The BLTS Archive - Mended
by Looneyluna (looneyluna2000@yahoo.com)

---

Warning: Nonconsensual

Sequel to: Possessed

Spoilers: Fight or Flight, Silent Enemy

Comments: Thanks to Jessica and Chrysa for letting me use Em. Very
special co-author notes belong to Josephine for the Jon and Em scene
in chapter two.

Archived to the Web site on 06/14/2003.  Archived at EntSTCommunity
with the author's express permission.

---

"Chief Medical Officer's Log, October 7, 2154. Lieutenant Reed came in
on his way to an away mission for a booster of what he has
affectionately termed Odeur de Hoshi. It's simply a precautionary
measure in the event that he get separated from Ensign Sato for any
great length of time. The Tempak, a race that has just achieved warp
capabilities, has invited him, Ensign Sato, Captain Archer and
Lieutenant Gomez to a banquet. We are the first 'aliens' they have
encountered and everyone is very excited about the first contact.

"Commander Tucker was slated to go, but he has been confined to his
quarters with a nasty viral infection. I'm still a little confused as
to how he got a viral infection in that particular location. But he is
not contagious and is following my instructions to the letter."

---

Captain Archer looked at his two armory officers and tried not to roll
his eyes, as they had phase pistols glued to their sides, Em's phase
pistol looking particularly alluring as the holster hung from her hip.
"You two really need to relax. It's a banquet in our honor. What could
possible go wrong?" He turned back around and made some adjustments to
the shuttle.

"Begging the Captain's pardon, but those are famous last words if I've
ever heard them," Em stated in all seriousness, earning a wide grin
from Hoshi, yet no response from Malcolm.

Jon looked toward Malcolm with a smirk on his face. His armory officer
stared straight ahead as though he agreed with his junior officer, so
Jon shrugged his shoulders and continued piloting the shuttle through
the billowy gray clouds.

The remainder of the ride down to the surface was made in professional
silence with intermittent noise coming from Hoshi 'tweaking' the UT.

"If you keep hitting the UT like that, it is unlikely that Commander
Tucker will give you another one," Malcolm stated, as he observed
Hoshi.

"I wasn't hitting it," she replied. "I was tapping it...with purpose."

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever you say, Ensign."

He had turned his back and was looking out the shuttle window. She
resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him, feeling like he
would most likely be the type to have eyes in the back of his head.

She sighed wistfully, frustrated, yet terrified of her growing
feelings for him. It had been almost a year since the rape and she had
been through all of the appropriate stages of coping. When she woke up
sore and bruised, her mind tried to trick her into forgetting the
brutality. She skipped right over denying anything had happened to her
as the nightmares and flashbacks started. But, her intuitive mind
would not let her forget and the hatred for not only Malcolm, but for
Phlox, as well, began. She had been stripped of any semblance of
control she purported to have over her life and she left Enterprise,
hating Phlox and Malcolm. Hell she even hated Jon for letting her
leave. But she had forced the issue of the transfer, and in the end,
she had won. Or, had she?

During the time aboard the Vulcan transport, she was able to forget
the past two years of her life, and, seeing as there was nobody around
to remind her, she did. But, the nightmares would not let her rest.
They did not subscribe to her attempt to establish a well-needed
serenity in her life.

Seeing she was troubled as she roamed the halls of the Vulcan
transport, the medical officer offered her medicinal help. Privy to
her medical record, he broached the topic subtly; at least for a
Vulcan he did, and suggested guided meditation to help her heal.

Luckily she had been through the stages of healing quickly due to the
circumstances behind the attack and her ability to see that it wasn't
Malcolm or Phlox's fault, but just damn stupid luck. Em gave her the
external mental support she needed to stay aboard Enterprise,
listening to her when she had her moments of fear and talking about
her own experience. It was difficult at first - being around Malcolm,
constantly reminded of the rape, yet not speaking to him about it.
Other than the brief conversation he had with her in sickbay after his
brush with death, he had never spoken to her about it.

Their relationship was one of utmost professionalism, and there were
times that she knew he went out of his way to avoid her. And that, in
itself, was the one thing that continued to hurt her, to linger around
her, regarding the rape. She wanted the camaraderie back, and he was
unyielding.

Eventually, she got up the nerve to approach Phlox about it at
breakfast one day. Witnessing the doctor taking an entire head of
lettuce and eating it one leaf at a time, she didn't pussyfoot around,
asking him straight out, "How is Malcolm doing?"

Phlox immediately shuttered his usually open expression and quoted
doctor/patient confidentiality.

Throwing her hands up in frustration, she got up to leave.

"But..." Phlox exclaimed, looking around the empty mess hall and
motioning for her to sit down,

"But, in an effort to assist in your continued healing process, and
hopefully... his..." he sighed and pushed his meal to the side,
dabbing his napkin across his pointed chin.

Hoshi remained silent, needing to hear everything. Her relationships
with everybody on the ship had progressed, but Malcolm remained
courteous, yet aloof, which drove her mad.

"Right after you came back, he had nightmares. They varied. Sometimes,
he would relive the rape. Sometimes, he would dream of killing
himself. He described a nightmare to me once where he was an animal,
killing its offspring. It was at that point, I enlisted the
Sub-Commander's help in assisting the Lieutenant in guided
meditation." Phlox took a lettuce leaf, shoved it into his mouth and
started chewing.

"Has the meditation worked?" Hoshi asked.

"It isn't a quick fix Hoshi, but I believe it has helped him," Phlox
mumbled as he chewed his food.

Relief flooded Hoshi when she heard about the meditation sessions. She
had run into Malcolm leaving T'Pol's quarters late one evening and it
had troubled her ever since.


The slight jarring of the shuttle as it landed brought her out of her
reverie. Malcolm was already opening the hatch when a delegation of
Tempak greeted them. Their world held little color in it as their
species were varying shades of white with long manes of white hair to
match. Their eyes, the only contrasting color of their being, were
red. Em joked that they looked like Porcelain dolls hyped up on
marijuana.

Hoshi readied the UT as the Chancellor of the People greeted them,
waving her arms around excitedly. Flashes went off in their faces as
the press snapped pictures of their world's first alien visitors.
Chancellor Katay moved her long flowing robes around each away team
member posing for the pictures.

"Welcome to Tempakia," Katay bowed in greeting, shouting the greeting
at a decibel that would make any stage actor envious. "You honor us
with your presence and we hope for a fruitful trade of ideas and
goods. Tonight, we will feast and tomorrow we will begin the tour. But
first, you must rest. We have prepared quarters in the People's Palace
for your arrival. If there are any questions or concerns, please
address my servant, Tyrrell. He will assist you with anything you
need."

Katay turned toward the other members of the welcoming party and
started to introduce them. Motioning to her right, "This is the
Minister of Defense, Minister Arnas."

Minister Arnas, dressed in a dull grey jumpsuit, nodded curtly in
acknowledgement.

"I wonder if it's my imagination or are his eyes a beadier red then
the rest of the Tempak's." Hoshi thought to herself, as she shifted
from foot to foot, amused with Captain Archer's inability to get a
word in edge wise.

"Pleased to meet..." Jon put out his hand to the minister.

"And this is the Minister of Health, Minister Maletye." Katay motioned
to the shorter Tempak on her left, who immediately jumped at the
chance to start asking questions.

"I was curious as to..." He didn't get much further as Chancellor
Katay interrupted.

"You can sicken them with your questions later, Maletye. They're our
guests, and they need their rest," Katay flourished.

"Well, actually..." Jon stated, motioning toward Maletye.

"Nonsense," Kataye waved her silver robes around irritably. "Our
guests need their rest! I will broker no more discussion on the
matter. Minister Arnas, will you please escort our guests to their
wing and make sure they are settled in?"

Minister Arnas straightened, clearly taken aback at having host
duties, but motioned for the aliens to follow him. "This way please."

Jon nodded his acknowledgement, almost afraid to speak because he had
been cut off so many times before. He followed the minister across a
courtyard that had gray hedges reminiscent of an old English garden.
There were marble sculptures and fountains throughout the maze, all
representing the history of the people they were there to meet.
Finally they arrived at an ornate door, trimmed in silver and gold. It
was set apart from the rest of the palace, which measured two miles in
length.

Arnas pushed the heavy door with ease and the servants gathered around
the atrium, which greeted the away team. The servants itched to touch
the colors that reflected off the aliens, the varying shades of hair
color, pigmentation and clothing assailed their sense of sight.

They scattered as Minister Maletye announced himself. "Stop gawking!
Yes they are beautiful to look at, but surely you have things to do,"
he chastised, and then quickly turned to the away team, smiling.

"Please, come in and partake of some refreshments," he grinned. "We
have lots to chose from."

"You shouldn't be so obvious, imbecile. They aren't stupid!" Arnas
projected to Maletye. "I trust you have the mixture right to sedate
them?"

Ingratiating himself to his hosts, Jon walked over to the ornate
display of Tempak delicacies, inspecting them with great curiosity.
"It looks delicious."

"The tactical officer is alert and on guard," Arnas stated, worriedly.

Maletye picked up a tray with white and gray marbles. "It is tradition
that we welcome new friends with a sampling of cloxan creams," he
stated as he held the platter to his guests.

As the platter came to Malcolm, he held his hands up in refusal. "No,
thank you."

"Lieutenant, it is viewed as an insult if you do not partake," Arnas
interjected, lifting one of the marbles to his lips and taking a bite
of it.

Hoshi and Em took bites out of their delicacies and moaned at the
taste. "It's like white chocolate," Em sighed.

Hoshi grinned and took a second bite of hers. "Come on, Lieutenant,
live a little."

Malcolm watched intently as she licked the white crumbs from her full
lips. She was turned toward Em and didn't see him catch his lingering
stare.

"Malcolm, you don't want to insult our hosts, do you?" Jon chuckled
and bit into his marble, pointing to the tray, as he raised an amused
eyebrow.

Reluctantly Malcolm picked one off of the tray and took a bite then
set it down. The sweetness settled over his tastes buds, and he looked
down to his uniform, swiping at potential crumbs.

"After they're sedated, I'll take the tactical officer and the
communications officer. He should have the specifications of their
weapons capabilities. I'll use her as collateral," Arnas smiled at
Hoshi and nodded even though his thoughts spoke to Maletye. "You can
have the Captain and Lieutenant Gomez for your experiments."

Hoshi could hardly keep from swaying as she felt the room spin. There
was a deafening ringing in her ears, and she somehow managed to sit
into a nearby chair.

Em saw her friend collapse into the chair and could feel the dread of
what she suspected as her vision and speech slurred. She saw the
Captain hunching over the table and finally slumping forward. She went
to help him but her feet were not cooperating and she fell to the
floor.

Malcolm watched in horror as the rest of the away team passed out. He
reached for his phase pistol and felt it gone, removed by the Minister
of Defense. He felt like he was on fire and tugged at the collar of
his uniform. He fell to his knees, helpless to do anything. Falling
forward, he fell asleep, disbelieving they had been duped by the
oldest trick in the book.

---

Malcolm sat up, shaking the sleep from his head, and feeling as though
he had been asleep for a very long time. As the last memory before he
succumbed to the tranquilizer surfaced, he reached for his phase
pistol. His hand met with a bare thigh, as he had been stripped down
to his skivvies, rendered ineffectual.

Movement to his side caught his eye as Hoshi groaned, turning over,
and giving him a tempting view of the rise and fall of her breasts,
covered in the same Starfleet regulation blues. Captain Archer and Em
were not in the cell, which consisted of two cots side by side and a
tiny sink for washing and a pan for other bodily functions.

"Can fate be any crueler?" he thought to himself as Hoshi sighed in
her sleep, pursing her lips. Here he was in close quarters with her in
his skivvies just like decon.

His heart skipped a beat as he thought about the situation. Gently
rising from the bunk he occupied, so as not to jar hers, he placed as
much distance as he could between them. He didn't want her to panic
when she woke up next to him.

He had devoted every extra fiber of his being in distancing himself
from her, trying to give her the space and distance she needed to put
the rape behind her. The one woman he has ever wanted, no, no, needed,
was unattainable to him because of ...contaminated gel.

He remembered that day in sickbay and clung to it like a lifeline. She
had given him absolution, giving him his sanity back.

The nightmares he experienced had been intense, causing many sleepless
nights. T'Pol had been his saving grace, guiding him through
meditative states, making him see his emotions and giving them names,
which was kind of ironic seeing as she was a Vulcan and didn't really
subscribe to emotional ideologies.

He met his guilt head on, identifying it and absorbing it into his
psyche, in essence -- forgiving himself. There was only one piece of
the guilt that remained unresolved. He had left her alone to decide
the fate of their child, a decision that she resented having to make
alone.

He had failed her in so many ways. He hoped he didn't fail her again.
The sound of a heavy door opening then closing captured his attention.
A scraping of keys against their door sounded and the door was pushed
open to reveal Minister of Defense, Arnas.

"Good, you're awake," he stated and motioned to Malcolm with a stick.
"Follow me, and you won't get hurt."

Malcolm walked through the door waiting for an opportunity to escape
or overcome his captors but there were guards at every third door.

Arnas walked briskly ahead of him with purpose and motioned to Malcolm
to walk into another cell. It looked like an interrogation room.

Malcolm sat in the chair in the middle of the stark white room,
keeping his mouth closed, determined not to say anything.

"Tell me about the armaments onboard Enterprise." Arnas stated,
hitting his hand with his 'weapon' in a threatening manner.

Malcolm raised his chin and looked straight ahead, not answering.

Not known for his patience, he backhanded Malcolm, knocking him from
the chair. He stuck him with the stick he carried and administered a
high voltage electric shock to his side.

Malcolm moaned in pain, balling up as the electricity ran through his
body. As Arnas stood there waiting for Malcolm to make up his mind,
Malcolm climbed back up into the chair and readied himself for another
volley.

Surprisingly, Arnas put his baton up and clicked on a monitor above
his head. On the monitor, Hoshi slept peacefully, unaware. "Shock
her!"

Before Malcolm could suck in breath to protest, a guard jabbed a shock
stick into Hoshi's side causing her to scream and writhe in pain.

"What do you want to know?" he asked blandly, trying not to cringe as
he heard Hoshi cry out. He would need to ask more detailed questions
if he wanted detailed answers.

Arnas leaned forward, his eyes flashing red against his luminescent
skin. "What is the maximum yield of your phase cannons?"

Malcolm sighed, "Eighty gigajoules." He dreaded when Arnas started
asking classified questions. By his actions, Hoshi would be hurt,
maybe even killed, for he knew he would sacrifice both of them to
protect the rest of the crew.

'Commander, continue the exercise. Just make sure you keep her alive,'
Arnas instructed telepathically. He wanted to have the opportunity to
verify the information that Lt. Reed provided today, and at the same
time establish the seriousness that would occur to his subordinate if
he failed to comply.

"Just don't hurt her," Malcolm wanted to say, but refused to let Arnas
see his weakness. Fear that it was too late niggled at the back of his
head. The last thing he needed was more guilt associated with Hoshi
over something he had done.


The pain stopped registering after the third blow to her face. It
seemed the more she pleaded for her attackers to stop the harder they
hit her. The burn and sting of the stun stick reverberated through her
rib cage, contracting her abdominal muscles into painful knots.

Questions flew around in her mind, wanting to know why she was being
beaten. She worried about Jon, Em and especially Malcolm. Her concept
of time abandoned her upon the first shock the Tempakian guard
administered, and she prayed that Malcolm was safe aboard Enterprise,
or at least close by. She prayed that there hadn't been a
miscommunication on her part. What if she hadn't caught something
inherent to the Tempakian language that had caused all of this? What
if the others were dead? Dead, because of her inability or her
negligence.

Hoshi prayed for oblivion to claim her, but suddenly she was granted a
reprieve.

"That should be sufficient to drive the point home," a voice stated to
another person in the room, who readily agreed.

And they left, leaving her broken and bruised without answers.

---

Slowly, Em blinked her eyes, trying to figure out why she was lying
with her cheek pressed to a cold metal bunk. Easing herself up, she
looked around to see she was in a kind of cell. As her eyes swept the
room, she saw Captain Archer.

Buck naked.

With a start Em realized that she too was nude, scrambling for the few
blankets in the cell she covered up Captain Archer, but first not
without taking a moment to admire the view. She had always known the
Captain was, as her grandmother would have said, a 'fine figure of a
man', but she hadn't realized that the uniform they wore hid such a
knee weakening physique.

Wrapping her own blanket around her, Em walked over to the doorway and
took stock of their situation. The last thing she remembered was the
refreshments they were enjoying and the sinking sensation they had
fallen for the oldest trick in the book.

Em turned her back to him as he groaned, giving him time to realize
the state of undress he was in.

"Lieutenant?" Jon's voiced questioned with a bedroom quality to it.

"Sir?" Em faced Archer, trying to keep the blush from creeping up her
neck as she took in the dense hair that covered his well-toned
pectoral muscles. She dropped her eyes to the floor.

"Where are we? And where are our clothes?" he asked. At first, all he
noticed was her bare back to him, and then the swell of her buttocks
as they peaked out from under the inadequate blanket that she held.
Panic that he had given in to his feelings for her surfaced.

He would never forget when she reported for duty, a last minute
edition to the crew, and a former and highly recommended colleague of
Malcolm's. Her dark hair was twisted loosely at the nape of her neck
and tendrils had escaped, framing her face, accenting the soft angles
of her cheekbones and arch of her brow. But most striking about her,
was the bow and fullness of her lips, especially when she smiled. The
uniform with red piping did little for her figure, but did manage to
accent the flair of her hips and breasts. That was as far as Jon had
let his thoughts continue as she handed him the pad, informing him of
her transfer. After all, she was 'his' junior officer, and he couldn't
act on the attraction he felt for her.

"I don't know, sir, I just woke up myself." Em paused then looked up
quickly, turning her head toward the door. They both heard the
footsteps coming down the hall. There would be no more time for
questions, as the door was opened and their 'hosts' joined them.

Em placed herself strategically between Jon and the door, determined
to do her job and protect the captain, even if she didn't have a
stitch of clothing on her.

What the hell she thought she was doing was a mystery to him, as he
received a close up view of her backside as the blanket dipped lower
still.

"Oh good, you're up." Em recognized the alien as the Minister of
Health. Before either crewmember had a chance to react, the door was
opened and Em was pulled roughly from the cell by one of the guards.
Jon leapt forward, but the door was slammed shut before he was halfway
across the room.

"Maletye, isn't it?" Em asked with more bravado than she felt, the
cool wind in the hallway chilling her to the core.

"Minister Maletye." The Tempak insisted, pulling the blanket away from
Em's body as she stood there fuming and shivering. There were too many
guards around to allow her to take out her frustrations on the jerk in
front of her.

"You are different from him." Maletye looked from Em to the door that
Jon pounded on.

"I'm a female, he's a male," Em said slowly. "Don't you have males and
females here?"

"No," replied the Minister, still looking over her assets. "We are all
the same. What are these for?" He reached out and hefted one of Em's
breasts.

Em took a steadying breath, trying hard not to step away or beat the
hell out of this idiot. She needed to keep her wits about her in the
event that an opportunity to escape presented itself. Now was not the
time for panic.

"They're called breasts. When females give birth, they produce milk to
feed the baby." She talked to Maletye like he was a curious child. The
feel of him groping her didn't feel sexually aggressive so she was
able to remain calm, even though she kept fixating on the weapons his
guards carried.

Maletye motioned for the guards to let Jon out of the cell. Once the
door opened and Jon was hefted out, he commanded, "Drop the blanket."

Jon's stare of concern smoldered as he took in the dark olive curves
of his security officer that had been hidden away from him for two
years.

Reluctantly, but not wanting to argue this small point, Jon let go of
his blanket, already halfway hard.

Looking back at Em, Maletye ran a hand over her hips and the dark
triangle between her legs. "You are rounder then he is. And while he
has no breasts, you have no ..."

Em startled as the alien's hand brushed over her femininity.

"It's called a penis, and below it is the scrotum, which holds the
testicles." If the situation weren't so bizarre, Em would be laughing
her ass off by now. On the other hand, she couldn't help but feel
disconcerted regarding the alien's exploration of her body.

"What are they for?" Maletye reached forward to inspect Jon's
testicles, but Em stepped between them, trying to spare him the
indignity of being groped.

"Ah, the testicles create sperm. When the sperm meets up with the egg
that the females create, then a baby is formed." Em was sure she was
blushing and thankful that she had her back to the Captain.

"You need a male and a female to create offspring?" Maletye frowned at
this revelation, and lifted her arms, inspecting her further. "How
does the 'sperm' get into the female?"

"The male inserts his penis into the female and ... deposits it in
her." Em knew she was blushing now, feeling the stare of her
commanding officer on her back.

"Where does he insert the penis into the female?" Maletye looked Em up
and down, and turned her around, facing Jon, like he was expected to
see a sign pointing the way.

Em couldn't look her commanding officer in the eye, embarrassment and
nervousness consuming her.

"Umm ..." This was taking it a little too far, and Em wasn't sure how
to continue.

"Where?" A hard edge had crept into Maletye's voice as his hands ran
through Em's hair.

Jon answered him and grabbed Em by the shoulders, hugging her to him.
"We gave you a sampling of human biology in our data base. If you wish
for a demonstration of human sexual intercourse, I will be more than
happy to have the comm officer send you some...um...material on the
matter. Now leave her alone!"

Maletye ignored the Captain. "Where?" he repeated, literally breathing
down her neck, causing panic to claw at her insides.

"Where the legs meet the body," she said in a low whisper against the
Captain's neck, closing her eyes, trying to wake from this absurd
dream.

"Show me." The tone of Maletye's voice grew more menacing.

Em just stood there, not quite believing her ears, taking small
comfort as the Captain's arms squeezed her to him.

With a jerk of Maletye's head, Em was ripped out of Jon's arms by one
of the guards, and dragged to a table. Terror seized her and she
started to kick and scream. Another guard spread her legs while
Maletye examined her, running his cold, hard fingers between her
folds, spreading them for further examination.

"Em!" A sizzling sound accompanied Jon's voice as he struggled against
his guard earning a shock from the baton.

Em could barely hear anything as the roar of the past swallowed her.
The harsh, taunting voices, as they pointed the guns and knives toward
her, whispered vulgarities to her, and she was stripped of any
semblance of control she alluded to.

"There are three holes there. Which one is it?" Maletye questioned,
wiping his fingers onto a rag. His cold eyes met Em's, bringing her
back to the present.

"The middle one," she stammered trying to get her emotions under
control as Maletye walked between her legs for a further inspection,
spreading her legs further. She tried to scream, but her voice
wouldn't cooperate, rendered ineffectual by the torment that gripped
her. She shook her head back and forth, trying to maintain some
semblance of control. She had to protect the Captain. She had to...

Maletye thrust one of his long, slender fingers into her and she cried
out. "Please stop!"

"The male inserts the penis here? It looks too small. Show me."
Standing up, Maletye gestured to Jon, still keeping a weapon trained
on him.

Grasping his side, Jon walked over to Em as though he would comply.
The guards released her and she lay there trembling.

"Show me." Maletye repeated, impatiently.

"No." Jon's voice was cold, his face a mask.

Maletye raised his weapon.

"No." Jon repeated, refusing to harm Em any further. He could see her
distress as Maletye forcibly examined her. He wanted to kill him.

Realizing he was being counterproductive, Maletye activated a screen
on the wall. On the screen, Malcolm was being interrogated by Arnas.
Jon stiffened and Em managed to turn her head and take notice.

"Minister Arnas, would you please exterminate the prisoner at once?"
Maletye requested, without batting an eyelash.

Arnas lifted Malcolm's phase pistol to the Brit's temple, getting
ready to fire.

"Captain ..." Jon and Maletye turned to Em, who had somehow managed to
gather her wits about her and was now sitting up on the table. "Don't
... it's all right." She faced the Minister and squared her shoulders.
"Not here. Not with ... them around," she whispered shyly, her eyes
sliding over the guards, nervously.

"You are reluctant? Arnas, lower the weapon and carry on." Maletye
instructed and turned off the screen.

At least they knew Malcolm was alive.

"No matter." With a wave of his hand Maletye motioned Em and Jon to
precede him into a side room, one guard coming with him. Em sighed in
resignation to having him there. Wincing slightly as the door shut on
the four of them.

"Show me," menaced Maletye, waving a shock stick toward them.

"It's not that simple." Em stated tentatively, looking over at Jon's
tense form, his erection not up to the task yet. "It's going to take a
little time." She moved close to Jon, wrapping her arms around his
neck, hesitantly, knowing she could do this.

"Em ..." He looked into her wild eyes, regret in his own.

"Hush," she said, before pulling his head down for a kiss. She licked
at the outline of his lips, easing her tongue between them, knowing
she would need to entice him to arousal so the demonstration could
proceed. She gasped in surprise as Jon crushed her body to his,
opening his mouth to plunder her own.

Em's knees buckled at the feel of his body against hers. She had
wanted him, but knew a relationship was out of the question since he
was the Captain. Besides, how do you make a move on your commanding
officer? And while this was NOT the way she would have wanted him the
fact is she was about to have him.

Em gasped as Jon's hand came up to cup her breast, the fingers teasing
the nipple. She moaned into his mouth as he rolled the hard nub,
pulling slightly at it.

"Does what he is doing hurt?" Maletye's voice was a dash of cold
water, and Em pulled away from the kiss.

"No." Em shook her head, trembling. "It feels good," she stated
huskily, still not daring to look into her soon-to-be lover's eyes.

"I thought the breasts were for feeding the offspring," the Tempak
observed, circling around them.

"They are, but they're also erogenous zones. When the males touch
them, when you want him to touch them, it feels good," she gasped as
she felt his teeth and tongue nipping at her neck.

She panted as Jon nipped at her earlobe and whispered, "I'm so sorry."
The feel of her nails raking over his muscled chest caused more blood
to rush to his hardened cock.

Jon picked Em up and set her on the edge of the table and he paused,
giving her the opportunity to say no. "Em?"

Em grasped his erection in her hand, guiding it to her. "Just do it,
Jon." In one slow thrust he was in her, filling her dampness.
Shuddering at the feel of him, Em lifted her legs to wrap them around
his hips, urging him on, gasping as he pulled out, and then pushed
back in. Submerged in the exquisite friction he was creating, Em
didn't hear Maletye until the Tempak repeated himself.

"I can't see. You're supposed to be showing me." Maletye said
irritably, jockeying for a better of view of the intimacy.

Jon withdrew from her and Em slid up the table at his urging,
shivering at the loss. She waited nervously as he moved behind her,
slightly spooned against her back. Jon lifted her top leg up, slipping
back inside her as Maletye watched intently.

"Ah, Dios ..." Em threw her head back against Jon's as he moved inside
her, his mouth coming down to nip at her shoulder, his hands gripping
her breast and her hip.

Jon could barely contain his enthusiasm as he pressed into her. This
paled in comparison to the dreams he had about her.

"Has he deposited the sperm yet?" The nagging voice persisted.

Em raised her head and tried speaking, but her emotions had overcome
her. The fear and panic of the weapons and of having this forced on
them, made the sensations racking her body bittersweet at best.

"Not yet," Jon ground out. His breath was coming in pants, as he
pushed into her gently.

"I want to see that too," Maletye insisted, looking intently at the
odd angle of the coupling.

Em wanted him to shut up. If it weren't for that nagging maggot, she
could have at least made herself imagine that the gentle pleasure
building within her actually meant something to the man who filled her
so completely.

"I'm gonna come, Em ..." Jon whispered against her ear, feeling her
shudder in his arms.

Sliding him out, Em kept Jon's erection pressed against her as he
continued to thrust. Jon bent his head to her shoulder, biting down
slightly, trying to contain his shout as he came, semen splashing all
over Em's hand and stomach, leaving her unfulfilled.

Maletye frowned. "How can the sperm get to the egg if it is deposited
outside the female's body?"

Em closed her eyes, frustrated and shamed. "It's supposed to be
deposited IN the female's body, but you wanted to see the male
ejaculate. And you can't see that if he's inside me."

"Oh. Do it again then." Maletye shrugged his shoulders and
concentrated on their lower extremities.

"I can't." Jon sat up behind her, looking for a blanket to cover Em's
shivering form and looking at Maletye. "I need to rest. I can't ...
ejaculate one right after another." Getting up off the table, he
placed Em behind him. "Are you done with us now?"

Maletye huffed, frustrated with the limitations of human biology. "How
long will that take?"

"Several days," Jon lied, even though he was feeling up taking her
again.

"You have until tomorrow morning," informed Maletye. If you are not up
to the task, your friends will be executed.

---

She could hear the heavy footsteps of three men. She readied the metal
rod she had managed to rip off of the metal bunk, her eyes adjusting
to the darkened cell, ready to strike out at the light that peaked
from under the door. She would be dammed if she would not defend
herself against another violent session. Her head still swam and her
vision was a bit blurred because of the swelling of one of her eyes.
Licking her split lip, she tasted the dried blood.

After the assault, she cowered in the corner, caught in the grip of
terror of the rape. The loss of control, as they pounded on her
without cause or provocation, astounded her. At one point she even
passed out.

But now, she was awake, and aware, and itching for payback.

The metal scrapeing of the door opening made her wince as the shrill
sound penetrated her sensitive hearing.

It was dark out by the time he was escorted back to his cell. They
shoved him roughly into the cell, and he stumbled, praying this was
the same cell he came from - the one that held Hoshi. He heard a clang
of metal against cement and then a relieved gasp.

"Thank God! You're with me. Have you seen the Captain or Em? Are they
okay? Are you okay?" Hoshi rushed up to him, stepping into the sliver
of light he stood in and running her hands over his physique, checking
for injuries.

Malcolm couldn't contain his shock as he saw her split lip, swollen,
blackened eye and puffy cheek. Involuntarily, his hand touched her
cheek and wiped a panicked tear that wept from the blackened eye.

On instinct, Malcolm ran his hands down her body, ascertaining more
injuries. Her hands steadied on his shoulders and she bowed her head,
wincing as he pressed against her ribcage. He immediately backed off,
his breath ruffling her hair.

He could feel his cool, professional demeanor slipping, as it always
did around her. Feelings warred within him. First and foremost was
concern for her. He hated to press any harder on her ribcage, but he
had to determine if any were fractured. He pulled away from her,
detesting the strangled moan she made. It was his fault. He should
have been the one beaten, not her. Secondly, he felt a rage; one that
he had only felt once before -when he raged against the beast within.
But this time, it was directed toward the Tempak.

Guilt over her condition wavered briefly, reminding him that he had
failed to protect her yet again.

"Hoshi, you need to lift your shirt, so I can see your ribcage. I'm
going to have to press harder to ascertain if there are any broken
ribs. Are you having any trouble breathing?" he asked, the timbre of
his voice wavering as he tried to control the feelings that encroached
upon him.

"I-I don't think any are broken," she whispered, suddenly aware of his
proximity and his hands. She winced as he pressed down, gritting her
teeth and focusing on the wall behind him.

When he pulled back, Malcolm breathed a sigh of relief. "They're not
broken, just bruised. Walking over to the sink, he fondled in the dark
for the knobs and turned the water on. He took his shirt off and tore
it, wetting it in the cold water.

Hoshi sat on the bed, tired and worn, her head throbbing and her eyes
closed. Before she knew it, Malcolm was pressing the cool cloth onto
her face gently.

"We need to get the swelling down and you need to lie down," he stated
simply. "Hoshi?"

She mumbled sleepily and leaned into his hand, slightly aware that his
arm wrapped around her and was lowering her gently onto the bed.
"What?"

Shaking her slightly, he demanded she stay awake. "You might have a
concussion. You need to stay awake. Do you understand me, Ensign?"

"Yes."

She yearned for sleep.

"Wake up, Ensign!"

Hoshi wanted to smack him for pushing her and was barely able to
suppress the desire to tell him so. Instead, she mumbled something
about her father and closed her eyes. "I'm so tired."

Malcolm heard her plea to be left alone, but he pressed the cool rag
onto her eye. "Did you pass out at any time, after they...?"

"No...yes...I don't know. I don't care. The important thing is that
you're here... with me, and ..." With every word she muttered, she
touched him - his shoulder, his chest and abdomen, and finally his
thighs - as though reassuring herself that he was real.

Gently, he corralled her hands and placed them to her sides hearing
her thanking God that he was real and apologizing for not being
stronger. He shushed her ramblings, placing a finger over her lips,
avoiding the slight cut that marred their perfection. "You're stronger
than you give yourself credit for," he whispered.

He settled next to her, knowing he would get no sleep tonight.

---

Em held the blanket around her like a gray shield, trying to obstruct
the press of memories that swarmed around her. The weapons - the stun
sticks and the phase pistol pressed against Malcolm's temple - sparked
the memory of her rape like a match to the matchbox. Standing up, she
crossed to the sink wanting a sip of water. A sip was all she thought
she could tolerate as her throat was parched, yet her stomach sour
after the events that transpired fifteen minutes ago.

"I did what I had to do," repeated over and over again in her head.
There was still no reasoning, no common sense regarding the alien's
behavior, other than scientific curiosity. The Tempak gave no reasons,
just issued orders. Silently, she hoped and prayed that Hoshi and
Malcolm had not been subjected to what she and the Captain had just
been through.

The subjugation would destroy them both. She hung her head over the
sink.

Jon watched her hang her head and stood to comfort her, but stopped.
"Em?" His question hung in the air.

She squared her shoulders and looked at his shadowy figure. There was
hardly any light in their cell. "Sir?"

"I - I think that under the circumstances, you should call me Jon." He
smiled in the dark, trying to lighten the mood.

Em sniffed, trying to keep the tears at bay. She finally voiced the
saying that repeated in her head. "We did what we had to do."

Jon took a couple of steps toward her, feeling there was something
underneath her tough exterior.

She moved toward the only source of light they had, and he could see
tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Em, I ..." Jon started but was cut short by her sobs.

He walked over to her and hugged his chest to her back, wrapping his
blanket around her. "Shh, it's okay. God, Em, I'm so sorry. I
shouldn't have let things go so far. I shouldn't have..."

"We did what we had to do, Sir." She stated flatly, soaking in his
warmth.

"Jon," he corrected with a gentle smile in his voice.

"Jon," she repeated, her slight accent caressing his name like silk.

After a few moments of comforting silence, Em sighed and leaned into
his back.

"I...I don't think I can do what they want tomorrow, Sir...J-Jon," she
whispered into the dark. The sad, desperate tone touched his heart.

He said nothing, tucking her head underneath his chin and rocking her
back and forth.

"I-I was raped when I was in the academy, forced against my will," she
admitted, exhaling the confession on a rush of breath, almost melting
as the weight of her past lifted from her shoulders.

Jon remained silent, sensing her need to tell him this and remember
the moment of panic when the guards had held her to the table and that
bastard violated her. And then, he had violated her as well.

He kissed the top of her head gently. "Em, I'm so sorry, I - I didn't
know. If I had known, I would have...have... I don't know what I would
have done."

Em turned in his arms, keeping her arms crossed against her chest. "It
wasn't you," she insisted, panic in her eyes.

"I - I ...couldn't help but think back to that night. They held a
knife to my throat...as...as they raped me. They...they taunted me
like an animal. One of them..." she sobbed, but continued. "One of
them even... one of them ..."

Jon shuddered and hugged her to him, shushing her, holding her tense
form and trying to provide her comfort. "We'll think of something for
tomorrow, I promise. You won't have to go through it again."

Em unfolded her arms and wrapped them around him, hugging him back.
The warmth that radiated off of him comforted her, and she stopped
shivering, yawning. "I'll do what I have to do...Jon...to protect
everybody."

"That's very admirable Emmanuelle, but I won't ask anything of you
that you aren't prepared for," Jon stated, as he maneuvered them to
the bed.

"It's best if we get some sleep." Jon started to pull away, but she
held on to him.

"Please..." she whispered. "Could I ...sleep with you?" she murmured
into his chest with a slight shudder.

He blinked, surprised. "Y-Yes, of course!"

He moved away from her, taking his blanket from around his shoulders
and laying it down on the cold metal. He crawled on top of it and lay
on his side, patting next to him.

She smiled shyly and crawled next to him, her back to him. Her arm
reached back to spread her blanket over him.

He put his hand on her hip, as he scooted up against her back.
Surprisingly, she took his hand, and held it around her waist,
splaying their hands over her stomach.

"Good night, Jon," she yawned, drifting off to sleep.

Jon wished he could learn that trick, as he felt Em slacken into sleep
in his arms. Thank God she was asleep so that she couldn't feel his
arousal pressed against her back.

---

Malcolm watched, as the light of dawn broke through the small window,
casting shadows about their cell. He blinked as the light hit his
eyes. He made it through the night, and so had Hoshi. It hadn't been
easy, staying awake to wake her up every hour or so, but he had slept
on the cusp of consciousness and now the sun was peaking in on them.
He could already feel the warmth starting to saturate the room.

Checking her pulse, he let himself relax and fall asleep.

---

"Sub-Commander T'Pol, I'm a bit confused. I was told that your team
was called away due to an emergency," Chancellor Katay smiled
haughtily at the Vulcan, perturbed that his banquet had been ruined by
lack of guests; his administration a laughing stock!

T'Pol rose from the captain's chair, putting her hands behind her
back. "I assure you. There has been no emergency and the team has
failed to contact us at the agreed upon time. In fact, our attempts to
raise them have gone unanswered. I would appreciate any information
you have regarding their whereabouts."

"If I hear anything, I will let you know immediately," Katay assured
the pointy-eared one, terminating the communication.

Turning his head toward his adjunct ever so slightly, Katay commanded
through his tightly gritted teeth, "Find Arnas and Maletye!"

---

Her pillow was warm and firm and seemed to encompass her aching body.
It was breathing, steady and firm. Her eyes fluttered open, or at
least one of them did, focusing on the rise and fall of Malcolm's
chest. Hoshi flexed her hand, tracing a concentric circle around his
hardened nipple. She could feel his immediate response pressing
against her leg she had so ungraciously draped over him sometime last
night, and she froze, flooded by embarrassment.

She attempted to move away from him, but every inch of her body ached,
with exception to her hand, which seemed to have a mind of its own as
it continued to move over his chest. Her mind was fuzzy, still caught
in the grips of sleep, but awoken sharply as he whispered her name;
his arm around her, gripping her tighter, but his body slackening as
he fell further into the dream he was having.

She damned the fates for being so cruel. If she hadn't been beaten
yesterday, she would be seducing him right now and having her way with
him. He had kept her at arm's length for long enough and that needed
to change. His cordial ways were rarely warm toward her, as though he
didn't like her anymore. Sometimes it seemed as though he were fearful
of her.

Fear - such a strong and all encompassing word regarding their past.
She felt none now and gasped in surprise as the stirrings of desire
she had felt for him at their first meeting, resurfaced. Relief that
she could still feel this way toward him warmed her.


She smoothed the modest red material of her dress over her torso, and
looked nervously into the mirror. Once she walked out of the unisex
bathroom and through the door at the end of the hall, she would be
meeting most of the people that she would be spending the next five
years with. At least the Captain would be there, and she knew him.

Tonight was an informal meet and greet, without uniform or rank.
Captain Archer was the only one with rank tonight. She rolled her eyes
at herself in the mirror, and wet one of her hands, reshaping one of
the flat curls around her almond shaped face. For tonight, her hair
was an intricate pattern of shortened curls; surrounding her face. She
hated parties.

Just as she reached for the door, it swung open and a man in a
Starfleet uniform stormed in mumbling under his breath about how he
didn't have time for a party, as he needed to get the weapons online,
lest they be blown out of the water by the time they reached Kronos.
He startled slightly in response to her surprised gasp.

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss," Malcolm, stated not even looking at her.
He walked over to the mirror and yanked his pips off, and then started
to roll his sleeves down, covering the smudges of dirt. He was going
to make an appearance then leave.

"Ensign Sato, Lieutenant," Hoshi stated on a rush of breath, as she
composed herself and took note of the pips he removed. "I hate parties
too."

He already knew who she was, having reviewed the crew roster several
days ago. Her name was on the pending list, and he sent a silent
prayer up to whatever Gods were handy, and hoped she came. She was
beautiful, and more than qualified for the position she was assigned.
But, dammit to hell, she was an Ensign. So, he put her on his 'do not
approach' list. If she were beautiful while he looked at her Starfleet
mug shot, she was stunning in the flesh, dressed in a modest red silk
gown with no cleavage and long sleeves. But something caught his eye
in the mirror. There was very little to the back of the dress as it
dipped passed her shoulder blades in a U formation. The design didn't
stop there though. As the light from the mirrors hit her back just
right, the material changed, showing another dip along her back; this
one reaching to the small of her back. He needed little imagination as
his wandered lower.

She watched his eyes and the emotions cross over his face, and she
pressed her red lips together self-consciously. Maybe the dress was
too much, but it was the only formal she had left hanging in her
closet as most everything else had been packed away and shipped to her
parents for safe keeping. She couldn't quite peg a name to the
expression he wore, as he stared. It bordered on disapproval, and she
turned her back toward the wall so as to block his view as it lingered
on her...assets. "It's a good thing, you thought to remove your pips
before you entered the party. Captain Archer hates to have his parties
overshadowed with rank issues."

"Have you served with Captain Archer before?" Malcolm's curiosity
piqued with the chance he may speaking with the 'Captain's Woman,' and
his eyebrow rose.

"No. I tutored him in Vulcan, so that he could meet the language
requirement for his Captaincy exam." Hoshi's frown matched Malcolm's.

"I see," he stated, wiping the dirt off his face with a handkerchief.

Hoshi turned around and started to walk out, but stopped and looked at
him over her shoulder. "Do you?" She walked out with a shake to her
hip, leaving the Lieutenant in her wake.

He had been somewhat condescending, and that set the tone to their
relationship on the ship for the first few days.


Hoshi sighed, snuggling closer to him and letting sleep claim her
again.

---

Jon's dreams were filled with Em, more precisely, erotic images of Em,
which would explain why he woke up with a raging hard on. She had her
back to him and remained asleep and he was laying on his back, exposed
to the cool air of the cell in all his glory.

The door to the cell opened and Maletye walked in with a menacing
gleam in his eye. Jon tried to cover himself and Em bolted awake.

"You're too late, Captain Archer. I already know that you are ready
for another demonstration, there is little use covering yourself up
now. We've been monitoring you all night." Maletye motioned for a
guard to remove the blankets. "If you resist..." the Tempak handed
them a pad that showed a peacefully sleeping Hoshi and Malcolm.
"...I'll have both of them killed. They have served their purpose and
are no longer necessary. Arnas has gotten the information he wanted
from them. So, they really are expendable at this point."

"I won't do it," Jon stated, holding to his conviction that he
wouldn't violate Em again, and praying that the debauchee was
bluffing.

Next to him, Em struggled for the blanket briefly, but let it go, her
shoulders sinking in defeat. "Do what you have to do," repeated in her
head and she stood, crossing her arms across her breasts, shivering.

"Stop," she whispered, earning surprised stares from the alien and her
Captain.

Without words, she turned around, dropping her arms and kneeling onto
the bunk. Jon froze, staring into her dark eyes, and watching her
crawl toward him.

"Very wise, Lieutenant," Maletye informed, as he sat back preparing to
take notes.

"Em? I won't," Jon started to protest but was silenced as she pushed
him gently on his shoulders and pressed her lips to his. Her eyes were
overwhelming sad, yet belayed a spark of desire in them, and he
frowned, turning his head away from the kiss.

"I can't do this to you again," he continued, moaning as she licked
the shell of his ear and ran her hands over his chest.

"Now, what is the purpose of kissing? I meant to ask the question
yesterday, but was more interested in the end result." The curious,
scientific voice interrupted.

"Save all of your goddamn questions and comments for the end," Em
demanded, trying to establish some kind of control over the
circumstances. "Otherwise, I will stop right now, and there will be no
demonstration."

"Very well then." The alien concurred.

Jon was tense, wanting her, yet denying his urge to bury himself
inside her liquid depths. His mind was blank as he shut his eyes,
purging any mental images of her naked form. But the feel of her
straddling his now supine form, the feel of her breasts pressing
against his chest, and most of all the feel of her tongue and breath
caressing his ear and hairline, had him rock hard and unable to calm
himself down.

"We'll do what we have to do," she reasoned into his ear, rocking her
body along his, measuring the feel of his arousal as it pressed
against her ass.

He opened his eyes, and turned his head. The dark curtain of her hair
managed to give them some privacy against the invasive observation.
"Em, you don't have to do this. There has got to be another way."

Em continued to brush her hardened, dusky nipples across his hair
roughened chest in an attempt of self-arousal. Finally she opened her
eyes and he could see the depth of desire she aspired to. "I want
you," she admitted the truth, and licked his lips, seeking permission
for a deeper kiss.

His control snapped and his head rose up to meet hers, welcoming the
thrust of her tongue into his mouth. The only control he maintained
was the irresistible urge to lift her hips ever so slightly and sheath
himself inside her core. She would have to take him. She would need to
remain in control.

As if reading his mind, she broke the kiss and sat up, reaching behind
her, and grasping his cock in her hand, she lifted up slightly and
welcomed him into her orifice.

Jon groaned and reached forward, grasping her hips, looking at her as
she balanced herself on his chest, his soul left him, channeling into
her. He loved her, and that sudden realization scared the shit out of
him.

She rocked back and forth on him, her head tossed back, mentally
blocking the reasons she was pleasuring herself with the Captain,
mentally painting a picture in her head that they were lovers in real
life. She leaned backwards, her hands pushing against his abdominal
muscles, and startled as he slipped a hand between them and sought her
clitoris.

"This time, you're coming with me," he managed to say on a strangled
breath, and pushed up to meet her.

His finger glided across her clitoris and she leaned further back,
striving for her release.

His increasing tempo and ministrations on her swollen nub brought a
shuddering wave across her being. Her voice failed her as she tossed
her head back and continued to ride him. She wanted to tell him she
had come, but the roar of the orgasm still reverberated throughout her
body.

He could feel the walls of her sheath constrict around him, and he
took a great deal of satisfaction in the fact that he had given her
that much. He bit his lip as he thrust himself to the hilt and spilled
himself inside her, shuddering underneath her.

Em collapsed on top of him, reveling at the feel of his still hardened
member inside her. Involuntarily, she shuddered around him again,
causing him to dig his nails into her hips painfully.

"I assume by your posture that the male did ejaculate inside you." The
Tempak scrutinized their still conjoined bodies.

Em shuddered, looking down into Jon's dark gray-green eyes. "Yes, he
did."

"Don't move," he hissed, trying to calm himself down and trying to
make it like he would be out of commission for some time.

She looked at him curiously, and pushed on his chest, trying to
disengage from him, but he held her to him. "Don't move," he pleaded.
"If...if they see the state I'm in, there's no telling what they will
make us do next and I want to spare you any further..." Jon actually
blushed when she put a finger over his lips.

"I understand," she whispered.

Maletye stood, satisfied with the recorded material he had obtained.
"You have one hour to recover Captain. By the way, I actually took the
time to study your database and understand that it will take some time
for a baby to form. But one thing I also came across is that it
doesn't take days for the male to recover. Therefore, you have one
hour."

He left and his guards followed suit.

Em remained utterly still on top of him, barely breathing. Maletye's
words echoed in her mind and she couldn't help but bust out laughing.

The feel of her laughing around him did little for his problem and he
shut his eyes. "What is so funny?"

"A baby? He wants a baby to form? He is out of his mind! You and I are
both on birth control per standard long deployment regs. He's going to
have to wait a while. My control is good for two more years. How about
yours?" She continued to laugh until she looked down and saw the
serious look on his face.

She didn't need to ask what his problem was as she felt his hardness
twitch inside her depths. She could so easily pleasure him again with
the slightest movement of her hips, but could tell he didn't want
that. Disappointment over that thought disheartened her. "Uh, when do
you think, um, your problem will dissipate?" she whispered.

He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. "I've wanted you since I met
you, so I think he's making up for lost time," he admitted.

Her heart soared at his slip of an admission and she felt emboldened.
She leaned over him and whispered, "I've wanted you too."

"I can ease your ache, if you let me," she murmured into his ear, not
even believing her own ears as the words came out of her mouth.

He groaned, "I wish we were alone, but we aren't." He referred to the
cameras. "I-I won't cheapen you further. I don't want to use you like
that." He reached forward and touched her hair, sighing.

She looked away from him, hurt in her eyes.

"No, No! I didn't mean to say that. I don't think of you as cheap," he
said hastily, as he reached up to her and cupped her face in his
hands. "I - I ...care for you. I don't want to hurt you any more."

Something that had never happened to her before, happened -she was
speechless. Not knowing what to do, or how to react to the feelings
that swirled around her, she lay upon his chest and listened to him
breathe.

---

Hoshi was in pain and screaming for him, but he was powerless to help
her. The sound of her screams was all he remembered as he woke, but
the sense that he was powerless remained with him. He shuddered and
gripped his arms around her tighter, stirring her in the process. By
his calculation, it was already afternoon and Enterprise would be
looking for them by now.

Fully awake now, Hoshi sat up stiffly, turning away from Malcolm. She
didn't want him to see the blush that she was sure was on her cheek.
Her dream had been vivid and in color, and full of him.

He sat up, grabbing her wrist. "Let me see your face," he stated,
sleep still clinging to his voice.

She turned to him and he didn't wince like he had last night. "Some of
the swelling has gone down. How do you feel?"

"Well, I feel like I was hit by a Brazilian tour bus barreling down a
nature trail," she answered, trying to lighten his mood.

He gave a slight chuckle and actually smiled. "That's right. I had
forgotten that you were teaching in Brazil when Captain Archer dragged
you kicking and screaming on board Enterprise."

She scoffed at his summation. "I was not kicking and screaming! I had
two weeks left of an intensive class I was teaching."

After a pregnant pause, she sighed. "Okay, maybe I did scream a little
bit especially when I saw all of the dead bodies."

"I was quite taken aback by the corpses as well," he admitted, getting
up and wringing out the rag that was his t-shirt.

"But at least you didn't scream like a girl," Hoshi winced as she
remembered the shrill scream.

"You are a girl. How else would you scream?" Malcolm teased, walking
over to the sink and turning on the cold-water faucet, not noticing
the hungry look in Hoshi's eyes as her eyes fell to his ass.

"Is that how you see me? A girl?" She asked, knowing she had cornered
him, yet feeling as though her heart would break. She noticed his back
straighten, but kept her eyes on him, determined to press him for an
answer.

He turned around, trying to ignore the look on her face - half hope,
half devastation. "Ensign, I refuse to answer the question based on
the set of your chin. You remind me of Madeline, and I learned long
ago never to borrow trouble from her when she had that set to her
chin."

She didn't know whether to be flattered or outraged. She reminded him
of his sister? After all they had been through? On the other hand, he
had actually shared a personal bit of his history with her. Whether it
intentional or not, she grabbed on to it and ran with it. "I thought
your sister was very amiable."

A puzzled look crossed his face as he pressed the cold rag to her
cheek. "How did you know Madeline is my sister?"

Hoshi sat there, taking the rag from him and wiping at her lip with
it. Actually she was trying to hide the grin she had on her face over
the silliest of things. She had actually gotten him to talk to her,
and not at her. And, it was something of a personal nature. She would
take anything she could get her hands on. "I was the one responsible
for finding out your favorite food for your birthday two years ago."

"That was you?" he replied in amazement and walked over to the door,
inspecting it for flaws and possible exit venues. Touching it, he was
given a slight shock. "Damn! Not only is the door locked, but there is
some kind of electric field around it.

"I was unaware that Pineapple was my favorite food," Malcolm mumbled,
walking over to the small window.

"You mean it isn't?" Hoshi asked, finally realizing that she may have
been mistaken all along. "If it isn't, what is your favorite food?"

"Oh, no! Pineapple is definitely my favorite for cakes, but I would
have to say ... um... as far as food goes...I prefer Mexican cuisine,"
he smiled at her, referring to enchiladas specifically.

Hoshi looked away from him quickly, not wanting him to see the bright
red blush that she knew was creeping up her neck.

Malcolm mentally kicked himself for flirting with her. He really ought
to know better than that. The history between them was irreparable,
and he knew nothing would ever be between them. For some odd reason he
always found himself picturing an old man putting a special figurine
up onto a mantel place, only to be taken down for dusting. He loved
the figurine, but it was only to be loved from afar, never to be
embraced.

"What is your favorite food?" he countered quickly, hoping to lighten
the weight he felt upon himself.

Not about to let his slip in decorum pass her by, she smiled and ran a
few fingers through her hair to get some of the tangles out. "I love
all Mexican cuisine, especially enchiladas," she baited him. "A really
hot and spicy salsa on top, and I am in heaven."

Ok so the devil made her add that last part, but she couldn't help but
pray for the result that she wanted. She would take anything he had to
give and run with it. How could she not torment him? So, she leaned
back, tautening her tank across her chest and watched the blush
encompass his entire body. His chest, neck and face were a dark red
and he looked at her intently for a moment.

He hooded his gaze, not wanting her to see the hunger he still felt
for her, walked over to the sink, and then splashed water onto his
face.

"Um," Hoshi sighed. "Is that our latrine?" She motioned to large pan
under the sink, crossing her legs.

"I guess so," he stated, bending down, picking it up and handing it to
her. "When you're finished, I need to ... utilize the facility as
well."

She grimaced, taking the offensive, yet necessary instrument, and went
about her business, noting he had taken turned his back.

Resisting the urge to whistle as she did her business, she couldn't
help but grin. Yes, she wanted to get closer to Malcolm, but this
wasn't exactly what she had in mind.

She stood up, praying she would get a chance to shower today. Tapping
Malcolm on the shoulder, she perked as best she could, "Your turn."

"Uh, thank you." Malcolm took his turn.

Hoshi stared at the wall, suddenly very interested in the texture of
the gray marble.

Hearing that he was done, she cleared her throat. "I wonder what they
want."

He walked over to the door and started banging on it, intent on having
their waste removed immediately. "Some of the questions they asked
bordered on bizarre. Other questions were fairly general, but Arnas
never told me what he wanted."

"In what way were they bizarre?" asked Hoshi, walking over to the
small window and looking out.

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders and banged on the door again. "They
kept focusing on lighting and coloring, asking me if it were normal
that human's bled red when we were cut."

Hoshi scoffed. "I could have demonstrated the bleeding aspect for
them."

Malcolm remained silent, watching her try to get a tangle out of her
hair.

"Do you think they'll take you again?" she whispered, dreading the
thought of being alone.

I won't let them," he affirmed, and walked over to her, taking her
hair in his hand. "Let me."

She relaxed into him, leaning her back into his chest. "If they do
come for you, don't do anything stupid."

He worked the knot in her hair out, and let the silken loop fall
straight. "I won't let them hurt you again." He sighed and placed his
hand on her shoulder, marveling at the simple gesture of her leaning
into him. It sparked such a depth of emotion in him that the door to a
future with Hoshi had cracked open in his heart.

She turned in his arms and pinned him with her solemn stare. "I mean
it, Malcolm. You do what you have to do. Keep Enterprise safe."

His blue eyes met black ones and his breath caught in his throat. It
was as though he were outside, watching himself as his head moved
forward, his eyes now focusing on her lips. He ran the pad over the
cut that marred their perfection and she licked her them.

Hoshi put her hand on Malcolm's chest and looked at his lips. Inside
she was trembling, her eyes reflecting the want that she saw in his.
She leaned forward, inhaling his lack of breath, as he had seemingly
stopped breathing.

Boom!

The explosion rocked the compound, shaking the ground underneath their
feet. Malcolm clasped Hoshi to him, shielding her from debris that
never came. They could hear shouts and people running. Malcolm moved
Hoshi under a bunk and told her to stay put.

He ran over to the door and tried it, but it was still locked, yet
didn't shock him. At least their energy fields had been knocked down.
Hope that he might actually be able to protect Hoshi after all sprang
to life.

---

Across the compound, Jon coughed as the dust settled around them. He
was on top of Em, shielding her from the debris. He and Em had just
settled into each other for a quick nap after his problem had finally
dissipated.

The door to their cell creaked open and collapsed onto the ground as
the one hinge that was attached, finally gave way. Through the smoke,
a very distraught Chancellor Katay appeared, his adjuncts immediately
providing clothing for Minister Maletye's science experiment.

"Captain, Lieutenant, my sincerest apologies for the indignities you
must have suffered at Maletye's hands. I hope that there are no
lasting effects and our governments' relationships can withstand this
grievous breach in decorum," Katay prattled.

Jon took the clothing, handed a robe to Em, never taking his eyes off
of her, and said, quietly, "Where are my other officers?"

"I've prepared baths and food for your return to the palace. You'll be
happy to know that we have located your shuttle and..."

"Where are my other officers," Jon yelled, the sound reverberating
through the still settling dust.

The Chancellor's mouth hung open and continued flapping, yet no sound
came forth.

Em clutched the robes around her as numbness coupled with relief
surged through her. She hardly took notice of Jon yelling at the
Tempak.

"They will be here shortly," whispered Katay, realizing the severity
of the situation.

"I regret to inform you that we will be leaving the surface as soon as
it can be arranged. Sub-Commander T'Pol will contact you with further
information." Jon barely took note of the alien as he stood in front
of his security officer, noting her bowed head and downcast eyes.

Just then an armed escort accompanied a disheveled Hoshi and Malcolm
into what was left of the cell. "Sir, she's refused medical treatment
and states that she wishes to leave," a guard stated, referring to
Hoshi. "A shuttle is en route to pick the humans up."

Em looked up and gasped, causing Jon to turn around and gape.

"That will be all," Katay stated as he waved the guard off. "I assure
you that Arnas and Maletye will be punished to the fullest extent of
Tempakian law, and if they survive, will be available for extradition
so that your government may punish them as well.

"That's reassuring," Jon murmured, walking through the door and
motioning for his team to follow him.

---

Three strangers sat apart from one another as the theta radiation
purged their biological systems of the pathogenic spore Phlox had
labeled as potentially hazardous. Hoshi had been immediately rushed
into sickbay for treatment of her injuries.

Malcolm gripped onto the sides of the bench and leaned forward,
inhaling the clean air and semi-relaxing for the first time in the
past two days. They were safe for now, and so was she, Phlox assuring
him that she would make a full recovery.

The shuttle ride from the surface was made in relative silence. Dr.
Phlox and Travis, who could barely contain the questioning look on his
face, had met them. An engineering team accompanied them, to retrieve
the other shuttle. It seemed that Arnas had attempted to dispose of
the shuttle in a swamp and didn't bother closing the hatch when he did
so.

Malcolm had hovered over Phlox's shoulder as he administered more
in-depth first-aid. He was wired and wanted to pound on something,
preferably Arnas's dead carcass, but that would have to wait. Her eyes
met his and he tried not to stare or eavesdrop, but his concern
outweighed any semblance of manners.

"I'll want to monitor you when you get back, Ensign," Phlox insisted,
and moved on fielding Jon's questions regarding him comm officer.

After they had docked, Hoshi brushed past Malcolm and whispered into
his ear.

Malcolm stared at the wall, half fear and half anticipated hope. We're
not finished, not by a long shot."

The relaxing hum of the decon cycle ended and all three stood in
awkward silence.

"Both of you have the next two days off," Jon informed them, walking
ahead of them.

Hoshi sat on the biobed, kicking her feet back and forth impatiently.
She was determined not to spend the night in sickbay under
observation. Right now, she was waiting for Liz Cutler to escort her
to her quarters so she could get cleaned up. Phlox didn't want her
alone.

She already felt one hundred percent better due to the
anti-inflammatory Phlox had given her. She ran her fingers over her
cheek and lip, self-consciously. What the hell had she been thinking,
flirting with Malcolm in her condition? She must have been hit harder
than she realized.

Heat flooded through her body as she remember their 'almost first
kiss.' Now she would need to start from scratch. Part of her wanted to
damn being rescued, having danced on the edge of possibilities of
taking the next step in a relationship with Malcolm, but the other
part of her was relieved. He wasn't in danger.

The important thing is that they were both safe and now, had the
confines of the ship to get to know one another again.

She looked across sickbay, into the reflective surfaces of some
cabinets, and resigned herself to a long arduous path ahead of her.
She was going to get him, and he wasn't going to see her coming.

A perplexed Liz walked in, hearing the last part of Hoshi's thought as
she said it out loud. "Who?"

---

"Two weeks! It's been two weeks! And that twit hasn't made one iota of
effort to approach me!" Hoshi huffed at herself as she looked in the
mirror, drying her hair off. She was back to her old self and as
desirable as ever. She examined the rest of her body in the mirror,
turning and admiring her body from every angle. Then she looked at her
closet and cringed, sure that it was her lack of decent, awe-inspiring
attire that put Malcolm off.

A peek of red mocked her, shimmering in the light. The dress she wore
to the 'getting-to-know-you' party hang in her closet after three
years of neglect and non-use. What the hell had she been thinking when
she bought that thing? She walked over and opened her bureau drawer,
inspecting its contents, bored with the regulation blues that
dominated even her undergarment selection.

Pushing them aside, she opted for a soft pale peach panty and bra.
Perhaps, tomorrow, she would screw up enough courage to wear to red
ones. As she put the peach panties on, she thought to herself, "Too
bad, I wasn't wearing these, when we were abducted."

"Malcolm wouldn't have stood a chance against me, then," she smiled to
herself in the mirror.

"Mr. Reed, things are going to change. And they are going to change
for the better," she purred, putting on her neutral lipstick.

Blotting her lips then baring her teeth to make sure no lipstick was
on them, she growled. "Even, if I have to drag you kicking and
screaming all the way."

---

"I did what I had to do," Em reminded herself, looking into the
mirror. Twisting her hair and clipping it into place, she sighed. Two
days ago, Jon...the Captain had asked her to dinner. She didn't go. He
had invited her under an official guise, and it was so far-fetched and
ludicrous that even she had to roll her eyes.

The dinner invitation had been for 1900 hours, and she had sat in
her quarters watching the time pass by, heart-achingly slow. Her heart
wanted to attend, but her feet refused to carry her to the Captain's
Mess. It was for both their benefit that they not pursue a
relationship.

2000 hours came and went, and she continued to ignore the dull ache in
the pit of her stomach and stepped into the shower, her tears mingling
with the water, the only witness to her grief.

The steam clung around her like a shroud and she shivered as she
stepped out. She put a dollop of lotion into her palm and worked it
into her shoulders, legs and torso. Then she put her short, lavender
robe on. Her head set followed and she turned her music on full blast
and set about re-polishing her toenails.

The music, combined with the warm shower, soothed her. Her toes dry,
she lay down and closed her eyes, taking mental note that she was a
good little officer and in bed before 2100.

She was drifting off to sleep when a strange feeling yanked her from
the precipice. She opened her eyes, and the shadow of a man loomed
over her. Reflexively, she reached for her phase pistol between the
mattress and the wall and aimed it at the figure, her hand shaking and
her heart racing.

Yanking the headset off, she could hear the intruder trying to explain
himself as he clicked on more lighting.

"You didn't come to dinner, and I got worried that something had
happened to you when you didn't answer your hail," Jon affirmed,
taking in the view that her gapping robe afforded him.

Em placed her phase pistol onto her pillow and turned toward him. "So
you break in here and do the peeping-tom thing under the guise of
concern for my welfare? I never would have figured you as a candidate
for egomania. So, I stood you up, Sir!"

Em turned away from him and started to pace, yet continued her rant.
"Of course I stood you up. Who ever heard of a getting-to-know you
dinner? Don't you know me well enough? Em seethed with anger and ran a
hand through her hair. "Look, what happened on the planet ... well it
happened. Now it's over. We did what we had to do. I don't need any
emotional entanglements nor do I need emotional baggage. You're the
captain and I am under your command. It would never work"

She stopped in front of him, within arms reach and whispered, "We did
what we had to..."

Her saving philosophy failed her as his lips covered hers. His tongue
slid over hers with ease and skill, demanding her caress over his as
well. His hands, which had been on her face, traveled the expanse of
her shoulders, and then her back, crushing her to him.

She didn't even recognize the groan that tore from the depth of her
throat, as she plastered herself against him. She tasted wine, and she
sipped it voraciously. Her hands ran through his hair of their own
volition.

His lips left hers and trailed a wet path along her jaw, down her neck
and across her collarbone. Her legs were puddles and threatened to
give out from under her, as desire for him pooled within her. Damning
her weakness, she moved to undress him, starting with un-tucking the
shirt he wore.

Just as her fingers tugged of the material, he pulled away, breathing
heavily, grasping her hands gently in his to stop their progress.

He hugged her to him as he calmed down. As he pulled away, he kissed
her forehead and looked into her eyes, sadness in his. "Too bad we'll
never know."

Shock and numbness surrounded her as she watched him leave, her body
singing for completion.

She dabbed some makeup onto the puffy dark circles that had greeted
her this morning. After he left, her reasoning kicked in and realized
he had done her a favor. Of course, her reasoning hadn't kicked in
until she had stood under the cold spray of the shower for several
minutes. They both did what they had to do, and they were better off
leaving things the way they were.

---

He was part puddle and part nervousness, as he strode from T'Pol's to
the gym. That was his routine -meditation then strenuous physical
activity. The exercise program helped him expunge the parts of himself
that he was unable to deal with during the meditation sessions.

The official report from Tempak listed Maletye as deceased due to
childbirth. Apparently he had been entered into their breeding
program. Captain Archer said something about his punishment fitting
his crime. Arnas was still alive, having received a flogging and exile
onto a deserted island. If he survived their lunar cycle, which
consisted of three Earth years, he would be available for extradition.
Malcolm hoped he survived for extradition. He would love to pound his
carcass into the ground.

His fists clenched and jaw aching, he walked into the gym and stopped
dead in his tracks. Hoshi was jogging on the treadmill, and it looked
as though she had been there for some time because her workout clothes
were drenched with sweat. His moment of hesitation was his undoing as
she turned her head and waved, never disturbing her stride. He wanted
to run or ride the bike, but that would bring him into closer contact
with Hoshi, and he avoided that like the plague. Just being in the
same room with her, made his head swim.

He walked over to the weightlifting bench and started adjusting it,
listening to the steady pound of Hoshi's feet. Her rhythm set his and
he lifted the set of weights off of the groves, subconsciously
following her rhythm.

After several reps, he lost count and punished his muscles as the
adrenaline pumped through him. He lost track of everything, thought
and feeling. The helplessness over their stay on Tempak still haunted
him - she still haunted him.

A new dream had crept into his psyche, one where the kiss in the cell
actually took place. Not only did the kiss take place, it flourished
into so much more. He hadn't taken a hot or warm shower in two weeks.
Instead, they were icy cold. They seemed so real, and part of him
wanted them to be. But, the truth of the matter was that, he still
didn't trust himself not to hurt her.

So wrapped up in his thoughts, he missed the fact that she had stepped
off the treadmill, and was now standing at the foot of the
weightlifting bench.

How long she had stood there, he didn't know. All he knew was that she
looked pissed when he opened his eyes, and ready for a fight. Before
he could react, she straddled him and the bench, pushing him down as
he tried to sit up. He sent a small prayer to the heavens that he had
just cradled the weights; otherwise, they would be crushing his chest
by now.

She glared at him, her hair plastered to her neck and sides of her
face. "I told you we weren't finished, hoping you would come around,
but apparently you are denser than cement."

She leaned forward, her palms pressed flat against his bare chest. The
air rushed from his lungs and he felt like a fish out of water.

He held his breath; afraid he would wake from the dream. As if she
sensed his lack of oxygen, she leaned over and whispered against his
lips. "Breathe."

Her lips hesitated on his then pressed against them softly. Her eyes
were closed, and he could feel a slight tremor run through her body.

She darted her tongue across his lips, and that was his undoing.

His eyes closed and his other senses took over. Her feminine sweat
assailed his sense of smell, fueling his sense of taste.

She tasted of musky jasmine and rose hips, scents he knew well from
his mother's garden.

Finally, he remembered to breathe and their breaths mingled and mated
as their tongues dueled.

Her hands stilled across his taut chest, as she focused all of her
attention into the kiss. A groan filled the room, from whom, neither
could tell.

A plethora of emotions battled within him. He dare not touch her,
otherwise, he knew he would strip her where she stood and bury himself
in her depths. She deserved better than that. She deserved better than
him.

She shifted on top on him and gasped at the feel of his arousal
pressing against her. A smile dancing across her lips, she broke the
kiss, only to rain soft ones along his jaw. "Shall we take this
somewhere more private?"

Her words were like a dash of cold water, and his body went rigid, yet
still screamed for the release she offered. "I can't," he whispered,
unable to look into her eyes.

She remained silent, still straddling him, trying to measure his
response.

"I won't," he affirmed, finally able to meet her stare.

Her gaze was hooded and her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"I don't trust myself," he admitted. "Not when it comes to you.

Then she did something totally unexpected. She leaned forward and
kissed him on the forehead. "I trust you. When you're ready, let me
know."

She stood up and walked out, not even bothering to look back at the
man who had already changed his mind.

---

Jon tossed his bed, disturbing Porthos. His dreams had been the same
ever since they had gotten back. He was still hard inside Em's depths
and she offered to 'ease his ache.' Instead of denying himself the
pleasure, he submerged himself.

Now he was awake and his 'problem met with cool air, as he had long
ago kicked his sheet off.

He didn't know what he had been thinking when he invited her to
dinner. Part of him wanted to pursue her, to make her his. But, most
of all, he had to know if she was all right.

Her admission about her rape had floored him. No official record
existed in her Starfleet record, and he could only gage when it
happened because there was a notation on her record that she had taken
medical leave for several weeks.

His hand clenched on the bed, thinking of what she must have went
through. He had no idea what it must have cost her to "do what she had
to do."

He sat up in bed, too wired to sleep. He couldn't blame her for being
mad, but he wasn't sure how she would react if he simply showed up on
her doorstep unannounced. So, he had asked her to her
'getting-to-know-you dinner.' He didn't know how, but somehow, hers
had been overlooked. It must have had something to do with the fact
that she was a last minute edition.

Her words stung when she asked him if he hadn't already gotten to know
her well enough. She had made up her mind. There would be no them, no
matter what he wanted.

Her rant had been quick and swift, dashing any hope he had of pursuing
a relationship with Em. His priorities had shifted tremendously, and
for the first time in a long time, he considered the possibility that
his career was not the most important thing in his life.

She had vocalized every concern he had thought of, making him realize
that his hopes were just that -- hopes. He couldn't help himself as he
reached for her, and kissed her. He had to taste her one last time,
before he let her go.

"It is better this way," he thought out loud. Em's career would remain
intact, and he wouldn't need to call Admiral Forrest to explain
himself.

Jon punched his pillow and rolled onto his side, trying to ignore the
ache in his chest. It really was too bad they would never know.

---

Whoever it was, kept knocking, and she couldn't find the door they
were behind. She was panicked, calling out to the person to keep
knocking. She knew whoever it was would change her life, and she
wanted that person more than anything in her life.

Finally, her dream vanished and reality chimed at her door. Shaking
the cobwebs of sleep from her mind, Hoshi stood up, looked at the time
and answered the door.

A disheveled Malcolm straightened, as he had been leaning against the
doorframe.

She stared at him, her eyes bleary and filled with questions.

"I -- I," he stammered, not really knowing where to start, so he
grabbed her hand, and stood there.

"Would -- would you allow me to escort you to movie night tomorrow?"
He asked the question on such a quick rush of breath that she almost
didn't understand him.

She stood there, puzzled, wondering about his sudden change of heart.

"I'm ready," he stated, gingerly smoothing his palm over hers. "Please
say yes."

"Yes."

He gently kissed her palm and sighed. "Thank you."

She smiled as he held her palm to his cheek. "I'll bring the popcorn."

"I'll see you then." Malcolm kissed her palm again, rubbing his
days-growth stubble along her palm as if reluctant to leave, but he
did. And he did so without looking back.

Hoshi looked at his retreating back and felt a flutter in her stomach.
She looked at the clock and it flashed an obscene time at her. It was
three o'clock in the morning. What was he doing up at three, asking
her on a date? She sat on her bed and looked at the dimly lit
reflection in the mirror. And she smiled. She would have to ask him
tonight on their first date.

---

The End