The BLTS Achive - Moving
by Regina Bellatrix (reginabellatrix@creativemachinations.com)

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Archive: Permission to archive granted to EntSTCommunity, Reed's
Armory, BLTS, WWOMB, Tim Ruben, Trekiverse, my own site, and whoever
else wants it – just tell me where you've put it.

Posted to EntSTSlash on 6/30/03

Beta: shakespearespot

N.B.: A fluffly little plot bunny born of my parents' re-modelling
project and the fact that bookcases always seem to have far more in
them than you thought, and the plastic bins you're trying to transfer
the stuff to never hold as much as you think they ought to. ~RB

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"Malcolm, I need another one ah them plastic bins." Trip  looked
around at the stuff piled in his quarters, forehead creasing  as his
eyebrows pulled together, and added, "Maybe two."

*Enterprise's* mission was over, and she hung in spacedock  above
Earth while her crew prepared for their next assignments. Of  them,
Trip Tucker and his lover, Malcolm Reed, had been assigned to
research divisions at Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco. Both
men had been offered the alternative of shipping out on new deep
space missions, on different ships, and together they had chosen to
remain on Earth rather than be separated.

Starfleet had arranged for apartments in the San Francisco  compound
for them to move into when their postings on *Enterprise*  officially
ended in another week. The lodgings were only temporary,  intended to
give the newly returned officers a month to find  someplace suitable
to live, although, they could choose to stay, if  they preferred.

Trip was currently trying to get all of his belongings on the  ship
packed up to be transported to his apartment, but despite both  his
and Malcolm's best efforts, he kept running out of containers to  pack
them in.

"Two?" repeated Malcolm incredulously. "You've already got  six
sitting in the cargo bay. How did you get so much ... *stuff*  packed
in here in the first place?"

"Ain't all from in here. Two bins full came outta your  quarters..."
He grinned sheepishly at his lover. "Been kinda livin'  in there a
lot."

"Hmm, yes ... but how you spending the occasional night in my
quarters equates to having two plastic containers full of your random
possessions in my closet, I absolutely fail to understand." Malcolm
trained his stormy blue eyes on Trip, who simply smiled and shrugged
in response.

"J'st kinda an outward sign of the way our lives're startin'  t' run
t'gether. You had stuff over here too, you know."

"Yes, I know. A toothbrush, comb, razor, deodorant, *a* book,  and
some clothing. An overnight bag full, at best. *Not* two full  bins."

Trip's smile began to falter at the percieved critisism, and  he
looked about for something to shove into an open space in the bin  at
his feet. Arms wrapped around his waist, a bony chin coming to  rest
on his shoulder. He turned his head to see Malcolm giving him a  half
smile, eyes sparkling warmly.

"I don't mind you having your things in my quarters, love.  I'm simply
amazed by how much you snuck in while I wasn't looking.  Just like the
way you snuck into my life." Malcolm gave Trip a  squeeze. "You're
quite insidious that way."

Trip chuckled and planted a little kiss on Malcolm's  nose. "You've
called me a lotta things over the years, Mal, but I  think that's a
first for 'insidious.'"

"There are other words I'd like to call you in the near  future."

"Oh yeah?" He twisted in Malcolm's grip so that he could  comfortably
look down into his lover's eyes. "Such as what?"

"I thought, perhaps, that I could start with 'fiancé' and  work my way
up to 'husband.'"

"Oh Mal... You askin' what I think you're askin'?" Trip  could feel
moisture rising in his eyes and he barely dared to breath  as he
waited for Malcolm to respond.

"I'm asking you to marry me, Charles Tucker the Third. No  more *your*
stuff at *my* place. *Our* stuff in *our* house."  Malcolm's eyes
sparkled like sapphires, and he couldn't help but  smile at the
wonder-struck expression on Trip's face.

"Yes. Oh, *yes*, Malcolm. That sounds j'st perfect." Trip  took his
lover's face in his hands and, tears of happiness rolling  down his
own cheeks, kissed the other man deeply.

When the kiss ended, Malcolm felt compelled to say, "You do  realise
this means that you're not allowed to unpack any of these  bins when
you move into your flat next week. I have no intention of  going
through this all again when we buy our house."

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The End