It Takes Two to Tangle

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Lieutenant Reed stared rigidly at the bulkhead opposite his forehead. It was easier than staring into the twin points of steel that were fixed on him from the direction of the captain’s chair.

“I always understood you were very much a regulations man, Lieutenant.” Archer’s voice was perfectly level.

“Reed family tradition, sir.” He heard the reply, aghast. Flippancy was definitely not called for in the present circumstances.

“Yes. I’d have thought so.” The other man rose and closed the distance between them. “I don’t believe everything I hear on this ship, and I don’t want to believe that you’ve suddenly decided to go against every one of these ‘family traditions’.”

Malcolm swallowed. “Permission to speak freely, sir.”

“Granted.” Archer looked wary.

For one insane moment the lieutenant actually contemplated saying ‘How would you feel about being a godfather’, but the inside of the brig wouldn’t be a good place to find out that the captain hadn’t got that much of a sense of humour. “It’s – it’s not what it looks like, Captain,” he said, opting for the less suicidal option. “If you’ll trust me, you’ll find out that it’s not. Eventually.”

“Hmm.” The other man leaned back against his desk, arms crossed. His stare had become slightly less glacial. “If it’s not what it looks like, do I get to hear what it actually is?”

“It’s – a secret.”

“The sort of secret everybody on the ship seems to be talking about. That’s not much of a secret in my book.”

“It’s a secret while they don’t know what it is.”

Archer paused, obviously considering. Reed risked a glance at him. There was the faintest suggestion of a smile crinkling the corners of the captain’s eyes, and observing this he felt some of the knots in his stomach begin to loosen. Neither of them had uttered the word fraternisation. They hadn’t had to. Once summoned alone to the ready room he’d already known what subject would be under discussion. T'Pol had such acute hearing, and in all fairness once she cottoned on to the issue she wouldn’t have had much option but to pass on the information to her superior officer.

“Hoshi’s a very pretty woman,” the captain remarked almost casually. In the ready room, however, remarks were very rarely – if ever – as casual as they might sound.

“Yes, sir.” It was unlikely that any male member of the crew hadn’t noticed that. Malcolm stared at the bulkhead and concentrated on keeping his shoulders correctly rigid.

There was another long pause. There was an infinite variety of tones in which that assent could be couched, and he suspected that his commanding officer was analysing with the greatest care what his terse words had conveyed. After a few moments, however, Archer’s arms uncrossed and he straightened up. “Well, I guess if I have the word of a Reed that it isn’t what it looks like, I’ll have to wait like everyone else to find out what it is.” He nodded dismissal.

* * *

Trip had had a long, trying day. He trudged down the corridor, wondering why in damnation he’d forgotten to pick up his favourite hypospanner when he was working on the latest upgrade to Shuttlepod One that morning. He hadn’t needed it since then, which was why he hadn’t missed it till now; and it seemed unfair to send one of his staff down to search here and there when he knew the areas he’d used it in and would be a darn sight more likely to put his hand straight on it. Two seconds, most likely, and he’d find it – then he’d take it to his quarters and leave it on his desk so that he’d have it on hand first thing in the morning. He preferred to leave everything exactly in its place in engineering, but that night he was just too tired to go all the way back with the spanner.

It was no more than coincidence that he spotted the line of light that showed under Cargo Bay 2’s doors. There certainly shouldn’t be anybody in it at this time of night. Probably whoever had visited during the day had forgotten to put the lights out. Shrugging, he stepped to the door control, intending to go in and remedy that oversight. An instant before his thumb contacted the panel he heard a low, husky voice from within, its breathlessness not for a moment disguising the unmistakable British accent. “If you were playing your part properly, you’d be more ... attentive.”

“How so?” Hoshi’s voice, sounding rather ragged.

An indrawn breath, and the male voice dropped and became soft and shockingly sensual. “I’d be paying you to do this.”

Tucker froze where he stood. ‘Paying you to do this’?

There was a pause, filled with small unidentifiable sounds of movement and the occasional gasp.

“Malcolm, when you’re doing it this well I feel like I’d pay you to do it every night.” It was a throaty sound of satisfaction, half muffled as though it was purred into a bared chest.

A moment later, after more noises of movement within, there was an unmistakable giggle. The communications officer now sounded happily scandalised. “I can’t get my leg down. I’m stuck somewhere.”

“Well I can’t take my hands off your bum or you’ll fall.” The lieutenant’s voice was back to its customary clipped practicality, but his breathing was unsurprisingly fast. “I told you wearing something like this would cause problems.”

Ears burning, Trip walked off in a hurry. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t believe that the reference to payment had been anything more than part of some rather exotic role-playing; but exactly what sort of role playing would involve Hoshi getting her leg stuck somewhere while Malcolm was supporting her with his hands on her ass was simply mesmerising. He’d tried a few unusual positions in his time, but that had never happened to him. Damnation. Trying to work out how that could have happened would keep him awake half the night.

TBC