Malcolm and Hoshi: The Missing Scenes

Terra Prime

“Hoshi!  You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“You shouldn’t be trying to get up yet.”  Hoshi pressed him gently back down onto the bunk. He noticed that she was careful not to touch the area under the bandages.  “As a matter of fact, I’m surprised Phlox let you out of Sickbay so soon.”

“Phlox has far more important things to think of right now.  He didn’t need me under his feet.”  Malcolm submitted, but with rather ill grace.  “I can’t just lie around here, sweetheart.  I’ve got things to do on board ship.  I’ve got a bloody saboteur to track down, and I know where to start.”

“You were shot a couple of hours ago,” she reminded him.  “You have to take it easy.”

“‘I’ll take it easy’ when whoever it is is in the brig and facing a court martial.  Till then, the whole ship could be in danger.  You included.”  He took hold of her hand and kissed it, but went on seriously, “Hoshi, we just don’t know how far these people are prepared to go – as far as it takes, at a guess – and I’ve got to check the shuttle over with Travis shortly, because it developed two malfunctions simultaneously for some reason and something like thatdoesn’t ‘just happen’.  I’m the Security Officer; I’m responsible for the ship’s safety.  Whoever the saboteur is, he got past my guard when I was checking the personnel files, so his affiliation must have been bloody well hidden.  But as soon as a terrorist strikes, he’s out in the open.  I’ll find him.  And when I do....”  The unknown Terra Prime sympathiser would have reason to be very sorry indeed when that happened, he promised himself grimly.

“I’ve brought you a cup of tea and a sandwich.”  She pointed unnecessarily to the tray she’d brought in.  “I can’t stay long, but I thought you might feel peckish.”

“I’m not really hungry, but I’d be glad of the tea.  You shouldn’t be waiting on me, though.”  He sat up again, more cautiously than the previous attempt.  “Any news on the baby?”

“They’re with her in Sickbay. I didn’t like to butt in and ask.”

“Well, if anyone can help her it’s Phlox.”  He remembered seeing, through a haze of pain, T’Pol carrying a bundle that must be little Elizabeth out of the control room, with Trip hovering protectively at her shoulder.  He hadn’t seen much more than that; he’d been transported up to the ship for treatment of the plasma burn to his chest, but that method of transport had been deemed too risky for Elizabeth, tiny and frail.  Shuttlepod 2 had been sent down to carry her up for treatment, and ever since then a pall of anxiety had hung over the ship while everyone waited for news.

Hoshi handed him the mug of tea, and he sipped at the contents appreciatively.  “‘The cup that cheers but does not inebriate,’” he quoted.

“Cowper,” she said, smiling. “Not my favourite poet.”

“Nor mine, but he had the right idea about tea.”  He set the mug down.  “Hoshi, I want to ask you something.”

The sudden seriousness of his tone made her look a little anxious, but he went on quickly.  “No, it’s nothing to worry about.  I want to know what you think about asking the captain to marry us – as soon as it can be arranged.”

It obviously wasn’t a question she’d been expecting.

“What put that idea into your head?” she asked at last, plainly curious and – he hoped – intrigued.

“Oh, I don’t know.  But getting shot sort of focuses your thoughts a bit.  It’s too easy to put things that matter off – to say, well, we’ll do it when the time’s right.  And then five minutes later a plasma bolt on a different setting cancels everything.  I don’t want to die with regrets.  And not marrying you would be the worst I could have.”

“We’d probably have to leave Enterprise.”

He shrugged slightly, then winced again.  The treatment for the plasma burn had been effective, but the wound still had to heal in its own time.  “If it’s a choice between Enterprise and you, there is no choice.”

She smiled and kissed him.  “I’d love to.”

“That’s settled, then.  As soon as we’ve got this Terra Prime business sorted out, you and I make an appointment to talk to Captain Archer.  And I’ll ask Trip to be my best man, but only on condition he doesn’t wear one of those godawful shirts of his.”  He deliberately kept the tone light, trying not to let her think about what Trip must be going through right now.

“Oh, it wouldn’t be the same without one of Trip’s shirts.”  She blinked a few times, but played along.

“It wouldn’t be the same as what?” he asked caustically.  “An explosion in a paint factory?”

“You know you love them, really.  And I love you even when you’re being grumpy.”

“I like to think of it less as ‘grumpy’ than as ‘having a basic standard of aesthetic appreciation’,” he growled.

“You’re doing it again,” she pointed out happily.

He grunted, chuckled, and reached out to hold her hand.  “At least if you love me when I’m grumpy, you love me a lot of the time.”

“Almost all of it, actually.”

“Get out of here, woman, before I drag you in with me and start applying some discipline for failure to respect a senior officer.”

“Oh, I’m so worried.  You with your chest all bandaged up.”

“It won’t be bandaged forever.  And I have a very long memory.”

“Don’t worry.  If you forget I’ll remind you.”

“Tart.”

“Oh, like you don’t like me that way!”

“It was meant in a spirit of pure appreciation.”  He kissed her.  “Now go away and let me recuperate for an hour, and then tell Travis to come down.”

“And you call me a tart!” she said mock-indignantly.  “Anyway I don’t think you’re his type.  Besides, you’d have to fight Gannet for him, and it’d be so embarrassing if you lost.”

“Hoshi Sato, when this bandage comes off you are going to get spanked!”

“If that’s a promise I’ll go fetch a pair of scissors.”

“Vixen.  I’m too sore to do you justice yet.  You’ll just have to wait.”

“Until you’ve had your wicked way with Travis.  I know!”  She walked to the door, grinned at him, and departed.

He lay back on the pillows.  Was he really and truly contemplating marriage with that sense of humour? 

Yep.  To quote one Commander ‘Trip’ Tucker.  He sure was.

 And he couldn’t wait.

The End.