The BLTS Archive - Moonbeams in a Jar Second in the Swingin' on a Star series by Regina Bellatrix (reginabellatrix@creativemachinations.com) --- Spoilers: Unexpected, The Andorian Incident, Oasis, Detained, and Precious Cargo Beta: shakspearespot Archive: Yes to EntSTCommunity, Tim Ruben, and BLTS. All others please ask. --- It was another First Contact that was going admirably well. A few more like this and they'd begin to make up for the times they met people like the Suliban, Klingons, Andorians, and Tandarans. The Morla were a friendly, generous people, with the interesting distinction of being empaths. Their mental abilities seemed to help forestall a great deal of confusion; being able to sense intent kept them from being offended too easily. Helpful as it was, Malcolm found it all rather unnerving. He'd found himself keeping an even tighter rein on his thoughts and feelings while around any of the Morla since one incident involving Commander Tucker. One of the women who had been given the task of showing the away team around the capital city had flirted shamelessly with Trip for a good ten minutes before Malcolm had succumbed to a silent flare of hurt and jealousy. The tiny woman had stopped talking, blinking in shock, eyes flicking to Malcolm and back to Trip. From then on, she stopped flirting with Trip. All questions he asked of her were answered with polite distance, but no more. Poor Trip had been utterly confused, and Malcolm was horrified. The woman knew how he felt about the engineer, breaking off her flirtation when she realised it hurt him. She kept giving him sympathetic looks. He'd never been so embarrassed in his life. Luckily, tonight was their last night with the Morla. The sympathetic glances would be left behind, no doubt for other, less considerate women. Trip was a charmer who adored women, and Malcolm had long since resigned himself to that fact. It didn't hurt any less to watch him with all of those women, but at least he knew the limitations of their relationship. --- "He is in pain. None of the others seem to know, or if they do, it does not concern them. We should remove him," said one of the young ones. "And what of the others?" asked a Wise One. "They will not understand why we have done this thing. He will likely not understand." "It is a chance we must take. We can make them understand in time, I am sure. He is in pain. We can bring him happiness." The Wise Ones considered this, and they conferred. When they reached a decision the Eld stood to announce it. "It is as it has been. Cruelty has no place in the universe. This Hum'aan is in pain. His comrades cause it and do not seek to right it. We will remove him to Sanctuary until such time as his damaged spirit is mended. It is decided." --- The meal had been quite pleasant. Malcolm enjoyed it greatly, after he had surreptitiously scanned it for substances to which he was allergic. He had no desire to repeat the fiasco from *Enterprise's* last First Contact, during which he'd frightened everyone by having an allergic reaction to the local food. Now, he was simply reclining at the table, enjoying the drowsy feeling of one who has eaten well. Trip was across the table from him, chatting with one of the Morlan men, a beautiful creature whose flaxen blonde hair was bound in an intricate braid around his head. Malcolm was contemplating the pretty picture the two presented when he felt a tingling sensation overtake him. He barely had time to realise what it reminded him of before the dining hall disappeared. --- One moment Archer was having a pleasant conversation with two of the Morlan Wise Ones, and the next he was looking down the dinner table in shocked confusion at his Chief Engineer. Said engineer was on his feet, bellowing the Armoury Officer's name at the top of his lungs. "*Malcolm!* Sonovabitch! You *bastards*, bring him back. Now!!" Archer stood himself, now. "Trip! What's going on?" "They took 'im, Cap'n! Somebody j'st beamed 'im away. From right in front of me!" Trip's face was turning several interesting shades of red, working its way to an apoplectic purple, and the Southerner reached out a hand to grasp his dinner companion, who was inching away from him. "D' you know somethin' 'bout this??" "Commander! Let him go." Archer relaxed marginally as his friend instinctively followed his command. The engineer seemed bent on ripping to shreds all that stood between him and the retrieval of his friend. The last thing Archer needed was to have one officer on trial for aggravated assault while another was missing. He shook his head. Why was it that Malcolm was always the one disappearing? "Captain," the voice of the Eld Wise One broke through his thoughts, "please calm your man. There is an explanation, but it will not be given until we can be assured that no one will be harmed." Archer gave the wrinkled Morlan a sceptical look, but moved to calm Trip, as per her request. T'Pol, Hoshi, Phlox, and Travis were already gathered around the engineer. The Denobulan and Vulcan performing scans of the area, the two Humans each with a hand on the distraught man, speaking to him in low tones. The captain added his own touch and words to the mix, trying to focus his old friend. When Trip finally calmed, Archer brought his attention back to the old woman. He was disconcerted to see that the room had cleared of all the Morla save for the Wise ones. "You said you had an explanation for me, Eld. Why do I have the feeling I won't like it?" "You likely will not," she said, "but it is necessary. A Decision of the Wise was made yestereve to remove your Lieutenant Reed from your keeping." "J'st who the hell do you think you are?" shouted Trip, practically spitting in rage. "Trip, not now!" Archer glared at his friend until the man backed down. Turning back to the Morla, "Do you mind telling me why you took my officer?" "He was in pain." Trip sucked in a hissing breath at this, and Archer shot a glance back at him. For whatever reason, this statement had an effect on him. The man had gone very still, and very pale. "We have removed him from a harmful environment to rest and heal in Sanctuary," continued the Eld. "When he is healed of his heart-wounds, we will release him." The old woman paused, staring past Archer at Trip. "But not to you. You should leave now." "Can I see him?" Trip asked tentatively. "T' say goodbye, at least." The Eld studied him intently. "Perhaps. The Council of the Wise will consider your request. You will have an answer by this time tomorrow." She made a dismissive gesture, and the away team found themselves transported to the bridge of *Enterprise*. --- Malcolm was surrounded by beautiful women and handsome men and he was angry enough to chew brick. He'd been transported to a set of lush quarters, where a sweet young woman had carefully explained why he had been brought here. The men and women in his rooms were at his service -- to fetch him food and drink, to bathe him, give him massages, or simply to talk to. He didn't want any of it. All he wanted was to be back in his cramped little quarters on *Enterprise*, with his weapons and Trip. The mention of this had produced a sad expression and a gentle refusal. The refusal and the way the young woman looked at him as if he was the victim of some mental-emotional trauma had set a match to his volatile temper. He raged at everyone within hearing range and paced incessantly. Malcolm really wanted to hit something, but it hardly seemed fair to punish his 'servants' and none of the furnishings were sufficiently breakable. Finally, he threw himself down onto the over-stuffed sofa to sulk. It was terribly childish, but the Morla hadn't left him with many other options. He curled up, determined to wallow in self- pity, but was thwarted by his own body's needs. He was asleep within moments. --- Trip sat in the captain's ready room, waiting for his old friend to tell him why he had been summoned. Eventually, Archer looked up fixing him with a serious look. "First off, the Eld contacted me to say that the Council of the Wise decided that you may see Malcolm. You'll be given a half an hour on the day after tomorrow. I suggest you talk to the rest of his friends to see if anyone has any messages to pass along. I'm working at getting him back, but it may take a bit, and he'd probably feel better hearing from everybody. "Secondly, Trip, I have to ask: Were you, are you and Malcolm ... involved?" "Cap'n?" "Are you in a sexual relationship with him?" Archer paused, swallowing. "One which involves him being the submissive to sadomasochism?" "*What?*" Trip goggled at his friend, whom he had thought knew him better than that. "I have to ask, Trip. The Eld tells me that he's in pain, that you, you specifically, hurt him. Last night, when she said that he was in pain, you reacted oddly. Like you knew." "Cap'n ... *Jon*, you know me. That's not who I am. My reaction... Well, back on Nakral, while he was delirious an' T'Pol an' I were tryin' t' git him outta his hidey-hole, he said that I hurt him. Now, I had no idea what he was talkin' about an' when I asked him later, he wouldn't tell me. Said there was nothin' I could do about it; it was j'st who I am. But he didn't want to lose my friendship. He wanted me t' drop it, so I dropped it. Now, this happens..." "You need to try harder, Trip. When you talk to him day after tomorrow, if you can fix this ... problem between you, maybe they'll give him back." "Please don't tell me I'm our only hope, Jon. I don't know if I c'n manage it." "Not our only hope, Trip, but probably our best. Their technology is far better than ours -- we can't take him back by force, and with their empathic abilities, I doubt we could take him back by guile. We just have to convince them it's for the best." --- Malcolm was running out of things to do in captivity, and it was only midway through his first full day. He couldn't bring himself to eat another thing. He'd already had a massage and two baths. His servants were all very nice to look at, but they weren't really good at starting conversations, and he'd never been much of a conversationalist himself. They were all so young anyway; he didn't feel comfortable with them. Not the way he was with Travis and Hoshi, who had always reached out to him and were, at least, Human. He was just about to start pacing again, when the most incredible looking man Malcolm had ever set eyes on stepped through his door. "Hello, Malcolm, is it not? I am Jabir. I thought you might wish for some company other than the serving staff." The man was gorgeous, no doubt about it. Easily two metres tall, he had a graceful, slender build. Blue-black hair fell past his shoulders, a wide streak of white at his left temple. His skin was alabaster-pale, and glowed with a healthy vibrancy matched only by the sparkle in his soft green eyes. It was a clear-cut case of lust at first sight. Love at first sight had been reserved for Trip, but Malcolm saw no harm in lusting after so fine a specimen as this. After all, it wasn't as if he actually had a romantic relationship with the commander. He was perfectly justified in looking. He just wouldn't touch. --- Look, but don't touch had lasted Malcolm for about six hours. They'd talked for those six hours, about Malcolm and his job, about his friends and family, about Trip. Malcolm couldn't remember ever being this comfortable talking to someone, and it took its toll on his defences. Jabir was handsome. Jabir was funny and intelligent. Jabir was available and willing to engage in a little comfort sex. Or a lot of comfort sex. It had been twenty-four hours since Jabir had entered his quarters. In that time they had talked, fondled, fucked, and slept. Malcolm had enjoyed almost every minute of it. Occasionally, he would think of Trip and begin to feel guilty, but Jabir would always start kissing him at these moments, driving Trip's memory away along with the guilt. Just now, they were wallowing in a bubble bath. The tub was huge, with plenty of room for four people before it got crowded, but they sat next to each other, gently stroking one another. Jabir began to nuzzle Malcolm's neck and pulled the smaller man into his lap, the better to reach. The Morlan licked and nipped at the Human. His hands pinched at nipples, stroked Malcolm's rapidly hardening member, and teased at his sensitive opening. Malcolm was aching with need in less than a minute, and pushed off, coming to rest on the other side of the tub. He hooked his elbows over the edge, letting his body float in a nearly horizontal position, and spread his legs invitingly. Jabir moved to kneel between Malcolm's legs, nipping lightly at the inside of his well-muscled thighs. Malcolm moaned, moving his hips encouragingly, and then gasped as the other man pulled him to his body as he thrust inside. He threw his head back, making appreciative noises when Jabir's ample cock found his prostate, sending jolts of pleasure through his body. He was too far gone by the time he came to notice that he was screaming Trip's name. --- There was a careful tapping at the door to the bedroom, and someone entered. Malcolm chose to ignore the intrusion, snuggling deeper into the covers and Jabir's unconscious embrace. A hand shook his shoulder, and he glared up at its owner. "I am sorry to disturb your rest, but you have a visitor." The woman gave him an apologetic smile. "I will tell him you will be out momentarily." She turned and glided back out to the main room, presumably where his mysterious visitor awaited. Malcolm extricated himself from his lover's arms and slid out of bed. He made a quick trip to the bathroom and then considered whether or not he ought to get dressed. It was tempting to walk out naked, giving his visitor an eyeful by way of punishment for making him get out of bed, but it was a short lived fantasy. What if it was Captain Archer waiting for him? Deciding not to put off his visitor any longer, Malcolm simply pulled on the bottom half of the pair of unworn pyjamas the servants had laid out for him the night before. His uniform it was not, but it was quick and better than nothing. When he stepped out into the main room, his heart nearly stopped. Trip Tucker was pacing around with a worried expression on his face. He was beautiful. --- Trip looked up when he heard the bedroom door closing. There was Malcolm, dressed in a pair of loose pyjama bottoms that hung off his hips and nothing else. He had that delectable look of someone who's just crawled out of bed, and Trip didn't think he'd ever looked sexier. Before he could stop himself, he'd bounded over and caught his friend up in a bone-crushing hug. An unruly portion of his mind remarked on how good it felt to have that hard body pressed up against his own, but he quickly silenced it. His one and only male relationship had not gone well, ending in a rather spectacular bout of emotional fireworks, and he had since resolved to stick to women. It seemed especially important to hold himself to that resolution now that a cherished friendship was at stake as well. Still, Trip indulged in drawing in a deep breath to savour Malcolm's scent. He stopped short, blinking and releasing his friend. There was somebody else's scent on his Armoury Officer. Malcolm gave him a curious look. "I don't suppose you've come to take me home?" He frowned and shook his head. "No. I don't even know where we are. The Morla transported me directly from *Enterprise* to here. The transporter beam is of too short a duration to track. No, this is the Council of the Wise lettin' me say goodbye." "Oh." The Englishman looked crestfallen. Trip drew him over to a seat on the sofa, and determined to try and lighten the mood. "Some nice digs you got here, Mal. Downright opulent." "Yes, they are, quite. Lots of room, cushy furniture, king sized bed, attractive servants to wait on me hand and foot... What more could I ask for?" Malcolm gave him a half-hearted grin, and Trip fought not to reach out and hug him again. "So they're treatin' you okay, then?" "Oh yes. Other than this whole captivity thing." Trip's head shot up. Someone else had just entered the room from the bedroom. A tall, dark, handsome, and half-naked someone. Suddenly, he knew that this was the man whose scent he'd detected on Malcolm. Jealousy flared. He'd long since given up on being polite to the Morla, so he went for the direct, and utterly tactless, route to finding out just who this guy was. "Who the hell are you?!" The man stopped, looking a little as though he'd just been struck, and answered, "I am Jabir." "Good for you. What're you doin' here?" "Trip!" He knew Malcolm was glaring at him, but he didn't look over to find out. If he did, he'd have to acknowledge his rudeness. "I," said Jabir, pulling himself to his full height, "am providing Malcolm with companionship." Malcolm. The interloper was calling Reed by his first name, and Reed wasn't objecting. Trip wondered what else this man had done that Malcolm hadn't objected to. The next thing he knew, his mouth was running away with him. Far, far away. "Providin' companionship? That what you people call whorin'?" It was a mistake to say that. "*Trip!*" Malcolm's voice was like the report of an old- fashioned rifle, and Trip knew that he was in trouble. "Jabir, please excuse us for a moment. I think I need to have a word with Mister Tucker here in private." Jabir complied, moving over to place a kiss on Malcolm's cheek before he left. Malcolm's steely blue eyes never left Trip, keeping the Southerner pinned down in shame. He kept silent until the Morlan was safely out of the room. "That, Charles Tucker the Third, was completely uncalled for." Malcolm's enunciation was clipped and precise. He spat each word out like a bullet. "You've insulted someone who has never been anything but kind to me and humiliated me in the process. I had expected better of you." Trip knew that he ought to take the well-deserved reprimand and apologise for his behaviour. Unfortunately, jealousy got the better of him, once again, and he rose to his own defence. "Shit, Malcolm, you're sleepin' with the goddamned enemy!" "The Morla are not the enemy! Jabir certainly is not." "Not the enemy? They *abducted you*, Malcolm. What the hell do you call that?!" "They mean well..." "Mean well? Does the phrase, 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions,' ring any bells, Malcolm? I distinctly remember you usin' it on me not so long ago." "Perhaps, but since when are you allowed to 'sleep with the enemy' while I'm not?!" "What the hell're you talkin' about?" "The names Ah'len, Lianna, and Kaitaama spring to mind." "They were not the enemy!" "Oh?" Malcolm arched one eyebrow in a disturbing imitation of T'Pol. "Ah'len essentially raped you. Lianna's ... people abducted you to fix their computer core, and held T'Pol hostage. Because of Kaitaama you were abducted, forced to escape in a too- small pod, and you yourself admit that she was a class-A bitch! What the hell do *you* call *that*?" Trip didn't know how to respond to that. Malcolm was absolutely right; he was being unfair. Granted, he hadn't actually slept with any of those women, though it had been a close thing with Kaitaama, but it was still more attention than Malcolm had received up until now. And ... he had rather lead everyone to believe that he'd had sex with the First Monarch. There was really no excuse for him to get pissy because Malcolm actually had got laid. He bowed his head and did what he should have done to start with. "I'm sorry, Mal. Here I was s'pposed to be workin' things out with you, so we might be able to take you home. Instead I'm bein' a jealous ass. Truce?" "Jealous?" Malcolm's anger was rapidly diminishing in the face of this apology. He was now being taken over by curiosity ... and hope. "What do you mean, jealous?" Trip blushed, and Malcolm watched in fascination as the crimson hue spread across the man's features. "Yeah. I guess this is where I admit to being a dumbass an' somethin' less than a model officer. I ... I'm kinda sweet on you, Malcolm. I've been tryin' to convince myself otherwise for a while now. My only experience with a male lover left me kinda spooked. That's why I was, well, throwin' myself at anything with breasts that was remotely available." Trip hung his head again, playing with a zipper toggle on his uniform leg. "I also didn't figure you'd be too keen on the whole fraternisin' with a superior officer bit." "Oh Trip. I'm at something of a loss. I..." Trip looked so pathetic. For once, Malcolm let his emotions guide him and he took the blonde man in his arms, reaching up to kiss him squarely on the mouth. "I love you. I've been so jealous of all those women... That's what I meant on Nakral when I said you hurt me. "For a while I'd thought you might be interested in me, but then you kept chasing after them." He shook his head. "I'm sorry you had a bad first experience, love. Would you allow me to make it up to you?" "You know, there's nothin' I'd like better." "Shall we start now?" Trip grinned, wrapping his arms around Malcolm. "What'd you have in mind, handsome?" "I'm in the mood for something slightly kinky. A bit of a psychological levelling of the plane, if you will." "What's that?" Trip looked sceptical, but willing to trust. "How about a little low-level bondage?" "Bondage?" That made him a bit nervous. "How is this gonna help us?" "It helps us because I prove to you that you can trust me, and I get to lay to rest part of my fear of you running off with a woman by tying you down -- literally and figuratively. Are you up for it? Do you trust me? We can do something else if it makes you too uncomfortable, but I really think you'd find you enjoyed it." "I don't know..." Malcolm pressed himself closer. "Please?" Trip still hesitated, though he looked less reluctant, and Malcolm rubbed his body against the engineer's. "*Please*, Trip." He let his eyes slide half shut as he tilted his face up, smiling seductively. "If I git transported back to *Enterprise* naked 'cept for handcuffs when my half-hour is up, I'm gonna kill you." --- Trip strained against the smooth silk bonds holding him spread-eagled to the bed and moaned. Malcolm definitely deserved to have a note in some file somewhere as having a mouth which qualified as an instrument of torture. Sweet, wonderful torture, but torture nonetheless. He tried lifting his head to watch, but a skilful suck at his weeping cock caused his eyes to roll back in his head, which simultaneously collapsed back onto the pillow. His bucking hips were held down by gentle hands. Just when he was sure he was going to come, the clever mouth disappeared. It re-appeared over his own, tongue diving between his gasping lips. When he finally recovered enough to open his eyes again, Trip found himself gazing up into passion filled blue orbs. It rocked him to see that sort of emotion laid bare on Malcolm's face. The only strong emotion he was accustomed to seeing the Englishman express was anger. "Holy shit, Malcolm," he said between gasps, "you are somethin' ... extraordinary." "Why thank you, Mister Tucker." Malcolm punctuated the statement with a kiss. "Would you like me to ... finish you?" Trip gasped and arched against the smaller man as Malcolm ground his erect penis against his own. "*Please*." --- "We should send him back to his ship." Jabir stared at the screen of his comm unit intently, willing the Council to listen to what he said. "We remove him to Sanctuary for his well being, and now you wish us to send him back. Do you doubt our judgement, youngling?" "No, Eld, I do not. Sanctuary has served its purpose. He is happy now. He should be sent back to his ship. If he is not, he will deteriorate. He will become worse than when we sought to rescue him." "Why say you this, Jabir?" "The one you have allowed to see him, Trip Tucker ... they have reconciled. There was great misunderstanding on both their parts; the time in Sanctuary has allowed them to confront it and clear it away. At this moment, their souls are singing in joy at being together. To separate them now would be the greatest cruelty. "Please, Eld, you have always taken my recommendations concerning the return of Sanctuary guests. Do not change now." --- Malcolm luxuriated in the warmth of the bed, stretching languidly and draping himself on his sleeping lover. His lover. Trip Tucker. Malcolm sighed happily at the thought. Reaching up to play with the blonde's spiky hair, he contemplated kissing him awake. The thought was forestalled by a light knock at the bedroom door. "Yes?" "Malcolm, it is I." Jabir stepped into the room and moved quietly over to the bed. He sat on the edge while Malcolm slowly sat up. The movement disturbed Trip, who pried his eyes open and glared when he saw their visitor. "You. What're you doin' here?" "Trip." The reprimand was gentle, softly spoken, and Trip blushed at it. "Sorry." "I have news for you," said Jabir. "The Council have decided to return you to your people. When Tucker leaves, you will go with him, Malcolm." Trip let out an undignified whoop and crushed his lover to him in a celebratory embrace. Malcolm grinned like a madman and landed a kiss on Trip's lips that caused the topaz blue eyes to go wide in startlement. "The servants will bring you food and your cleaned uniform shortly." Jabir smiled at them both, if a little sadly. "I will miss you, Malcolm, but you belong with Tucker, and I am truly happy for you both." Malcolm reached out and caught the Morlan's hand as he moved to leave. "Thank you, Jabir. For everything." "You are very welcome." He lifted Malcolm's hand to his lips. "When you are ready, summon a servant to take you to the transport room. You will be transported to the landing pad where you left your shuttle so that you may return it to your ship. "May you have a long and happy life together." --- The End