The BLTS Archive - Enough
by Kalita Kasar (kalitafic@hotmail.com)

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Date Posted: 6/23/03

Archive: Permission to archive granted to EntSTCommunity Tim Ruben,
WWOMB ReedsArcheryRange

Warnings: None

Beta: self edited

Spoilers: Regeneration

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the boyz, but the night belongs to us
pussycats

Author's notes: A response to the cuddles challenge...well okay it's
not exactly a cuddle fic but we evil queens can only go so far into
mush before we get sick to the stomach ;P

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When I close my eyes I can still hear it. The chilling sound of a
human slowly choking to death. It makes me shudder to recall it. Worse
than that, it wasn't just any human. It was Malcolm.

We boarded the transport with the stated intention of placing
explosive charges and we were so close to achieving that end when the
cybernetic alien attacked him. Before I could react, it had him by the
throat and had lifted him off his feet.

I couldn't risk a shot at such close range; if I hit Malcolm with the
modified charge it would kill him. Besides, they had adapted to our
weapons.

I can't remember what I thought. I don't know if I thought anything. I
only knew that that *thing* had Malcolm, and I wasn't going to lose
him that way. Not like that.

I'd seen what the nano technology was doing to phlox. God ... the
thought of Malcolm being infected ... but I can't let my mind go
there.

I attacked it, hit it with all my strength. The damn thing didn't even
flinch!

Malcolm struggled, his legs jerking reflexively as he fought to break
free. I went cold with a rage I have never felt before. I grabbed at
some cybernetic component and pulled it lose, I tore at the thing in
desperation until it let him go.

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Now, I'm waiting for him in my quarters. The crisis is over, the
transport destroyed, but it's a hollow victory. We only delayed them;
we didn't defeat them. I shake my head and push the thought aside.
There's no point in going over and over it. We did the best that we
could.

I can only hope that in 200 years Earth is better equipped to deal
with the threat.

The doorchime sounds and I turn to look at the door as I call for him
to come in.

He steps through the doorway, alive, vital...Malcolm.

Our eyes meet and he smiles.

"Sir," he says in that diffident way of his.

His tone might be reserved but his eyes speak volumes more than the
title relays.

I take a step forward and he moves to meet me. Our bodies come
together and our lips meet in a kiss filled with the reaffirmation of
our love and our unspoken bond.

When the kiss ends I hold him close and he buries his face against my
cheek with the whisper of a sigh.

It's enough.

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The End