The BLTS Archive - Strange Relationship:
#4: Factors
by Kalita Kasar (kalitafic@hotmail.com)

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Spoiler Warning: Shuttlepod 1 (by reference)

Archive: Those with previous permissions Yes! All others please ask
first.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. 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, tis but a labour fraught with love...theirs
and mine.

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Factor: One of the elements, circumstances, or influences which
contribute to produce a result; a constituent.
---

"T'Pol not joinin' us tonight?" Trip glanced towards the table in the
captain's mess where only two places were set.

"No. I gave her the night off, even though she won't admit it, she is
still recovering from that bullet she took on Coridan."

Trip nodded and moved to sit at the table. He glanced at the captain
briefly, noting the look in the man's eyes. "I've told ya, Cap'n. You
oughta stop mooning over that woman, she's never gonna warm up to ya
in a hundred years." He grinned as Archer met his eyes. "And before ya
ask, yeah; it's that obvious."

Captain Archer smiled at his friend as sat down, waiting for the
steward to set the plates in front of them before he picked up a
bottle of wine, offering to pour for Trip. "How're things going with
you and Malcolm?" he asked. He glanced into the blue eyes of his Chief
Engineer as he poured two glasses of wine.

"Goin'?" Trip picked up his glass. He avoided the captain's eyes as he
took a sip of the dark red liquid. The fact was, things were not
'going' anywhere between himself and Malcolm. He had tried several
times after they returned from Coridan to contact the armoury officer,
but each time he'd met with the lieutenant's personal messaging system
and Malcolm had not bothered to return his calls.

Archer nodded, taking Trip's prolonged silence as an answer. He picked
up a fork and stabbed at some vegetables. "You know he's applied for a
transfer back to Earth..." The captain trailed off at a strangled
sound from the other side of the table, and looked up just in time to
watch as Trip practically choked on a mouthful of wine.

"He's what?" Trip's face was scarlet as he fought for air. "What the
hell?" He paused for a moment while he caught his breath and composed
himself. "What'd you say?"

"I asked him to give it some more thought," Archer replied. "There
were still some modifications he had to finish up on shuttlepod 1."
The captain paused. "But he says he is ready to test them."

Trip swallowed hard, dropping his gaze to his plate. He struggled to
keep his voice level as he spoke through the anger and confusion that
had formed itself into a thick lump in his throat. "Well, at least one
of us has his head on straight." He met Archer's eyes. "Why the hell
does he wanna leave?"

"He didn't exactly say. I figured it might have something to do with
your relationship..."

"We don't have a relationship," Trip muttered. "Not now; not ever I
don't think. He was..." He stopped, not wanting to reveal too many
details of the brief entanglement with Malcolm. With a sigh, he pushed
his plate aside and leaned back in his chair; he was suddenly not
hungry anymore. "So you're gonna let him go?"

"If that's what he wants, Trip. I can't force him to stay, but I'll be
sorry to lose him."

You and me both, Trip thought, but he kept that to himself as he
reached for the wine bottle. Pausing in the act of pouring it, he
looked into his friend's eyes. "You got anythin' stronger?"

Archer nodded and got up from his chair, moving to a liquor cabinet.
He took out a bottle of brandy and held it up. "This strong enough?"

Trip nodded. "That oughta just about do it."

---

Trip rolled onto his back and groaned with pain as the movement set
off a series of plasma explosions behind his eyes. He winced, stilling
himself and passed his tongue across his lips. "Oh gawd..." he moaned,
"wha'himme?"

His mouth was dry and tasted of stale brandy and somehow he couldn't
get his eyes open. He raised both hands to rub his pounding temples.
"Any minute now, mah head is just gonna explode." He complained.

"Well, you did put away two bottles of brandy last night...followed by
half a bottle of beer."

Trip froze. "Cap'n?" Oh shit, he had overslept and missed the start of
his shift, and the captain had come to get him personally. Trip
struggled to sit up. "I...I'm sorry, Cap..." he forced his eyes open
and blinked in confusion to find that he was not in his own cabin and
the bed he lay in was not his either. "What the hell?"

Archer laughed softly, watching Trip from where he sat at the small
table near the door. "Don't worry, Trip. I was a perfect gentleman,"
the captain said.

Tucker nodded. "Uh-huh..." he swung his legs over the side of the bed
and rubbed his face with his hands. He looked up quickly as a sudden
thought struck him. "Was I?"

"You mean - you don't remember?" Archer's face mirrored sudden hurt
and bewilderment. He looked away.

"C-cap'n?" Trip tried standing up and was forced to wait until the
room stopped spinning before he approached his friend. Oh gawd, what'd
I do? He asked himself. He wracked his brain, trying to recall what
had happened the night before.

Biting his lip, the commander rested a hand on his friend's shoulder.
"Cap'n..." He applied gentle pressure, trying to get the man to look
at him. "Did I do...did we...oh geeze cap'n...I..."

Archer's shoulders began to shake and Trip hunkered down in front of
the man, seeking his eyes. "Cap'n you gotta believe me I..." he
stopped in mid sentence as he looked into the laughing green eyes of
his best friend and commanding officer. "Aww shit! You just dunno when
to give it up, do ya!" He playfully struck Jon on the arm. "You had me
goin'!"

Archer composed himself a little. "You were too drunk to make your way
home," he said. "I couldn't risk my chief engineer accidentally
letting himself out an airlock. You were asleep before your head hit
the pillows." He smiled and clapped the commander on the shoulder.
"But you'd probably better head home and freshen up. I want you to go
with Malcolm to conduct those tests on shuttlepod one."

Trip was about to protest but closed his mouth on the words when he
met the firm look in the captain's eyes. Jonathan Archer was not about
to listen to any argument from him. It showed in the depths of green
eyes that met his own for a moment and he nodded slightly. "Yessir."
He got up and grabbed his coveralls, slipping them on over the slept
in skivvies and walked barefoot to the door where he picked up his
boots.

Pressing the door control, he stepped into the hallway, still
snickering over the joke Archer had pulled on him. He shook his head
and headed for his own quarters.

"Good morning, Commander."

Trip almost froze in his tracks as the cool, accented voice greeted
him. He looked up sharply to find himself gazing into steely grey eyes
that slowly took in every inch of his appearance, from his unshaven
face, to the rumpled uniform and bare feet.

"I hope you had a pleasant night," Malcolm said quietly before he
pushed past Trip and walked quickly away along the hallway.

---

After showering and changing into a fresh uniform, Trip shaved and
went to the mess hall where he ate a light breakfast. As he ate his
thoughts were occupied with the encounter with Malcolm when he'd left
the captain's quarters.

That Malcolm had assumed the worst was obvious from the way the
lieutenant reacted, and Trip pondered how best to explain exactly what
had happened. A part of his mind also wondered why he should even
bother. He still smarted under the knowledge that Malcolm had applied
to return to Earth and had not even bothered to let him know.

He sighed, mopping up egg yolk from his plate with the last remnant of
a slice of toast. He was going to have to face Malcolm about this and
other issues. The probability of maintaining a professional working
relationship otherwise looked grim.

Trip pushed the last bite of toast into his mouth and picked up his
coffee, downing the last mouthful before he got up, wiping his mouth
with a napkin and headed for the launch bay. He was not looking
forward to this mission; if he could have convincingly pulled off a
sudden illness he may have been tempted to do so. That was not an
option though; the captain would know he was malingering and would
kick his ass for it as well. He steeled his nerves and stepped into
the lift.

Malcolm was already aboard the shuttlepod, running pre-flight checks
when Trip arrived. He glanced up briefly as Trip climbed aboard and
sealed the hatch. Catching a glimpse of the steely look in those grey
eyes, Trip winced; this was going to be one hell of a mission, he
could sense it already.

He moved to the back of the pod, occupying himself with the impulse
drive. They launched the pod and set course.

Trip turned from his console once they were underway and looked at
Malcolm who hovered over the nav console, tacitly ignoring him. He let
out a breath and moved forward. "Malcolm?"

"Sir?" Malcolm didn't look up from what he was doing.

Trip gave a slight shake of his head and sat on a chair behind the one
Malcolm occupied. "Malcolm, about this morning, I...I think you
deserve an explanation."

"Why?" Malcolm shot him a brief glance before he returned to his
console. "I don't think it is at all necessary."

"Well, I do." Trip rubbed a hand through his hair. "Look, Malcolm, I
know what you saw must've looked bad. I don't blame you for
thinkin'..."

"I don't think anything, Commander. It's really none of my business."
The lieutenant ran his hands across the console, conducting
meaningless simulations and diagnostics and Trip's patience finally
deserted him.

"Turn around here and look at me, Malcolm!"

Cold, blue-grey eyes met Trip's as the lieutenant turned to look at
him. "If you insist, sir."

"If you call me 'sir' one more time, I'm gonna..." A raised eyebrow
was the only response. Trip found himself thinking that Malcolm was
spending too much time with T'Pol.

"Whether ya wanna hear it or not, you're gonna listen to what I have
to say, Malcolm." Trip leaned forward, resting his elbows on his
thighs. "What you saw this morning looked bad. But, Malcolm, you gotta
know there was nothing going on there. I ... I had a few drinks last
night; I was drunk, the cap'n..."

"Commander, really I don't think..."

"Shut up, Malcolm! Just shut up and listen will ya?" Trip watched the
armoury officer for a moment, and then went on. "The cap'n let me
sleep it off in his cabin."

"How very civil of him."

"It's the truth, Malcolm. That's all it was," Trip said and turned
away, moving back to the aft of the pod. "You can think what you want,
but Jon and I have never been anythin' more'n friends." He glanced
back at the lieutenant to find him watching him with those steel grey
eyes.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment before Malcolm
looked away. Trip frowned and sat down next to the engine, leaning his
head against the wall and closing his eyes. His head still ached a
little from the hangover effects of his binge the night before.

Silence stretched between them for several minutes; each man alone
with his own thoughts.

"The cap'n told me you've applied to ship back home," Trip said at
last.

Malcolm stilled for a moment at his station. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Personal reasons," Malcolm said flatly.

"Right." Trip shifted in his seat, seeking a more comfortable
position. "Were you plannin' on lettin' me know?"

Silence.

"Malcolm?"

"I...don't know." Malcolm swivelled the chair to face Trip, and met
his eyes directly for the first time since they'd launched the
shuttle. "I don't know what, if anything we have," he said quietly.

"You don't know?" Trip sat upright, "_you_ don't know? What about me?
I haven't known where I am with you once, Malcolm! You want me with ya
an' then y'don't, I never know what's goin' on with you."

"That's not entirely fair," Malcolm protested. "You've done your share
of oscillating."

"Yeah, maybe you're right, maybe I _have_ messed you around a
little..." Trip took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. "But
you're the one who made all the noise about not usin' people. I feel
like you've been playin' with me, Malcolm." Trip looked away, staring
blindly at a computer console.

"I'm sorry..."

The apology was spoken very softly and Trip turned to look at the
lieutenant, meeting the other man's eyes and noting that the veiled
and wary look had softened. He sighed. "Me too," he murmured.

Malcolm nodded and turned to his console, tapping a control and then
glanced over his shoulder at Trip. "We're far enough from Enterprise
to start those tests," he said.

Trip moved to another console and tapped in a few commands. "Okay, I'm
good to go whenever you're ready."

"I'm scanning for a suitable target," Malcolm said, his voice all duty
as they turned their attention to the task they'd come out here to
complete. "There is a small field of meteorites not far from here;
we're within range." He tapped commands into the targeting console as
he spoke. "Target acquired; weapons locked." Malcolm hit a control to
fire the plasma weapons.

"Well?" Trip half turned in his seat, waiting for Malcolm's report.

The armoury officer nodded. "Direct hit."

"Nice."

"Yes. I think we should try it a few more times, just to be sure."

"Sure, I don't have anythin' else to do." Trip suppressed a grin at
the lieutenant's obvious enthusiasm.

A second test was as successful as the first and Malcolm's face was
alive with satisfaction in their success.

"One more for good luck?" Trip asked and Malcolm nodded, priming the
weapons for a third trial.

"Target acquired. Weapons loc..." Malcolm's voice was obscured as the
shuttlepod suddenly lurched to port, her engine racing as the system
fought to right the vessel and remain on course. Malcolm grabbed the
sides of his console to avoid being thrown from his seat.

Trip was not as fast and the sharp jolt to the craft had him tossed
like a rag doll to the floor. He lay there for a moment, gasping for
breath, the wind knocked out of him until Malcolm moved to help him
up. "What the hell was that?"

Malcolm returned to his station, tapping at the controls. "I wish I
could tell you, sir," he said softly, "but our sensors are offline."

Trip frowned, rubbing at his side as he made his way to Malcolm's
side. He stared at the readings on the console for a moment. "Whatever
it was, it seems to have knocked out one of the relays." He turned and
headed aft, pulling a toolkit from a locker and moving to remove an
access panel. "I should be able to get it back online," he said. "In
the meantime, you'd better hail Enterprise. Looks like we'll be
heading home earlier than we thought."

With a slight nod, Reed reached for the comm. panel and then hesitated
as a blinking light caught his eye. "Communications are out too," he
murmured.

"Oh great," Trip replied, taking a seat on the floor and pulling a
relay from the sensor grid. "Just what I needed to hear."

"I'll set course for the asteroid field they were going to map,"
Malcolm said, "At least we still have navigational control."

"Always a silver linin'," Trip remarked, busying himself with a laser
probe.

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The End