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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-04
Completed:
2006-02-10
Words:
6,435
Chapters:
5/5
Comments:
1
Kudos:
15
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2,627

Deep Blue Sea

Summary:

The Enterprise has a talent show.
Status: Complete
Feedback: Always, please, please, please!
Disclaimer: Not mine, more's the pity.
Spoilers: Nothing.
Beta: Not with my lack of patience.
Comments: This was written for a long ago ML challenge. All parts of this series are wrapped around a song. For the part, the song is "Wave Over Wave" by Great Big Sea (the version I always think of, anyway), and the lyrics have been included at the end of the fic.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: As the Sea Will Allow

Chapter Text

Deep Blue Sea 1: As the Sea Will Allow
by ShoSen

"I think it's a good idea," Trip said, trying to cheer Malcolm up after the notice they'd all receive that morning.

His attempt, predictably, failed. "And this would be fun if we were children in middle school, not Starfleet officers."

"Aw come on Malcolm, you gotta relax a little."

"I assure you Commander, enforced participation in this ridiculous farce is not going to enable me to relax at all."

"It's just a talent show Malcolm. I would've thought you'd love a chance to show off with your weapons or explosives or something."

Malcolm's sulk deepened. "The captain has placed a ban on all munitions demonstrations of any kind."

Trip sighed, just barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He knew Jon meant well, trying to get their reticent armoury officer to develop, or share, some of his other interests, but the attempts were getting more than a little heavy-handed. As far as Trip could tell, the more they tried to push him, the better he got at pretending he wasn't as much of a mystery to them today as he was on his first birthday aboard ship. Sure, he spent more time with them, but he managed to keep them all talking about what interested them, still giving away very little about himself.

Trip could say for sure that he'd learned Malcolm hated being without a shower and would look into his future if he could, but those weren't exactly startling revelations. Not like the ones they'd shared aboard the Shuttlepod had been, but Trip was hoping he could learn more about Malcolm without resorting to near-death experiences. This talent show was one of those opportunities, though the way Malcolm was reacting, he seemed to think facing death would be a more enjoyable experience.

A thought finally occurred to him, one that really should have presented itself a whole lot earlier. "What are you going to do anyway?"

"What?" Malcolm looked up with confusion.

"For the talent show. What are you going to do?"

Malcolm shook his head. "I have no idea yet."

Trip smiled. "Why do I think you're lying to me to get out of answering?"

"I have no idea Commander; you're normally such a trusting sort." He gave him a sideways grin before shaking his head and picking up his own tray. "I have to get back to the bridge. See you later." And then he left, and Trip watched him go, shaking his own head once Malcolm was out of sight. It was pretty obvious that Malcolm wasn't about to share his talent until the last possible moment.

That prediction proved true, and by the time the crew was gathered in the mess hall for the show, Trip had tried just about everything he could think of, but Malcolm had still said nothing. The more he worked at it, the more Trip began to think that the armoury officer wasn't teasing; he really didn't want to share this with anyone.

Which was even more obvious from his very posture when it was finally his turn on stage, as was the fact that Malcolm really didn't want to be there. It didn't show on his face, however, and when he surprised them all by pick up a guitar and beginning to play, it didn't show in the music either. He was good, which surprised them even more, but when he began to sing along, Trip figured everyone in the room was stunned into silence by the talent he had there are well. Maybe he wasn't quite good enough to play professionally, but certainly good enough to give emotion to the song, and almost good enough that the words themselves didn't matter. It was only when Trip realised the song was a sea chantey that he began to pay attention to the words, and the underlying longing and pain that were the primary emotions being passed on from the singer.

Malcolm's emotions and, not for the first time, Trip began to wonder just what the armoury officer was doing up here among the stars instead of sailing on the waves the song continually praised. He was forced to leave off his own speculations as the song ended, and he joined the rest of the crew in a round of applause that predictably embarrassed the performer. As the rest of the acts moved onto the stage, Trip kept one eye on Malcolm, watching as the armoury officer slowly, subtly, but surely, made his way closer to the door. When the last of the acts were over and the crew began to rise and mingle, Malcolm vanished out the door so fast that even Trip almost missed it. By the time he executed his own escape, the dark-haired man was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn't exactly a deterrent. After all, Malcolm was fairly easy to find during his off-hours.

He was in the armoury, running routine maintenance on the phase pistols. Trip smiled as he watched him, the look of calm concentration and complete contentment that always seemed to appear during this task, and very few others. Thinking back to the song, Trip shook his head. This was where Malcolm belonged, not standing on the deck of a ship in a spray of salt air, but ensconced in an armoury, making sure everything was in perfect working order for when he would need to use it to protect his crew. It seemed pretty obvious to Trip that Malcolm had made the right career choice, but right now, he wondered if it was all that clear to Malcolm.

"Hey there," he said cheerfully, walking up to the work table, causing Malcolm too shift his gaze away from the weapon in front of him.

"Hello," the greeting was not exactly warm, but at least it didn't hold the annoyance that was usually reserved for those interrupting this task, "I thought you'd still be at the party."

"I thought you'd still be there too."

Malcolm scoffed. "I didn't want to be there in the first place."

"Yeah, well, you missed getting congratulations from a new crowd of devoted admirers."

"Precisely why I didn't want to stay." Malcolm sat back and shook his head. "So I was required to learn how to play an instrument when I was younger; I hardly think that deserves the rather insane level of praise it tends to generate."

"Yeah, well, you can sing too."

That earned him a glare of the just-barely-tolerating-you kind.

"It was an interesting choice of song there."

Malcolm picked up the phase pistol again and continued with the maintenance checks. "I don't see why."

"You don't see why, right. Sounded like you wished you were on an Earth ocean instead of up here."

He shrugged.

"Malcolm?"

A polite look. "Yes?"

"If you could, would you go back and join the Navy?"

Back to checking the phase pistol. "I can't."

"Come on, that's not an answer. Would you?"

He sighed. "Yes. If I could go back, eliminate my damned aquaphobia, then I would join the Navy."

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"Well, you seem to really love what you do here; why would you wanna be anywhere else?"

He put the phase pistol down and looked at Trip with pure exasperation. "Whether or not I love what I am doing now is hardly relevant. You can't expect it to sit well with me that I managed to turn my back of the tradition of my family due to my own cowardice."

Trip blinked. "Cowardice?"

"Yes, cowardice. Everything I am now, everything I do, I chose to do because I was too bloody scared of drowning to do what I should. My entire life path has been decided though the directives of my own cowardly nature."

"That's ridiculous. Look Malcolm, I can think of a lot of words to use to describe you, and not all of them are nice, but the last one I would choose is 'coward.'"

He shook his head and picked up the phase pistol again. "You don't understand."

Trip reached out to put his hands over the pistol, accidentally covering one of Malcolm's in the process. He didn't mind at all. "Maybe I don't, and maybe you're not seeing something you should."

"And that would be?" He looked up at Trip now, his eyes set in the look of understated challenge that he seemed to favour in debates like this.

"Maybe you're afraid of drowning because you don't want to be in the Navy, as opposed to not being in the Navy because you're afraid of drowning."

The challenge disappeared into disbelief and confusion.

"Would you have ever been able to choose anything else unless you had something you could blame it on, something you could blame yourself for?"

Malcolm finally looked away, his gaze drifting back down to the phase pistol and Trip's hand covering his.

"I think you're right where you should be Malcolm, and more so, I think you're right where you wanna be. It might make it easier if you stop seeing that as a failure of some kind."

Malcolm looked back up at him with a hesitant look Trip has last seen on a frigid Shuttlepod, right before hearing him admit to never getting close enough to people, hearing that, and knowing that he was letting Trip get just a little bit closer. He held that gaze, hoping, wanting, needing, to get just a little closer still, only to hear the armoury doors open, and feel Malcolm pulled back, emotionally, physically, the phase pistol and the armoury officer's hand both removed skilfully from his grasp.

They looked up to see a junior officer walk by, nodding to them as she walked to the other side of the armoury, the duty shift changing. When Trip looked back to Malcolm, he was running the last check on the phase pistol, apart and self contained yet again, the moment over.

"Anyway," Trip sighed, "I guess I better head back to the party. You gonna stay here?"

"Yes, thank you. Participation may have been required, but the Captain did forget to make socialising afterwards the same."

"I'll be sure to mention it for next time," Trip grinned as Malcolm glared at him,

"Don't you dare."

"See ya later Malcolm." He got a nod in return as Malcolm rose to replace the phase pistol and take out another. Trip watched him for a little while, and then shook his head, leaving the armoury as he returned to the mess hall.


Wave Over Wave (the version I have is preformed by Great Big Sea)

Oh me name's Able Rogers, a shareman am I
On a three masted schooner from Twillingate Isle
I've been the world over north, south, east, and west
But the middle of nowhere's where I likes it best

[CHORUS]
Where it's wave over wave, sea over bow
I'm as happy a man as the sea will allow
There's no other life for a sailor like me
Then to sail the salt sea boys, sail the sea
There's no other life but to sail the salt sea

Well I leave my wife lonely ten months of the year
For she built me a home and raised my children dear
She never came out to bid farewell to me
Or ken why a sailor must sail the salt sea

[CHORUS]

Ah, the work it is hard and the hours are long
But my spirit is willing, my back it is strong
And when the work's over the whisky we'll pour
We'll dance with the girls upon some foreign shore

I've sailed the world over for decades or more
And oft times I wonder what I do it for
I don't know the answer, it's pleasure and pain
But with life to live over I'd do it again

[CHORUS]