The BLTS Archive - Strange Relationship: #7: Manoeuvres by Kalita Kasar (kalitafic@hotmail.com) --- Spoiler Warning: none Archive: Those with previous permissions Yes! All others please ask first. (note: the most up to date version of any of my stories will always be found, first and foremost, on my own website.) 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. Authors Note: The opening scenes of this part are similar to the opening scenes of Vox Sola, however, this is not a Vox Sola story, and in fact, I am not sure if Vox Sola even happens/ed in this timeline. I hope some of you will like the fact that this particular movie, at least in my universe has survived til this time and is still enjoyed by those who see it. I thought it was appropriate; both for Travis, with his love of horror and ghost stories, and for Malcolm, with his tactical mind. Enjoy! --- "Are you going to eat that, or make a table centre from it?" Travis Mayweather regarded Malcolm Reed across the table, his dark eyes shining with concern as he watched the lieutenant sculpt varying shapes in the mashed potato on his plate. "Hm?" Malcolm's head came up sharply and he blinked having obviously come back from a great distance. "You're playing with your food again, Malcolm..." Travis raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at the artistic creation on the armoury officer's plate. "Yes." Malcolm pushed the plate aside and laid his hands in his lap. "I'm sorry. I haven't been much company have I?" "Are you okay?" Travis took a mouthful of his own dinner as he watched the dark haired Brit. "You've hardly eaten anything for the last week. "Are you sure everything checked out when you went to see the doctor?" "I'm fine, Travis," Reed said firmly. "I've just...not been very hungry." "Uh-huh." Travis replied. "If you ask me, you should see Phlox again; maybe...maybe he missed something." "I _didn't_ ask you!" Malcolm practically snapped at the ensign and then he breathed a sigh. "Sorry. I guess I'm just tired." As he spoke, the lieutenant pressed a finger across the bridge of his nose, rubbing the place for a moment as he closed his eyes. "I didn't mean to snarl at you." Travis nodded and looked down at his plate, frowning slightly. He wanted to let Malcolm know he was there for him, and he would also like to see the lieutenant cheer up a little. "Hey, it's Wednesday," he said. "Why don't you stay and watch the movie? I don't know what's showing...some 20th century Science Fiction thing." He gave a winning smile. "C'mon, it's always fun to see just how wrong they were with the technology." Malcolm Reed met the younger man's eyes for a moment. "I might just take you up on that...it's worth a laugh to see some of the weapons they imagined we'd be using by now." "Exactly!" Travis grinned and finished his dinner, glad that Malcolm had decided to accept his invitation. It would at least get the lieutenant out of his quarters for a few hours. --- Commander Charles Tucker III was dog-tired, and yet he knew he wouldn't sleep. He'd been pulling double shifts for a week since the Shuttlepod 1 incident; doing anything to keep himself busy and out of the way of Malcolm Reed. To his surprise, he'd managed to not even catch a glimpse of the lieutenant in that time. Probably because he'd buried himself in engineering, sending staff members to attend to any requests from the armoury, or issues in the situation room or on the bridge. He sighed now, as he walked towards his quarters. He was getting a little tired of spending every off duty hour in his cabin. He couldn't avoid seeing Malcolm forever. Crewman Kelly had told him there was a good movie showing that evening, and hinted that he should take some time off to see it. He appreciated the gesture, and had told her he might do so. Faced with the prospect of another solitary evening in his quarters, he found the thought becoming more attractive. "Trip?" The commander turned to find Captain Archer approaching him along the hallway. "Cap'n?" He forced a small, tired smile. "Somethin' I c'n do for ya?" "No." Archer stopped when he drew level with the engineer. "I was just wondering if you're doing anything tonight..." He smiled. "You've been working too hard; I thought we might go and see this movie that everyone's talking about." "Yeah, I was thinkin' of doin' that," Trip replied. "I was about to get freshened up and then head up there." Archer nodded. "Good...care for some company?" "Yeah, I'd appreciate it." Trip's smile was slightly more genuine. "I just need ten minutes to get a bit more civilized." His glance took in his uniform. "Sure. I'll wait for you if you'd like?" Nodding, Trip turned to his door and keyed in the access code. He walked into his cabin and grimaced. "You'll hafta excuse the mess," he said apologetically as he showed the captain in. "I've been kinda rushed lately. Jonathan Archer looked around; mess was a good word for the disarray of Trip's quarters. The commander was not a neat freak by any stretch, but even this was way out of the ordinary for him. Clothing was strewn around on almost every available surface, and the small counter was cluttered with dirty coffee mugs and empty glasses. A half empty bottle of whiskey stood next to one of the glasses on the counter, and another, empty bottle was on the bedside stand. "Trip?" Archer turned to meet his friend's eyes, his own reflecting concern. The commander lowered his gaze. "I don't wanna talk about it, Jon." The very rare usage of the captain's first name told him Trip was serious. He sighed. "All right, I won't push it," he said, "But you know that I..." "Yeah; I know." Trip turned away and walked into the bathroom, not waiting to hear the rest of Archer's sentence. He didn't want to hear any more offers to talk, from anyone. So far, he'd had such offers from Hoshi, Phlox, and now his best friend. Everyone it seemed, except the person he really needed and wanted to talk things out with. Malcolm had not attempted to contact him. He knew, because he checked his messages at least ten times a day. There had been nothing from Reed. He went through the motions of showering, shaving and getting into civilian clothes as though he was on autopilot. Once he was ready, he walked back out into the living area to find Jon in the act of dumping the last of the stale whiskey down the sink. He frowned, glancing around to see that the captain had also picked up his laundry and stowed it into the hamper, and had rinsed some of the dishes. "Cap'n, you didn't have to..." "I wanted to." Archer cut him off and then waved towards the doors. "Shall we?" They made their way to the mess hall mostly in silence. Archer made one or two passing remarks about the engines and received monosyllabic responses, but he didn't seem too bothered by the engineer's reluctance to talk. --- Travis Mayweather moved to the chairs he and Malcolm had selected for the movie. He carried a large bowl of popcorn in one hand and balanced a small tray with two glasses of soda on the palm of the other. As he reached their seats, he handed the popcorn to the armoury officer, and carefully sat down, lifting one of the glasses and taking a sip of the chilled cola drink. He smiled at Malcolm. "I think you're gonna enjoy this." "I hope so." Malcolm set the popcorn on the arms of the chairs between them and accepted the glass of soda. He took a sip and then suddenly froze, his eyes changing rapidly from grey to almost navy blue as his gaze went to the door and the two men who had just entered. Trip paused in the doorway; captain Archer just behind him. Malcolm stared at the commander for several seconds, as his heart seemed to stop for a beat before it leaped into a rapid and uncomfortable rhythm that made him breathless. Malcolm tore his gaze away eventually and turned to face the movie screen, wishing that the lights would go down and he could vanish into anonymity at least until the movie ended. He shot Travis a dark glance. "If I find out you had _anything_ to do with this..." "No! I swear," Travis said. "I had no idea..." Further conversation was precluded as the lights in the hall dimmed and people made a last minute scramble for seats. Malcolm slid down in his chair, keeping as low as possible as the opening scenes of the movie began to play. He sighed, losing himself in the story. A ship named _Event Horizon_ had gone missing on a mission of exploration, and a rescue team were despatched to find and salvage what they could. Malcolm found his mind occupied with solving the reason behind the apparent psychosis of the team sent to find the stricken ship as one by one, they turned on and murdered their teammates. He forgot about Travis, and Trip and everyone else as the scenes unfolded. When the lights came up, Malcolm glanced at Travis who was leaning back in his seat, eyes glazed and a somewhat hazy grin on his face. "Man, have you ever seen so much blood and gore?" the ensign asked, as he turned to Malcolm. Malcolm smiled slightly. "It _was_ rather gruesome," he said. "Let's hope Enterprise never has a bad day and decides to take it out on her crew." "_Enterprise...Event Horizon..._" Travis tested the names on his tongue. "Hmm, you know, they almost sound too similar for comfort." He laughed at the look Malcolm gave him and got to his feet; stretching, he suppressed a yawn. "I should probably head out," he said. "I'm on early shift tomorrow." Malcolm nodded and stood up as well. He glanced around the room, and noticed the captain and Commander Tucker approaching. With a sigh, he steeled himself to greet them. Much as he would have preferred just to leave, it would not be looked on well by the captain or anyone else for a junior officer to behave that way. He plastered a false smile on his lips as the captain called out to him. "Good evening, Sir. Commander," he said politely as the two men came up to him. "Did you enjoy the movie?" Archer asked. "The special effects were something for its time, don't you think?" "It was an interesting storyline." Malcolm admitted. "I found myself wondering exactly what would turn well trained men against each other like that," He smiled slightly, "But the explanation was plausible." "'Hell is just a word. The reality is much, much worse,'" Trip quoted. "I liked that." Malcolm shot him a look, studying him for a long moment without speaking. Trip looked like hell. The lieutenant averted his gaze just as Trip's blue eyes moved to his. The captain smiled and nodded, seeming to catch sight of someone that he suddenly needed to talk to urgently. "Uh, if you'll excuse me," he glanced from Trip to Malcolm. He didn't say anything else, but moved away towards a small knot of junior officers who were standing near the doors in animated conversation. Malcolm watched Archer go, and clenched his jaw; looking for Travis who had also vanished. _I knew he was behind this somehow..._ Malcolm thought. _I'll kill him!_ "Malcolm?" Trip's voice was almost apologetic. He turned his eyes to the commander, but he didn't speak. "Look, I had no idea that they were gonna do this," Trip said. "If I'd known I...I wouldn't've come." He looked away. "But since we're here an' all...ah..." Malcolm blinked a couple of times; Tucker's quiet tone wrenched at him and he had to fight to keep his mouth clamped shut. There were so many things he would like to say, but he grit his teeth and lowered his eyes to the floor. He couldn't risk it. He didn't want to get tangled into yet another relationship only to watch it grow sour and cold before his eyes. He especially couldn't stand it because it was Charles Tucker who stood in front of him pleading for a chance. He swallowed hard, trying to push the sick feeling in his throat down as he turned away, still without speaking and walked towards the doors. --- The End