The BLTS Archive - Dreams #3: Dreams Are Illusions by Kalita Kasar (kalitafic@hotmail.com) --- Note: Spoilers for Unexpected, Shuttlepod 1 and Vox Sola herein. Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. They were born in other creative minds, but they keep intruding into mine, so what's a girl to do? I don't make any money from this; it is just a labour of love for me and them. --- Commander Charles Tucker III walked along the hallway towards the Bridge Officers' quarters. As he moved he chewed on his lower lip, glancing briefly down at the gift he carried in one hand. He passed his tongue across dry lips and took a deep breath. 'I thought it only fittin' that I thank you...' he mentally rehearsed the speech he wanted to make to the Armoury officer and then shook his head with a muttered curse. He hadn't seen much of Malcolm in the week since they had stopped at the unnamed planet and dropped The One back on its home world. Malcolm had kept his distance, interacting with Trip only as far as duty demanded and no more. His careful reserve seemed, if anything, more pronounced than before and Trip had found himself wondering many times if all that he recalled from that day was just imagined. Trip shook his head with a sigh. 'It couldn't be,' he told himself. 'I know I was outta my head after that thing let me go...but when Jon and I went down to that cargo bay with Malcolm I was clear headed...a couple of beers with Jon is not gonna addle my head that much!' The commander had not been able to put the image of Malcolm's terrified eyes out of his head in the time that passed after the incident. He frowned. 'An' I know I heard him thankin' God for me bein' safe.' How he knew that Malcolm was referring to himself when he said that, Trip couldn't have said, but he knew it as surely as he knew his own name. And then there was the matter of the other emotions that had played through those gunmetal grey eyes in the instant before Malcolm fled. It was terror, and something else, something more important. Trip swallowed hard as he remembered it. No one had ever looked at him like that. Well no one except his mother, that is; many years before when he'd almost knocked his brains out in a fall from a horse on his uncle's ranch. Trip knew he wanted to see that naked, raw emotion in Malcolm's eyes again. He wanted to find a way in behind that mask of reserve. He knew he hadn't imagined that look in Cargo Bay Two and he planned to dig for it until he found it again. He arrived at the door of Malcolm Reed's quarters and pressed the door chimes. Biting his lips as he waited, Trip again glanced at the box he carried. He hoped that Malcolm would like the gift, a suggestion from Hoshi. He smiled as the door slid open and he found himself face to face with the Armoury officer, those smoky grey eyes regarding him for a moment before Malcolm said softly. "Commander Tucker." The soft, accented voice held a puzzled tone and Trip held up the box. "I uh... I wanted to see ..." his carefully rehearsed speech deserted him and Trip looked away. 'He didn't want to be one...' He shook off the plaintive voices in his mind and returned his gaze to the Armoury Officer's face. "I thought it was only fittin' that I should say thank you." He proffered the gift. "Oh, there's really no need..." Malcolm's eyes flickered to the box and then back to Trip's face. "Really I couldn't..." "Please," Trip said, holding the box out to Malcolm. The shutters were firmly in place, he noticed as Malcolm frowned slightly and took the gold cardboard box from him. "Won't you come in, Commander?" Malcolm stepped back from the door to give him room to pass. "Thanks." Trip stepped past the slim form of the lieutenant and moved into the room. He walked to a small sofa and took a seat, raising his eyes to look at Malcolm who stood near the door, staring at the box in his hand. "It sure is a pretty box," Trip remarked, "but the gift's inside...you gonna open it?" Malcolm shot him an unreadable look and nodded before he moved to a chair and sat down, prising the top of the box open with long, slender fingers. He lifted out the small, somewhat ornate looking bottle. "Pineapple Liqueur?" Reed glanced at Trip. "Yeah," Trip smiled, feeling a little abashed by the look in Malcolm's eyes. "I was gonna get you a bottle of bourbon, but the Capn's locked up his stash." Malcolm chuckled. "I can't say I blame him, really." "If ya don't like it I can..." "No. I like it." Malcolm smiled at him. "It's just a little bit out of the ordinary." "It was Hoshi's idea." Trip shifted in his seat, looking away from searching grey eyes that studied his face intently. "Well," Malcolm set the bottle aside. "Thank you." Silence fell between them for several minutes and Trip licked his lips nervously, unsure of what to do and feeling increasingly uncomfortable as Malcolm didn't seem inclined to talk. Trip started to say something twice but closed his mouth on the words, thinking that whatever he could say would sound forced and awkward. "I hope you're feeling better," The words were spoken so softly that Trip almost missed them. "What?" he frowned and then nodded. "Oh yeah. I'm feelin' alright. Glad to be...me again." He added with a smile. "Good." Malcolm clasped his hands together and leaned his elbows on his thighs. Silence again. "Malcolm?" "Yes?" Grey eyes met blue in a searching gaze. "I...heard what you said that day." "I beg your pardon?" Malcolm frowned. "In the cargo bay when...when that thing put me down, I...I heard you say ... you thanked God that I was safe." Malcolm flinched and looked away. "I didn't say that," he said. "I heard you." "No." Malcolm looked into Trip's eyes. "You're mistaken, Commander. I never said anything like that." "Look, I know my head was probably addled at the time, Malcolm," he insisted on using the man's name, even though Reed kept the barrier of rank between them. "But I know what I heard. There was you, and Phlox and...everyone was talkin' at once and...and you said, 'He's safe. Thank God.'" "What do you want me to say, Commander?" Malcolm raised one hand and placed the tips of his fingers against his temple. It was like he raised a force field between them. Trip swallowed hard. "I...don't know." He didn't. He had hoped for something more than this. Some kind of acknowledgement that what had happened in Cargo Bay Two, both before and after The One had seized him had meant something. He shook his head. Maybe he was mistaken after all. Maybe all of it had been the product of his terrified imagination. Maybe some part of him had just wanted someone to care about what happened to him, to care that he was safe. He sighed and looked at Malcolm who still hid his face behind that hand. "I'll go." He stood up. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to pressure you or anythin'. Just wanted t'say, thanks." Trip walked to the door, his heart heavy as the feeling of separation flooded in on him again. He sighed and reached for the control panel to open the door then turned sharply as Malcolm said something so low that he missed it. "What'd you say?" "I thought it." "You...thought...?" "Commander, no one said anything in the cargo bay when the life form released you and the others. It was ... quiet. Everyone just went on with what they were doing in silence. I didn't say anything; no one did, except Phlox. But...I thanked God you were safe. I thought it." Trip had to lean against a bulkhead for support. "I heard your thoughts?" He stared at Malcolm for a long moment in silence. It made sense. Weird sense, but sense all the same. He frowned. It wasn't the first time he'd had experience with telepathy. On the Xyrillian ship, he'd communicated with Ah'len telepathically, and he had known the thoughts of the others who were trapped in the cargo bay with him. He let out his breath. "Thanks," He said as he pushed away from the bulkhead. "At least I know I'm not goin' nuts." Malcolm finally looked up and met his eyes. Something unreadable flickered faintly in the clouded grey depths. "I'll...see ya." He stepped to the door and pressed the control to open it. Stepping out into the hallway, Trip sighed softly. He had got the answer he came for, hadn't he? Malcolm acknowledged that he was glad Trip was safe. No more, and no less. Maybe all the other stuff he thought he had seen was just wishful thinking - the constructs of a frantic mind facing a life and death situation. Sure. That must be it - just a dream. A fanciful illusion. The engineer thrust his hands into his pockets as he walked away towards his own quarters. Somehow, he was going to have to find a way to get used to being alone again. The others were coping with it, so what was wrong with him? He would just have to push all this to the back of his mind and try to forget it. Maybe Phlox would be proved right, and it would all fade away in time. He could only hope it would be sooner rather than later. This feeling of being separate was driving him insane.