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"Done At Last" Author - Kathy Rose | Genre - First Time | Genre - Humor |
Main Story | Rating - PG-13 Author: Kathy Rose A/N: OK to archive, just ask first, OK? *~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Malcolm finished putting away the last of his tools, heaving a sigh as he did so. It had been the longest stretch he had ever spent without a break in the armory. It had been worth it, though. The torpedo launchers were back on line, and Enterprise could once again defend itself. He wouldn't have been able to get it done if it hadn't been for Trip. The chief engineer had helped with the repairs in the armory, despite the fact that his beloved Warp 5 engine had been severely damaged in the attack. Malcolm had been pleasantly surprised by Trip's arrival so soon after asking for his assistance. What he hadn't been prepared for was Trip's outrageous behavior. When Trip started spouting innuendos one after the other, he wasn't sure if the engineer was kidding around or was testing the waters, so to speak. At the time, only the need to have the weapons back online as quickly as possible had kept him from questioning Trip about his behavior -- or decking him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Trip packing up his tools. He sighed again, remembering Trip's remark about having the right tool and his friend's pointed glance at his crotch. Maybe Trip was so tired he'd been unaware of what he was saying. They'd both had an incredibly long day. "'Bout ready to call it a night?" Trip asked as he closed up his tool kit. "Yes, but I think it's morning now," Malcolm replied. Trip chuckled. "Come on, then. I'll buy you a cup of coffee." "Coffee? Won't that keep you awake?" "Nah. Not when I'm this tired. Piece of pie with a cup of coffee and I'll have just enough energy to get back to my cabin and hit the sack." Malcolm would rather have been by himself to unwind, but the growling of his stomach overruled any protest he could have made. The attack on Enterprise had occurred in the morning, ship's time, and the subsequent cleanup and repairs had taken the rest of the day. With a start he realized he had gone the whole time without eating a thing. Together they left the armory and rode the turbolift up to the mess hall deck. At this time of night there was only one person in the mess, a crewman restocking the food cabinet from which the crew could help themselves outside regular meal hours. Trip made a beeline for the cabinet. "Ah-ha. Must be my lucky night. There's one slice of pecan pie left." Malcolm picked out a roast beef sandwich and went to get a glass of water from the dispenser. Trip followed him and got his coffee, then the two sat at the closest table. Neither spoke as they began to eat. As he took a bite of his sandwich, Malcolm watched Trip cut a piece of pie with the edge of his fork, then put it in his mouth, savoring the flavor before he began to chew. When Trip closed his eyes and an expression of bliss transformed his face, Malcolm choked on his sandwich. Trip's eyes popped open. "Ya OK there, Malcolm?" Malcolm nodded, holding one hand to his chest as he coughed. When he stopped coughing, he took a drink of water. Over the rim of the glass, he saw Trip looking at him, but the engineer didn't say anything. "I want to thank you for coming down to the armory so soon," Malcolm said. "I couldn't have gotten all that done without you." "That's what I'm here for," Trip replied easily. The men went back to eating in silence, and Malcolm finished his sandwich while Trip still had half a piece of pie left. The food had restored Malcolm's spirits, and he felt an urge to tease his his friend. Gazing at the half-eaten slice of pie through narrowed eyes, Malcolm said, "You said you prefer to do things slow, but that's ridiculous." "Ah, Malcolm, Malcolm," Trip chided him. "Some things in life are meant to be savored. I've made an art out of it." "Is that so?" he asked with a quirk of his eyebrow, a hint of laughter in his voice. "Yeah. That's so." Trip met his gaze levelly and, without looking at what he was doing, placed another forkful of pie in his mouth. One pecan, however, fell off the fork, and wound up on Trip's chin. Malcolm burst out laughing, but his throat hadn't totally recovered from his coughing spell, and he began to cough again. Trip hastily swallowed the piece of pie and reached across the table to grab Malcolm's glass of water and thrust it into his hand. "Take it easy there," he advised. Malcolm raised the glass to his mouth and managed to down some water. The coughing spell subsided, and Malcolm felt a wave of weariness wash over him. "It's been a long day. I've got to get some rest," he said, pushing back from the table. "See you in the morning, or should I say later today?" "I'll walk back with ya," Trip said. The men were silent as they made their way out of the mess hall and down the corridor to the turbolift. Once inside, Trip pressed the button for their deck. As the lift began to move, Malcolm found that, despite his exhaustion, his mind was going back to earlier in the day when... OK, he thought, be honest. Trip had been flirting with him. To his surprise, Malcolm realized he wasn't offended. He'd never had that type of relationship with a man. Hadn't actually thought about it, really. But for some reason, Trip made him think about it...and wonder what it would be like. Or maybe he was just more tired than he realized and his mind was playing tricks on him. Whatever. He was too tired to care about anything right now but finding his bed and going to sleep. When the turbolift stopped and the door slid open, he stepped out first. Malcolm's cabin was closest to the turbolift, and he turned to say "good night" to Trip, only to find the engineer's face mere inches from his. His words caught in his throat. Trip was leaning toward him, a look of purpose in his half-closed eyes. Malcolm was too stunned to move, even as Trip gently touched his lips in a kiss. The engineer leaned back, a half smile on his face. "See ya in the morning," he said, then resumed walking down the corridor to his cabin. Malcolm watched as Trip entered his quarters without so much as a backward
glance. In a daze, he realized he was still standing in the middle of the
corridor. He turned and entered his own cabin knowing that, despite his
exhaustion, it was going to be some time before he could sleep. Setting His Sights is a continuation of this story.
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