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

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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.

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Trip stood rooted to the spot as Malcolm silently turned away and
walked towards the doors. He muttered a curse and shook his head
slightly. If Malcolm Reed thought that Charles Tucker III was
desperate enough to chase him all around the ship trying to work
things out, then Malcolm Reed had another think coming.

Grinding his teeth in frustration, the engineer made his way over to
where the captain stood talking with Crewman Cutler and a couple of
other enlisted. He shook his head at Archer. "Nice try, Cap'n," he
murmured, "but I guess it just wasn't enough." He sighed and reached
for a glass of soda that sat on a serving table, taking a sip of the
beverage and wishing it were something a little stronger.

Archer turned to look Trip in the eyes. "This has gone on long enough,
and it's starting to affect the running of the ship," he said evenly.
"Work it out, Trip."

"But I..."

"That's an order." The captain turned away and Trip was left with no
alternative than to follow the directive he'd been given.

He sighed heavily. "Aye, sir." He put down his drink before he
sullenly made his way out of the mess hall and turned in the direction
of the nearest lift.

He caught up with Malcolm, who was waiting for the lift. "Lieutenant
Reed," he called as he approached the armoury officer. Blue-grey eyes
flicked in his direction and he noticed the sudden stiffening of the
lieutenant's posture. I don't like this anymore than you do, Trip
thought as he came level with the man.

"We need to talk...and I ain't takin' no for an answer this time," He
said firmly, and interjected as Malcolm opened his mouth to speak. "We
can do this polite like, in your quarters, or we can have a hollerin'
match here in the hallway; I don't care either way, but I am gonna
clear the air with you once an' fer all!"

Malcolm clamped his mouth shut and merely nodded once. He turned and
stepped into the lift when the door opened and pressed the button for
his deck.

In the lift, Trip turned to look at Reed. "That was damn rude the way
you stalked out back there...what the hell is goin' on inside that
head of yours?"

Malcolm glanced at him but said nothing.

The lift door slid open and Malcolm stepped out, walking briskly along
the hallway towards his cabin.

"Are you gonna say anythin' or is this gonna be like all the rest of
our conversations lately?" Trip caught him up. "Ya know I'm getting'
mighty sick o' listenin' t'myself yap!" He broke his stride as the
lieutenant continued walking as though he had not heard anything.
Trip's iron control finally snapped. "Dammit! MALCOLM!" he bellowed.

Malcolm stopped in his tracks and turned to face Trip. "Oh and I
suppose you think that what happened tonight is amusing? You can't see
it for what it really is; a poorly disguised attempt at interfering in
something that is none of _their_ bloody business?" He turned away,
jaw clenched as he made the final few yards to his cabin. "I never
could abide interfering busybodies!"

"Oh really? Then how d'ya feel about friends; Huh? Whaddya have to say
about good people who give enough of a damn about ya to try and do
something nice for ya? Well, Malcolm? How do y'feel about that? So
what if it was clumsy, what'd it prove other than that these people
care enough about your selfish bratty ass to try and make ya happy!"

"Selfish?" Malcolm's face was livid with rage as he turned to his
door, punching in the access code.

"Damn straight I called ya selfish!" Trip snapped as he followed
Malcolm into his cabin, not waiting to be invited. He gripped
Malcolm's arm and swung him around so that they were face to face.
"Every damn thing you've done for the last month has been
proof-positive that you don't give a damn about anyone other than
yourself, Malcolm!" He drew a deep breath. "Selfish is when you play
games with someone, pullin' em close an' pushin' em away
again...Selfish is when you get all snotty because someone doesn't
play your games your way an'...an' selfish is when you storm out o'
the mess hall with your ass in a knot after some friends try t'do
somethin' nice fer ya! Well A'hm tellin' ya. A'hve had about as much
of it as Ahc'n take. Grow up, _Mister_ Reed!"

In an instant, Trip gained a crystal clear understanding of why
Malcolm Reed was the chief tactical officer aboard Enterprise as he
found himself shoved backwards until he fetched up against a wall.
Before he could think or react, Malcolm was on him. One hand at his
throat, the fingers poised in a position that would easily cut off his
air should he move. Dark, stormy eyes met his; murder glimmered in
their smoky depths as Malcolm stared at him, holding him pinned there
against the wall.

"I could kill you in a moment, Commander," Malcolm breathed.

"I don't doubt it." Trip raised his chin a little as he spoke,
watching the man's eyes as they stared at each other in silence.

Slowly the lieutenant's gaze softened to something less dangerous but
just as wild. He growled softly in the back of his throat and then
leaned forward to claim Trip's mouth in a hard, bruising kiss.

Trip closed his eyes, moaning a response as he willingly parted his
lips to Malcolm's questing tongue. He felt the hand at his throat
change from a menacing claw to a gentle caress as Malcolm pressed
closer, pushing his thigh between Trip's legs and spreading them
slightly.

Tucker's breath was harsh when Malcolm finally released his mouth and
drew back a little. He smiled and passed his tongue across his lips.
"Does that mean I get to live a little longer?"

"I'll consider it," Malcolm whispered, leaning in to claim another
kiss.

Trip allowed the kiss but broke away after just a few moments.
"Malcolm, we hafta talk," he said quietly.

Malcolm sighed and released Tucker from the hold he had on him. "If
you insist," he said softly. He moved to sit on the sofa and Trip
joined him.

"I do insist, Malcolm. You know we have to work some things out." Trip
looked down at his hands, studying them for a moment as he searched
for words. "I need to know where I stand." He looked up and met cloudy
grey eyes. "I need to know what to think about...us."

"Is there an us?" Malcolm broke the eye contact, looking into the
middle distance for a moment. "After the last time, I wasn't sure." He
sighed. "You were warm and willing one minute, and then...you decided
you had to leave." He turned to look at Trip. "Why did you do that?"

Trip drew a deep breath. "I dunno; I guess I got scared. I wanted to
be with you, but not on the same terms as the day we destroyed
_Galileo_." He shook his head. "I want to be with you because I choose
to, Malcolm; not because you...command it or whatever the hell you
were doin'"

He watched as quick pain registered in the stormy eyes and Malcolm
looked away. "What? What's wrong?" He still marveled at how the
lieutenant could be so reserved on duty and yet in the privacy of his
quarters he was so different, almost as though his very soul dwelled
in those eyes.

"I thought that was what you wanted," Malcolm almost whispered. "You
said so yourself; you said you: 'like a man who knows what he wants.'"
The tortured gaze touched Trip's face and flickered away again.

"That's true," Trip said with a sigh. "I do like a man who says what's
on his mind." He chuckled, "but you were usin' a pulse canon where you
only needed a phase pistol." He reached for Malcolm's hand and took
hold of it, stroking his thumb across the pale skin. "I'm sorry if I
gave you the wrong idea...I tend to do that a lot."

"I've been such an idiot!" Malcolm pulled his hand away and stood up,
pacing the width of his cabin.

"No." Trip stood and moved to block the lieutenant's restless motion.
"We just didn't communicate, Malcolm." He laid his hands on Reed's
shoulders. "I'm as much to blame for this as anyone," he murmured.

"I'm not...good at this," Malcolm said softly. "I don't...share myself
easily...perhaps it would be better if we..."

Trip pressed a finger to Malcolm's lips and then followed it with a
kiss. "Let's not make any decisions just now, all right? We're both
tired; likely to be irrational." He searched the armoury officer's
face for a moment, seeking the answer in the grey eyes that met his.

"Stay with me tonight." Malcolm gazed into his eyes, "Please?"

"Yes," Trip said. "I'll stay."

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The End