The BLTS Archive - Staying In second in the Direction series by ShoSen (shosen@totallykawaii.com) --- Disclaimer: All stories not found in the Originals section are works of fanfiction. The characters are not the property of the fanfiction author, and belong to their respective copyright holders. No money is being made from the production of these stories. --- "Come in." Trip walked through the door to Malcolm's quarters and found the Armoury officer slumped at his desk, dressed in full uniform, staring blearily at a report that was held limply in one hand. As Trip entered, the report was carefully set on the desk, and the unfocused gaze shifted towards him. "Trip." "Malcolm. You look terrible." "Thanks ever so much." "I thought you were supposed ta be gettin' some rest." "I haven't been able to sleep." "What? At all?" "I'm afraid not." "Malcolm, it's been two days." "I am well aware of that, thank you." "Didn't Phlox give you somethin'?" Malcolm's body tensed and his lips tightened into a thin line. "You're not takin' your medicine, are you?" "I don't like taking sedatives." "You didn't seem ta mind when we were down on that planet." The Armoury officer blushed slightly, standing to place the report on a stack of data PADDs that sat on his shelf. "Yes, well, I didn't have much of a choice in that situation." Trip sighed. "Malcolm, did Phlox give you somethin' ta help you sleep?" "Yes." "And will it also help you get better?" "Probably." "Then just take it." Silence. "Malcolm, don't make me order you to take your medicine." "Fine," he agreed stiffly, none of the tenseness leaving his shoulders even as they slumped slightly in resignation, an interesting trick, and he returned to his desk for the medication. "Good boy," Trip praised, and received the expected glare in return. "Happy now Commander?" Malcolm grumbled, and Trip grinned, until he saw the Armoury officer's stance begin to waver a little. "Oh, my," Malcolm whispered as he leaned against the desk. "That was somewhat quicker than I expected." Trip chuckled, "Phlox probably wanted ta flatten you so you'd actually stop workin' enough ta get better." "Then he was successful. I'm afraid I'm going to have to go to bed now." He looked across the cabin with a slightly daunted expression. "Here, let me help ya." "You don't have to." "You're about ta fall over, come on." Apparently that was all the insistence Malcolm needed at the moment, because he gave up and let Trip help him to the bed, where he sat down in a half-flop. "This is very disconcerting," he mumbled and Trip laughed as he knelt to remove Malcolm's boots. "I have no idea you were so chivalrous Mr. Tucker." "I don't know how ya coulda missed it. I'm a perfect gentleman after all." Malcolm scoffed, "Perfect rake, you mean." "Yeah, we'll you're a perfect uptight officer. I can't believe you put on your uniform when you were supposed ta be on sick leave." "It seemed like a good idea at the time," Malcolm answered, slumping farther down onto the bed. "Hey, hold up, I've got ta get it off ya before I put ya ta bed." "This is getting to be a habit," Malcolm muttered as he struggled up into a sitting position again. "It's not one I mind," Trip answered as he continued to strip the uniform off. When he finished pulling the black shirt over Malcolm's head, he realised the Armoury officer was flushed again, and placed a concerned hand on his forehead. "You're not gettin' your fever back, are you?" "No," Malcolm answered weakly, puling away from Trip's touch to begin struggling with the covers. Trip watched him for a moment, and then decided his amusement wasn't conducive to the other man actually getting into the bed, so he helped him. Malcolm accepted it with only minor grumbling before settling in under the covers with a sigh. He closed his eyes almost immediately and he mumbled something that sounded like a combination of both "thank you" and "good night" before his breathing slowed. He looked less haggard already, tucked under the covers, sleeping peaceful. In fact, he looked downright cute, and before he could stop himself, Trip reached out and ruffled Malcolm's hair. It earned him a half-hearted sleepy protest, but Malcolm didn't wake up, which meant he didn't notice that Trip's hand stayed in his hair for a moment after the affectionate gesture. He let the strands slide through his fingers, feeling the silky texture, watching the way they moved as they settled down, falling completely out of place. It was only when the movements stopped that he realised he was still holding his hand just above Malcolm's head, staring at his hair, his face, watching him sleep. It was Trip's turn to blush now as he straightened quickly and walked towards the door. He turned the lights off, and looked over at the room's sleeping occupant one more time. "Night Malcolm," he whispered, then hit the button to open the door and left the room. --- continued in the third story in the Directions series 'Falling Down'