Demolition Lover's Lane
by Jazzy (jazzy2may@hotmail.com)

---

Archive: Yes, please, (and all previous chapters
too.) Warp 5 (or anywhere else is fine by me. Just
let me know where it ends up.) ;D

Warnings: SLASH, WIP, UnBeta'd, H/C, Non-con,
Angst, Drama, Humor, Dark stuff, funny stuff, AU
stuff. :D

---

"He what?!" cried the startled and quickly
escalating to enraged Security Officer.

"The Cap'n disappeared, Mal. He hooked up with this
lady friend and, before I knew it, they were at a
spa together and then...  Well... He... He uh,
disappeared," explained Commander Tucker weakly.

Lieutenant Reed's eyes flared cold fire. Ice blue
went to frost periwinkle. "How could you lose the
Captain?" he demanded, exasperated. "You're his
third in command and dearest friend. How could you
just, how could he just... " He spluttered, then
stopped, took a calming breath, and continued. "Did
you get the local police involved? Have you
searched the planet from top to bottom and round
to the ends and back again? Have you even
contacted the bridge to let T'Pol know what's
happened?"

There was dead silence for a moment on the line as
Trip blushed shame faced, his own temper beginning
to rise.

"Mal, I'm not incompetent you know. You don't need
to talk down to me like I'm a complete idiot. Yes,
I've gotten the locals involved in the search.
We've been looking for twenty-four hours straight.
Which is why I am now calling you for help. I
can't tell T'Pol I lost the Captain. It's too
embarrassing. Just scan the planet and save your
lectures for later. Alright?" It was more a
statement and command rather than a request.

Malcolm scowled darkly. "Yes, Sir," he growled,
then snapped the com closed. Hayes and the rest of
security watched him walk quickly out of his
office in the armory, opening a new channel to the
bridge. "Sub-Commander, it appears we will have
need of the scanners."

T'Pol tilted her head at an angle and with a nod
busily went to work at her computer station. "May
I deduce the reason being that Commander Tucker or
the Captain may be in trouble?"

"Yes, I believe that would be correct,
Sub-Commander. The Captain is missing."

"Scan is in progress, estimated time to finish two
hours thirty minutes and twenty seconds."

"Thank you, Sub-Commander."

"We will find the Captain, Lieutenant," she said
with all her logic and confidence to back her up.

Malcolm smiled grimly. "Yes, yes, we will."

---

A few hours later, Trip was again back on board
Enterprise. He was looked sheepish and worried all
at the same time.

"Have the scans located him or not?" he demanded,
worried for his missing friend.

"Welcome back on board, Commander," said Malcolm,
calm cold Security officer in control. More Vulcan
than human when Malcolm was like this.

Trip sighed. He had known he wouldn't exactly be
in Malcolm's good graces, but he had hoped cold
formality would not be the thing Malcolm would use
to chastise him with.

"So far, our scans show nothing. This has us all
very concerned. You will have to tell us exactly
what happened down there, Commander. And don't leave
any detail out," insisted Reed.

---

In the Captain's conference room they gathered,
Reed, Tucker, T'Pol, Hoshi, Hayes, and Mayweather.
Tucker took a calming breathe, and then exhaled and
took a sip of his water.

"All right. We went down to the planet. We went to
look first for information on the Xindi, but after
a while, as you all are aware, the Captain decided
perhaps a little rest and relaxation might
recharge the vigor for the search. So we were
relaxing and then John, the Captain, he met
someone and they hit it off real swell and, before
long, she had her hooks into him.

Then she and he went to this couples' counseling
place, some retreat or other. You know, the
touchy-feely new age, get-in-touch with your
emotions and build a better, stronger,
relationship kind of thing. You know what I mean?"

No one expected the can of worms that statement
opened up for them all in regards to Malcolm Reed.
It was a real eye-opener for them all.

Malcolm's eyes turned horrified. "No," he gasped.
"Not one of those bloody places. They're a menace!
They're brainwashing machines," he hissed and
shuddered. "I would never have believed other
civilizations would have come up with such
places."

"Oh come on," said Hoshi. "They're not that bad.
My friend went to one of those places and she and
her fiancé benefited from it. They're more
understanding and loving of one another and will
be getting married any day now."

"Oh good for them," was Reed's acidic remark.
"Those places are cults. They brain wash you, take
advantage of you, and then they reprogram you into
a sissy. I wouldn't be caught dead in one of those
places," he said, nose twitching into a wrinkle of
extreme dislike and disdain. "I'd rather be
trussed up in nothing but my skivvies and forced
to crawl over fire and hot coals or flayed alive for
hours on end rather then wind up in one of those
places. I tell you. Get in touch with my emotions,
hah!" he scoffed.

"Sounds like you've visited one of those places
before, eh?" asked Tucker rather nervously.
Malcolm's eyes narrowed. He had caught the look in
Tucker's eyes and the convulsive little swallow in
his throat. The look of a guilty man.

But guilty of what?

What had the Commander concocted this time? What
troubles was he about to drag Malcolm Reed into?

"Yes, I have, with an ex of mine, Janelle or was it
Janice? No, no, no, it was... Oh yes, now I remember.
She was blonde and I liked her. It was Natalie or
was it Natasha? Oh bloody hell. Well you know, yes
I went to one of those things. The guy running the
place was bloody out of his mind. Smell the
flowers, he said. I did and you know what happened?

"Allergy shock.

"I was allergic to the bloody flowers and the
bloody candle scents. I was in Hell. I was almost
done in by the experience and she off and left me
in a sick bed and ran off with that crazy bugger.

"She said I wasn't open minded enough. She said I
didn't care enough for the relationship. She said
I was a selfish, cold fish, with a wall so thick
no one and nothing, not even sunlight, could break
through," he hissed, outraged. "Oh yes, I have
experience alright. They're all a bunch of whack
jobs out to brain wash us with their namby-pamby,
nancy-ninny, sissy, emotional displays. I'm a
bloody Reed and bloody proud of it and I'm British
on top of that, several generations of loyal navy
men and women. Emotions, I've got them but I don't
cry and whine like what they wanted about it.
Those places are a menace."

Every eye was focused on Reed.

Reed blinked, turned red in the cheeks, then looked
down. "Sorry. I didn't mean to go on like that. It
was truly a horrible experience. As I was saying
before the unexpected diatribe and quite lost my
subject, why do you ask, Commander? And something
in your eyes tells me that it's something I'm not
going to like."

"Well, Malcolm, it's just they also have classes
for uh... Well uh...  friends. And I was thinking,
since I lost John at that place that you know, you
and I should go there, under cover and investigate
the place. So I took the liberty of signing us up
for a course. It translates into a week's stay. I
signed us up under the classes entitled
"Relationship Friendship: The building that
crumbles or the foundation that's solid," "Anger
Management: The fire that destroys or the fire
that warms" and last but not least "Hurt: The
knife with two edges and how to heal and let that
wound go."

Reed blinked, gaped, blinked again. He was
speechless.

Tucker then dropped the next part of the bomb as
it were. "I thought these were courses for the
friendship stuff, but actually uh... Well, uh... The
director only had an opening for a couple... so uh
through some uh misunderstandings and some uh... 
language barriers... Well, uh... Hey how does the
name 'Reed-Tucker' sound to you? Or we could call
ourselves 'Tucker-Reed' or uh...  Malcolm, are you
alright? That's not a good color for you."

Hoshi began to giggle, Hayes looked morbidly
fascinated, and Mayweather had to bite down hard
not to join Hoshi in some snickers and giggles of
his own. T'Pol was the only one unmoved.

"Now, see here, Commander," Reed protested, but
couldn't quite come up with an argument. The
Captain disappeared at the Spa so it was to the
Spa they had to go and, if it was the only way, then
it was the only way.

Discouraged, Reed sighed. "Very well. I can see 
reason. But how are we to pass as a wedded couple
in trouble?"

"Just be yourselves," suggested Mayweather.

Hayes gave them both a skeptical look and then
nodded in agreement with Mayweather. "Yes, I can
see it. You both squabble and act like an old
married couple most of the time anyway. I don't
see that it will be very hard to pull this off.
Just polish your stories a little and be a little
more... Er uh... (How to put this delicately?)
touchy-feely, I guess," he finished lamely.

Reed's eyes turned positively to ice. Tucker put a
hand out and rested it on Reed's. "Well, Dar'lin,"
said the southerner with a particularly startling
cozy drawl to his voice that almost made the
butterflies take up life in Reed's stomach.

Ice cold eyes defrosted as they looked down at the
hand on his hand and into the warm blue of a
southern sky. "I think, the Major here has a
point," said Tucker with a winsome grin.

Reed rolled his eyes and quickly yanked his hand
away from Tucker's. He was losing ground fast to
unsettling, unexplored emotions, and he didn't
like it. "I'm British," he argued stiffly.

"So?" enquired Tucker.

"Okay, you have a point. It's not that I'm British,
it's that I am a Reed. We are not very ... 
affectionate people."

"Well," grinned Tucker warmly, "Then we better
practice, eh Dar'lin?"

Again with the endearment that made his ears grow
warm; he fought the feeling hard. Reed's eyes
narrowed, but he fought his defensiveness and
instead decided to go with humor. "All right,
Honey-Bun," he smirked as Tucker's jaw dropped.

"You wouldn't," protested Tucker. "That's a
terrible endearment."

"All right, how about Honey Bunny?"

Southern warm blue eyes turned fierce with
distinct dislike.

"Snookums?"

Eyes narrowed with further irritation. If Tucker
had been a cat, Reed was sure that by now his ears
would be lying flat on his head in pure dislike.

"Sweet'ems?"

A tilt of Tucker's head in consideration.

"Dearheart?"

Further consideration.

"Lover?"

"Isn't that just a little too flagrant?" asked
Tucker, cheeks finally blushing.

"Well what do you expect? Not even my Father ever
called my Mother anything other then Mary at the
best of times. Oh, wait. I do recall one time... A
special occasion or something. He called her
Mary-Luv. How about I call you Charlie-luv? How
does that sound? That's a good endearment. Charles
Darling sounds good too... Hmmn... Have to consider
some more words."

Trip let his head drop to the table. "I have no
one but myself to blame for this," he muttered.

Malcolm smiled. Well, smirked actually. He knew how
to push buttons. That's what made him a good
security officer and good at interrogation. Push
enough and people crack. But really, Trip deserved
it. How were they supposed to carry this off? What
was he thinking?

He supposed since it was the only way to find the
Captain they would just have to manage somehow.
Hoshi had a point though. They were supposed to be
a couple of lovers or married folk on the outs in
their marriage. Trip and he argued and fought all
the time. It wouldn't be too hard, he supposed,
pretending to be married to the man and having
troubles in the marriage.

"I take left side," he suddenly said.

"Left side of what?" asked Trip, puzzled.

"The bed," he replied smartly. "We're going to
have to be sharing unless of course I kick you to
the couch." The smirk just got worse.

Trip scowled. "You're really perverse, ya know
that? I think you're enjoying this way too much,"
he grumbled.

"Oh luv," said Malcolm, getting into character.
"You're such a kidder."

"Enjoy it while you can, Dar'lin, because once this
mission's over so is our marriage."

"Oh, how crushing," said Malcolm with dry humor, a
hand thrown over his heart. "You cad you. What was
it? My crisp bed corners or the dusting?"

"No, it was the organization of m'filing cabinet."
Now Trip smiled. Biting back on his laughter.

"Ouch," laughed Malcolm. "Caught red-handed. All
right, enough play. I'll see you at the launch bay
once we have our recording devices set and our
bags packed."

"Right, there's also a gift shop below we can shop
there and pick up some more props and enough
clothes for a month's stay."

"Wh-what?" asked Reed, stunned anew. At this rate
he was bound to get whiplash if Tucker had any
more surprises in store for him. "A month? What
happened to the week? That's ridiculous. We should
only be there as long as it takes to find the
Captain. It should, hopefully, only take about a
week at the outset, max."

"Mal, we're posing as a couple in marital trouble.
We're signed up for the full package. Which means
a month minimum," explained Tucker.

"Oh bloody hell," he muttered darkly. "Kill me
now," he sulked.

Trip shrugged. What could he do? It was a signed
deal. A contract was a contract after all and the
money had already been spent up front. A month was
a long time, but well worth it if it got their
friendship back on track and if they found Johnny.

---

Hayes helped Reed prepare the surveillance
equipment and implant the listening devices and
microscopic cameras into a button on each shirt or
item of clothing available. Once the bags were
packed, the security teams did a last bit of
business and meeting.

"I leave this ship in your capable hands, Major,"
said Reed formally, once more back in officer mode.

Major Hayes saluted and replied, "Yes, sir. Thank
you, sir. We'll keep a close eye on you guys down
there."

"Yeah, but not too close I hope," Reed said, ears
starting to burn a little. He didn't much care to
be on the camera when it was recording. But he
knew how important this mission was. If the
captain could disappear, then so could he or Mr.
Tucker and a recording device could easily locate
them or at least give enough information for the
crew to locate either one of them if things went
south.

It was so very disconcerting to have to have his
personal life recorded on camera during the mean
time. Recording the sessions with the cult people
could help them locate the captain or at least
figure out who the culprit was. He was
uncomfortable with how close and personal
everything would soon be. He didn't like the idea
that his crew was about to witness some very
intimate very personal stuff about himself and
Mister Tucker. Stuff he wasn't sure he wanted
anyone to know least of all his best friend. Those
kinds of feelings had no place on board a ship
going to war.

He resented Mr Tucker and yet wanted to help him
all at the same time. Tucker had pushed him away
when he had offered him friendship and support and
now this elaborate set-up was going to open up
that particular vault all over again and maybe
this time let Mr Tucker and the rest of the crew
in to some deeply personal places inside of Reed
that he didn't want anyone knowing about. Like a
river his feelings for Mr Tucker ran deep, deeper
than he liked to think about.

Malcolm was dressed in a nice sleek off duty
outfit, black and navy, two of his favorite colors
that let him hide in the shadows and out of the
eye of enemies and civilians alike. Tucker of
course was in one of his very loud Hawaiian shirts
and white slacks, in other words an eye sore and
an inducer of a migraine. Malcolm sighed and put
on his shades maybe the dark lenses would protect
him from the sight, but from the ache behind his
eyes he figured it was too late.

"Did you have to wear that outfit?"

Tucker pouted. "It's my lucky shirt."

"If my memory serves those parrots didn't save you
or me from a rather humiliating ordeal on Risa."

"No, but it did help us become better friends."
Tucker replied with his usual open grin.

Malcolm rolled his eyes.

Hoshi grinned. "You guys are perfect, just keep
that up and no one will suspect what you're really
up to."

Both men glowered at her. Huffy, they both then
with a sniff walked onto the platform and out of
sight, disappearing into the shuttle pod. Everyone
wished them good luck then set about making
themselves useful on board enterprise surveying
the happenings of the world below them.

---

Malcolm didn't like the way the director glomped
onto him and from Trip's glare he didn't
appreciate the man's mauling of his friend any
better than Malcolm liked being mauled.

"You're so closed-off and tense." Said the
Director, his hands rubbing Malcolm's forearm in a
very uncomfortable, very intimate, way.

Sympathy dripped from his words. But Malcolm
didn't feel like he was being sympathized with. He
felt like he was being sized up for something
distasteful. He tried to yank his arm out from
under the director's touch but like an octopus the
director held on.

"I don't like to be touched." Reed interrupted
rudely. All of his instincts were warning him to
get away from the director.

The director didn't bother acknowledging that he
had spoken.

"We should get you into the crystal baths
immediately and get your auras harmonized. Maybe a
little jaunt through the steam caves and then off
to a restorative bit of bed rest to get that
tension out of your body. Such tension can turn to
a toxic level making your physical and emotional
health at risk. My guess is you're the worry wart
out of the two of you, am I right?"

The director oozed schmooze and tried to make a
joke with Malcolm that made Malcolm want to leave
the Spa and the director and their mission far
behind him. Malcolm didn't know what it was
exactly about the man that was getting on his
nerves so quickly. He'd dealt with worse
propositions in his bar hopping days back when he
was a youth.

When the director turned his attentions back to
Tucker Malcolm felt a sense of relief that was
short lived as the man's hand found another part
of his arm to hold on to. He couldn't get a word
in to say, "Unhand me, now."

"Ah Charles, you seem quite at ease, your aura's
fairly clean but I see some toxic build up. A
death in the family perhaps? Poor dear, that kind
of pain isn't good to hold on to. We even turn
that kind of pain onto others. Poor Malcolm what
he must have been feeling every time you turned
that pain onto him?

"You will learn here to let that go as well as to
build an even stronger, more compassionate, more
supportive relationship with your spouse."

Tucker was startled and felt a trickle of unease
crawl up his spine. What had that remark been
about? Turned on to Malcolm? Had the Director been
insinuating that he, Trip Tucker, had been abusing
Malcolm? Or had it been something more like a
general: you've been in pain and it hurts your
friends to see you in this way, kind of statement?
Yet he got the feeling the director didn't like
him much and liked Malcolm just a little too much.

He quickly threw an arm around Malcolm's waist and
gave Malcolm a quick kiss on the temple. "You're
right. I've been neglectful of Mal lately, too
wrapped up into my own pain. I didn't know how
much I was hurting my Darl'n until just recently.
That's when we decided to take up one of your
courses here." He turned his attentions back onto
Malcolm asking. "Right Darl'n?"

Malcolm squirmed as the stranger kept rubbing his
hands all over him, he was finally able to get out
of the tentacle like reach by melting into Trip's
side and latch on to his friend like a life
support buoy. Trip's arm around his waist and
possessive glare also helped deflect the
director's attentive hands.

"Yes, quite right Charles my love." he replied
still a little unnerved by the director and
grateful for any relief Trip was giving him.
"We're here to work out our problems and to make
our relationship strong again."

He didn't know what had possessed him to use that
terminology but he knew it was something of a
point he was making to the director. "I'm in love.
I'm with Charles and we plan to be together for
the long haul." He'd seen women use this with
their rivals. They would put a hand on their
husband or boyfriend's arm and use possessive
terms like: "mine" and "we" and "our" showing a
strong front to the potential and steering the
predator female away from their man.

Hoshi blinked at her screen as did Hayes. Malcolm
Reed was acting odd. Hoshi never thought she'd see
the day Malcolm Reed latched on to another person,
let alone his friend and sometimes conflict
inducing yelling match pal, in a way that could be
clearly read as fear.

Malcolm Reed was afraid of the man in front of
them, not because the man was particularly scary
but because the man was trying his damned hardest
to touch Malcolm Reed. Reed was very unsettled by
it and unsettled by the alien's unceasing
attentions. As a linguist body language was one of
her languages and she could read the alien's
intent or rather discern one of two meanings for
his body's language. One could read perhaps an
intent for intimacy which Malcolm Reed was fending
off. Or it could be read as something other then
that, dominance?

Even Tucker was clearly reading the signs and
trying to protect his friend from the amorous
attentions.

She would have laughed if it hadn't been for
Reed's fear. She had seen him cautious but never
afraid. He hadn't been afraid when those weird
half machine half men had tried to assimilate the
crew. He hadn't been afraid when they were about
to die on that Klingon vessel when he had the flu.
Fear was alien to Reed or so she had always
believed but now she wondered.

---
LATER: Next Day
---

Malcolm didn't know how the man had talked him
into this. He was half unclothed and about to get
a massage. Most of what the man was saying went in
one ear and out the other but the minute the man's
hands were on his skin Malcolm knew he couldn't go
through with it.

He kept feeling some sort of crawley sensation,
pin pricks running up and down his arms, every
time the man touched him. Sensations of trapped
and invasion kept popping up. He had never been
particularly claustrophobic but every time he was
in the same space as this guy he felt it, badly.

"This will relax you and break down some of those
barriers you have about you." said Trey'van in
that soothing tone that just irritated Malcolm all
the more. It felt like the man was talking down to
him rather then talking to him as one man to
another.

Trey'van blinked as he watched Malcolm scurry very
quickly into his clothes and add another layer in
the form of a blanket. His eyes were narrowed and
suspicious; the barriers were up and powered at
one hundred and fifty percent.

"I'd prefer it if it were my Charles giving me
such an intimate procedure." insisted Malcolm,
stubbornly. Burrowing deeper into the blanket. He
wished he'd had more clothes to wear.

Trey'van calmly folded one of the towels and sat
in a chair across from Malcolm. He gave Malcolm a
look that could almost be called compassionate but
something in it rang false with Malcolm, or
perhaps it was just the difference in facial
structure.

"I understand that you have some reservations as
well as some trust issues, my dear Malcolm. May I
call you Malcolm?"

"No," Malcolm snapped cattily. "My name is Mr.
Tucker-Reed to you, and I would appreciate it if
you remembered that."

Trey'van's hand was on his arm, a gentle squeeze
supposedly the alien was trying to comfort him but
Malcolm flinched away from his touch. No matter
how nice the voice seemed or the body language
there was just something about Trey'van that set
off alarms with Malcolm. Trey'van's manner seemed
caring yet at the same time patronizing. For a man
who was supposed to be good at his job and help
couples in trouble he didn't seem to listen very
well. He seemed to have selective hearing.

As he spent more and more time in Trey'van's
company Malcolm suspected Trey'van of being a man
who would do something for your own good without
consulting you first.

He managed to slip his arm free from Trey'van's
grasp and requested. "Please don't touch me." He
said it firm with little hope that Trey'van would
do as he requested.

The alien sighed. "I understand that you do not
trust easily. I hear what you are saying Mr.
Tucker-Reed. What terrible things you must have
endured and survived to be so...  so...  hurt.

Trey'van's face wasn't easy to read but Malcolm
suspected Trey'van had put on his sympathy face to
try and sooth Malcolm's unease. Malcolm didn't buy
it.

"You are a man with a wound," insisted Trey'van
clucking, "A wound that I can see bleeding, its
bleeding you dry and slowly killing you. I can
help you to heal if you only trust me. No one here
is out to harm you in any way. We only want to
help you and your spouse to heal."

Malcolm firmly stated, implacable. "I'm not
getting undressed."

"Please Mr. Tucker-Reed, this massage will help
you. I can direct your inner energies, suffuse you
in healing warmth while breaking down the evil
toxins that have built up under your skin and is
draining the good energies from you. This is the
first step to your healing. By lowering your
inhibitions and trusting me with your secret self,
I can help you."

"No one sees me naked or my inner self except for
my husband. I am a loyal, married man, in a deeply
committed relationship with my mate and I am not
getting undressed so that some man can put his
hands on my skin," argued Malcolm mulishly. Eyes
blazing. He would not be moved. He didn't like
this spa and he didn't like Trey'van.

Somehow the octopus hands were back on his flesh,
touching his hands, making him feel strange, like
something was trying to push its way into his
skin, under his skin and into his mind. He felt
fuzzy, woozy, yet he held firm to his resolve. He
fought the invasive thing yet he felt very
unsettled, like he was falling, losing ground,
drowning.

"I hear you. I hear your pain. I hear your
suspicions. I hear you, Malcolm." The man's eyes
locked onto Malcolm's and something in the gaze
was like that of a cobra and its prey, deceptively
lolling. Malcolm fought the weird feelings
intruding into his mind and yet he lost track of
time. When he came to he was unable to quite get
his bearings. He didn't know what had happened. He
felt on edge.

Malcolm growled, fighting the left over intrusive
fuzzy feeling in his head. It was a fight of wills
and Malcolm intended to win "Mr. Tucker-Reed, to
you."

Trey'van stared into Malcolm's eyes, hands tightly
folded over Malcolm's own. "I am going to let this
session go, but we will try again tomorrow."

The dizziness was leaving Malcolm, the push thing
was slowly ebbing away, but it still left Malcolm
feeling edgy, feeling strange, he felt befuddled
and almost, he dared almost say, violated.

"Remember Malcolm, this is the first step in the
process of your healing. I want to help you, if
you let me." With his peace spoken Trey'van let go
of Malcolm's hands and did his weird version of an
intricate bow, of hands weaving about and head
lowered to chest while backing out of the room.

Anxiety led to Malcolm being on the defensive.
Malcolm glared then scrambled out of the massage
room and headed directly to his and Trip's
bedroom. He didn't like feeling this way. This
place wasn't right. That Director and his stooges
weren't right. There was just something not
"right" about this place and if he could find the
words to describe what it was that was so wrong
with it all he'd have told Trip and found a better
way of convincing him to let the mission go, let
the locals find the captain and let the two of
them get quickly out of dodge.

---

Hoshi was concerned as she watched Malcolm on
screen, looking terribly affronted and quickly
packing his clothes. Tucker came into the room
looking thoroughly refreshed and massaged. Malcolm
leveled a laser-like glare on his friend. Trip
noticing what Malcolm was in the process of
packing gaped.

"Malcolm, what the heck are you doing?"

"Packing." one word snapped out.

"Yeah, I can see that. But why?"

"Because I am not a hedonist." He hissed. "And I
don't care to get naked and have some tosser put
his filthy hands all over me; unlike some I could
mention." another pointed glare at Tucker who
began to sputter with indignation.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Demanded Trip.

"You know exactly what it means." said Reed,
delivering the perfect verbal cut.

Trip sputtered again, his mind froze. He tried to
argue the point. It wasn't as if he'd done
anything sexual with anyone. He didn't know where
any of this was coming from. It almost sounded
like Malcolm was jealous and accusing him of
cheating on him. He'd done no such thing. He'd
been a complete gentleman. He didn't know why his
friend would accuse him of such a thing.

Sure he'd had the massage and sure he'd allowed
them to cater to his every whim, beverages, sand
baths, exquisite food to make even Chef cry in his
French sauces. The steam caves and crystal baths
had also been a real treat. Malcolm was missing
out because of his negative attitude and whose
fault was that anyway?

Surely not Trip's.

Despite the seriousness of the situation and her
concern Hoshi laughed at the way the two were
behaving it was almost a comedy scene between two
married people on a TV screen. One jealous of the
other and the way people were behaving towards
him. The other one naïve and oblivious to the
things going on right under his nose.

As they fought like two tom cats, each with their
hair stiff and claws extended to draw blood. Trip
finally calmed down enough to make a valid point
and one that was guaranteed to make Reed see
reason.

"Hey, what about the Captain? What about our
mission?" Tucker demanded.

This stopped Reed dead in his tracks for a moment
making him switch gears once more he then returned
to packing their suitcase. As he explained "The
captain will show up on his own. My job does not
include my prostitution of my body. I'm getting
the hell out of this place before that wanker
tries to get me undressed again."

"Malcolm, don't you think you're overreacting a
little?"

"No, no, I don't. I know these people Trip. This
is all some kind of sham and I will have nothing
more to do with it. He plays a good game, very
convincing, says he hears me but he doesn't." Reed
insisted as he folded and smoothed down one of
Trip's shirts. "I don't like that man. His hands
on my skin give me the creeps."

Reed was surprised to hear himself being so honest
and upfront with his feelings. Actually finding
words to express the true unsettling emotions he
was feeling was an amazing and thrilling
experience, quite like jumping off a cliff and
hoping the landing wouldn't end up in death.

"You want to end the mission and leave the Captain
to his own devices to survive because you're
afraid of your virtue being spoilt?" asked the
incredulous commander, yanking his shirt back from
Malcolm's folding busy hands.

"Y-no!" Cried Malcolm indignant, defensive.
Yanking the shirt back and refolding it with a
critical frown. How did Trip expect his shirts to
stay unwrinkled with the way he treated them?

"That's not why." explained Reed, taking a pair of
boxers next into his hands and folding them into
the luggage. He gave the boxers a frown as he saw
little cartoons parading about in the image of
hearts and betty-boop.

Good lord! Those were tacky. Did Trip not own a
single un-tacky pair of clothes or under garments
in his possessions? Maybe he could get away with
tossing them out an air lock once they were back
on Enterprise?

Trip seemed to read his mind as he yanked his
boxers out of the suitcase and protectively tucked
them under his folded arms. Giving Malcolm his
best don't mess with my stuff glare.

Malcolm raised an eyebrow then shrugged, they were
Trip's under garments he could do with them as he
willed, who was he to judge. So they were tacky,
and maybe, just maybe, a little bit cute. And they
were Trip's after all so he really didn't have any
rights to toss them out the nearest window or
airlock.

"I know their tricks, Trip." Reed explained
calmly, getting his emotions back under control.
"I'm not falling for it again. They're tricky
bastards who know what to say and what to do to
make you trust them. And then as you sign away
your life and all of your possessions to them you
end up jumping off some cliff somewhere or worse
yet; you happily chase after them going from one
scam to the next, a devoted, brainwashed happy
little toy."

"Malcolm, can we please get back to the point
here. We need to do this, for the Captain and for
the mission." Seeing that he was talking to a
stone wall Trip exploded, exasperated. "And
because, goddammit, I already spent the money on
this retreat for us!"

Reed looked wounded for a minute then stubbornly
went back to packing both their bags.

"Can't you please be reasonable Mal? Don't you
want to build a better relationship between us?
Don't you want to save the Captain?

Seeing he was still getting no where with Reed he
entreated, desperately. "You don't have to and
it's not expected of you, as you say, prostitute
yourself to save the Captain, Malcolm. No one
expects you to do anything you don't want to do.
Wear your clothes if you want to. This place is
supposed to help you lower your guard not jack it
up to one trillion times the usual guardedness you
display towards people and your feelings. Insist
that you would feel more comfortable fully
dressed. This place is about sensitivity Mal, I'm
sure you'll be fine."

"You're not listening Commander."

"Trip." hissed Trip.

"Trip, you are not listening to me. That Trey'van
guy is a creep. He wont listen to a word I say.
And things get weird Trip. I've only had two
sessions with the guy and I already feel worse. I
don't think this place is going to help us. A guy
like that only hears what he wants to hear." Reed
insisted helplessly. In the end he knew the
decision was Trip's, if he couldn't convince Trip;
well then he'd do what had to be done for the
mission, for Trip. Because Trip commanded him and
he'd do anything for Trip.

Anything.

Trip's hands went to his shoulders and warm blue
eyes gazed deeply into his own, eyes torn with
compassion and understanding but also
determination. Malcolm knew he had no choice. He
was being foolish. He needed to get control of his
out of control emotions.

"The Captain needs us to find him, Mal. You know
that."

He was acting cowardly and he knew it. Malcolm
sighed, head hung down in shame. He felt guilt
riddled. How could he even think of abandoning the
Captain and the mission? This was terribly unlike
himself.

"Fine, fine, I'll ...  I'll do it."

"Thanks Mal, you won't regret it, I promise you."

"I already regret it." he muttered under his
breath while refolding and rearranging their
clothes back into the closet and shelves. He
couldn't help feeling slightly betrayed as well.

He thought if he told Trip what he felt Trip would
get it and agree with him and then they could
leave this strange place. Trip seemed to
understand to some degree but not completely. Trip
didn't know what he was asking, the sacrifice he
was demanding of him. How could Trip fully
understand when not even Malcolm fully realized
the extent of what was happening to him.

He went into the bathroom and tried to scrub the
sensation of alien hands off of his skin. He tried
to keep the sensation of Trip on him longer.
Trip's strong grip, warm so warm.

Trip could make dinner tonight Malcolm felt too
tired to care.

---

Malcolm tried to avoid Trey'van and his many
assistants throughout their stay in the community
but the blasted alien always found him, always put
his hands on him, always something weird pushing
gently into his mind; words and visions, memories
dancing far out of reach and sliding back into
place, memories that were his own made on
experiences he remembered and yet somehow not the
same memories. They were not the right memories.
Parallel memories, false memories planted in his
head and yet they couldn't be, it was not
possible.

Malcolm paced his rooms, decked out in a loose
fitting silk pants and one of Trip's t-shirts.
Malcolm felt confused. He needed the comfort of
his husband's shirt since Trip was at one of those
one on one counseling sessions with Trey'van. He
shuttered and hugged his arms close to his chest.
He hated those kinds of sessions. He forced the
memories of his own sessions out.

Starting with breathing exercises and forcing his
body to relax, he started his tai-chi then moved
onto an hour of yoga then to contemplation. He
looked at the small picture frame on the night
stand next to their bed and saw clearly a picture
of him and Trip happy, in some green field on some
planet somewhere. The sky was purple, the day moon
was blue. He remembered the mission yet he also
remembered it being his and Trip's anniversary. He
frowned this wasn't right. How could he have two
memories?

In one set of memories he and Trip were a married
couple and had been so for nearly ten years,
meeting at the academy working together on the
warp five project, family get-togethers, a
beautiful marriage ceremony in which Captain
Archer had presided over, a huge hu-bla between
Admiral Reed and himself. Malcolm was cast out of
the family for choosing to marry his male partner
and choosing a career not of the Navy. That had
been a very painful ordeal.

In the other memories, his truer memories, why
they were truer he didn't know, just a feeling
really, yet at the same time the memories didn't
feel right, just like the other memories had felt
true but not as true, they felt right and wrong,
the same as his truer memories did. All of his
memories felt both right and wrong.

Memories that showed Enterprise and his first
meeting with Commander Tucker as something that
occurs on his first day of duty. Their fights over
the power grids. Their ordeal on Risa and in the
jinxed shuttle pod. Memories of friendship not of
marriage, wonderful happy memories that felt
perfect but off somehow. He wanted to cry he was
so confused and his head hurt.

Were they married or weren't they? Was Trip his
husband or not? Were they just friends? Why was
everything turning out to be so damned confusing?

Bloody migraines. He cursed finished up his
meditations then lay down in the bed with a cloth
over his eyes and a hypo-spray in his hands,
migraine meds should kick in shortly and then he'd
feel better soon.

He hoped.

Hoshi watched Malcolm in his and Trip's room.
Watched him move from one routine into another.
Watched him move with grace and powerful
movements, slow than fast, moving from tai-chi to
other forms of martial arts till finally settling
into long stretches and poses that were identified
as Yoga. His body was beautiful. But she could
read in the language that it spoke that he was
deeply troubled by something and afraid of it.

But what was it that he was worried and afraid of?
Had he found some clue to the Captain's
disappearance that he had yet to make a report on?
Or was it something more personal, more private
than that?

She knew the seminars were getting to both of her
fellow officers equally. It seemed to be helping
one of them more than the other, or possibly
breaking Malcolm down was supposed to help him in
the long run. Hoshi had her doubts.

Major Hayes frowned he too was concerned by Reed's
progressively getting worse abstract behaviors.
Sometimes it seemed Reed was losing his mind or
turning into a flake, which Hayes knew for a fact
that Reed wasn't if there was one man on board
this ship that one could never call a flake it was
Reed. The man ate and breathed procedures,
routines, and control. His confidence wasn't
something shaken lightly. Yet as more and more
time passed with the two superior officers on the
planet below at the Couples' Spa he could see
there was something strange going on. Not just
between the two officers but between Reed and the
Director as well.

He hoped Reed would make a report soon and explain
what was happening to him and the commander.

---
A day later
---

It was strange coming out of one of those
blackouts he's been having lately. The droning of
Trey'van so intimately into his ear. The weight of
the man leaning against him. His skin crawled. The
hairs on the back of his neck stood stiffly at
attention as alarms came full on in his head.

"How he's hurt you. So much pain, so much pain.
The universe is so full of pain. I just want to
help you Malcolm, please let me help you."
Trey'van murmured into his ear, fingers stroked
Malcolm's face, his throat, stroking in gentle
patterns that were meant to soothe but only
agitated Malcolm more.

"First your Father, always you feel so much
disappointment from him from in yourself. You're
so empathetic, so strangely a tuned to others
emotions and well being. You feel a heavy bit of
responsibility for others on your shoulders. Do
you not?

"Then your mate, he loses his sister, he shut you
out, he abused your emotions, Malcolm. He shuts
you out, pushes you away, and yet he demands so
much of you and yet somehow even with him you feel
as if you're a failure.

"When did his love for you turn to so much sour
grapes?" asked Trey'van, sounding pitying. Malcolm
shuttered and tried not to cry. He was being
suffused in heavy emotions of pain and sadness,
that couldn't possibly be his own and yet somehow
he knew those emotions were his. Yes, he grieved
for Trip's sister and for Trip but Trip had never
abused him, never.

Alright so there had been that one huge fight and
that other time... . His thoughts trailed off as
images and scenes that had never happened came to
him unbidden, whispering of things he rather
wished he had left forgotten.

"When did it change? Did he ever love you at all?
Really love you at all? Did any of them. I see so
many women in your past and they have hurt you as
well.

"You give your trust so rarely and they have to
work very hard to get it from you but after
they've gotten it, gotten your heart, your loyalty
your trust what do they do with it? What have they
all done with it? They used it against you and
betrayed you. They used you and tossed you aside
and now you're terrified your mate will do the
same. I think you might be right.

"What loyalty has he ever shown you? Kaitama,
Ay'len, and nameless others, even some of the
female crew. They giver you looks of smug
satisfaction. How many women has he slept with
behind your back?

"They've had him to themselves, knowing full well
that he was yours and he knew he was yours and
still what did he do, my dear Malcolm? Your love
and loyalty to him is remarkable but wasted.

"He makes demands on you and he expects you to be
perfect for him doesn't he?"

Malcolm began to tremble it felt strange to have
tears flowing down his cheeks. He was a Reed he
knew better then to cry. Tears didn't get a body
anywhere in life, tears were nothing.

Trip; Trip you bastard, how could you do such
things to me? No, no this isn't right. Trip's not
mine. This is an assignment. We're not really
married. It's not real.

Yet he saw memories of the happiest day of his
life when Charles Trip Tucker the Third had put
his wedding band on his finger and pledged undying
love and faithful commitment to him. Each vow
broken over the years they'd been together.
Promises and more promises all of them broken,
their marriage was in shambles.

No. No this isn't right. He argued.

That's not me. He denied.

That's not Trip. He insisted.

That's not us!

He was shaking and he couldn't stop crying.

"Why live in denial?" demanded Trey'van jerking
Malcolm more tightly into his arms. "Why stay
married to a man who doesn't appreciate you?"
Asked the snake.

Malcolm jerked out of his hold and shook his head
over and over.

Why were there tears on his cheeks? He felt
crowded. It was hard to breathe. He began to shake
harder and Trey'van's arms were once more around
him. Trey'van's mouth on his lips, hands moving
down his body. Malcolm jerked out of his hold with
more force than previously. He was disgusted,
revolted by Trey'van presumptions. He was loyal.
He was a married man, and he loved Trip with all
of his heart and soul.

He Stumbled staggered away from the bushes and
trees that had hidden them from the view of the
complex. What insanity had overtaken him when he
trusted Trey'van and followed the scum into the
woods? Why did he feel so cold?

What time was it?

He looked down at his torn shirt and frowned. What
happened to his clothes? Why was he so dirty?

How much time had passed this time? Why did he
keep losing time? What was it that he was
forgetting?

He fretted, deeply worried and unable to voice why
he was so unsettled.

He was a security officer, a master at self
defense; no one could hurt him unless he wanted
them to.

Why couldn't he seem to protect himself from this
bloody Alien? Those creepy hands and those eyes.
Every time I look into his eyes. I feel dizzy. I
don't feel right. This doesn't feel right.

Why did he keep losing time? Why was it he never
felt clean anymore?

Images crowded his mind which he tried to deny. It
couldn't have happened that way. It couldn't. He
could protect himself. He wouldn't let anyone do
that to him unless he had wanted it.

"Trip." He sobbed, out of his depth and terrified.
He didn't remember why they had come to the spa in
the first place. He didn't want to lose Trip. He
never wanted Trip to know what he had done. "Trip,
Charles Charles, Trey'van tried to, he tried to"
He fell down in the dirt and scraped his knee yet
he stood up again and ran for their rooms. He
needed to get away from Trey'van. Trey'van had
tried to seduce or rape or something. His mind was
in a panic, it was getting so hard to think, his
brain didn't seem to be working right. He wasn't
thinking clearly. It was totally unlike him.

Trey'van was in his mind, he knew it with a
certainty yet he had never met a race like his, he
couldn't prove his mind had been invaded and his
memories arranged. "I belong to Charles. I'm loyal
even if Charles isn't. I'll forgive him. I love
him. I won't let him leave me. I'll strive for
perfection, anything to keep him with me.
Anything, oh god, oh god, oh god, don't let him
leave me. He mustn't find out. He mustn't find
out."

Stupid victim. Shut up! How do you plan to
convince him that you're okay if you can't stop
crying? He demanded of himself.

If Trey'van even had an inkling how badly his
plans at stealing Malcolm away from Trip Tucker
had blown up in his face; he didn't deign to
acknowledge it to himself or to his goons. As far
as he was concerned it was a matter of time before
he would have Malcolm to himself. A Malcolm broken
down and remodeled into the perfect mate for
himself. Obedient unquestioning and loyal, Malcolm
would be his. Under his control, under his power,
and Malcolm would love him. He just needed to work
a little harder on enforcing that objective. He
would need to make sure they were skin to skin
again. Delightful how lovely Malcolm's skin felt
and his hair.

He was so beautiful.

Beautiful when he was writhing under him,
iridescent in his passions.

Trey'van had never had an alien or a fellow
M'thra'an who had felt quite like Malcolm did in
his arms.

He felt that Malcolm was the right mate for him.
The perfect one he'd been searching all of his
life for. Easy to manipulate, easy to control,
empathic and without a single barrier to keep him
from being overrun by Trey'van's own needs and
control.

Malcolm was so perfect and Tucker didn't deserve
even to kiss the pads on Malcolm's feet. He
scowled. He really didn't like Tucker. That man
had a hold on the lovely Malcolm like none other
that he'd seen before. Usually two people so
different and ill suited for one another broke up
by the end of the first week. Yet the two were
constantly enthralled with one another and
constantly devoted to each other. They were both
fighting the signals Trey'van implanted in them.
He suspected Tucker was a rare breed of the immune
whereas Reed simply had a will that was astounding
to brush up against. It was too bad no one had
trained sweet Malcolm properly to use it to defend
against mind-controllers such as himself. His
lovely though was breaking and would in the end be
his or be dead, whichever came first.

---

Charles Trip Tucker the Third had never been so
relaxed, not even neural pressure sessions with
T'Pol had gotten him this far. Of course sleeping
with a warm cuddling while he sleeps bunny like
Malcolm seemed to be helping as well.

Of course the first time it had happened Trip had
woken up pleasantly enough, a warm body draped
across his own, arms wrapped nice and tight around
him, a mouth on his neck lightly snoring in his
ear, nose digging into his jaw and something hot
and gyrating going on at his hip, at first it was
okay, a little disturbing sure, but his brain
wasn't exactly on red alert yet, he simply sighed
and snuggled in closer to the body wrapped around
him. Of course that was alarm time for the person
on top of him, he heard a gasp, a struggle with
the sheets, cold morning air and curses that came
loudly in the quiet of the warm fuzzy moment of
the minute before. He opened his eyes to see
Malcolm had landed gracefully on his feet then as
he stepped back he bumped into the night stand,
bruising his hip and landing indignantly on the
floor below, entangled in the stolen sheets.
Carpet though the floor was, it still had a solid
foundation and wasn't exactly as comfortable as
landing on a pillow would have been and Reed's bum
hurt. Reed was a guy and he was in his jammies but
there was no hiding the morning sensations that
all guys suffered through. Poor Malcolm was so
embarrassed, he was red faced, well okay, pink
cheeked and ears burning bright, dark hair fanned
out over his eyes and he looked very sexy, if
somewhat horrified by what he had done in his
sleep and had been about to do to the person he'd
been plastered to a moment ago.

"Mal, its perfectly alright. There's nothing to
feel any shame for. You were asleep, your body had
a natural reaction. There's nothing to get all
horror filled over. Let the drama go and I'm going
back to sleep now. Well as soon as you return
those sheets to the bed that is." Trip had
insisted, sleepily and firmly and pleasantly.

"That's what you say now but you wait until you're
awake, I doubt very much you'd appreciate the fact
that I almost embarrassed the two of us in a
carnal act that you have never made intentions
that you ever felt that way towards me or towards
anyone else of the male variety."

"Malcolm, I'm too tired to care right now. Please
just get back in bed. I'm freezing my nuts off
here." he complained grumpily.

Malcolm scowled. "You and your comforts. I swear
you're worse then my father. He's a selfish
bastard to." he grumped threw the blankets back on
Tucker then stormed into the bathroom.

Trip pretended to ignore the insults, wrapped
himself in the warm blankets like a mummy in its
sarcophagus then went back to sleep or rather he
tried to go back to sleep he hadn't appreciated
being compared to Malcolm's Father. That was a
relationship with more than a few problems in it.
The man didn't send his son even a single post
card a year, not one letter for every six that
Trip knew for a fact Malcolm mailed every year.
Hoshi often waxed sad poetry over it, "His
mother's better, but she is a bit of a flake, and
her letters are odd ones. If I didn't know better
I'd say she was writing in code to her son." Odd
folks Malcolm had, very odd and very troubled.
Which in some ways explained Malcolm's paranoia
and unsocial behavior to no end.

Reed took a steaming hot bath and stayed for an
hour before coming out and facing the day like a
man. Trip of course had been cat napping.

"I think sharing the bed has been a mistake." said
Malcolm uncomfortably.

Trip sighed gave his complete attention over to
Malcolm then replied. "Malcolm, let it go. As far
as we know this place could be bugged. We need to
act as natural as possible. You're the security
officer here, Mal, why am I the one giving the
lecture here?" he'd asked his good mood quickly
turning sour. Couldn't a man get some bed rest?
He'd thought mulishly. But mostly he just wanted
Malcolm to let the nonsense go.

"Trip, I'm not comfortable with this. You're
right, we need to keep this as real as possible,
yet I just ...  this morning was... ."

"Malcolm, I told you to forget about it. It
happens. Didn't anyone tell you about the birds
and the bees and men's physical clock work?"

"How can you be so flippant?" hissed Malcolm
cheeks flaring pink again.

Malcolm was a good roommate and yeah, a cuddly bed
person. Warm and snuggly and warmer than T'Pol in
a good mood on a good day. And he was damned cute
when he blushed like that.

Why were he and T'Pol together again? Oh yeah,
neural pressure sessions and some animal magnetism
and human sentiment and the fact that Trip was a
gentleman and could do commitment. He didn't sleep
around when he was already sleeping with someone.

However when he stopped to think about it, Malcolm
was more of the type of person his own parents
would have welcomed into the family. Human, warm,
compassionate, sure he had his hissy fits and his
catty moods, and his cold Vulcan moods and,
mercurial was what Malcolm was and he was damned
sexy and the worst part of it all was that Malcolm
seemed oblivious of his self worth and
attractiveness. Malcolm was the epitome of the
ocean, warm and soothing one minute cold and hard
and stormy the next, a true son of Poseidon
himself.

"I'm sorry Mal. I don't mean to be embarrassing
you. I'm just saying, its no big deal. Besides, I
like having my very own cuddle bunny." he teased
outrageously.

Malcolm Reed took the pillow and beat him over the
head with it until Trip retaliated with his own
pillow and then they pillow fought until they were
both a relaxed heap of gigglers.

Trip felt undeniably the tugs of his heart
strings. He had to shut that off. There was a war
going on. Both he and Malcolm could be dead inside
of a year; if things go bad.

"Mal, are we good now?"

"Trip it really should be me asking that question,
but yes, I think we're good. I'll try not do that
again to you."

"No problem, Mal. Like I said it's a perfectly
natural body reaction, nothing to get all bent out
of shape over and I sure as hell aint going to
hold it against ya. I like being on the right."

"Good." said Malcolm, warm little smile on his
face. "Because I like the left side."

"Good." agreed Trip, feeling his heart pinch
painfully. Malcolm really was beautiful,
especially when he smiled like that.

The memory was a good one. And Malcolm was very
warm, very caring, even if he did have some
irritating procedures, routines that he never
seemed able to break himself of. Trip was more of
a carefree individual who cared very little in
what ways the bed was made or in what order the
morning meal should proceed. Yet he liked the
coziness of it. He liked seeing the domestic side
of Malcolm. It was a real eye opener.

Malcolm was a very domestic kind of guy; even if
he had to have things done in certain ways. Very
obsessive compulsive disorder of him. But it could
also be the years of training under his father and
mother. A family run with military or rather naval
precision. A lifetime of habits that he couldn't
or wouldn't break not even to make a cozy
situation even cozier.

Tucker sighed, slouched deeply into the little
groove in the cave he was currently wedged into
and let the steam bathe him in its warmth and
fragrance. The fragrance was that of lavender
fields, salt oceans, and rosewood. A strong smell
that was sweet yet not sickly so.

Trip liked to think of himself as self-reliant, as
an adult who can take care of himself, someone who
can stand on his own two feet and look after
himself. He didn't like that he couldn't seem to
get through his grief without so many helping
hands. Especially hands he'd bitten in his pain
and guilt filled days since his sister's death.
Guilt that he hadn't been there to protect Lizzie,
guilt that he couldn't gracefully accept the help
of others, that he had made Malcolm pay for his
pain on more times then he cared to count or even
recall. That Trey'van weasel had been right about
that now that he'd had some time to think on it.

He'd been real mean to Malcolm the last several
months and all Malcolm ever had tried to do was
help him. And what had Malcolm gotten for his
friendly troubles and trying to help his engineer
pal and superior officer? Nothing but pain and
bickering and a yelling match that had reached
over three decks. Nothing but hurt feelings for
all of his troubles with Trip. Trip was crushed by
the guilt he felt. He was determined to make
things better now though.

Some of those group sessions were so intense that
it seemed even Malcolm was feeling it. He knew
that Malcolm had some family problems of his own
and a suitcase or two of emotional baggage he'd
never unloaded. Trip really believed that this
place was starting to help the both of them. He
especially liked the one class; Relationship
Friendship: The Building that crumbles or the
Foundation that's solid. As an engineer he was
made for building things. Building relationships,
building engines and other things of science that
helped people in star fleet and on earth. He was a
builder but he had to admit that he was flawed at
nurturing the things he had built.

Prime example his friendship with Malcolm.

Those classes were having a good affect on both of
them. They'd even broken down a wall last week and
the both of them had actually shed a few tears
about the matter. They'd been told it was the
first step in a long process to healing. Malcolm
crying tears was heart wrenching and very
unsettling. He didn't like watching Malcolm cry.
It made him hurt and feel inadequate and stupid
because he didn't have the right words or know
what to say to his friend to help him. Especially
during that one session in Hurt: The Knife with
Two Edges and How to Heal and let that Wound Go.

He'd known a little bit of Malcolm's past after
that birthday party the captain had thrown and
John's unease with Malcolm's parents' inability to
tell them what things Malcolm liked to eat or do.
And Malcolm's dad had been a real piece of work.

"I was always a disappointment to him." Malcolm
admitted in the class. "I didn't turn out the way
he wanted me to. My family pretty much turned
their backs on me. All I have is the family I have
made for myself and one member of that family is
my Charles." Of course Malcolm had blushed and
looked shocked at his own admittance of something
so deeply personal and private to him. Trip
couldn't have felt more proud to have been there
to hear Malcolm and help Malcolm when he was given
the opportunity to do so. There was an exercise in
which they traded places and portrayed the other
in a hurtful situation, thereby being in the
other's foot steps helped them to understand what
the other was feeling and had been feeling at the
time of the blow out. He'd never realized just how
cruel he'd been to Malcolm and how much Malcolm
was still hurting underneath all of his
professionalism and stoicism.

He knew they would come out of these sessions a
stronger more supportive friendship. Of course
being forced to literally kiss and make up was one
hell of an interesting moment. Both of them had
shuffled their feet and coughed and did anything
and everything but make the first move to kiss the
other. Finally Malcolm had stiffened his backbone
and smiled a strange sort of communicative smile
that seemed to say "Come on, we're adults and
we're supposed to be in a loving relationship,
let's do this thing and do it right so we can move
on and find the Captain."

So they had kissed and in front of everyone.
Malcolm sure could kiss. He'd actually felt his
knees melt from under him, if not for Malcolm's
strong arms supporting him, though shaking those
arms might have been, he knew he would have fallen
in a heap on the floor embarrassing the both of
them in front of their captivated group audience.

Duty it might have been but something in that kiss
had felt entirely too real for comfort. It wasn't
that he didn't like or even love Malcolm god knows
once a person got past the cold exterior Malcolm
was worth knowing, worth being friends with, maybe
even more then being friends with, but they had a
mission. Earth was at War with the Xindi there was
good chance that none of them were going to come
back from their first and last confrontation with
the Alien race whose agenda was to genocide the
Milky way population.

He didn't want to fall in love with Malcolm only
to lose him on the battlefield. Or have Malcolm
fall in love with him and lose him in the
battlefield. He knew Malcolm wouldn't be able to
handle the loss. Malcolm was amazingly vulnerable
underneath the façade of self-confidence and duty
he gave off. Trip never wanted to see Malcolm
heart broken or grieving for a lost love.

Hearing Malcolm talk about his family. Hearing his
voice waver and seeing in his eyes the tears he
was trying not to shed for all the hurt his family
had caused him over the years; it did something to
Trip's stomach. It made him want to gather up his
friend into his arms and hold on to him, give him
comfort. It was what Malcolm had wanted to do for
him when Malcolm had heard about his loss, about
Lizzie's death and Trip had simply pushed him away
with cold fury and words aimed to hurt his friend.

He knew what buttons to push to make Malcolm back
off. After being trapped more then a few times and
having enforced sleepovers during those missions
where they had been trapped together under some
pretty embarrassing and under some pretty
astonishing circumstances he knew exactly what to
do to make Malcolm leave him alone.

So Malcolm had left him alone. Malcolm had crept
off somewhere to lick his wounds and bury himself
in his armory and in his weird fixation that Hayes
was trying to usurp and undermine his position as
Chief of Security. That Hayes was gunning for his
job.

Trip sighed again as the steam caves helped him to
relax. He hoped Malcolm was finding clues to
Captain Archer's whereabouts. Because as hard as
Trip searched he couldn't find anything, not a
single clue as to his best friend's whereabouts.
He worried about Archer yet he found more and more
that his mind was troubled over Malcolm. He wasn't
blind he knew what these sessions were doing to
Malcolm.

He seemed more of an emotional wreck lately then
he'd ever known Malcolm to ever be in over the
course of their association with one another. He
knew Malcolm was unsettled by the Spa and that
Trey'van person was part to blame but the other
part Trip was sure of was that while having to
endure the classes Malcolm was being forced to
come to terms with his own personal baggage;
something which the Lieutenant wasn't used to.

Emotions were volatile things and it seemed that
like a Vulcan, Malcolm had a hard time dealing
with his emotions, even acknowledging the ones
that were right there for anyone to see.

How had Malcolm survived so many years in pain? In
rejection and dejection? It was obvious that
Malcolm had given up hope a long time ago on
making things better between himself and his
folks.

Trip was himself a little unsettled by some of
what he saw in Malcolm's eyes of late. Malcolm
didn't seem like himself lately. Trip just hoped
Malcolm would recover and get back to normal soon.
He also hoped that in some small part that this
Spa was helping his friend as it was helping him.

Yet there was something unsettling about the
situation that was growing between Malcolm and
Trey'van, something Trip couldn't quite put his
finger on. Something that made him feel uneasy.
Like a sixth sense was tingling somewhere inside
of him warning him that darker things were coming.
Things he wasn't sure he was ready to face, let
alone things he might have to fight.

He wasn't emotionally equipped to deal with
anything huge right now. The more he thought on it
the more his feet itched to run. Yet he wasn't a
coward, alright so Malcolm had accused him one
time of being so and maybe some small little boy
part inside of him was rather cowardly but he was
ready and able to face danger if he needed to and
especially if it meant saving his friends and
family.

Emotionally equipped or not if Malcolm had need of
his help he'd help him. He just hoped Malcolm
would talk to him soon about it. Before his
bravery ran out. Seeing Malcolm falling apart like
he was it didn't feel right to Trip. Something was
going on and he wasn't sure if he knew how to fix
it make it right again.

---

Archer, where was Archer? All of his searching all
of the time spent between sessions and eating
sleeping and losing time with Trey'van, Malcolm
hadn't been able to put his full attentions to the
search for his husband's best friend and he felt
extremely upset over the matter. He scrubbed the
kitchen area in their rooms.

Decked out in an apron and rubber gloves Malcolm
was down to business with cleaning the place
within an inch of its life. He thought that if he
scrubbed and cleaned his surroundings maybe he'd
feel better since it seemed that no matter how
much he scrubbed his body he couldn't feel in
control or clean of any sort that maybe, and it
was a small hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd feel
better.

He scrubbed and cleaned and dusted. He did
laundry, folding and refolding, washing and drying
and folding again, bed sheets, blankets, both his
and Trip's clothes and under garments. The
windows, the dishes, everything he could think of
even going so far as to take a toothbrush, newly
bought, and scrubbing even the tiniest corners and
hard to reach spots in the rooms, but nothing he
did seemed to make him feel better. Exhausted yes,
but feel clean, no.

He finally sat down in his chair nearest the
windows and began to meditate in his solitude. He
felt his nerves calm some but still he couldn't
feel settled or right. He fell asleep for a few
hours then went back to work on the kitchen. This
time he decided he'd make Trip all of his
favorites. Maybe if he fed Trip and made the night
a romantic one maybe Trip would be able to help
him. He didn't want Trip to know that he'd been
unfaithful. He wanted Trip to feel appreciated and
loved.

He and Trip hadn't exactly had marital intimacies
in a while, maybe it was time to let the barriers
and pain go and make up with Trip the right way.
Give Trip something to think about when his eyes
wandered in the future. He smiled and actually
felt good.

"I don't want Trip to leave me. I have to make
this perfect."

Making Trip's favorites was a pain for Malcolm
because most of the foods he was preparing were
things he couldn't eat whether because he didn't
like them or because of his allergies. He hoped
Trip would like it though. Malcolm's abilities in
the kitchen were minimal and he had yet to over
the years improve on his cooking abilities. He was
watchful and made sure not to let his focus wander
as he cooked so that nothing would burn this time
unlike the disaster meals of the past.

"Tonight is going to be perfect. We're going to
make love and get back on the right path. We'll be
friends again. I'm letting go of this pain I
feel." he murmured as he watched the catfish fry
in the stove. He wanted to make Trip feel loved
and appreciated. He wanted to make sure that Trip
would have something to think about if he ever
decided to leave him again.

"I'm letting go of my jealousy and petty emotions.
Tonight is going to be all about our love." He
said, reassuring himself, prepping himself getting
up his confidence and courage with every word he
spoke out loud. "I won't have him regret ever
having married me ever again. Tonight is the first
step to our happiness." He told himself,
stiffening his posture and forcing the bad
memories away.

"We will be happy and we will be together and
Trey'van isn't going to get between us. Trip's
never going to find out about Trey'van and what he
did to me. No one will. We're going to be a happy
couple again. Trip and me, we're forever." He
insisted, hissed determined to forget Trey'van,
determined to forget all the bad things that had
happened to him over the years. He was a Reed he
had emotions but he didn't whine and cry about it.
He was a Reed and he would repress anything that
was unsightly or unforgivable. He would keep his
man happy. They were going to be a happy couple
again. He was determined to do right by Trip and
no one was going to get in his way.

He smiled lovingly as he prepared the table,
candlesticks and romantic silver laced table-set,
cups wine glasses, small dish for salad, smaller
dish for desert, large dish for main courses, wine
and water for the both of them, and milk for Trip
to go with his pecan pie.

Hoshi watched as did Hayes. Malcolm was acting
very bizarre. Talking to himself cleaning like a
crazed being. Malcolm in an apron who ever would
have believed it if it wasn't already being
captured on screen before their eyes. Actually
Malcolm looked rather cute in the apron, despite
all the frilly little ruffles on it and the
sentence "Mama's gettin' it on in the Kitchen".

Though the phrase didn't match the cute little
apron nor "Mama" describe Malcolm in any way,
Malcolm was actually pulling it off pretty well.
Even if he was talking to himself in words so
quiet and low that she couldn't hear them.

Hayes and she shared a look then looked at T'Pol.

Both humans faces showed T'Pol emotions that then
made her concerned. What was happening below? What
was happening to the Lieutenant and Commander and
to the Captain? According to reports from the two
officers below and even reports from Major Hayes
and Ms. Sato there was nothing to report. Though
Mr. Reed's reports were shaded more and more by
his entangled emotions. Which had T'Pol again
wondering the logic of the situation the crew was
now in.

---

Trey'van wanted to take over the world not because
he was power hungry as he explained to his most
devoted followers, but because he wanted to change
people for the better. I truly believe that given
enough time and effort on all of our parts peace
can be achieved through the change of an
individual's personal perspectives. If we change
their mind into positive mental stability then
this could be the end of all war and strife. If we
change their greed into giving. If we change their
need for violence into need for love, then no more
death would result in an act of depravity. If we
make all love all then there cannot be jealousy or
petty behavior. If all love all then all would
want happiness for their fellows.

But by going into a being's mind and tweaking that
mind into one of his making, he was violating one
of the sacred rules of their society even of their
religion. How can peace come from perversion?

This troubled Trey'van very little but it did
trouble a few of his followers. He sighed. Follow
me unquestioningly. Have faith in me and in my
vision, my image of the future to come. With my
mate beside me there will be nothing I cannot,
that we cannot, achieve.

We will have a Utopia of Worlds. An empire based
on love and respect. We will finally have peace in
the galaxy.

"Yet some are Immune to the gifts of the mind."

This question plagues me as well. Some are immune.
Therefore I suppose if they will not be lead as
sheep by their followers, then those too old to
change, to see reason, will simply have to be put
out of their misery. Euthanasia. Painless merciful
death."

It was perfect.

His true followers agreed, well after he tweaked
their minds again. So exhausting the constant
dealings with the illness of his peoples minds.
But he was worthy and he had a just cause. He
would help them all. It was his calling to help
his fellows and the universe, as much of the
universe as he could before the end of his time
came.

Captain Jonathan Archer sighed as his companion
massaged his back. The bubble bath earlier had
been a great way to relax. He loved Cynthia she
was amazing. He was in heaven. He'd never had so
much sex in his life. He was both exhausted and
thrilled all at the same time. Cynthia was a
goddess.

She leaned over and kissed him, her hands running
down to his behind and giving it a firm squeeze.
He rolled over and she sat in his lap. He was
deliciously warm and ready for another go. She
giggled as his mouth devoured her voluptuous
breasts one at a time. His hands stroked her sides
and she moaned and began to rock increasing the
building heat between them. He met her thrust for
thrust moaning in pleasure as climax soon took
them both.

"Oh love." she groaned. "You are so good to me."

"No, it's the other way around." insisted Archer
sincerely as he kissed her.

Cynthia devoured his mouth then shortened the kiss
to a quick peck. "We have to get dressed, company
should be here soon."

"Not more family is it?"

"No, just Trey'van and his followers. I told him
I'd host his party tonight. We have so much to
thank him for."

"Well, I suppose." said Archer contentedly.

"He did bring us closer together Jonathan, without
him we wouldn't be here today to find love in each
other's arms" She said.

Captain Archer smiled. "That's true, far be it for
me to show ingratitude to a man for having helped
me with someone so beautiful and giving me
something so wonderful, you, Cynthia."

She smiled and gave him another kiss which quickly
dissolved into another bout of passion and
lovemaking.

Charles Tucker the third was not expecting candle
light and home cooked seduction. He came to a stop
just a step through the doorway. His eyes were
glued to the table and dim living area.

"Uh, Malcolm?" he asked nervously. Was Malcolm
expecting company? Should Trip find a couch
somewhere to sleep on? Wait a minute this is a
mission there was no way that Malcolm was out
seducing someone when he should have been
searching for the Captain. Unsettled by his
theories he waited for Malcolm to make an
appearance and to tell him what was going on.

He could smell Pecan pie baking. He began to feel
even more unsettled. Who else on this planet even
knew or even liked Pecan Pie? He got a strange
feeling. Not unpleasant but warm and tingling and
strange. He could smell the steaming vegetables on
the table and the pan fried cat fish, he didn't
think possible to get on this planet. He knew this
was a dinner set for him. A trap that usually
signaled deep intentions of romance and other
things he was hard pressed to figure out. Survival
was for the quick of whit and right now Trip felt
like his brain cells were dead or at the least not
functioning properly.

Unease came back full force when Malcolm came out
of the bedroom dressed to seduce.

Hoshi gasped, Mayweather and Hayes rushed to her
side each of them worried. Had something happened
to the Commander and Lieutenant? They blinked at
the display seeing the room lit only by candles
and the soft glow of the fireplace.

"That looks pretty cozy." remarked Mayweather.

Hoshi replied. "Cozy, that's romance, Mayweather,
it looks like Malcolm's putting the moves on
Trip."

"You have got to be kidding. I didn't think either
one of them ran that way." said Hayes.

Hoshi and Mayweather only shook their heads. As
stunned as anyone could be.

"This doesn't seem right or normal for either one
of them." Said Hoshi in agreement. "But perhaps
we're wrong. Maybe we should try to contact them
and ask them what's going on?"

Hayes frowned. "We can't do that. It could put
their cover in jeopardy."

They continued to star in awe at the unfurling
scene before them on screen. Malcolm was seductive
as chocolate and velvet.

Two glasses of wine in his hands he smiled while
offering Trip one of the glasses. Trip
automatically accepted it then took a quick
gulping sip and let Malcolm lead him to the couch.
Malcolm was warm and friendly. His shirt was pale
white soft cotton and half buttoned showing a
defined chest and a hint of rippling stomach
muscles. Malcolm was too close, smelling too good.
Trip felt his mouth go dry and he took another sip
of wine.

"Dinner's almost ready." said Malcolm. "I'm
waiting on a few of the vegetables and the rolls."

"Mal, what's going on here." he asked, forcing his
mind to think, forcing his lips to move.

"What, can't a man make his man something to eat
without raising suspect?" A quirk of Malcolm's
lips, a warm purr in his voice, a sip of his own
glass of wine.

"Yeah, of course, but I don't understand Mal, I
mean as far as I know I've done nothing to deserve
anything like this." 'his man'? What was going on
here?

"Oh but you have Trip." Malcolm insisted
earnestly, and was suddenly in his lap, his hands
on both sides of Trip's face, intense blue-grey
eyes captured summer-blue eyes. Trip stilled
stunned, he knew what was coming next. "You want
to make our relationship strong again. I want to
show you how much I appreciate that. How much I
love you."

Malcolm's mouth was on his before he could even
reply. Malcolm's kiss was warm, wet but not too
wet, tasting of wine and heat and Malcolm. He
couldn't help but return the kiss but he panicked
and bucked dislodging Malcolm from his lap, wine
stained the couch and rug, crystal broke and
Malcolm let a dismayed cry escape, his injured
knee now had glass lodged in it, serrated and cut
and bleeding. He looked up at Trip watching his
beloved running away.

What had he done to make Trip react so violently?
Why was Trip leaving him?

"Trip!"

"Trip, wait!"

"Where are you going?"

"Trip stop, wait, please." he cried. "Trip"

"Trip"

Trip Tucker didn't stop he didn't turn around and
he didn't reply he kept walking quickly out the
door. His own fear racing louder than any cries
Malcolm made. His heart beat too loud, the scent
of pie not even a comforting sensation but one
that was quickly bringing nausea to his senses. He
left his distraught and in pain friend behind him,
running from his own feelings. Running from the
confusion he felt. He loved Malcolm but he knew
this wasn't right, that this situation didn't feel
right. This was not like Malcolm at all. The
timing for such a relationship wasn't in the cards
right now.

Hoshi, Hayes, and Mayweather were stunned by Trip's
behavior. Even more stunned by Malcolm's tears.

Malcolm felt his heart breaking. He was unbearably
sad and unable to understand what had gone wrong,
what had happened. Had Trip rejected him? What
would he do without Trip? What just happened, why
had Trip acted like that? Weren't they here to
strengthen their relationship, to make their
marriage work? Had Trip felt he had somehow shamed
him? Had he hurt Trip unintentionally?

He couldn't make himself move. Trip had to come
back. Trip wouldn't just leave him like this.

Would he?

He waited for Trip. Heart broken.

He waited

And he waited

Could Trip know? Had Trip found out?

He knows.

He must know

He knows

That's why he's rejected me

He knows.

Oh god

Oh god

Oh god he knows.

But how, how could he know?

Panic and fear rose and he huddled into himself,
rocking back and forth, hugging his stomach,
letting the glass rip his knee open some more,
rocking and rocking. His agitation and despair
grew. He couldn't stop crying or stop rocking. He
wanted to die. If Trip knew, if Trip was rejecting
him; he wanted to die. He deserved to die.

If Trip knew what had happened.

He wanted to die.

What would be worse for Malcolm to admit to: that
he had been raped or that he had been faithless to
Trip? That he had been powerless to prevent what
had happened to him and so would rather believe
himself faithless rather than having been taken
against his will? Malcolm wouldn't like either
idea but he'd choose faithless to powerless any
time.

---

Watching Malcolm on screen Hayes and Hoshi were
both horrified to watch the lieutenant break apart
as he was doing.

What had set it off? Unbidden came the unfamiliar
sensation of worry for the lieutenant to Major
Hayes. What he was witnessing was morbidly
fascinating and ultimately another confirmation
that this ship was not ready nor its crew able to
handle the dangers of which they would have to
face on this mission.

Live audio feed wasn't one of the perks at the
moment. It was driving them both crazy watching
this silent film, wondering and puzzling about the
events that had brought Malcolm Reed to these
desperate straights. They puzzled over the events
they'd witnessed over the last couple of weeks and
nothing came clearly to them to indicate the
reasons for Malcolm to get to this state of being.

Hoshi was able to read body language as well as
written language. Her eyes and ears were key to
her abilities as a linguist. She could read he was
upset, crushingly upset. Watching him willfully
grind his knee into the broken glass was a sign of
self destruction, or a hurt so deep that the only
way to relieve oneself of the emotional pain was
through the physical, like cutting.

"I think whatever's happening down there they
better find the Captain and fast. He could be
going through this same thing. He could be an
emotional wreck like Malcolm. Possibly suicidal or
even dead." Said Hoshi, pessimistically.

Hayes frowned. "Let's hope not. Our mission's
hardly begun and for it to end like this...  It
doesn't spell anything good for anybody, let alone
the human race." said Hayes darkly. "We should
pull them out of there."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow as she listened in the
two. "Ensign, Major, did you have news you wished
to share with us?"

Hoshi bit her lip debating to speak then she
frowned and shook her head. Major Hayes replied.
"No, not really. No news on the Captain, anyway."

He wasn't about to report to the fitness of his
commanding officers though. He wasn't a
tattle-tale. He was in security, a MACO, secrets
were his trade and he wasn't going to tell
Sub-Commander T'Pol that their Chief of Security,
his CO was at the moment unfit for any kind of
duty but that of a patient in a straight jacket in
the loony ward.

He could see that one going over real well with
the crew and the men and women in particular in
the Armory. They'd string him up or foist him out
the nearest air lock.

He'd let Commander Tucker deal with the matter and
report to the mental state his officer was in or
if he was in the same state as Malcolm then Major
Hayes was pretty sure T'Pol could make an accurate
assessment of their emotional issues and order
them to permanent residency in sickbay if such a
situation were indeed to happen.

T'Pol was in command of this ship and he'd leave
it to her to give the orders and make her own
assessment of their conditions.

"Are you sure there is nothing you wish to
report?" inquired T'Pol.

"Yes, Ma'am, nothing." insisted Hayes.

'Very well. I see it is almost time for Commander
Tucker and Lieutenant Reed to check in, have they
anything to report?"

Hoshi danced her fingers over her touchpad that
shook her head. "They haven't checked in yet.
Nothing to report it seems for the time being."

T'Pol's pointy brows furrowed. "It is unlike the
Lieutenant to not send his report on time. Are you
absolutely certain there is nothing? Do you wish
to add anything?"

"I don't know ma'am. The Lieutenant is only human,
as much as he tries to make his reports on time,
there are bound to be delays, or things that come
up on such a dangerous undercover mission."
replied Hoshi, trying to cover for Malcolm's lapse
in sanity.

"Very well, inform me when they finally report
in."

"Yes ma'am." said Hayes and Hoshi together as
Mayweather was about to take his turn at the
console, officer watching.

The room was dark, candles had guttered in the
hours that Trip had been absent. Malcolm still
rocked in place, tears trickling down his cheeks,
one tear crawling slowly down after the other. His
knee was torn up but he had stopped bleeding a
while ago, rocking and imbedding more glass as he
did so, as the door opened and bright light gushed
in, Reed stopped, he was perfectly still as the
outline of his beloved shadowed into the room from
the doorway. He sniffled and wiped hurriedly at
his eyes, getting rid of as much evidence of his
unmanned state as he could. Trip had come back to
him. Trip still loved him. They'd work things out.
He knew it now that he could see Trip standing
there searching the room with his worried gaze for
him.

"Malcolm." he said perplexed. He could see from
the dimness of the room that nothing had been
touched. He could tell that Malcolm had sat there
these last few hours and not tidied a single
moment of his absence, not touched a single candle
or a single plate of food. This was not like
Malcolm. This evening was like a round of the
Twilight Zone at movie time. He knew the person in
this room had to be Malcolm but they sure didn't
act like Malcolm.

"Malcolm, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, now that you're here." Malcolm replied,
sweetly, lovingly, sickeningly.

Trip was here now. Everything was right in
Malcolm's world again.

Trip frowned worried, "Malcolm, I want you to
answer me truthfully and sincerely when I ask you.
Have you been taken over by a pod person?"

Malcolm blinked as Trip hit the lights forcing the
darkness at bay so he could see Malcolm's face
clearly when he replied.

"No, I haven't been taken over by a pod person.
Why would you think I've been taken over by a pod
person?" he asked honestly puzzled.

Trip didn't answer he stared at the wreckage of
his friend on the floor before him. Seeing hair
messed from finger pulling at strands, seeing red
rimmed eyes and splotches of red on pale, pale,
skin. Crimson dried in a good sized stain by one
knee, more crimson on a torn blue jeans knee. He
sucked in a gust of air then let it out and was at
Malcolm's side in three long fast striding steps
and quickly lifted Malcolm up into his strong arms
and carried him into the bathroom.

"Jesus, what did you do to yourself?" he gasped as
he sat Malcolm down on the edge of the tub and
ripped the rest of his pant leg off to clean the
cut and raw wounded knee. He let water run in the
tub then hurried to his first aid kit for tweevers
and anti-septic and pain killers.

"We need to soak that leg of yours and get all of
the glass out. I hope none of its traveling in
your blood stream otherwise you could be looking
at some major medical problems Malcolm. We'll have
to let Phlox know regardless. That much glass
didn't get into your knee by accident. This isn't
right Mal. This isn't like you."

Malcolm looked away unable to meet Trip's
concerned blue eyes. He felt so unworthy of Trip
right then. He felt like such a burden to Trip.
Yet Trip didn't seem to mind. He was here and he
was taking care of him. He was lucky to have Trip
care at all about him.

"Malcolm, what's going on in that messed up head
of yours?" he asked gently, negating the sting in
his words with his show of gentleness.

---

Trey'van had never been so enraged. How could
those two thwart him like this? How could his
sweet Malcolm totally twist the imbedded messages
in his mind and instead of giving Trey'van his
love and ardor instead kept giving it to the
unworthy Tucker.

Tucker who had abused him and rejected him time
and time again.

"All of his devotion should have been mine. How
was this possible? How had he without any training
or defenses have thwarted my mind messages?"

His assistants bowed and scraped and tried to
comfort him but instead it only enraged him more.
His Malcolm was a fighter. A firebrand. A
scrapper. So much passion and fire in one little
insignificant plain-bland looking little alien.

What was it about Malcolm that so impassioned and
set his loins ablaze? What about the ingrate,
ungrateful Malcolm made him so much an object of
his needs, an object to his possession and
obsessions?

He searched the compound and found his beloved one
missing along with his mate. Enraged further
Trey'van sent out his soldiers with one single
mission. "Bring back Malcolm Reed, alive and kill
his mate. I want Malcolm for my own. To help us
all, my children, with our one true goal, paradise
outside of death."

On the ship Malcolm Reed was in sick bay, his eyes
focused solely on Trip. Dr. Phlox looked at his
reading then up at the quiet haggard young man.
"Mr. Reed are you in pain?" he asked gently.

"No. I'm fine." he insisted as usual.

Phlox frowned. "Well, I have searched your blood
and I have found no chemicals, and Mr. Tucker will
be glad to know I have not found any glass in your
blood either. But this does concern me, as well as
the rest of your friends, Mr. Reed. They've
noticed something odd has been happening to you of
late... . I would almost suspect that you are
suffering a form of depression disorder.

"Your neurological makeup is ...  I will need to take
further tests. You have shown signs of being a
danger to yourself. I don't believe I should let
you out of sickbay at all, yet you do not as yet
show signs of endangerment to the crew and with Mr
Tucker assuring me that he plans to take care of
you and keep an eye on you, I trust him to look
after you. We all know how much you dislike
sickbay and as a favor to yourself, myself and Mr.
Tucker; I have agreed to his request."

"Of course he will look after me, he's my
husband." insisted Reed, anxiously.

Phlox paused. "Why do you believe that he is your
husband?" inquired Phlox sympathy in his eyes and
tone.

"Because...  we're married...  I...  I lost my ring" He
fidgeted guiltily. Quick to reassure his spouse.
"But I will find it again or...  or Trip could buy me
a new one?" Malcolm insisted, his tone was one
nearing panic despite his attempts at keeping
calm. He didn't like disappointing Trip and it was
a terrible thing that he'd lost his ring that day
in the forest...  the day he'd lost his...  no, no don't
go there, not there.

Trip was at his side hand on his shoulder giving
support. His own prop, gold band on his finger
glinted in the sickbay lights. Reed's eyes focused
on the ring and on the hand of the man he loved.
Their hand's clasped together fingers
intertwining. Trip kissed his brow.

"Its alright Mal, like I said, the ring's no
bother. We'll get'ya a new one."

Malcolm smiled sweetly, trusting in Trip. Trusting
that their marriage was going to survive this.

Malcolm's mood swings were scary more so than ever
before. It was obvious the Lieutenant didn't have
all of his marbles. Maco and security walked
softly in his presence though Malcolm rarely made
it to the armory. He was not allowed duty.

He tagged along with Tucker, invading the
engineering section. Dogging Tucker's steps,
gazing jealously on people who tried to monopolize
his husband's time away from Malcolm. He didn't
trust them not to want his spouse or for said
spouse to find other pursuits to be more
pleasurable than a spouse on the verge of suicidal
tendencies.

"Mal, stop fretting. I told ya, I wasn't going to
leave ya. I know we've had troubles in the past
but we're together. Right? We got wedding rings,
right?"

Malcolm sighed despondently. "Yes, but...  I saw that
woman looking at you and you returned her look."

"Mal, I aint gonna cheat on ya. You know that!"
said the exasperated Engineer. Malcolm flinched.
Malcolm's self esteem was damaged and he tended to
perceive everyone out to take Trip away from him.
He even thought Trip was looking for an excuse to
leave him. He was grasping and needy. Constantly
in need of reassurances. It was getting
frustrating and exasperating and exhausting to
constantly be needed.

"Do I?" asked Reed tone of voice and the
expression in his eyes showing complete pain.

"Yes, ga-dammit!" growled Tucker furiously.

"You didn't get me a new ring yet." said Reed
voice quavering, near tears.

Tucker was quickly by his side putting an arm
around his shoulders. He kissed Malcolm's
forehead. "Mal, please don't cry. Please don't
cry." begged Tucker feeling once more out of his
depths.

He loved Mal but he knew that if Malcolm were in
his right mind right now he wouldn't be carrying
on like this or even let Tucker hold him like this
or kiss him like this or...  Malcolm was straight. If
it hadn't been for that counselor messing with
Malcolm's mind Mal would know his actions weren't
like his usual self. Emotional Malcolm wasn't. Gay
Malcolm wasn't either.

"When I get more time." he promised. "When we find
Johnny. We'll get ya a new ring or else find the
old one, I swear it Mal."

Malcolm didn't look satisfied. Instead he looked
more miserable. "You want Archer instead of me.
You think I'm a drain on you. You wont even touch
me when we're in bed together. You're going to
leave me when we find Archer. I know it." he
insisted mulishly, eyes filling with tears.

"Mal that's not true!" cried Tucker in protest.
"There's no one I want more than you. Ya gotta
believe me."

The engineering crew outside his office stopped in
their duties hearing the two men argue and their
voices raising or rather Tucker's voice rising
more and more with his rise in his stress levels.
They had never heard such a desperate sound come
from their chief before.

Malcolm just shook his head and wept more
miserably. Trip's heart twisted with new pain. He
wanted to kill the bastard that did this to Mal.
Made him into such an emotional wreck, made him
doubt Trip's sincerity, made him such a basket
case, a suicidal basket case. He feared he was
losing Mal.

He had lost count the many times over the last
seven days he'd kept Mal from offing himself. He
was drained and frightened. Phlox's meds didn't
seem to be helping Mal at all. He wanted his old
Mal back. He didn't want to be afraid any more or
have to constantly keep a guard on Mal.

He wanted to trust Malcolm again. He wanted to
trust that he wouldn't try to die after every
minor argument they had. He wanted to have a
conversation with Mal that didn't end in pain for
both of them.

He knew he shouldn't have said it or let it come
out the way it did, but he was pretty exhausted
and he was never one to hold back in bluntness.
"Let's go to sickbay Mal. I don't think the doc's
got your meds right yet." insisted Trip gently.

"Its not the meds. You love Archer. You don't love
me." he wept harder and broke away from Trip's
arms.

Trip tried to chase after him but for a frail
wraith out of his mind Reed was fast and soon lost
the frantic engineer. When he cried to his people
to stop Reed. Malcolm managed to dodge them as
well and make a good escape.

Reed wanted to die. Everyone wanted to take Trip
away from him and he couldn't keep him. Archer and
Trip were closer to each other than he was to
Trip. Trip didn't touch him. Trip wouldn't kiss
him, except little pecks on the forehead or cheek
and nothing on the lips or on the neck. And no
love-making at all.

Trip said he wasn't right in the head. The doctor,
quack that he was, also said he wasn't in his
right mind but he knew he was perfectly fine. He
knew he wasn't good enough for Trip but he really
had hoped Trip would love him, choose him over
Archer or T'Pol. Tri couldn't hide his feelings
very well. He was an open book to Malcolm, an open
book! A book with pages and pages of words Malcolm
could read and interpret as well as anyone else.

The mood swing had changed yet again and a new
course of actions came easily to Malcolm's
mercurial mind.

He wasn't going to lose Trip without a fight!

T'Pol was going to die.

---

T'Pol was trying to mobilize the troops in a
concentrated group effort with their new allies to
bring down the cult leader they knew as Trey'Van.
"Our captain is missing and one of our operatives
has been...  incapacitated by his brush with
Trey'van. He is not himself. His mind is out of
order and more illogical than it should be."

Malcolm frowned. Why was she talking about him to
some stranger? What was she up to? It didn't
matter she was going to die. He wasn't going to
give her the chance to take his Trip away from
him.

MACO and Security and Engineers regrouped and
searched while Trip fretted and Phlox looked on
with compassion and concern.

"Sometimes meds take a little experimentation
Commander and with Mr Reed's sensitivity to most
things, well, it is a bit difficult, hmm, but not
impossible to strike on the right combination for
him. I will of course need to work on some more
blood samples and a scan of his brain, hmm yes,
take a look at some of that neural synapse
patterns and try to go from there. This is not a
usual mental fatigue issue, as we know something
down on the planet occurred. Some sort of mental
assault, perhaps even an emotional one or even a
physical assault. My tests from earlier confirm at
least recent sexual activity whether it was
willing or not is hard to confirm."

Trip blinked back sudden feelings of rage and
horror. His Mal had been assaulted? Mal wouldn't
let someone get that close. Malcolm was deadly. No
one could possibly -- yet, something had happened
down there. Malcolm was muttering things all the
time, irrational things that didn't make sense
most of the time but one phrase in particular was
always being repeated.

"I wouldn't cheat. I didn't cheat. I love you so
much. I could never cheat on you" was it
reaffirmation or was it denial or was it some sort
of code for, "I was raped and couldn't make it
stop" ? His heart wrenched with that image. His
Mal taken against his will.

Yet there was something in him that believed the
worse possible scenario would have been that it
had been consensual. It would be almost too cruel
to believe that Mal would find someone else in
that spa to have an affair with.

Hold It! We're not married! If he had found
someone to have sex with down there he wasn't
betraying anything let alone me. But I know Mal
and I know he has troubles with ladies and even
worse troubles with guys. There was no way Mal
would have had an affair with someone and not have
sought out my advice.

He always has before. Though it had hurt to give
his friend advice on wooing someone other than
himself he had still given good advice with
disastrous results.

Malcolm was shy. He stuttered he stammered, he was
a complete cutie with a lack of social grace when
it came to the matters of the heart. How he had
managed to have a list of Exes a mile long was a
little hard to believe unless they had been
somewhat like himself and seen past the social
bumbling. Yet those relationships hadn't lasted
long and he planned to make his and Mal's
relationship last a life time, if they ever
managed to survive this dammed war, let alone the
incompetent away missions. He knew everyone was
new and all but really they needed some sort of
guide of procedures for some of those darned
disastrous missions.

Trip scowled. "I've tried to get him to talk about
it Phlox, honestly I have. it's a no deal. He wont
bite."

"Then we must carry on as we have been stumbling
clumsily through the dark and hope we eventually
come to a glowing moss path that let's us out of
the cave." said Phlox sadly.

Trip sighed. Could he continue like this? Could
Mal? Being trusted then distrusted in turns it was
exhausting. It was extremely frustrating.

He just wanted Malcolm back. The right-in-his-mind
Malcolm back. A sane Malcolm would be extremely
good right about now.

---
Flashback
---

Their shared quarters. Bandages wrapped tightly
around Mal's wrists, hands and thighs. Delicate
lacerations had been carved into his skin. Malcolm
had been very upset today.

"I didn't sleep with T'Pol." He argued hotly.
"What's gotten into your head Mal? How did you
twist things up to this point? Why did you try to
kill yourself again?" He demanded anguished. "I
told ya I wasn't going to leave ya. I told ya I
didn't sleep with the Vulcan, or with Whitney from
Engineering or with Kraiger from Armory. For
Christ's sake Mal, tell me what's going on. Tell
me what happened to you on that planet."

Malcolm was weeping again. Curled up on their bed.
The last of the bandages ties into place, Trip's
arms wrapped around him, trying to give comfort
and love with the expressions of his body, since
his language and communication skills all seemed
to be coming to a warped interpretation and
twisted conclusion from Mal making him react in a
manner that was clearly not conducive to anyone's
well being.

"I don't care if our relationship's in tethers,
that you've slept around on me. I love you. I love
you so much. If you sleep with T'Pol I'll forgive
it. I'll put up with it. I'll do anything to keep
you Trip, accept anything, do anything as long as
you don't leave me. Please don't leave me." he
begged.

"I aint leaving ya Mal, just tell me what happened
to ya. Please talk to me Mal. Talk to me or talk
to Phlox."

Malcolm tensed. "Phlox will lock me up. He'll keep
me in sickbay and he'll run his tests on me. You
already think I'm insane. The way they look at me.
Poor Reed he's lost his marbles." there was rage
in Malcolm's voice. Rage in his trembling body.
Trip hugged him tighter.

"I don't think that Mal. No one thinks that." he
hissed, lying through his teeth. "You're in pain.
We're your friends. We don't like seeing ya in so
much pain. If you talk about it, it might go away.
I'd like to make it go away for you Mal."

Malcolm sighed as Trip's hands began to massage
his back. He ached in his muscles. Trip could feel
Mal's body reacting could feel Malcolm wiggling
and trying to direct his hands lower. Mal was a
horny little bugger. Mal was kissing his neck and
chest his hands moving firmly on a path meant to
arouse and cause love play. Trip caught his hands
and kissed the knuckles then the insides. He
looked steadily into Malcolm's eyes, eyes dark yet
alight with passion and love.

"Mal, honey, I love ya." he insisted firm and
truthfully. "I really do. But I aint going to take
advantage of you in this condition. I wont do it."

Malcolm frowned. "I thought you loved me. Don't
you want to make love to me?"

"Didn't I just tell ya I loved ya? Of course I do
and we will make love Mal, honest to god one day
we will but not right now Mal. Right now all I
just want to do is hold ya and make ya feel
better."

Malcolm growled with discontent closed his eyes
and for the moment seemed to give up. "Making love
to me would make me feel better." He pouted. "But
have it your way, all right, I'll behave. Just
hold me and don't leave me. Promise you'll never
leave me and I'll be satisfied. I promise."
insisted Reed.

Trip gulped then fiercely promised. "I promise
Mal. I'll never leave ya, not ever."

Reed sighed happily now in a cuddly mood. Mal
could be such a snuggle bunny sometimes. Trip
wondered idly if - no - when Mal was in his right
mind again would Mal still be the same snuggley
person?

"Phlox will fix this Mal. We just need to be
patient. I should never'ave dragged you into that
place. We should never have gone down there and
played cloak and dagger, secret agents. We should
have just confronted them plain and simple and
demanded our Captain back. But I really wanted to
find John. But mostly Mal I just wanted to put us
back together again ya know? Fix our friendship.
Cause I know I hurt ya Mal and I never wanted to
hurt ya. Not ever."

Malcolm was asleep sighing contentedly, his body
still plastered even in sleep to Trip's own body
like a second skin. It was little suffocating yet
at the same time the most wonderful thing in his
world. Malcolm thought he was in love with Trip
and Trip wished it was true.

---
End Flash Back
---

T'Pol was in the middle of negotiations with the
prevention branch of the planet when Malcolm Reed
made his stealthy way into the Captain's ready
room where she was talking on the vid with the man
in charge of Violations Preventions Office.

She smelled him before she heard him. The man on
the vid gasped out a cry of warning unneeded.
Malcolm and T'Pol fought hand to hand and T'Pol
with larger body and stronger alien bones and
muscle held Malcolm still. Held him in a hold he
could not escape. The silverware clattered to the
carpet and he glared into her eyes.

"I hate you. I wont let you take Trip away from
me."

"Your distrust of Trip is what will take him away
from you Lieutenant." insisted T'Pol cooly.

Malcolm's eyes filled with tears. "you don't
understand. You haven't a heart to know what
craving is. You haven't a heart to know what love
is. I need him. I love him and you don't care.
You're incapable of feelings. You're going to take
him away from me. He wont event ouch me but he
lets you touch him doesn't he and you get to touch
him all you like." He accused angrily. He tried to
scratch her or bite her or something other then
dangle uselessly from her unbreakable hold on his
person.

T'Pol looked at the monitor. "This is the crew
member I was telling you about. As you can see he
is not well. This is what he has become in only
two short weeks Trey'Van's place of enlightened
healing. My crewmate is not healed. Instead he is
broken. His mind has been tampered with has it
not?" she said cold and logic.

Malcolm glared. "I'm not broken. I wasn't tampered
with. Don't say that berk's name!" he roared
trying to struggle some more. His bones hurt from
her hold.

She was in his mind. Her fingers on his skin was
letting her know what was on his mind. "Get out of
my mind." he screamed.

He tried to kick her but he couldn't move. The
"teddy bear" as his second like to call it, a move
from the Judo discipline it had another name but
he couldn't recall it right now, referred to by
its nickname, was a hold that didn't allow for
kicking or thumping. He was immobile.

"Fuck'n bitch, get your hands off of me." he
growled. Profanity wasn't alien to him after all
his father and mother had both been sailors but
they had also been well brought up and had brought
up their children not to profane while in the
company of others and to try not to profane even
while alone. But right now a real good curse would
be worth it in place of violence if it meant T'Pol
would not touch him any more.

He hated being touched. Hated the way Trey'Van had
touched him, taken liberties with his person and
made him forget things. He hated the way touch
reinforced other things that he couldn't... .
wouldn't open his mind to remembering. He didn't
want to think of Trey'Van or of anyone.

Let go! Let GO! He raged, seethed, screamed
internally and outwardly. MACOS, Security, and
Engineers burst onto the scene.

On Screen the Officer projected his calm onto the
room. Forcing both Reed and T'Pol to disengage
from one another's minds. Sensing Reed's turmoil
and pain. He felt a tear track down his face.

"Calm. You are right, Sub-Commander he has been
touched. We will track down the criminal. I must
also ask you to please bring your Mr Reed down to
the planet as well. We have a clinic for ...  we have
a place of healing for those so wrongly abused. It
will take many months for the damage to be
reversed. I fear perhaps even our Allie the
Betazed may not have an easy job of undoing what
this Trey'Van character has done to him. But we
will do all that is in our power to heal Mr Reed.
I promise you that."

"There's nothing wrong with me." hissed Reed. "I'm
not going back down there. You can't make me go
back down there."

Trip looked into Reed's eyes and felt his heart
squeeze painfully. Malcolm was terrified. He
wouldn't be subjected to their mercies again. He
wouldn't. Trip could read Malcolm like a well
turned novel. His eyes flickered away from T'Pol
and Malcolm and saw the knife on the floor and
felt his heart squeeze again.

He was failing in his duty to Mal and to himself,
to keep Mal safe from himself and safe to others.
Malcolm flinched and looked away guilty as he saw
Trip's eyes dance between his own and the knife on
the floor.

When next their eyes met Trip' s eyes blazed with
fury and determination. "You are going back down
there Mal. Even if I have to make it an order. You
are going back down there and you are going to go
to that damned clinic and you are going to get
well, or by God and all that's holy I swear I'll
have you up on charges of attempted murder and
anything dammed else I can think of. T'Pol get off
of him.!" roared Trip.

Malcolm stayed perfectly still and lay on the
floor unmoving as T'Pol agile got up and stood on
her feet. Malcolm knew he was in trouble major
trouble. He may not be exactly in his right mind
but he knew at least that much that he was in
trouble real trouble. He hadn't seen Trip this
angry in a long time, not since Earth was bereft
of a few million peoples lives one of them his
sister's, not since the shuttle pod, not since,
well he wasn't sure when. Trip meant it. Trip was
furious with him. He trembled and again he wanted
to die. He had never wanted to make Trip this
angry.

Trip was going to leave him now for sure.

He could feel it. He'd gone too far this time.

Why didn't Trip understand how far Malcolm would
go for him. All Trip had to do was ask and he'd
give his life willingly, even his freedom
willingly, all Trip had to do was ask it of him,
even if it meant going below as long as Trip
promised not to leave him; he'd do anything for
Trip. Anything.

He wasn't aware of the tears tracking down his
cheeks. He heard Trip rage at him and all he could
do was blubber. Trip ordered "Get up."

Malcolm couldn't he didn't have the strength to
stand up not when Trip was this angry.

"Get up." Trip hissed.

Trip picked him up by his shirt and slammed him
into a wall.

"I aint never been this angry before Mal. Aint
never in all my life been so angry with anyone
before now, not even the Xindi. If I ever get my
hands on that Trey'Van son of a bitch I don't know
what I'll do but one things for sure Mal, I'm
going to make him pay for what he's done to you.
Stand up. This aint you. Stand up Mal. Stand up on
your own two feet and march. March out of this
room and pack your bags, we're going down there
and this time, this time I aint letting you out of
my sight."

Malcolm cried harder and stumbled as he walked
weakly to the door. Trip marching his ass home was
embarrassing. The fact that he had almost tried to
kill not only T'Pol but himself was pathetic and
Trip was angry with him. Even if Trip said it was
Trey'Van he was really angry with. He knew Trip was
angry with him as well.

Angry with him because he had been too weak to
stop Trey'Van from doing those things to him. He
had been too weak to not go through with killing
T'Pol. He had been too weak to not follow through
on taking his own life. He was weak because he
needed Trip so much and Trip was being sucked dry
by Malcolm's weaknesses.

"I'm sorry." he whimpered. "Really sorry."

"I know Mal. I know." said Trip pain creeping into
his tone of voice as was exhaustion. He was at the
end of his rope and so was Mal.

MACO, Security and Engineers alike looked on with
pity. This wasn't their friend. This was a wreck
of the person they used to respect. Would Lt. Reed
ever become himself again?

---

T'Pol was trying to mobilize the troops in a
concentrated group effort with their new allies to
bring down the cult leader they knew as Trey'Van.
"Our captain is missing and one of our operatives
has been...  incapacitated by his brush with
Trey'van. He is not himself. His mind is out of
order and more illogical than it should be."

Malcolm frowned. Why was she talking about him to
some stranger? What was she up to? It didn't
matter she was going to die. He wasn't going to
give her the chance to take his Trip away from
him.

MACO and Security and Engineers regrouped and
searched while Trip fretted and Phlox looked on
with compassion and concern.

"Sometimes meds take a little experimentation
Commander and with Mr Reed's sensitivity to most
things, well, it is a bit difficult, hmm, but not
impossible to strike on the right combination for
him. I will of course need to work on some more
blood samples and a scan of his brain, hmm yes,
take a look at some of that neural synapse
patterns and try to go from there. This is not a
usual mental fatigue issue, as we know something
down on the planet occurred. Some sort of mental
assault, perhaps even an emotional one or even a
physical assault. My tests from earlier confirm at
least recent sexual activity whether it was
willing or not is hard to confirm."

Trip blinked back sudden feelings of rage and
horror. His Mal had been assaulted? Mal wouldn't
let someone get that close. Malcolm was deadly. No
one could possibly -- yet, something had happened
down there. Malcolm was muttering things all the
time, irrational things that didn't make sense
most of the time but one phrase in particular was
always being repeated.

"I wouldn't cheat. I didn't cheat. I love you so
much. I could never cheat on you" was it
reaffirmation or was it denial or was it some sort
of code for, "I was raped and couldn't make it
stop" ? His heart wrenched with that image. His
Mal taken against his will.

Yet there was something in him that believed the
worse possible scenario would have been that it
had been consensual. It would be almost too cruel
to believe that Mal would find someone else in
that spa to have an affair with.

Hold It! We're not married! If he had found
someone to have sex with down there he wasn't
betraying anything let alone me. But I know Mal
and I know he has troubles with ladies and even
worse troubles with guys. There was no way Mal
would have had an affair with someone and not have
sought out my advice.

He always has before. Though it had hurt to give
his friend advice on wooing someone other than
himself he had still given good advice with
disastrous results.

Malcolm was shy. He stuttered he stammered, he was
a complete cutie with a lack of social grace when
it came to the matters of the heart. How he had
managed to have a list of Exes a mile long was a
little hard to believe unless they had been
somewhat like himself and seen past the social
bumbling. Yet those relationships hadn't lasted
long and he planned to make his and Mal's
relationship last a life time, if they ever
managed to survive this dammed war, let alone the
incompetent away missions. He knew everyone was
new and all but really they needed some sort of
guide of procedures for some of those darned
disastrous missions.

Trip scowled. "I've tried to get him to talk about
it Phlox, honestly I have. it's a no deal. He wont
bite."

"Then we must carry on as we have been stumbling
clumsily through the dark and hope we eventually
come to a glowing moss path that let's us out of
the cave." said Phlox sadly.

Trip sighed. Could he continue like this? Could
Mal? Being trusted then distrusted in turns it was
exhausting. It was extremely frustrating.

He just wanted Malcolm back. The right-in-his-mind
Malcolm back. A sane Malcolm would be extremely
good right about now.

---
Flashback
---

Their shared quarters. Bandages wrapped tightly
around Mal's wrists, hands and thighs. Delicate
lacerations had been carved into his skin. Malcolm
had been very upset today.

"I didn't sleep with T'Pol." He argued hotly.
"What's gotten into your head Mal? How did you
twist things up to this point? Why did you try to
kill yourself again?" He demanded anguished. "I
told ya I wasn't going to leave ya. I told ya I
didn't sleep with the Vulcan, or with Whitney from
Engineering or with Kraiger from Armory. For
Christ's sake Mal, tell me what's going on. Tell
me what happened to you on that planet."

Malcolm was weeping again. Curled up on their bed.
The last of the bandages ties into place, Trip's
arms wrapped around him, trying to give comfort
and love with the expressions of his body, since
his language and communication skills all seemed
to be coming to a warped interpretation and
twisted conclusion from Mal making him react in a
manner that was clearly not conducive to anyone's
well being.

"I don't care if our relationship's in tethers,
that you've slept around on me. I love you. I love
you so much. If you sleep with T'Pol I'll forgive
it. I'll put up with it. I'll do anything to keep
you Trip, accept anything, do anything as long as
you don't leave me. Please don't leave me." he
begged.

"I aint leaving ya Mal, just tell me what happened
to ya. Please talk to me Mal. Talk to me or talk
to Phlox."

Malcolm tensed. "Phlox will lock me up. He'll keep
me in sickbay and he'll run his tests on me. You
already think I'm insane. The way they look at me.
Poor Reed he's lost his marbles." there was rage
in Malcolm's voice. Rage in his trembling body.
Trip hugged him tighter.

"I don't think that Mal. No one thinks that." he
hissed, lying through his teeth. "You're in pain.
We're your friends. We don't like seeing ya in so
much pain. If you talk about it, it might go away.
I'd like to make it go away for you Mal."

Malcolm sighed as Trip's hands began to massage
his back. He ached in his muscles. Trip could feel
Mal's body reacting could feel Malcolm wiggling
and trying to direct his hands lower. Mal was a
horny little bugger. Mal was kissing his neck and
chest his hands moving firmly on a path meant to
arouse and cause love play. Trip caught his hands
and kissed the knuckles then the insides. He
looked steadily into Malcolm's eyes, eyes dark yet
alight with passion and love.

"Mal, honey, I love ya." he insisted firm and
truthfully. "I really do. But I aint going to take
advantage of you in this condition. I wont do it."

Malcolm frowned. "I thought you loved me. Don't
you want to make love to me?"

"Didn't I just tell ya I loved ya? Of course I do
and we will make love Mal, honest to god one day
we will but not right now Mal. Right now all I
just want to do is hold ya and make ya feel
better."

Malcolm growled with discontent closed his eyes
and for the moment seemed to give up. "Making love
to me would make me feel better." He pouted. "But
have it your way, all right, I'll behave. Just
hold me and don't leave me. Promise you'll never
leave me and I'll be satisfied. I promise."
insisted Reed.

Trip gulped then fiercely promised. "I promise
Mal. I'll never leave ya, not ever."

Reed sighed happily now in a cuddly mood. Mal
could be such a snuggle bunny sometimes. Trip
wondered idly if - no - when Mal was in his right
mind again would Mal still be the same snuggley
person?

"Phlox will fix this Mal. We just need to be
patient. I should never'ave dragged you into that
place. We should never have gone down there and
played cloak and dagger, secret agents. We should
have just confronted them plain and simple and
demanded our Captain back. But I really wanted to
find John. But mostly Mal I just wanted to put us
back together again ya know? Fix our friendship.
Cause I know I hurt ya Mal and I never wanted to
hurt ya. Not ever."

Malcolm was asleep sighing contentedly, his body
still plastered even in sleep to Trip's own body
like a second skin. It was little suffocating yet
at the same time the most wonderful thing in his
world. Malcolm thought he was in love with Trip
and Trip wished it was true.

---
End Flash Back
---

T'Pol was in the middle of negotiations with the
prevention branch of the planet when Malcolm Reed
made his stealthy way into the Captain's ready
room where she was talking on the vid with the man
in charge of Violations Preventions Office.

She smelled him before she heard him. The man on
the vid gasped out a cry of warning unneeded.
Malcolm and T'Pol fought hand to hand and T'Pol
with larger body and stronger alien bones and
muscle held Malcolm still. Held him in a hold he
could not escape. The silverware clattered to the
carpet and he glared into her eyes.

"I hate you. I wont let you take Trip away from
me."

"Your distrust of Trip is what will take him away
from you Lieutenant." insisted T'Pol cooly.

Malcolm's eyes filled with tears. "you don't
understand. You haven't a heart to know what
craving is. You haven't a heart to know what love
is. I need him. I love him and you don't care.
You're incapable of feelings. You're going to take
him away from me. He wont event ouch me but he
lets you touch him doesn't he and you get to touch
him all you like." He accused angrily. He tried to
scratch her or bite her or something other then
dangle uselessly from her unbreakable hold on his
person.

T'Pol looked at the monitor. "This is the crew
member I was telling you about. As you can see he
is not well. This is what he has become in only
two short weeks Trey'Van's place of enlightened
healing. My crewmate is not healed. Instead he is
broken. His mind has been tampered with has it
not?" she said cold and logic.

Malcolm glared. "I'm not broken. I wasn't tampered
with. Don't say that berk's name!" he roared
trying to struggle some more. His bones hurt from
her hold.

She was in his mind. Her fingers on his skin was
letting her know what was on his mind. "Get out of
my mind." he screamed.

He tried to kick her but he couldn't move. The
"teddy bear" as his second like to call it, a move
from the Judo discipline it had another name but
he couldn't recall it right now, referred to by
its nickname, was a hold that didn't allow for
kicking or thumping. He was immobile.

"Fuck'n bitch, get your hands off of me." he
growled. Profanity wasn't alien to him after all
his father and mother had both been sailors but
they had also been well brought up and had brought
up their children not to profane while in the
company of others and to try not to profane even
while alone. But right now a real good curse would
be worth it in place of violence if it meant T'Pol
would not touch him any more.

He hated being touched. Hated the way Trey'Van had
touched him, taken liberties with his person and
made him forget things. He hated the way touch
reinforced other things that he couldn't... .
wouldn't open his mind to remembering. He didn't
want to think of Trey'Van or of anyone.

Let go! Let GO! He raged, seethed, screamed
internally and outwardly. MACOS, Security, and
Engineers burst onto the scene.

On Screen the Officer projected his calm onto the
room. Forcing both Reed and T'Pol to disengage
from one another's minds. Sensing Reed's turmoil
and pain. He felt a tear track down his face.

"Calm. You are right, Sub-Commander he has been
touched. We will track down the criminal. I must
also ask you to please bring your Mr Reed down to
the planet as well. We have a clinic for ...  we have
a place of healing for those so wrongly abused. It
will take many months for the damage to be
reversed. I fear perhaps even our Allie the
Betazeds may not have an easy job of undoing what
this Trey'Van character has done to him. But we
will do all that is in our power to heal Mr Reed.
I promise you that."

"There's nothing wrong with me." hissed Reed. "I'm
not going back down there. You can't make me go
back down there."

Trip looked into Reed's eyes and felt his heart
squeeze painfully. Malcolm was terrified. He
wouldn't be subjected to their mercies again. He
wouldn't. Trip could read Malcolm like a well
turned novel. His eyes flickered away from T'Pol
and Malcolm and saw the knife on the floor and
felt his heart squeeze again.

He was failing in his duty to Mal and to himself,
to keep Mal safe from himself and safe to others.
Malcolm flinched and looked away guilty as he saw
Trip's eyes dance between his own and the knife on
the floor.

When next their eyes met Trip' s eyes blazed with
fury and determination. "You are going back down
there Mal. Even if I have to make it an order. You
are going back down there and you are going to go
to that damned clinic and you are going to get
well, or by God and all that's holy I swear I'll
have you up on charges of attempted murder and
anything dammed else I can think of. T'Pol get off
of him.!" roared Trip.

Malcolm stayed perfectly still and lay on the
floor unmoving as T'Pol agile got up and stood on
her feet. Malcolm knew he was in trouble major
trouble. He may not be exactly in his right mind
but he knew at least that much that he was in
trouble real trouble. He hadn't seen Trip this
angry in a long time, not since Earth was bereft
of a few million peoples lives one of them his
sister's, not since the shuttle pod, not since,
well he wasn't sure when. Trip meant it. Trip was
furious with him. He trembled and again he wanted
to die. He had never wanted to make Trip this
angry.

Trip was going to leave him now for sure.

He could feel it. He'd gone too far this time.

Why didn't Trip understand how far Malcolm would
go for him. All Trip had to do was ask and he'd
give his life willingly, even his freedom
willingly, all Trip had to do was ask it of him,
even if it meant going below as long as Trip
promised not to leave him; he'd do anything for
Trip. Anything.

He wasn't aware of the tears tracking down his
cheeks. He heard Trip rage at him and all he could
do was blubber. Trip ordered "Get up."

Malcolm couldn't he didn't have the strength to
stand up not when Trip was this angry.

"Get up." Trip hissed.

Trip picked him up by his shirt and slammed him
into a wall.

"I aint never been this angry before Mal. Aint
never in all my life been so angry with anyone
before now, not even the Xindi. If I ever get my
hands on that Trey'Van son of a bitch I don't know
what I'll do but one things for sure Mal, I'm
going to make him pay for what he's done to you.
Stand up. This aint you. Stand up Mal. Stand up on
your own two feet and march. March out of this
room and pack your bags, we're going down there
and this time, this time I aint letting you out of
my sight."

Malcolm cried harder and stumbled as he walked
weakly to the door. Trip marching his ass home was
embarrassing. The fact that he had almost tried to
kill not only T'Pol but himself was pathetic and
Trip was angry with him. Even if Trip said it was
Trey'Van he was really angry with. He knew Trip was
angry with him as well.

Angry with him because he had been too weak to
stop Trey'Van from doing those things to him. He
had been too weak to not go through with killing
T'Pol. He had been too weak to not follow through
on taking his own life. He was weak because he
needed Trip so much and Trip was being sucked dry
by Malcolm's weaknesses.

"I'm sorry." he whimpered. "Really sorry."

"I know Mal. I know." said Trip pain creeping into
his tone of voice as was exhaustion. He was at the
end of his rope and so was Mal.

---

The ports were being watched. Malcolm felt the
certainty of it more keenly than anything other
than his love for Trip. He sensed the malevolence
directed towards his love. He gave Hayes a severe
look and in hand signals gave him the order of
taking care of Trip. "Stick to him like a second
layer of skin" he signed.

Hayes nodded, "Will do."

The Betazed were magnificent to behold. They
hummed with good vibes, calm vibes, graceful
serenity itself. Malcolm sighed as they worked
their magic on him. He felt his anxiety quiet
little by little as he was greeted kindly and
respectfully by his three healers, M'thra'an
within their ranks as well though for some reason
he did not feel particularly hateful towards them.
They felt clean.

He reluctantly took his place in their small group
he was quick to give Trip a hug and a swift kiss
then scuttled back into the group. The leader
smiled indulgently and was careful not to touch
Malcolm knowing that touch might set off a series
of events that would do more to damage Malcolm's
healing as well as ruin the serene mood Malcolm
was in at the moment. At the moment Malcolm's mind
was absent of stress or pain, he was submerged in
their harmony.

"Your Imzadi will be well and waiting for you when
you return to him." she said with all gentle
confidence.

Malcolm smiled. "I think so. He told me he would
be. He promised me he would be."

"That is good. But than again you cannot doubt
Imzadi. Imzadi never leave Imzadi."

Malcolm thought that statement over, wondering
what exactly Imzadi was, and why she kept calling
Trip by that name.

--

A stressful couple of weeks went by. Trip was
concerned for Malcolm but from Malcolm's phone
calls and chatty e-mails Trip let the stress go
and this time focused on his missing friend.

Where could John have gone off to? Why hadn't any
head-way been made?

T'Pol and the M'thra'an officials were working in
a concerted effort now that proof had been brought
against Trey'Van and his crimes. Malcolm's pain
and the unsettled mind he now had spoke volumes to
the M'thra'an. This was a form of rape so
appalling, a kind of playing god like game, so
terrible that such a crime actually called for
death of the very mind of the one who had done the
mind-alterations.

"What do you mean by "death of the mind"? Is this
a physical death or a metaphysical one?" asked
T'Pol fascinated.

The official explained. "This is such a hideous
crime we had to create a form of punishment to
equal it. Very few know the techniques, because
many of us would rather be dead than have our
minds dead. But the one who does this crime is not
clean. That mind would taint and twist all in our
society and therefore he must not be allowed to
harmonize with society. All that he touches must
be cleaned and purified, we will find the rot and
root it out and burn the last hold he has on our
peoples. He will not be dead but his mind will be
shattered, he will never be able to share
mind-touch with another, never be able to feel
another mind or others feelings ever again once
the death happens. Many of us treat it like a true
death because in many ways it is so. We go into a
form of decline when our minds are burned out. The
body usually follows not long after."

"So, it truly is a death sentence?" asked T'Pol.

"Yes, in all ways that count. We revile killing
and are incapable of it. But mind death is not
true death, M'thra'an simply decline, the will
determines its own death. We do not murder. Though
we are capable of self inflicted violence and
suicide. Do not pity Trey'Van; his evil brought
this on himself. He inflicted the worst crime
possible on your crewman and on our people. He is
a predator, he is not M'thra'an anymore. He is
evil. We pity him but we are resolute in what must
be done."

"And his followers?" asked Trip anxiously. "What
will happen to them? When yous ay burn out, what
do you mean, exactly?"

"Depending on how badly the damage." replied the
Official. "Depends on how twisted the mind is that
has been left after his evil tampering. I grieve
our losses. I pray that there are less that have
been cemented to the ways of evil than I fear. I
do not wish to see more than Trey'Van face his
justice. Because they are truly victims and
Trey'Van is perpetrator, carnivore, mind-rapist,
mind-controller, all that is evil that we have
stood against for centuries. No matter how
misguided his intentions he turned to the wrong
and when you use wrong to do what you think is
right, than it is simply just more wrong.
Understand?"

"I think so." murmured Trip, pained.

Trip's life was in jeopardy.

Trip's first instinct was to rely on Malcolm. Yet
he knew that he shouldn't. Malcolm was not stable,
and yet, Malcolm's sole goal it seemed of late was
to depend on and rely on Trip. He sole concern was
for Trip and Trip's welfare. Hayes was doing his
best and was a very capable officer but he didn't
seem to have the fire that Mal had when it came to
a fight, especially fight to protect the man he
loved.

Malcolm was a paranoid, low self esteem,
doubting-thomas, who had a very good ability at
stalking his obsessions as well as dropping in at
the unexpected moments. He had a weird knack that
way.

Just like now.

Malcolm Reed was not in his uniform but dressed in
an off duty pair of blue jeans and a black
t-shirt. He took a bottle of the planet's version
of alcohol and lit the cloth wick in its cork. He
smiled a truly gleaming somewhat insane smirk.

"Here, have a Molotov on me – its all the therapy
I need." Then he threw it with force and accuracy
at Trey'Van and his little group of psycho
followers.

Archer was stunned. What had happened to his
security officer? Malcolm was chortling in delight
with every explosion, each one aimed for Trey'Van
in particular.

"Remember what we discussed about your anger?"
asked a woman gliding up beside Malcolm. She was
human looking but with exotic beauty and eyes you
could drown in.

"I am letting it out and aiming it at the one
directly responsible for it." Insisted Malcolm
calmly as if he wasn't tried to kill a group of
people.

She sighed. "Violence solves nothing. It has no
purpose."

Malcolm did not have the strength to argue with
her or to keep his attentions divided between her,
Trey'Van, and Trip. Malcolm's eyes though were on
his targets and watching Trey'Van step one step
too many and too close, he let out a loud growl.
"Get away from my Charles!"

Hayes aimed a phaser shot at the cult leader and
missed.

"Isn't it enough what you've done to us?" demanded
Malcolm, angry. "Don't you think you've done
enough damage to mine and my husband's
relationship? Haven't you brainwashed him enough
already? Get the hell away from him."

Archer gaped. Married? Trip and Malcolm were
married? When did this happen? Where had he been
while it was going on? He was the Captain, he
should have been there. Not to mention he was also
Trip's best friend, the least they could have done
was made him Trip's groomsman.

Trey'Van's hold on his followers was growing
weaker as the other M'thra'an attacked mind to
mind, ascertaining the damage inflicted to their
own and to the Captain of the Enterprise.

Archer was beginning to come to himself. He wasn't
a follower any more. He racked his brain and was
in shock. What the hell had possessed him to leave
his ship and crew? What the hell was going on
here? Why was there a fire fight going on? What
was happening between Trip and Malcolm?

"They are Imzadi, one cannot be one without the
other." said the Betazoid. "Imzadi is rare and
valued. They are Gods Blessed." she insisted
devoutly. "You will see your own Imzadi one day
Captain Archer. I already sense the beginnings of
it in you and the one your heart truly loves."

"What is Imzadi?" asked Reed, his attentions
diverted back to Emma'lianye Liadrae of the House
of Tri'ix.

"Is not easy to explain. There is not a word made
to describe it properly. But most simply it is
soul-mate. You are two halves of the same soul."

Malcolm smiled. "Makes sense. I never feel more
myself than when I'm with Mr. Tucker." He frowned
as true memory fought with forced memory. " I
mean, my Charles. My husband."

The Betazed gave him a sad loon full of sympathy.
"I do not believe you are married to each other Mr
Reed. I think your memories are starting to align
themselves and correct the imbalance caused to you
by Trey'Van's tampering."

Malcolm felt devastated. "But...  Yes, sorry, you're
right. All that meditating. Its true I feel better
but I'm not healed yet. I love Trip though. I
ache."

"It is only natural. You both will come to a time
when it is right for you to embark on the destiny
you have been given, each other. Imzadi is not
breakable, it is a bond that transcends even
death. Keep hope in your heart and help your
Imzadi to heal and one day the two of you will be
whole again. This I know to be true."

Malcolm sighed then let another explosive bottle
of fire fly. The battle was over in the next
moment and Trip was slamming into Malcolm and
hugging him tightly to his chest.

"Its good to see you so yourself Malcolm and the
Captain! You found the Captain. Thank god!" Trip moved
from hugging Malcolm to hugging Jonathan Archer, a
brother to him in his heart. "Thank God you're alright
Jonny. We were all so worried for you. Where have you been?
What's been going on with you while you were away from us?"

"To tell you the truth Trip, its all a little blurry."

"Let's get you to Phlox." insisted Trip, anxiety suffusing
his being again.

Malcolm sighed again. Trip turned to him and quickly took
his hand in his, he looked deeply into Malcolm's eyes, it
was a look filled with promise and commitment, it was a dead
serious look in his eye. Malcolm's heart triple timed its
beats. He thought his heart might beat itself out of his
chest.

Trip loves me.

It finally sank in.

Trip loves me.

The madness was passing but it would be a while before
Malcolm could go back on duty. It would be another three
months of intense therapy before Malcolm was more Malcolm
again, before he was finally in control of his body and
mind, and had his real memories and made peace with the
false ones.

Imzadi, a whispered thought, a caress of love that infused
both Trip and Malcolm and cemented the bond. Trip had less
sensitivity to telepathy than Malcolm but what tiny little
spark of it he had was open only to Malcolm just as
Malcolm's mind was open to his through sheer will. Malcolm's
talent was stronger than expected.

The Betazoids wanted to go to earth and search out more
empathy, telepaths like Malcolm so they could help them
cultivate the talent and help such talented to learn control
and defense as Malcolm was now learning. However the Vulcans
were known to the Betazoid and the Betazoids were not
comfortable with a cold people like the Vulcans and they
believed in keeping the treaties they had signed so they
would wait a long time more before opening lines of trade or
communication with the Humans from the planet known as Earth
and Terra. The Vulcans were cultivating this young race of
beings but the Betazoids were patient and knew that the
Humans could not be tamed. They were too passionate for the
Vulcans to control. A people worthy of getting to know
eventually.

---

The End