managed to croak out after my mental relapse, speaking of the wayward top that was the cause of this descent into the Let's-Never-Speak-Of-This-Ever-Again land. Okay, not quite the godsend I was looking for but good enough. Get me out of here.
Leaping away from him like a hot potato from an unsuspecting hand, it was a moment before I could understand why he was gawking at me, or rather, at my chest. It was bare.
My barely-there confection of a top decided to hang on to Malcolm's finger instead of staying on my chest. Traitor.
"JESUS BLOODY MOTHER OF--" All kinds of profanity, words I didn't know Malcolm was capable of saying much less knowing, shot out of his mouth as he jumped at me. His arms wound tightly around me, his upper-body covering my semi-nude state as the litany of curses continued.
I stood dumbly in his embrace, feeling his shoulders shake with each word. People these days don't have aneurysms anymore. Of course, I wasn't certain whether to tell Malcolm that, since his heart was palpitating so fast, his head was close to exploding. Among other things.
"What on earth are you two doing?" came a voice behind my back.
Since Captain Archer was neither deaf, blind, nor dumb--on most days anyway, as can be said for all men--there was no way in hell we were going to keep this situation contained. Not with my top on Malcolm's finger and Malcolm on top of me. Malcolm's cursing didn't help either.
"Hugging?" I supplied lamely. I couldn't see what Captain Archer's reaction was, but I doubt he believed me. Heck, I wouldn't have believed me.
"Her..." Malcolm paused, "shirt..." (for lack of a better word, I'm sure), "fell off, sir."
Pause for incredulousness on Captain Archer's part.
"On your finger?" I couldn't see Captain Archer's face, but he was so not buying it. Damn it, he didn't have to sound so amused.
Malcolm made a gurgling noise. Good to know I was capable of making men regress to their infant states.
"He was just trying to put it back on, Captain," I said, sighing.
"Right." Silence. Cute, that was real cute. He thought he was being quiet about his laughing, but he'd obviously forgotten who he was talking to. Or maybe he hadn't. Damn the man! "Okay then, carry on."
Oh, he'll get his one day. I'm sure of it. Cross that, I'll make sure of it. Malcolm wasn't too happy either. I could actually hear his teeth grinding next to my ear. But why is it I couldn't resist the silly loopy grin on my face? The kind that you can actually feel stretching across your face? The kind that, the kind that, with accompanying horns and a pointed tail, would most likely scare children and those weak of heart?
"You could have just turned around and handed me a blanket, you know." Hee hee.
He froze. I angled my head away from him, an ill-conceived attempt to cover my grin. Too late.
Groaning, he released me, keeping his eyes away from my general direction before reaching into the compartment behind him for a blanket. "Why do you have to be so...so..." he muttered under his breath.
"Fluent?"
"Exasperating!"
"Oh, so I get a rise out of you, do I?" Ohh, that was a good one. Bad Hoshi, bad!
He keeled over at that comment. Ah, the force of my personality overwhelmed him.
Waving that blanket like a proverbial white flag, he kept his line of sight confined to the back of the shuttlepod.
I carefully wrapped the blanket around my chest. No way this sucker was falling off.
"So...are you planning to keep my top as a souvenir?" Perfectly reasonable question, don't you think? I certainly thought so.
It must have been too much for him, though. He looked from me, wearing almost nothing but a blanket, to my itsy bitsy, teeny weenie top then back again in complete confusion.
You know I always did wonder if it was true what they said about men not having enough blood to operate both, no we won't go there. But I have always wondered.
After another double take his brain finally connected the question to the article of clothing on his finger. Another round of amazing expletives erupted from Malcolm's mouth as he pointed his finger at me.
"If you two are done...doing whatever it is you're doing back there, the shuttle's docked," Captain Archer's amused voice called from the ladder.
Rat bastard. I will have my revenge, I swear on all the dead goldfish my brother had growing up. With as much dignity as one could have wearing almost nothing but a blanket, I snatched up my bikini top and stalked over to the ladder. Double-checking to make sure my blanket was secure--yeah, the last thing I needed was a repeat performance for Trip and anyone else in the shuttle bay--I started to climb.
Another explosive round of swearing from below me told me that Malcolm had attempted to climb and then ended up looking up my blanket.
A smirk lifted my lips. Well, it was late but I got a reaction to my clothing.
I, Hoshi Sato, am so bad. I rock!
* * * * *
Part III: Malcolm
She'll be the death of me one of these days. They'll put it on my autopsy. Cause of death: Hoshi Sato.
Knew she was going to be trouble from day one. You know the saying 'It's always the quiet ones'? That goes double for small, quiet, innocent-looking women. They always find a way to clobber you.
I should know. My sister's done it to me all my life and I still underestimate her. She once told me it was the cuteness factor. You never equate cuteness with the ability to wreak havoc on unsuspecting people.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
What the hell was that? That sound? That was my head banging on the metal ladder in resignation.
It was quite soothing, actually.
The sound of Trip's southern drawl caught my attention. Please don't be on the ladder still...
Oh, there is a god, I thought. She's not on the ladder. Maybe I could run up and get out of the shuttle bay without totally humiliating myself again. I reached the top of the ladder, just as Trip looked at Hoshi in utter confusion. Captain Archer just stood there with a hand over his mouth, eyes bouncing back and forth between Hoshi and I.
Do they court-martial you if it's justifiable homicide?
"Hey, Hoshi. Was...the...mission...okay?" Trip gave Hoshi's get-up the once over.
It didn't bother me. Really, it didn't.
Where's the reset button when you need it? It would have helped to start the day over.
"It was more exciting for some than others." She stuck her pert nose in the air and gave me a pointed look before stalking off, leaving me to deal with the inevitable fallout.
"So, Malcolm..."
Here it comes...
"Did you two have fun on the shuttle ride?" Trip gave me the wink wink, nudge nudge and suggestive eyebrow waggle of a man who thinks he's being funny...
And failing miserably.
Must. Not. Shove. Phase. Pistol. Up. Ass.
But it was tempting. So very, very tempting.
In the end, even though my face felt like it was on fire, I managed to to overcome my homicidal impulses and replied, "It was a very bumpy ride." Ignoring Trip's widening eyes I escaped to the turbolift.
Not before Captain Archer let out a bark of laughter, however.
At a court-martial I'd get off scot-free.
Once in the turbolift I gratefully sagged against a wall and ran my mind through the insane events of the day. When I got to the Hoshi minus bikini top part, I shuddered. Except it wasn't one of those Oh-good-Lord-I-saw-my-grandmother-naked types of shudders.
The 'Hoshi is my sister' concept of thinking that I had adopted at the beginning of this mission had sung, packed its bags and left the building.
I didn't know she could be such a bad girl.
I was in so much trouble...because underneath this uptight exterior, there's a bad boy that wants out.
* * * * *
Part IV: Hoshi
I kept thinking, 'It's not morning. It's not morning. It's not morning.'
It was morning.
Crap.
Normally, I'm a "Get up! Let's go!" morning person but after the...bikini incident, I really wanted to stay in bed. Completely covered. Possibly forever.
Not so brave today, huh, Hoshi? Okay, maybe not. Everything looks different when you've regained your mental capacities. At least it was my day off. I could stay in my quarters all day...
And if I were on a starvation kind of diet, the plan would have worked. Then I looked at the time. Hmm, maybe I could run in, grab something and run back. It's a good thing I have three brothers. I've honed that five-minute-change-and-dash skill. Five minutes and thirty seconds later I was on my way to the mess hall.
Only to discover Chef had made pancakes and there was the line from hell waiting for them.
Of course Malcolm was at the end.
The Fates were conspiring against me.
Before I could turn tail and run screaming like a madwoman from the room, another group of hungry people pushed me into place behind him.
Guess who was right in back of me.
Trip.
Double Crap.
"Hey, Hoshi!"
I repeated my mantra: 'Don't say his name. Don't say his name. Don't say his name.'
"Malcolm!"
He said his name. That's it, he's off my Christmas list.
The compact Brit in front of me stiffened for a moment like a deer caught in the headlights of an 18-wheeler before turning. "Commander, Ens--" He stopped to take in my clothing.
What the hell was I wearing anyway? That was the only problem with five-minute-change-and-run. Unless you've planned out what you're wearing any combination is possible...
Like a tank top and a skirt with a slit up to my thigh...Oh my God...
Waitaminute. Why was I embarrassed? He was the one checking out my legs.
Hoshi. My name is Hoshi and my legs are not on the menu.
Perhaps snarkiness at seven a.m. is not a good idea. So I cleared my throat.
His eyes soared back up to meet mine. Yes, my eyes are up here. Good boy! The man can blush at the drop of a hat. What a rush.
Power is an awesome thing.
"Morning, Malcolm." I shifted a little to the right and showed a little more leg...then watched his eyes start to move down again before he realized what he was doing. Maybe venturing outside wasn't a bad idea after all.
"Good--ahem," Frog in your throat, Malcolm? Heh. "Morning, Hoshi."
"Fancy meeting y'all here," Trip said, eyes twitching in such a bizarre manner that I wanted to ask him when was the last time he had a checkup with Phlox.
But from the corner of my eye I could see Malcolm's cheek twitching in a similar manner. For a brief moment I considered the possibility that these strange muscle spasms were contagious.
Then it hit me. Slow of me, yes, but give me a break, it was seven in the morning! I don't process things quickly without that first cup of coffee.
I got it. It was guy talk...the talking that guys do--without actually talking.
Now, I know I did a disservice to my profession by not investigating this novel form of communication, but hello...stomach...growling...hungry. Do not stand in the way of non-grammatical Hoshi!
"Malcolm...the line," I said, pointing behind him. No, that didn't qualify as a whine, no matter how high pitched it was. Unfortunately, Malcolm and Trip were still "communicating", the former paying no attention to the progressing line or me.
"MALCOLM!" I nearly yelled, jumping in place, trying to get his attention.
Oh, I got his attention all right.
Yet another byproduct of getting dressed in five minutes.
No bra.
My God, they're just breasts, you'd think by the way he gaped at them that they were made of gold.
I think all his blood did go south because the next thing I knew, his had tray clattered to the floor.
How could I not have seen this a mile away?
I blame it on the lack of coffee.
I bent down to retrieve his tray, just as he snapped out of his stupor.
Yes, yes, our heads knocked, hands touched. Dear God, when was all this going to end?!
Apparently, never, because the next thing I knew, Trip, who had turned around to talk to Liz Cutler, started walking, or rather TRYING to walk--right over me! Did they not teach him to walk and talk and WATCH WHERE THE HELL YOU'RE GOING at the Academy?
Malcolm, recovering from the loss of blood by the evidence of his blush, looked up and yelled out a warning, "Trip!"
"Ack!" I could feel him starting to topple over me, but Liz, good old Liz, grabbed Trip back before he could fall over. Unfortunately, in a fit of deja vu, the momentum of Trip's weight caused me to fall right on top of Malcolm.
Who dropped his tray and grabbed me around the waist as we fell. I, scrambling for something to hold onto, managed to wrap one arm around his shoulders and used the other to attempt to break our descent. Full body contact from chest to hips to--Good Morning! I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying something about phase pistols. It would have been bad form, considering he kept my head from hitting the floor with his lips!
You didn't seriously think we'd escape full body contact without ending up in a lip lock did you? Of course not, fate wouldn't be that kind. It was a glancing kiss, kind of a 'Happy New Year' meets 'Christmas mistletoe' kiss but more on the completely unexpected side. However, before I had a chance to either analyze it or wish for a large hole to open up in the floor and swallow me whole, we bumped into the people standing in front of us.
I used to be fascinated by the falling of dominoes. I've been to domino competitions. People spend countless hours carefully setting them up to make elaborate pictures like the Mona Lisa or building skyscrapers and bridges. Hours of work and it would only take a minute to knock them all down. It's fascinating to watch.
It took ten minutes for the mess hall line to form that morning.
It took thirty seconds for everyone who'd been in front of Malcolm to fall over.
You never realize how many people are multilingual until they start swearing in every language they know. After the initial confusion everyone sat stunned. The people in line behind Trip stared at all of us in a mixture of amusement and disbelief. Breathing heavily. Malcolm and I looked at each other. I bit my lip looking for something, anything to say.
"Must have been one helluva shuttle ride yesterday." Smug sonofa--
I swore at that moment they'd never find Trip's body or the smirk on his face. I'd bury that separately. A soft growl told me Malcolm was probably thinking along the same lines. Well, his lines might just be more violent than mine. I wondered if he'd let me watch him take Trip down. An evil, mischievous look entered his eyes and before anyone could say...anything actually, he hooked a foot around one of Trip's ankles and pulled.
"AACK!" Trip lost his balance in a spectacular view of flailing limbs and curses trying to grab onto Liz for balance. He pulled too hard and took her--and consequently the back half of the line--down with him.
Maybe I'll keep Malcolm on my Christmas list.
"Good mor--" Just when I'd figured it couldn't get any worse Captain Archer walked in on his way to breakfast. You could almost hear his jaw hit the floor as he looked from one end of the line to the other. Must have been a hell of a sight, me practically lounging on Malcolm's body, his arms wrapped around me, and half the crew sitting on the floor dazed. "Do I want to know?"
We merely shook our heads.
He nodded slowly. "Okay, then." Pretending as if nothing out of the ordinary was occurring, Archer turned and walked into his dining room.
Malcolm cleared his throat.
"You know you really should see Phlox about that throat."
"Perhaps when we get off the floor."
The floor...oh yeah...full body contact...Oops.
"Don't even think about phase pistols, Hoshi."
I looked from his face down to his arms still locked about my waist. With an evil little smile I leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "But, I'm not the one who's got it locked, loaded and ready to go, Malcolm."
Leaving him with that swirling in his mind and another blush I rolled off him and rose. I got my breakfast and walked out the door with a well-deserved smirk on my face.
Hoshi: 2, Malcolm: 0
Damn I'm good. Even without coffee.
* * * * *
Part V: Malcolm
I will never look at a phase pistol the same way again. Damn her!
I tried not to look as she sashayed herself out of the mess hall, hips swinging, legs strutting. It was hard--that is as in DIFFICULT--not to stare when there was so much to stare at. So many stare-able things. Oh dear Lord, have mercy...bouncy things.
"Goooolly, Malcolm. I've never seen ya so red before," Trip said with that irritating smirk on his face as he sat his tray down in front of my table.
One of these days. One of these days.
"Must have been some ride, Lieutenant," he said with a toothy grin.
One of the things about being an armory officer, you learn things that other people don't even realize can be learned. Such as how to strangle a man without actually killing him. I refrained myself from cracking my knuckles. Somehow I doubt Captain Archer would like it very much if I attacked his chief engineer in the mess hall.
It would be bad for crew morale.
I glared at him and got up to leave.
"Leaving so soon? Oh, that's right, it's Hoshi's day off." The man laughed and patted me on the back, making me wonder if he really needed both arms to maintain the warp engine.
"I'm going to the armory," I growled, "I work there, remember?"
Trip nodded agreeably before leaning over to whisper, "And no one's going to know if you just happen to drop by a certain off-duty communications officer's cabin on your way there. Don't worry. I won't tell if you don't."
Then the man giggled. It was the only thing that kept me from throttling him. Must get away from giggling man.
I exited the mess hall as quickly as my legs could take me, and wondered if the day could possibly get any worse. After all, it was only 0700.
I stepped through the doors of the armory and breathed a sigh of relief. Work, sweet work. Work would be my sanctuary from Trip's giggling and Hoshi's bouncy bits. Hoshi's bouncy bits?! That was wrong, Malcolm, so very very wrong.
However, with any luck I would be able to put thoseparts out of my mind and get to work. Yes, just put those parts out of my mind and do an honest day's work. Then I turned and saw the half open weapons locker.
Phase pistols
Well, it was a nice try anyway.
* * * * *
Part VI: Armory
The armory on any normal day of the week is a beehive of activity. If it's not a drill, it's a meeting, a recalibration of equipment, maintenance, or planning next week's schedule.
Sometimes, it's all of those things at once.
Then again, sometimes it's just simply moving a piece of equipment from one side of the department to the other.
Which was happening that day. In order to do maintenance on some of the weapons racks the crew had to move several cargo containers of supplies over to the other side of the department. So everyone pitched in and the room filled with chitchat and laughter, sometimes a little swearing, sometimes an outright yell of pain when a container slipped and landed on a foot. Good clean fun for the whole family, right?
Well, good clean fun except for the small grease spot that ended up on the floor when Dimitri Nicropolous set his container down to get a better grip on it. Normally, he would have asked one of the others to get a mop and clean it up, that way he could see if the container itself had a leak or if the grease had been picked up from some other part of the armory. But the stain was directly underneath the container and so he never even noticed it.
If there was one thing that could be said about Malcolm Reed's department it would have to be that it was very clean. Every morning and every evening it was mopped down to get rid of any grease that might be lurking on the floor or the ladders. Others might think this a little anal but Malcolm knew the last thing anyone wanted to do was slip and fall and crack their skull open on the floor.
It sort of ruined a person's day when that happened.
But nobody noticed the poor little grease spot on the floor and no other grease spots formed to keep it company so it was very lonely.
Poor little grease spot sitting there with nothing to do...
* * * * *
Part VII: Hoshi
Travis was in the turbolift when I got in to return to my quarters. He gave me his trademark grin, after staring at my get-up for about twenty minutes. The man had a LOT of white teeth. A LOT. That's right, Travis, stare away, tell me how hot I am, because I am HOT. Malcolm certainly thought so.
"Lookin' good, Hoshi," he teased.
See! Hotness!
"Thanks! It's my day off." I smiled happily at him, trying to show a lot of my white teeth too. Probably not doing as well as he was, though.
"Really? Think you could do me a small favor?"
"Of course!"
Because I am hot, I am on fire, I am--
"Could you take this to down to the armory and give it to Lieutenant Reed? He's not expecting it till noon, but I finished the specs last night and I think he would probably want it ASAP...Hoshi? Hoshi?"
"Whaa?" I stopped listening when he got to the part about Lieutenant Reed. Death by Chinese water torture would probably have been less torturous than my day off. And it was only 0700! I felt my lip pout and tremble. Was I really too old to throw a tantrum? Couldn't I just pretend I was five again and start wailing about the total unfairness of my life? Couldn't I?
"Errr, you know what, that's okay. You don't have to, really!" Travis said, his happy display of teeth gone, probably wondering what the hell he did to make me on the verge of sobbing my heart out.
No! "No!" I said, yanking that padd out of his hand. Malcolm Reed wasn't going to get the best of me. No sir! "I will deliver this to him! Personally! Face to face! Man to...woman! Because I rock damn it!"
Travis moved progressively farther and farther away from me, unsure what to make of my rabid mood swings. The door opened just as he took another step back. He fell on to the deck of the bridge with a loud thud, wide eyes blinking at me.
"Don't worry, he'll get what's coming to him," I stated with such supreme confidence that it had to be true.
"Ok," he said, nodding slowly at me, as if a sudden movement would set me off again. Heh. I grinned at him. This time, I totally had more teeth showing than he EVER did.
* * * * *
Part VIII: Malcolm
Wonderful, wonderful work. Nothing bouncing. Nothing giggling. No wink, wink, nudge, nudge, sly innuendo for me to deal with. Just the good-natured chatter of a healthy, happy crew working.
Then she walked in.
Of all the gin joints in all the world...
I was halfway through the armory with my container when she walked in. Still wearing that skirt that showed a dangerous amount of leg and suddenly all thoughts of work flew out of my head. Want to know what replaced them?
Phase pistols. All waiting and ready to fire.
Damn! My sanctuary! Gone!
She took five steps in and stopped, and--dare I say it?--challenged me. And there was nowhere to hide, nowhere for me to bury my head and hide behind work.
Dammit, I'm Lieutenant Malcolm Reed. Stiff arsed, no nonsense, Armory officer. Was I going to let some slip of a woman get the better of me?
Well, if she were wearing a slip it'd be a very nice--No! Get your mind back on track, you nitwit!
I was not going to let her get the better of me.
Her eyes tracked around the room and a smile lit her face. Not trusting it, I looked around the room and found the entire male population of the armory smiling back at her.
Of all the...
"Here, Jacobs, since you seem to have no trouble carrying your container you can carry mine while I talk to Hoshi," I said, dumping my container on top of his.
Jacobs staggered under the weight and stumbled forward. "No problem, Boss!" he gasped out. The other men looked at each other and scattered like field mice.
By the time I turned around again she'd sauntered over to one of the worktables and was leaning against it. Sweat broke out on my forehead as she slid one finger up the side of the padd and back down again. An eyebrow arched daring me to comment on the susceptibility of all men to her charms.
And despite the sweat congregating at my temples, I decided it must be cold in here...and she still wasn't wearing a bra.
The combination of which made me warmer than I should be.
I am Lieutenant Malcolm...ummm...Well so much for higher cognitive functions.
Her slender finger went up one side of the padd and back down the other. All of this action took place in the vicinity of her braless chest area. When I finally remembered to breathe I croaked out, "What--ahem!--What can I do for you, Hoshi?"
"You really should see Phlox about that throat, Malcolm," she smirked, crossing her ankles and leaning back on one hand. "I've got something for you."
It took me a moment to realize she was talking about the padd. "Ahh. Of course." All right. Just act perfectly normal, breathe slowly and AHHHH!!!!!
My feet flew out from under me and I pitched forward watching her face turn from sultry to shock and then disappear altogether as our lips, not to mention our bodies, crashed into each other and fell back onto the table. One of my hands landed on the table the other...
"HOLY MARY MOTHER OF-" I sprang back off of her and hit that slippery patch again. My feet flew back out from under me and with an inarticulate screech I landed on my back. "Ow."
We really should clean the ceiling. I never realized how dirty it could get.
A pair of long, gorgeous legs filled my field of vision and then disappeared again as Hoshi bent down. "Malcolm? Are you okay?"
I couldn't help it. My eyes drifted from hers down her outfit and back up again but not before lingering a few moments on her breasts. Her eyebrow went up again and a smirk lit her face. "Well, you must not be suffering from too much brain damage, but I still think we should get you down to Sickbay."
"Okay." Yeah, anything sounded good right now. Even taking a nap on the floor with this bloody grease spot staining my ass sounded good. That sounded like a great idea. I watched her get up and head for the comm. unit on the wall and call Phlox. Just focus on the ceiling, Malcolm.
Then I saw Jacobs looking down at me. "Grease spot on the floor, eh, Boss?" He gave me two thumbs up. "Nice job!"
I reached up and grabbed the collar of his uniform. When his face was just a few inches from mine, I snarled. "You and every man in here will scrub this department from floor to ceiling before you go home tonight with a toothbrush."
"Yes, Boss."
"One bloody toothbrush!"
If I was going down then I was taking everybody else with me.
* * * * *
Part IX: Hoshi
Dr. Phlox was expecting us. Goodie. Because I've always wanted to spend my day off in sickbay. Big rollercoaster of fun! And no line. How lucky are we? The luckiest!
I turned back to Malcolm, who, with the help of crewman Jacobs, tried to stand up right. He waved off Jacob's help as he got to his feet, but was still swaying dangerously in place. Big macho baby. No, Malcolm Reed doesn't need help, not even after being knocked on his ass by a grease stain. I walked up to him, and since his eyes were strangely attached to the vicinity of my legs, I bent down to meet his eyes.
He blinked with a frown on his face as our eyes made contact. Apparently I was obscuring his view and he wasn't taking it very well. Well too damn bad, these were my legs! If he stared at them anymore I would have to start charging.
"Malcolm...do...you..need...help...walking?" I enunciated very very slowly. And just for fun, very very loudly.
Narrowing his eyes, he glared balefully at me and replied, "No...and...I...am...dazed...not senile!" Then he nicely backed that statement up by proceeding to plunge head first into my chest.
I gasped and nearly fell over from the impact. That did it. It was then I decided there was more than one way to make this macho man to admit weakness. So, before he could straighten himself, my hands came up to hold his head in place, right up against my braless chest. He flailed about like a poor fish on a hook. Wait, did that make me the bait? Sigh. The things I do to persuade a fellow officer from being such an ass.
"Are you sure you don't need any help, Malcolm?" I asked sweetly, pressing him deeper into my cleavage.
"Help!" he wheezed.
Instant results! Good job, boobies! I should totally get them bronzed with results like these. Just how good am I? Heh. Good enough. I just hope he realizes the sacrifices my cleavage and I are making for him. I don't do this for just anyone, you know.
"Let's go then!" And to his crew, I said cheerily, "Don't worry, I'll bring him back as good as new."
I think I heard Jacobs, and many others, choke back a laugh as Malcolm gasped for breath after being released from my bosom. Once he had enough oxygen to speak coherently, he pointed vaguely in Jacob's direction and growled.
"One. Tooth. Brush."
* * * * *
Part X: Malcolm
I hadn't weaved that much since I got completely smashed at a New Year's Eve party when I was twenty-one. At least my experience on the Enterprise was something I could remember. Hoshi was a steadying hand at my back, my shoulder, my head, my elbow...Actually, whenever I seemed to lean to one side she grabbed whichever part of me was handy and pulled me upright. Whenever I pitched forward she grabbed my waistband and hauled me back. This resulted in probably the most painful wedgie of all time.
And she smirked the entire time. Imagine! Smirking at my pain when she was the cause of it all. I'd have given her a wedgie in return but I would have either stumble into a wall or found she didn't have any underwear on for me to grab.
I grimaced as my mind took that idea and ran in circles with it. Wasn't I dizzy enough? Did I really need to go down this route?
Thank God no one had their cameras out for this. Stumbling through the corridors and blushing was not a Kodak moment I wanted captured for posterity.
After three near-collapses and a run in with a slow-moving turbolift door we finally made it to Sickbay.
"Phlox?" Hoshi called out.
A few moments later the smiling Denobulan walked out of his office and smiled. "Ahh. Hello, Hoshi! Lieutenant Reed. And how are we today?"
I chose that moment to fall to the floor. I guess my body decided that actions spoke louder than words.
Phlox was silent for a moment. "Not well, I see."
"Malcolm and a grease spot had a disagreement. The grease spot won and punished him by making him slip and hit his head on the floor." Hoshi stifled a snigger. "And you might want to check his throat."
I would have rolled my eyes but that would only have made me dizzier. It'll be okay, I thought. She'll leave, I'll lick my wounds in private, chock it all up to an insane hallucination and tomorrow we can just pretend it never happened.
It sounded like a plan.
I liked having a plan. It gave me the illusion of control before everything went to hell. Phlox was kind enough to help me up and over to a biobed. You know, they should clean the ceiling in here, too. Its got these swirls in it...Oh, it was spinning, that's why.
"Well then, let's see..." He started humming and looking at the readings on the board behind me. He picked up a hypospray and after adjusting the setting, gently pushed it into my arm.
I let out a sigh of relief as the spinning stopped and my stomach took back its place in the middle of my body again. Phlox leaned over and smiled at me. He smiles way too much. I'm sure he keeps a large bottle of happy pills somewhere.
And I think he shares them with Trip.
I heard another hypospray hiss but since I didn't feel anything against my skin and since Phlox was holding a padd with both hands I had to conclude that Hoshi was still in the room. Looking over, I saw her holding a hypo in one hand and looking at it curiously. She shook it and looked at me with a sheepish smile. "Oopsie." Before I could say anything, Phlox got my attention.
"There we go, lieutenant," he said with an even bigger smile than before. "No permanent damage but I want you to rest for the next day or so just in case." He looked at me as if I were going to protest.
After the day I'd had there was no way I was going to protest. Hiding in my quarters sounded like a marvelous idea.
"You must have hit your head harder than I thought. Lay here for awhile. I'll come check on you in an hour and if everything is all right I'll let you go back to your quarters."
"Great." I closed my eyes and relaxed, forgetting about Trip, Hoshi, bouncy things and the weirdness of today. I heard Phlox bustle out of the room and open a comm. channel to the captain telling him I was out for the rest of the day.
"Heeeey. You're pretty."
Huh?
I must have hit my head harder than I thought. I peered at Hoshi through my eyelashes as she came to stand next to the bed. She giggled. I didn't know what she was on, but I wanted some of it.
Then her eyes got wide, and she comically pursed her lips before whispering conspiratorially, "Are you ticklish?"
"What. . ." What kind of a question was that? Then it hit me. The hypospray. "Doctor! DOCTOR PHLOX! Hoshi, Hoshi, give me that. Did you inject that into yourself?!"
She giggled again and lunged for me as I rolled off the bed and onto the floor.
"Hosh--YIPE!" I ducked and ran as she scrambled over the biobed and managed to goose me before I could escape her hands. "PHLOX!!"
"What is--Oh dear." Phlox stood at the door to his office, dumbfounded as he watched Hoshi chase me around sickbay.
"What was in the hypo?!!"
"What hypo?"
"THAT HYPO!!!" I screamed, passing by him and pointing back at the one she'd left on the biobed.
"I don't know...Unless I didn't give my bat his medicine as I thought I had. Let me think."
"Phlox!"
"Yes?"
"THINK FASTER!!"
"Malcolm! I'm just trying to get to know you better!" Hoshi called out as she put on a burst of speed and grabbed my rear before I leapt over another biobed.
"No offense, Hoshi, but I don't think we should do that in your present state of mind."
I was on my second lap around Sickbay when Phlox suddenly brightened. "I remember. Liz came in with a twisted ankle and I put the hypo down and tended to her. I forgot all about it!" He laughed.
He laughed! I was being chased around Sickbay and he was laughing! I skidded around a biobed and dived between his legs. Unfortunately, Hoshi was right behind me and as I got up she turned me over--man she's strong!--and got me on the lips before I could slide away.
"Gee, Malcolm, thought you liked me," she said, licking her lips and getting up.
Is this what prey feels like?
"Phlox, what does that bat medicine do to humans?" I asked, backing up and around a bed, watching her carefully.
"Well," Phlox began, tilting his head to the left, "it will work its way out of her system in a few hours. Nothing truly harmful." He slid to his left. "Only..."
"Only?" She lunged to left and I flung myself to the right, tucking and rolling, barely able to stop myself before running into a medicine cabinet. I crawled under another bed.
"It acts rather like an aphrodisiac in humans." He looked at Hoshi and when he knew she wasn't looking, he motioned to his left and took another step in that direction.
I was too stunned to understand what he wanted. An aphrodisiac? Then I peeked up over the bed at Hoshi. There she was, like a cat waiting to pounce.
"Come on, Malcolm. I know you want to."
Okay, yes, I wanted to. I'm a red-blooded man. Put a beautiful woman in front of me and what do you expect? But this was Hoshi. I respected her. I liked her. I'd never take advantage of her.
Besides, she'd kill me.
Slowly.
Painfully.
That would be a bad thing.
I ducked down and looked back at Phlox who was standing next to the decon room. Oh...OH! I got it! Hey, I had a head injury. Can you blame me for being a little slow on the uptake? I took a deep breath and peered over the edge of the bed. "Hey, Hoshi," I said, smiling and standing.
"Yes?"
"Bet you can't catch me!" I took off for the decon room. Her footsteps pounded after me and dashed into the decon room. It would have been perfect except I slipped and skidded across the floor, Hoshi flying in after me. I scrambled to my feet and ran for the door. Phlox urged me on, his hand on the door controls but as I stepped out I felt a hand in my collar and a hard yank and suddenly I was on the floor and the door was clo
