The BLTS Archive - Cold Comfort: D series: #8: Discursion by Kalita Kasar (kalitafic@hotmail.com) --- Beta: Haggy holds my hand, Red throws bunny chow. No beta as such. All mistakes must be neutralized before return. Special Credit/Thanks: To the wonderful MJ who helped me come up with the title for this story. You Rock MJ! Spoilers: Mild for Extinction Warnings: none this time...I hope Disclaimer: Well of course they don't *belong* to me, but they keep following me home. No money changes hands, no infringements are intended. Original plot ideas and characters not appearing in the series are mine and paramount can't have them, so there! Archive permissions: EntSTcommunity/warp 5 Tim Rueben, and the Author's personal website. Anyone else, ask first. Authors Note: I have nothing to say this time. --- Trip: --- It's over. The away team is back aboard and for the most part, restored to their proper selves. I haven't seen Malcolm since yesterday when I left him in Phlox's hands, still in the decon chamber and still only barely looking like the Malcolm I know. I've just finished a half day in engineering. Cap'n Archer offered me the day off, but I didn't want the whole day, I had a few things to get caught up on, so I worked the morning, but now I'm free. I took a shower and now I'm in the food stores. I need some peaches, and this time, I'm not sharin' em with T'Pol. I put three peaches into a stasis container and head for B deck. As I pass a couple of crewmen in the corridor I smile and nod. "Afternoon," I say, and I resist the temptation to look back as I pass. I know they've turned to watch me. I smile to myself. It feels good to smile; even if it surprises my crewmates. Malcolm has the day off today, and I've heard that he wasn't lookin' so good in the mess at breakfast time. Someone mentioned that he'd complained that the food wasn't agreeable with him. I figure maybe some fresh fruit is just what he needs. I stop outside his door and press the chime. It takes him a little while to answer and when he does, he's half asleep and pale and tired lookin'. Suddenly I wonder if I should've come. I wonder if he even wants to see me. I bite my lip. Really, the last few weeks haven't been so great. I hold the stasis pot in front of me almost defensively and try a timid grin. "I heard you weren't feelin' so hot," I mumble. "Thought you might like some..." He's staring at me and his eyes hold a mixture of about ten different emotions. I lower my eyes, swallow hard. I wait for him to tell me to 'bugger orf' as he says it. "Trip?" I look up and he's still standin' there, starin' at me with those dark, stormy eyes. He steps back and waves me inside, the gesture seems weak and he sighs. "Come in, please." My heart starts poundin' so hard I almost choke. --- Malcolm: --- I don't know why he's come, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't glad he did. He's holding a small container in his hand, which I recognize as a stasis pot from the food stores. I don't think I could really eat anything yet, but the gesture is sweet and I smile and take it from him as he steps inside. "They're peaches," he says as I lift the lid and peer inside. "Georgia peaches I had a crate shipped aboard before we left Earth. I figured since you're not handling the processed food in the mess, some fresh fruit might set a little better with your stomach." He's rambling, nervous but he's here and I can scarcely believe it when, after giving me the fruit, he doesn't just bolt. I stare at him, not knowing what to say. "Thank you." I pick up a peach and sniff it. I can't restrain myself from opening my mouth, taking the scent with my tongue as well as my nose and I glance at him a trifle apologetically. The mutagen is completely neutralized and poses no threat, but the instinctive reactions of the creature I became temporarily still persist. He grins and shrugs. "That's kinda cute," he says and the tension between us suddenly melts away. "It smells delightful," I say softly. "So eat it already!" I chuckle and turn the fruit over in my hands, seeking the right spot to bite and then sink my teeth into the flesh. Everything I have eaten since coming aboard has seemed bland and tasteless to me, tasting only of salt or sugar, or in the worst case...fat. The peach however, tastes so delightfully tangy-sweet that I think every salivary gland in my entire mouth goes into overdrive. I close my eyes, lost in the sensual experience of it and have devoured half the peach before I hear Trip's amused laughter. I paused and look up at him. I am sure I must present a sight...my face covered with flesh and juice which I attempt to lick away as he shakes his head at me. "You owe your life to a peach, ya know." He smiles and moves to sit on my bed, "And my sister." "Really?" I glance at the fruit in my hand and hunker down in front of him. "Tell me." --- Trip --- Watching his reaction to that fruit is kind of odd, and it's cute the way he puts out his tongue when he sniffs it. I think it's cute anyway. He tells me it smells delightful, and I urge him to eat the thing. Now his reaction to the taste of it is just downright sexy. He eats that thing the same way he has kissed me sometimes; hungry and demanding. It sure is somethin' t'see. In the end, I can't help laughin' he's obviously forgotten all about me, lost in the experience of something that is clearly agreein' with his stomach real well. He looks up then, his cheeks and chin all covered with juice and pulp, he was sure enjoyin' that peach. He looks a little embarrassed and his tongue flicks out, trying to get some of the mess off his face. I grin and move to sit on his bed. "You owe your life to a peach," I tell him, "and my sister." It's all I can do not to laugh again when without even thinkin' about it, he squats down in front of me and demands that I tell him. I give a small shake of my head and smile. "Why don't you come sit here?" I pat the bed next to me and he lithely springs from the floor, landing beside me lightly, but still crouched. I give up and begin to tell him how I saw Lizzie the night I went to get some of those peaches. He listens and eats at the same time, grabbing a second peach and attacking that one with the same enthusiasm. Sometimes he make a little purring sound, but I know, even though he's busy with the food, he's also payin' careful attention to my words. "Do you think she was really there?" Malcolm drops the stone from the last peach back into the pot and meets my eyes. "I don't know. I don't really believe in ghosts." "You don't?" he seems surprised and shakes his head. "I do." He doesn't elaborate, and I don't pursue it. We fall silent for a few moments and Malcolm wipes his face with his hands, licking his fingers to get all the fruit off them. After a while he sits down on the bed, cross legged. "I'm glad you came here tonight," he says. "Me too." I look into his eyes. "Malcolm I think we need to talk." --- Malcolm --- "Malcolm I think we need to talk." The words I've been longing and also dreading to hear for the past weeks…or is it months now, time has become blurred in my mind. I nod silently and he leans against the wall, kicking off the loafers he wears on his feet and crosses his legs, unconsciously mirroring my own posture. Neither of us says anything for several moments. I watch him, the play of emotions over his face, the way his eyes shine softly in the low lighting of my cabin, I can see he's engaged in some kind of inner struggle and I give him time to think. After a while, he stirs, rubs the palms of both hands across his face and through his hair. He turns to look at me then, and his eyes are so full of sadness that I draw in a sharp breath and swallow hard, wondering what piece of explosive matter he's about to detonate over us. "I'm so sorry, Malcolm," he murmurs and I tense, look away, waiting for the words I know will follow, the words that will end our relationship, our engagement…my world. I don't really blame him, *I* was the one, after all, who made the first move. I was the one who thought to shake him up by giving him back all the belongings he'd left in my cabin over the last few months. Did I really expect that he would come back to me as though nothing had happened? I draw a deep breath steeling myself and wonder why he just doesn't come out and say it. I look up at him. He's turned away from me, and his eyes are closed. I see the tears that stream over his cheeks, his shoulders tremble with quiet sobs. I want to reach out, to comfort him, but I can't seem to move. "Trip?" He gasps for breath and one hand scrubs at his face again. "I've been such a fool," he stammers. "I treated ya like...like you didn't matter, like you didn't mean anythin' to me at all. I...God, Malcolm, I'm so sorry...I was so wrapped up in my own misery I couldn't see what it was doin' to ya." He turns to me then, leans towards me, almost on his hands and knees. "I love you. Please don't leave me, Malcolm. I'll do anythin'," he chokes. Something echoes in my mind, I've heard those words before. I frown at him. Only recently too, and then I realize. His was the voice that talked and soothed while I was in the decon chamber. The voice my mind clung to through agonizing pain and terror. I move, slowly, tentatively reaching for him and finally pull him into my arms, nuzzling my face against his cheek, his tears salty on my lips. I close my eyes. "Trip...Trip. It's all right. I never intended to leave you; not for a moment...just... I couldn't do it anymore; I couldn't bear to reach out to you again only to be pushed away. I'm so sorry I hurt you...I...love you too." And then words are not needed any longer. Healing tears flow as we hold each other close and cry. --- Trip --- It feels so good just to be held by him, to feel his hands soothin' my back, to hear his voice whisperin' to me. When he tells me he never intended to leave me, it feels like my heart bursts. I hurt him so much that he didn't know how else to handle it. That causes another round of helpless sobbing. It feels good to let it all go too. I bury my face in his shoulder and bawl like a baby. When the storm of tears has eased off some, I push away from him a bit. Still in his arms, but far enough so I can look into his eyes. He's crying too and the sight of those tears wrenches at my heart. There things I still hafta say and I take a deep breath. I won't feel right until I have poured all of it out in front of him. "Malcolm," I begin and then I have to stop and clear my throat of the tears and wipe my face and try to pull myself together some. "Malcolm, I need to say some things...things I need for you to hear." I swallow hard and close my eyes. "I never meant any of what I did to hurt you...you gotta believe that, I...I'd never deliberately hurt you. I told you that after Kaitaama and I was sincere. I never would do anything again to hurt ya that badly, not on purpose." I pause a minute, breathing hard and he stays quiet and listens. "See all of what I did the last few weeks wasn't about anyone else but me, understand? I...didn't wanna hurt anyone, I just ... I didn't think it was right for me to keep on livin' and lovin' and bein' happy and do all the stuff I normally would do...not when Lizzie and so many...many others never would again." I glance up at him. He's still holdin' me close and fresh tears are running down his face. He doesn't even try to wipe 'em away or anythin' he just lets those tears fall and the sight of it threatens to bring me undone again, so I look away. "That night when I stayed here with ya, when we made love and then I walked out on ya..." I palm my face with one hand. "I couldn't help it, Malcolm...all I kept thinkin' the whole time was how I was usin' you, and how it didn't mean anywhere near as much t'me as it did you...I had t'go. I was lyin' to you and lyin' to myself and I just...I couldn't keep doin' that." "I know." He pulls me close, speaking soft in a voice filled with sadness. "I knew that you weren't ready, but I thought it might help if we were together that way. I was wrong. I shouldn't have pushed it." "No Malcolm!" I almost shove him away. "I won't let ya kick yourself about that! Ya only did what you thought was right! That's never wrong, darlin'. Don't you even *think* it was wrong or it was your fault in any way...Ever!" He nods and offers me a watery smile and then he pulls me close again. "I love you," he whispers. He loves me and I feel like I just came home after a long time away. I sigh and close my eyes, leaning into him and after a while, he eases down on the bed, lying there, holding me in his arms. There was more I wanted to say. Things I needed to get out and hope he would understand, but all of a sudden I'm just too sleepy and it can wait. I sigh and snuggle close to him, drifting in that first hazy cocoon of approaching sleep and somehow, I know that Lizzie is watchin' over us and she's happy...and there won't be any nightmares tonight. I'll tell him some other time why I don't think we can get married....but not yet. --- The End