The BLTS Archive - Rising Up'
fourth in the Directions series
by ShoSen (shosen@totallykawaii.com)

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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.

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The turbolift doors shut behind them, and Trip collapsed back
against the wall, exhaustion in every bone of his body. Fortunately,
the earlier tactical alert hadn't been caused by an enemy attack for a
change, but rather by some sort of energy storm the ship had
accidentally crossed through. Getting out of it with their systems
intact had required some finesse, but they had pulled it off in the
end. Now that they had enough up and running to exist on he just
wanted to crawl into bed and get his six hours sleep.

"You look awful," Malcolm said from the other side of the lift, a
far-too-pleased tone in his voice. Trip opened his eyes just enough to
glare at him, only to find the armoury officer also slumped against
the wall, his uniform collar still open, his sleeves still rolled up.
It had been a long time since Trip had seen him looking so
dishevelled.

It was a good look for him.

Trip let his head fall back against the wall with a small groan as he
closed his eyes again. This just could not be happening. It just
couldn't. He was not, repeat not, thinking that Malcolm Reed looked
pretty damn good in a rumpled uniform. He was also not thinking about
falling on top of the other man in the armoury, or about what might
have happened after that if the tactical alert hadn't gone off. He was
not thinking about that because he was just too damn tired to deal
with it right now.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the universe was bound and determined to
keep him from his bed, as the turbolift came to a sudden, shuddering
halt.

"I thought you had these systems running," Malcolm accused him, and
this time Trip did managed to get through the entire glare and added a
scowl for good measure.

"I did. I can't help it if they decide to go down again the second I
step out of engineering."

For a second Malcolm looked as though he was going to add something
else, and then the annoyed look simply vanished from his face as he
sank to the ground. "I give up."

Trip chuckled, and joined the other man on the floor. "Same here. This
has just not been our week."

"It had its moments." Malcolm said softly, and Trip had the sudden
irrational hope that they were both talking about the same moments.
Like lying under blankets on some planet, tucking the other man into
bed, falling down on top of him in the armoury, and now just watching
him sit there, completely relaxed, his head tilted back, his uniform
half undone. Moments like that, well they were worth getting trapped
in a turbolift for.

"Yeah, that it did."

Malcolm finally opened his eyes again, looking at Trip with a curious
gaze. "Really? I can't help but think that it's been nothing short of
bothersome for you."

"Wouldn't change a thing." He grinned. "Well, except maybe all the
repairs I'm lookin' forward to tomorrow."

Malcolm chuckled, his gaze dropping as his faced flushed, and Trip
suddenly looked at him closer.

Blushing. Malcolm Reed was blushing. Damn if that wasn't cute, not to
mention just what he needed to make his earlier hopes just slightly
more rational. "What about you?" He asked, watching the other man
closely.

"Not really."

"Not really? What would you change then?"

"I wouldn't have a bloody big hole in my armoury wall for one thing,"
he muttered, then rolled his eyes as Trip laughed. "And…" his voice
trailed off and his gaze dropped to the floor again.

Trip felt his breath catch and forced it out along with a question.
"And what else?"

He shook his head. "Nothing, although I'd rather not be this tired."

After a frustrated sigh and a few moments staring at the ceiling Trip
stood up and walked over to the control panel. Pulling it off, he
began to tinker with the controls, trying to get the lift moving
again. He was unsuccessful, much to his dismay, and surprisingly
enough, Malcolm's amusement. "You just gonna sit there laughing at me,
or are you going to help me out here."

Malcolm stood up again, with a disettling glimmer in his eye. He
walked towards the control panel, reached up, and hit the comm.
button. "Reed to engineering."

Trip rolled his eyes.

"Yes sir," Hess's voice replied.

"It seems that the turbolifts have decided to trap myself and our
Chief Engineer between floors. Any idea how long they'll be down?"

"At least another fifteen minutes, sir, sorry. Um, and sir?"

"Yes Lieutenant?"

"The problem's down here. Please try and keep him away from the lift's
control panel."

"I can hear you Hess," Trip said, stepping up beside Malcolm and the
comm.

"Right, sir. Fifteen minutes, Hess out."

"You heard her Commander," Malcolm said, turning to him with a grin,
"step away from the control panel."

"You're finding this really funny, aren't you?"

"Actually, yes."

"Fine, we'll just stay here, stuck in the lift with you laughing at
me."

"Precisely."

Trip was about to cross his arms and step back to glare at the armoury
officer properly, only to realise just how close they were standing
right now, at which point, stepping further away no longer seemed like
such a good idea. Instead, he stepped away, retreating to the other
side of the lift, leaning against the wall. Which wasn't such a good
idea either, because he remembered how tired he was and then just sank
to the floor again. After a moment, Malcolm mirrored his action and
then looked at each other across the space of the lift.

"Do you think it'll always be like this?" Malcolm asked suddenly.

"Like what?"

"Getting sick on alien planets, blowing holes in our own ship, strange
electronic storms, and broken turbolifts?"

"Oh, you mean like THAT."

Malcolm smiled.

Trip looked at the expression and thought about everything they'd been
through over the past few days, everything they'd been though since
leaving Earth, and most especially, everything they'd been through
together, just the two of them.

He thought about holding Malcolm in their sleep, about helping him
into bed, and about lying on top of him on the armoury floor.

Would it always be like this?

"I sure hope so," he answered with a grin, loving the sound of
laughter that he got in return.

Loving the sound, loving the sight, loving Malcolm.

He looked at the other man, took in the expression that was gazing at
him fondly, and shook his head at the obviousness of it all. Trip got
to his knees, and crawled across the turbolift to where Malcolm was
sitting. He took in the now confused, curious look, and the
delightfully pink shade of the other man's cheeks, and then smiled
before leaning in to kiss him.

Malcolm gasped, just a little, and then one of his hands was in Trip's
hair, the other wrapped around one of the engineer's wrists, with both
holding on as if they were never going to let go.

Which was more than all right with Trip.

Malcolm gave him a pleased, but decidedly assessing, look as they
broke apart, and then shook his head with a chuckle. "After how long
I've been thinking about this, you just walk over here and kiss me.
Was it really that easy?"

"First," Trip said, returning the happy expression, "I crawled over
here, and second, did you miss your own 'getting sick, blowing holes,
electric storms, broken lift' schpeel? You think this was easy? I
think it took a whole lotta disasters for me to realise how long I'VE
been wanting to do that."

"You're right," Malcolm agreed far too easily, "you've been rather
slow on the uptake here."

"Don't worry," Trip replied, shifting so that he could pull Malcolm
closer. "I don't plan on being slow about getting' anything else up."

Before Malcolm gave a response to that, the lift began to move again.

"Not quite the kind of 'up' I had in mind," Trip muttered as he got to
his feet.

"A moving lift does get us closer to our quarters though," Malcolm
replied easily as he also stood. Trip looked over at him, at the way
he was still gloriously rumpled, but decidedly more alert, and his
gaze warm.

Oh yeah, quarters and his bed were sounding really good again, for a
whole different reason this time. He wasn't feeling the slightest bit
tired anymore, and things were definitely stating to look up.

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End -- Directions series