Enterprise Ficathon

FIC: Stuck Again

2008-10-03T20:33:09Z

First of all, I want to apologize for being so tardy on my assignment! This is the first fic I've written in awhile and it was harder getting it ready than I anticipated. I hope you like it!

Title: Stuck Again
Author: jenniferlupin
Word count: 4750
Category: gen
Pairing: none, but a glimmer of Malcolm/Whoever You Want if you'd like to see it that way
Rating: PG-13
Beta: Sarah
Prompt: Emiliana asked for "Tucker/Reed friendship, no slash. Both get trapped in Engineering after stopping a warp core overload and while they wait for the crew to get them out, the temperature begins to rise and to stay cool they must remove clothing. Must have the line "I'd feel better if Porthos were half naked with me". Try to keep PG 13, not R."
I think it mostly stayed on target with this.
Archive: none
Time line: First and second season episodes. This is meant to take place early in season two.
Warning: This story has some tech stuff in it. I suck at tech stuff. Very badly. It bears repeating. I suck at tech stuff. I hope nothing's too wonky, but I did want to warn you.

It started out as such a good day.

For what seemed like the first time in ages, I actually got a good night's sleep. Enterprise is an amazing ship, a technological wonder and like any technological wonder, she requires a shitton of maintenance. Ok, so maybe I don't need to be there for every problem and Lord knows I've gotten better at letting little things go. But I still have a lot of work and it's typically not polite enough to only happen during convenient work hours.

The point being that I don't always get a nice uninterrupted night of rest and so I felt pretty damn good that morning when I woke up after eight long and comfy hours. Of course, it doesn't hurt that I had an incredible dream. I don't think I really need to give the details on that, but let's just say, it put me in a fine mood. Then came breakfast with Jon, always a good time that was made all the better by bothering T'Pol. I usually try to push until I see that particular gleam in her eyes. The one that makes them look almost black instead of brown. It's been getting easier as time goes by and it always puts a smile on my face.

My morning in Engineering flowed smoothly. Nothing broke down, nothing blew up. Everyone worked hard and I didn't feel the urge to bang any heads together.

In retrospect, I really should have known it was going to go down the toilet after that.

Well, actually, it was after lunch that everything went to pot. No, lunch was kind of pleasant, really. Ever since that incident on Shuttlepod one, I've taken to meeting up with Malcom two or three times a week. He's not such a bad guy, once you have a proper understanding of him. I reckon we mostly have the same goals and ideas. Just that we come at them from different angles.

Anyway, we mostly spent lunch arguing about sports. Not the classic European football versus American football or, I don't know, rugby versus basketball. Just that Malcolm doesn't like any sports and I do. So I spent a lively hour trying to convince him of the joy of football (the American kind, thank you very much) while he argued back the benefits of spending those three hours reading instead. Nothing was resolved except I did admit that I liked a nice couple of hours of reading and he admitted to being curious about water polo. Although I think that might be an attempt to understand Jon better. Or maybe suck up to him.

The argument wasn't over when our lunch hour was up, so Malcolm just followed me to Engineering since he had some systems he wanted to look at from there anyway. So there we were, arguing back and forth when all hell breaks loose. Lights flashing, alarms going off and a lockdown procedure going into effect. The doors slammed shut and the warp core started making the kind of sounds an engineer has nightmares about, a sort of ever increasing vibration or whirring noise. Kind of like the core's getting ready to pitch a fit, as it were.

I have to say, the first thing out of my mouth may not have been the most flattering choice of words from Malcolm's point of view.

"What did you do?"

He shot me a dirty look. "I haven't done anything, Commander," he snapped, nodding towards his console screen. "This console doesn't even access the warp core."

"Yeah, yeah," I answered, but my mind was already off the conversation and onto the problem. I'd say Malcolm's mind was too because even as he was bitching at me, he was sprinting to another console and running a diagnostic. That was when I realized that we were the only two people in Engineering. I knew some people were having lunch breaks, but that didn't account for Baker and Xi, the other on-duty engineers.

Still, I didn't really have the time to wonder about it. No sooner had the last 'yeah' left my mouth than the comm unit came to life, spilling forth the very worried voice of Jonathan Archer.

"Trip, what the hell is going on down there?"

Malcolm dashed to the comm and slapped it on for me while I worked.

"I have no idea, Captain," I panted as my fingers flew over the computer. "Something's got the warp core all in a tizzy..." My voice trailed off when I spotted a set of very fishy readings that thoroughly grabbed my attention. My mind flew after them while in the background I vaguely heard Malcolm's dry, yet urgent response.

"And by tizzy, he means the threat of warp core breach."

"Yes, Trip, I don't like the readings I'm getting up here. Do you want me to send T'Pol down?"

"Can't," I spit out distractedly. Honestly, I only barely heard what the man was saying. My baby was in trouble and so were all the men and women aboard her. Beside me, the core's normal steady pulse began speeding up, sending a tidal wave of noise crashing over us, the kind of noise that could drive a man to distraction even if it didn't mean your imminent destruction. Luckily for everyone on ship, I'm a damn fine engineer and just happened to be present for much of the final stages of Enterprise's construction. If anyone could find the problem before it was too late, it was me. And it didn't hurt that I've grown used to working through even the most godawful sounds. Nothing can quite make a horrific tune like a giant piece of machinery breaking down.

"We'll get back to you in a minute, Jon," I shouted over the noise, forgetting in my hurry my vow to remain professional on the job. "Malcolm, I need you over here."

"Just a moment, Captain," Malcom said and a second later, he was beside me, awaiting instruction. That's one of the best things about Malcolm. No matter our differences, we can always pull it together when Enteprise needs us.

The next fifteen minutes were some of the most intense of my time on this ship. Sure, I've experienced hostile aliens and harsh conditions. I've been yelled at, shot at, beat up and hell, I've even been pregnant. But nothing is worse than seeing the ship you're charged with maintaining breaking down and knowing that it's up to you to fix it before it blows into a billion pieces.

But like I said, I'm damned good.

With Malcolm's help, I tracked the problem on both consoles, chasing it through system after system. Come to think of it, the whole situation reminded me of an extremely advanced video game. This is not to say that I lost my focus. But I may have shouted 'Yes!' when we finally isolated the problem to the antimatter containment field or rather to the faulty safeguards put in place to prevent a warp core breach. It took a bit of creative rearrangement to solve the problem, but before long Malcolm and I were finally able to shut down the warp core altogether.

Not the end to the situation certainly. We now had at least a week of work if not more to permanently fix everything and get the warp core back online, but it should have been the end of our immediate problems.

You know where this is going, I'm sure.

When the threat of breach ended, the lockdown in Engineering should have been lifted. Only it wasn't. Malcolm and I both turned towards the doors expectantly once the alarms turned off and that awful whirring sound faded, only to be sorely disappointed. Everything stayed locked up tighter than a tick.

"Trip?" Jon's voice filtered through the comm once again. This time, I stomped over to it and smacked the button.

"One warp core crisis averted, Captain," I announced as I glared around Engineering. "But the lockdown hasn't been lifted. Don't know why yet."

"Commander?"

Malcolm was leaning over a different console. His face was all scrunched up like he was reading something wretched.

"I know," Jon responded to me before I could to Malcolm. "T'Pol's reading some temperature fluctuations."

There was just about too much shit going on for me to stay parked behind the comm unit, so I grabbed my portable communicator and switched to it as I made my way over to Malcolm. He pointed to what had him making that face.

"The temperature's rising," he said. Unnecessarily, I might add, because I could easily see that.

"To be more precise," T'Pol's voice echoed over the communicator. "The temperature is beginning to rise." I rolled my eyes. "I suspect the warp core problem has overloaded the environmental systems on the Engineering Level."

"Yeah, thanks," I snapped. "Are the other parts of the level shut down?"

Archer's voice returned. "No, it's just Engineering."

I've gotten really good at reading his tone of voice. I've even got a sort of Archer Panic-o-Meter, which goes from 'We're A-OK' all the way to 'Say your prayers.' Judging by his tone, me and Malcolm were sitting pretty at 'Uncomfortable, but not deadly.'

"We've already started an evacuation," he continued. "Except for Crewmen Baker and Xi." Ah, my missing engineers. "They're working on the door from the outside. You and Malcolm see what you can do about the heat from Engineering and T'Pol'll see what she can do up here."

I was sorely tempted to ask where Baker and Xi had gotten off to, but I had a feeling I already knew the answer. I really don't care what my people do with their free time, but jaunting off to a handy storage room for a little bump-and-grind while the boss is out required my personal attention. Especially if the ship almost blows up while you're gone.

"Sounds like a plan, Captain."

"Oh and Trip?"

"Yeah?"

"You're certain the ship won't blow up?"

Malcolm smirked at me. His amusement matched Archer's tone exactly, but I knew both men genuinely cared about the answer.

"As certain as I ever am," I replied. Malcolm's raised eyebrow and Archer's silence let me know they weren't all that reassured. Oh well. I'm an Engineer, not a therapist. Let them find comfort elsewhere. Just then, I had an environmental crisis to head off.

"How rapidly is the temperature rising?"

Already the room felt uncool. Not quite warm, but no longer entirely pleasant.

"It went from 21 degrees to 25 since we stopped the breach."

We exchanged a look. At that rate, it wouldn't be long before it was pretty miserable in there.

"Right. Let's get to it then."

I quickly pointed Malcolm in the right direction, setting him to monitoring the systems and making adjustments that would keep the ones still functioning from shutting down. I set myself to trying to fix the problem itself. Outside, I could hear Baker and Xi banging around, working on the door. A flash of annoyance struck me, ending on my tongue before I could stop it.

"I hope it was worth it! The ship almost blew up!"

The rhythm metal on metal sounds stopped momentarily before being picked up again. Malcolm gave me a strange look, but to his credit, managed to do so without lifting his fingers from the console.

"What was that about?" he asked.

"Oh, they snuck off to make out or something," I said. I wasn't really thinking about my words to tell you the truth. Only about 5% of my brain was not focusing on getting that door open. Apparently though, whatever I'd said was kind of shocking to Malcolm.

"Excuse me?" His voice was tinged with disbelief. His violent reaction pulled me straight out of my concentration.

"What?" I looked up to see that his eyebrows had almost flown off the top of his head, though his hands were still moving over the keys. How he knew what he was entering into the system, I have no idea, but nothing was trying to explode, so I didn't question it. "What's the matter?"

His eyes went back to the screen and he was silent for a minute, gathering his thoughts. "You allow your crewmembers to become romantically entangled?"

I snorted. "You make it sound like they have tentacles."

"Commander." He sounded annoyed, so I just sighed and answered his question as seriously as I could.

"There aren't rules against it. Not really," I hedged. "They have the same rank and they aren't hurting anyone." I made a face. "Of course, that was before today. Not that it's their fault this happened, but they should have been here."

Malcolm wiped his forehead, clearing away the sheen of sweat that had built there. "Don't you think that's the reason there are rules against it?"

"Yes, thank you, Malcolm," I snapped. This wasn't exactly the time to be discussing the internal relations of my department, but since we were on the subject, it annoyed me that he felt the need to criticize how I dealt with my own people. "I didn't think it was necessary to stop two people from falling in love, just because they work together."

That seemed to give Malcolm pause. "They're in love?

"Seems like." A droplet of sweat slid down my brow and into my eye. With a grunt of frustration, I rubbed my knuckles into my eyes. I didn't want to check on the temperature, but I did anyway. I could tell the heat was really building now because my undershirt was plastered to my skin and sweat was starting to soak through my outer jumpsuit.

"That's unfortunate," Malcolm said. Of course. Because let's not interrupt work with love. "But they shouldn't be allowed to co-mingle if it's going to affect their job performance. Especially on board a ship like Enterprise."

"Some things are more important than that!" Somehow, my mind still mostly focused on the computer, but now the part that wasn't had to share it's attention between Malcolm and the rivers of sweat pouring down my back and legs. "Or at least worth the risk." The need for air struck hard, tipping past professionalism and into survival. I began tearing at my uniform zipper, frantic to get out of the heavy outer section of uniform. "When you find someone like that, you have to go for it, no matter what!"

"Commander?"

The air felt amazing on my damp skin, cool for the first time in fifteen minutes. But I knew it could be better. With only the shortest pause from typing to scrabble at my shoe laces, I kicked off my boots and wiggled out of the outer uniform all together.

"Trip!"

Malcolm's voice finally caught my attention. He was staring at me, not quite shocked, but maybe like he had been shocked and it was already fading away. For a short pause, we just stared at each other and then finally Malcolm spoke again.

"Are you coming on to me?"

I threw my nasty sweaty uniform at him. He displayed his admittedly great reflexes to dive out of the way, but I almost got him because we were both laughing pretty damned hard. I guess I hadn't realized how tense I'd been feeling for the last hour because let's be serious, it's not easy to keep your temper when you're tense, worried and extremely uncomfortable.

"Just shut up and take off your clothes," I ordered, once I'd turned my mind back to the environmental problem. "You'll feel better."

It seemed like it took a long time to laugh and settle down, but it was probably only 30 seconds in total. Just that everything seems to take a lot longer when you're in an emergency and only later does it seem like time flew by. At least, that's how I feel.

"I'm beginning to think I should file a sexual harassment accusation with Captain Archer," Malcolm commented, though he immediately began to peel out of his uniform as well.

"Why, has Jonny been grabbing your ass lately?"

Malcolm snorted. "Clever."

After that, we mostly stayed quiet for a bit. Due to our combined efforts, the temperature halted its increase. Unfortunately, it didn't start going back down. I had a short conversation with Baker about the door on the communicator, but we both knew they weren't going to have much luck getting the computer to release the lockdown until the main problem was solved. I almost asked him if he and Xi had gotten to the point of stripping out their uniforms, but I didn't want him to deck me later for thinking about Xi standing around in her bra. Not that I didn't, but one doesn't share such information.

"Commander?" This time, when the communicator beeped, it was T'Pol. Believe it or not, I've gotten to the point where I can tell how bad things are from her tone as well. Her voice had what I like to call the 'absolute boredom' tone. Despite the title, this is good for us because it means she's not worried. Or rather, not 'concerned' as she would prefer to call the emotion.

"Yeah?"

"I have developed a plan of action that I believe will end the lockdown and help decrease the temperature in Engineering Deck." I watched as Malcolm shucked off his socks. Even though we were both practically naked, seeing his bare feet against the hard metal floor of my Engine room was weirder than anything. Normally, it'd have made a man look vulnerable, but this is Malcolm we're talking about here. I knew he'd still be deadly even if he were buck naked.

"That's good because it's getting pretty miserable," I answered, while at the same time tugging my undershirt over my head. "We're down to our skivvies in here."

"I see."

Malcolm mouthed the words 'sexual harassment' to me, but I just ignored him. "What's the plan?"

She began to explain her idea, which was pretty complex, but didn't take much time for her to explain because I could almost immediately see where she was going with it. I think the reason I didn't suggest it myself was because of what I said once she got done talking.

"Isn't there a chance that'll just overload the systems even more?" Her idea involved shunting power from everything Malcolm had been maintaining on his console and allowing a backup system to carry the burden of the environmental control while the main system reset itself. I hadn't wanted to do that because I was afraid the back-up couldn't handle the weight of maintaining the external temperature problem and keep the other systems in Engineering from melting down.

"Yes." I just love it when she states the possibility of doom with such certainty. "But it's unlikely. If I transfer power from other systems onboard to the backup, there is better than an 85% chance that it will work."

Great. Now, don't get me wrong, I trust T'Pol to the ends of the universe, but you have to admit, Vulcans have a way of saying things that just make a person nervous. So, when I asked Jon to back her up, it wasn't because I don't trust her, but rather because I sometimes need Jon's confidence to bolster mine. There are times when I'm pretty sure if Jon weren't here, we'd all run for the escape pods.

"What do you think of all this, Captain?"

Jon's voice was holding firmly at 'Don't Worry'. "It sounds like the best option to me, Trip. You could work around the system given enough time, but I'm worried you'd be cooked by then." I looked over at Malcolm. Jon had a point. The two of us could have convinced the computer to shut off the lockdown by the end of the day, but we didn't have any water down here. Already, Malcolm's hair was slick against his skull. Even without his uniform, I could tell he was as sopping wet as I was. I like a good session in a sauna as much as the next man, but eight hours in one would have us both in dire straits by the end of it.

I turned off the communicator. "What do you think, Malcolm?"

He seemed surprised that I asked him his opinion. "Oh well. You know I trust Captain Archer and T'Pol," he said earnestly. I couldn't help myself. Whenever he does that eager soldier routine, it tickles me. Mostly because I know it's absolutely genuine. So I decided to tease him.

"Yeah, but he's not the one that's going to be boiling away if the temperature starts rising again."

Malcolm frowned. "He wouldn't put crewmembers at risk if he could do anything to stop it." His expression seemed distant for a moment and I wondered if he was thinking about when he was stuck to the hull of the ship last month. I didn't like seeing him look that way, kind of sad and lonely, so I slapped a grin on my face.

"That's true. I'm just saying, I'd feel better if Porthos were half naked with me. He'd never let anything happen to his soulmate."

Malcolm nodded solemnly. "That's true."

For a moment, I believed he'd missed the teasing, but when I looked closer, I noticed that lost little boy look had vanished from his eyes. Some kind of guarded look had replaced it and it wasn't until the corner of his mouth twitched that I realized he was trying to hide amusement.

I threw my undershirt at him.

"Captain," I said, calling them back while Malcolm yelped and flung the shirt back at me. "Let's do it before Malcolm and I end up naked down here."

"Alright." He was laughing on the inside, I could tell. "And when this works, you have my permission to go straight back to your quarters for a shower."

"No 'thank God you survived' hugs?"

"Maybe later."

I grinned at Malcolm, started to get my side of the plan prepared and moments later, me and T'Pol executed it. It took ten nerve-wracking moments for everything to fall into place, but it was all worth it when the door to Engineering finally slid open. Baker and Xi stood on the other side, peering anxiously into the room. I wasn't at all surprised to see that Baker was clad only in his underwear. Xi wasn't far behind, though Baker had kindly lent her his sleeveless undershirt so that she wouldn't have to face her superior officer in that bra that I was absolutely not thinking about.

"Hey kids," I said pleasantly. "Go on and get cleaned up. We'll talk later."

I didn't know exactly what I was going to say, but I knew I wasn't going to ask them to break up. Maybe to not work on the same shift if at all possible. I firmly believed what I told Malcolm. Some things are just worth risking. I couldn't ask someone to give up happiness and comfort on a journey that took them so far from home. I know that if I found it, I wouldn't want to give it up, no matter what I was ordered to do. But yeah, Malcolm was at least partially right. We did need some ground rules.

"Yes, sir!" They said it in almost perfect unison and then bolted to safety. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Malcolm looking at me again. It wasn't staring, only contemplating.

"What?"

We stepped out of Engineering together, passing some of my other engineers returning to start repairing everything. They nodded politely, but the tense press of their mouths told me that they were trying not laugh. I don't blame them. Malcolm and I looked like a couple of drowned rats.

"You're going to let them stay together."

"I can't stop them. I'd rather try and regulate what they do than end it completely. That's cruel."

I expected him to be disapproving, but instead, he just looked thoughtful. "What?" I asked again.

"Nothing," he answered, but he was still thinking hard, I could tell. Still, I didn't press it. I know Malcolm is a bit...awkward about romance. Maybe it just never occurred to him that it might be ok to try and find someone. Maybe he already had someone in mind, I don't know. But whatever it was, I hoped he wasn't going to let this job be the only thing worthwhile in his life. After all, he had already come a long way to letting people become friendly with him. I don't like seeing anyone alone, but for some reason, I felt it even more strongly with Malcolm. Maybe because he could seem alone even in a room full of people.

"Come on," I said, clapping his back, then making a face when my hand slid across his sweat soaked skin. "My God, we need to bathe."

"I agree." He flashed me a grin, clearly putting whatever issues he'd been pondering on the backburner. "We have to stop meeting this way."

He had a point. Getting stuck together wasn't my idea of a good time. Still, if I had to be stuck with someone, I didn't mind it being Malcolm. If for no other reason than it's one of the only ways to get to know the man. "I'll say a prayer about it tonight," I joked. "Now get a move on."

We stepped on the lift and back off again, finally splitting off to our separate quarters, but before I get away, Malcolm stopped me. That thoughtful look was back. "Trip?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't agree with how you're going to deal with Baker and Xi."

I wasn't surprised. Maybe a little frustrated, but not surprised. I started to answer him, but he kept on talking.

"But I'm glad we disagree."

And then he turned and marched down the corridor, soon turning out of sight. I just stood there, staring after him. Then I shook my head and smiled to myself.

That's Malcolm for you. He seems so straightforward on the surface, but just a little bit of digging shows you he's full of contradictions. Just that that surface appearance is so well done, so perfected that not many people bother to look below it. I should know, I was one of those people.

Then again, I've always been knotheaded. Although normally it doesn't take nearly freezing to death and then almost boiling alive to show me how wrong I am.

I made a mental note to spend more time with Malcolm and not just having lunch. The universe was trying to point me towards a friend, maybe even a best friend. I didn't want to piss it off even more, otherwise Malcolm and me would end up surrounded by bloodthirsty tigers or hanging from our fingernails over a cliff or something equally horrifying.

Not that it wouldn't fun as long as we survived.

Still, this way was easier.

The End

Trust by Kylie Lee (Reed/Hayes, NC-17), 2 of 2

2008-09-29T02:12:42Z

Part 1

Trust, 2 of 2

Hayes did. They cleaned up and dressed without exchanging more than a few words. Reed tried his communicator again, to no avail. Reed forced himself to meet Hayes's eyes during a brief discussion that found them in agreement about their mission: to figure out who the black-clad figures were, and to attempt to capture one to gain access to intelligence that would help them return to Enterprise. Hayes was keen to interrogate the wearer of the suit; Reed found he was far more interested in the suit itself, with its promise of access to a communications net and a safe transporter. They could capture a suit. Reed could put it on—it would fit his smaller size, but not Hayes's larger bulk—and transport up, then do some reconnaissance until he could somehow beam up Hayes, who would help him hijack the ship. Then they'd contact Enterprise—

Reed realized he was spinning scenarios because he didn't want to think too hard about what had happened. Doing what they'd done had been incredibly stupid on several levels. First, it violated Reed's own policy on fraternizing with fellow crew members. Second, he didn't even like Hayes. Third, they'd made a lot of noise and commotion right next to a site where three hostiles had been just moments before, a tactical no-no. He wasn't even sure how it had happened. One moment they were trying to kill each other, and the next, they couldn't take their hands off each other.

"There are some residual traces of their transport," Hayes said, breaking into his thoughts.

Hayes's matter-of-fact tone and direct, almost confrontational manner told Reed that Hayes was going to follow Reed's lead and pretend that nothing had happened. That worked just fine for Reed. "Does it tell us anything?" Reed asked, trying for reasonable instead of snappish.

"I'm not sure." Hayes hunkered down and scanned the dirt. "I get that diffuse platinum reading that's everywhere, but...it's odd. Different than it had been." He stood up and took a step back, almost deferring. "Why don't you take a look, sir? I'd like your opinion."

Reed activated his scanner as he stopped near Hayes, then frowned at the findings. "That is odd," he agreed. "I wonder. Perhaps the transport somehow interacted with the platinum and left this signature behind." He eyed the telltale spike that his scanner had helpfully graphed for him. "Still, perhaps it would be of use if we could identify their sites of transport. We might find something interesting if we trace where they enter and leave." He looked around briskly. "Major, why don't you confirm these energy spikes over there, where we saw those two figures transport up." He pointed at the other side of the field. "I'll calibrate my scanner for this signature and see if we can track it to more remote sites."

"Yes, sir."

Reed lifted an eyebrow at Hayes's blandness but didn't react. He stole a glance at Hayes as he loped across the field, apparently not at all slowed down by the tall grass. He set the scanner to search for the spike, and it immediately pinged four other sites: the nearby one across the field, where Hayes was headed; the site about ten minutes' walk away, the drop site where the shuttlepods had been; and two other sites.

"Major!" Reed waved an arm. "Never mind—my scanner's found the spike."

Hayes waved back, but Reed noticed he did a sweep before he turned to jog back. Reed also noted that he took a detour, and a sudden eruption in the grass explained why: Hayes had disturbed one of the many animals. It headed right for Reed, a dark shape flashing through the grass. Reed had the presence of mind to hit the button on his scanner he'd prepared for this very eventuality. The animal squeaked in response to the supersonic sound and changed course. It had run into the trees, little legs pumping under a bulky body, by the time Hayes rejoined him.

"It's like the Galapagos Islands," Hayes commented. "Fearless animals."

"I wonder whether they're edible." Reed gazed after the animal with interest. "Ration bars will get rather uninteresting after a few days." Each bar provided a full day's worth of nutrition, but a single bar never filled his stomach. "Of course, it would be like eating a Corgi. An adorable little Corgi."

Hayes shrugged. "If we get hungry enough, we'll eat a Corgi, no matter how adorable." He indicated Reed's scanner. "Do you have a destination for us?"

"I have two." Reed handed his scanner over. "Neither is that far away. I reckon we can circle round this way—" He indicated a direction. "That will take us to the far one first, then this one, and then back round to the home base. But of course I'll keep scanning as we go and see whether there are more sites."

"I see the difference in strength," Hayes noted, tapping the farthest site. "This one is the weakest, so they were there first."

"Another reason to prioritize that site."

"Agreed, sir."

Reed took his scanner back. "I don't require your agreement," he said mildly. "Major."

"No, you don't. Lieutenant." Hayes didn't seem annoyed or flustered. He indicated a direction. "That way, sir?"

"After you." As Hayes started off at his usual breakneck speed, Reed snapped, "More slowly, if you please. I'm not a Corgi at your heels."

He saw Hayes's back stiffen, but Hayes didn't turn around, and he didn't say anything. However, he did slow down to a more manageable pace. Maybe they had managed to communicate after all, Reed reflected. But he also suspected that Hayes's ease with his orders had more to do with Hayes's agreement with Reed on their priorities than a sudden desire on Hayes's part to follow orders without endless questioning.

It took them an hour and a half to find the site Reed had chosen. The trees made a straight approach impossible, and twice Reed had to hit his supersonic-pulse button to scare away the Corgi-style animals, the only large animals that seemed to be out and about during the day. Every time he flipped his scanner to the life sign readings, he found himself and Hayes indistinguishable among the dozens of other nearby life signs, although there were far fewer when he excluded life signs more than three meters above ground level—a simple move he assumed the black-clad figures would take, assuming that they found Hayes and him interesting enough to go looking for.

When they reached the site, they found themselves in another clearing, although this one had no evidence of the strange ceramic cannonballs they'd found in what Reed now referred to mentally as "Travis's clearing," where Mayweather had set the shuttlepod down. A thorough scan revealed nothing.

"They likely cleared away whatever was here," Reed posited as he moved from one area of crushed grass to another. His scans showed nothing except the gradually decaying transporter spike. "Recently, I'd wager."

Hayes was doing his own kind of tracking. "They dragged something heavy from here to here." He paced it out, then gestured to indicate directionality. "Maybe they were assembling something." He stood in a large patch of dead grass, packed down hard. "This is big enough and square enough to be some kind of temporary structure. It was probably here for a few weeks to cause this kind of damage to the grass."

Reed had come to the same conclusion. "Do you think we scared them off?" he wondered.

Hayes shrugged. "Maybe. Probably. The grass is still dead and packed down."

Reed stared around the clearing, puzzled. "I don't understand it. They're not colonizing the planet. That much is clear." He paced the perimeter and found a small, deep hole, then another, and another, in a circle around another area of flattened grass. "Some kind of perimeter fence," he theorized, pointing them out to Hayes. "Or a transporter grid."

Hayes nodded. "Maybe they transport down the pieces, assemble it, and then...do something with it."

"Well, whatever it is, it's gone now." Reed shut his scanner. "And no other transport sites have shown up on my scans. Shall we visit site number two?" When Hayes nodded but didn't begin moving, Reed sighed. "Lead the way, Major."

They walked in silence, with only the sound of their feet scuffing dead leaves and the occasional scurry of a creature as it scuttled or lumbered out of their way. The air smelled rich and heavy, and despite the slightly higher gravity, Reed found himself energized. It felt good to be outside, on a beautiful planet with breathable air, getting exercise. Enterprise would be along within a day or two. He steadfastly refused to believe that anything serious had happened to the ship. Captain Archer and the crew had just been delayed, dealing with whatever the situation was with the alien vessel. Meanwhile, he and Hayes were free. Their duty was to figure out what was going on, although Archer and T'Pol likely had better means, he thought. Boots on the ground in this context did not prove helpful.

He happened to have his scanner out, checking to ensure they hadn't strayed too far off the path to the next target site, when another spike registered, unbelievably strong. "Hayes!" he called, and Hayes immediately turned around to face him. "We've got company," he told the MACO in a barely audible voice. His first exclamation had likely carried. "Someone just transported down. Just one." He pointed. "Close—too close." The snap of a twig emphasized his words.

"Down. There." Hayes pointed to a nearby thicket of bushes. "Quickly. It'll take a second." His hands were already undoing his jacket. Reed tried not to make too much noise as he scrambled into the thicket and lay down. A moment later, Hayes had joined him and enfolded Reed in his arms.

It wasn't like before, when Hayes had lain on top of him, heavy and inert. Now Hayes tucked them both under his jacket, an arm and a leg thrown over Reed's body, half covering him. They lay face to face on their sides, Reed tucking his face away, just as Hayes ducked his head to cover his face with the jacket. The jacket somehow felt suffocatingly weighty, or maybe it was Hayes's body heat. Reed found himself particularly aware of the heat in Hayes's groin, although the embrace had no erotic overtones. He slid his top arm over Hayes's body, careful not to move the jacket that covered them both, and pulled Hayes close. They weren't fighting, after all. It ought to be safe. They lay in an intimate embrace, absolutely quiet. Reed could feel Hayes's measured breath against his cheek. The rustle of leaves sounded suddenly loud, and he heard booted feet tramp nearby, accompanied by the crisp sound of leaves scattering in the wake of footsteps. He glanced at Hayes's face and found him peering out from under the jacket. Hayes's body tensed as the tramp of boots suddenly sounded loud, and a shadow fell over them, although no body broke into the thicket. Reed moved his head slightly, so he could see beyond Hayes's bulk, and he spotted one of the Corgi creatures gazing at him and Hayes with vapid interest. If he could just—

Reed managed to grab a rock with his free hand. He ignored the warning clasp of Hayes's hand against his shoulder at his movement. Reed took aim and managed to hit the brown-furred creature in the side. It wasn't a forceful throw—Reed hadn't been able to generate much velocity—but it was enough. The Corgi creature lifted its head and shuffled away, exiting the thicket, straight into the path of their followers. Reed heard it break into a shambling run, presumably spooked by the black-clad soldier.

The shadow didn't move for a long few seconds. Reed imagined the soldier's disgust: just another false life sign; better keep looking for his human quarry. He might even be checking in with his orbiting ship. He wished he could hear the soldier talking. Then the booted feet moved away, kicking up rustling leaves, very loud in the silence. Hayes's hand on his shoulder blade relaxed, and Reed let himself relax as well. They just needed to stay here for ten minutes or so, their life signs dampened by Hayes's jacket, and then they could continue on their way. He didn't want to look at Hayes, not when they were lying face to face. It reminded him of what Hayes looked like when he was open, not just ready for touch but begging for it, and he preferred not to think about that right now, because then he'd have to think about his own reaction, and it wouldn't do to analyze that too closely.

He adjusted himself more comfortably, and Hayes pulled him closer, their legs intertwined. Reed settled the hand on Hayes's side more comfortably, lowering it so it rested in a buttock. He closed his eyes, signaling to Hayes that he didn't want to talk or otherwise engage. They lay quietly for a few minutes. Reed was still aware of the heat in Hayes's groin, but he didn't sense a spark of interest. Hayes's breath stirred his hair and tickled his ear. A few more minutes of quiet passed, and gradually he began to hear the scurrying sounds of animals, the woods coming back to life now that the black-clad threat had passed. When there was a particularly loud crash, Reed opened his eyes in surprise to find Hayes looking back at him.

"Just a Corgi, I think," Hayes said quietly, his voice more breath than sound.

Reed nodded. Hayes's eyes didn't look flat, like they often did. They held his. Reed's hand descended on Hayes's buttock, and now he felt the heat in Hayes's groin flare. He could smell the rich, heavy scent of Hayes's skin and hair, just like before, when Hayes had lain atop him, only stronger now, because they hadn't bathed recently. He tilted his head, just a little, caught by those eyes, and met Hayes halfway. A brief exploratory kiss turned into a longer one, then a luxurious one that didn't end. Reed felt himself relax, the exact opposite of what he'd expected, because, he thought fuzzily, Hayes had slid a hand into Reed's hair, then gently stroked his jawline with a thumb as his hand lowered to cup Reed's chin. He could not resist the petting.

What they'd done hours before had been hard and fast. Now it was all touch and tongue, a slow ebb and flow that made it hard for Reed to think. Hayes had gotten hard, but he didn't ask anything of Reed. Reed pressed his own hardness against Hayes, hand stroking Hayes's buttock and lower back, but there was no urgency. Instead, they kissed, tongues pressing and then flicking away, only to return. Hayes's scent mixed with his taste, a dark musk that Reed couldn't get enough of, just as he couldn't get enough of Hayes's mouth. He teased and explored, learning Hayes's tongue and teeth, feeling Hayes's excitement rise when he moaned to signal to Hayes what he liked: the touch on his face, the tongue swirling against his, the gentle nip on the lower lip.

Reed was the one who stopped it. They either had to stop or go on, and they couldn't go on, because hostiles had been tracking them. He pressed both hands against Hayes's chest, pushing him away, and moved so that his back tucked into Hayes's body. Hayes understood. He pulled Reed close. His erection poked between Reed's buttocks, hot and long and hard, as his hand pressed against Reed's belly, descended for a moment to cup his erection, and then traveled back up. Hayes rocked for a moment, reveling in touch, and then relaxed. His wet mouth briefly touched Reed's ear, a kind of good-bye kiss, then pulled back. The heat between them cooled as the minutes ticked by, but Reed knew how easy it would be to generate it again.

"I think it's safe," Reed whispered after what seemed like a very long time. He felt drained, as though he'd just come. He could still feel the trace of Hayes's hand on his face. He was glad Hayes couldn't see him.

"Yes." Hayes pulled back, released Reed, and sat up. "Yes, sir," he amended.

Reed put his arms on his knees and gathered himself. "All right," he said at last, still not looking at Hayes. He tried to school his own features to professionalism. "How many were there?"

"One that I could see, Lieutenant." He imagined Hayes's flat eyes, his noncommittal expression, only they morphed into eyes locking with his own, disinterest replaced with desire. If it had been a long time since he'd touched anyone, it had been even longer since simply kissing had been its own event.

Reed forced his mind into action. "He came down close by. I doubt it was coincidence."

"Tracking us?"

That's what Reed suspected. "Maybe. Until we damped it with your passive bioshield."

Hayes ticked off the possibilities. "Communicator, scanner, phase pistol power cell, our own personal biosigns, or general life signs."

"I thought the latter," Reed noted. "Because when I coaxed the Corgi out, he lost interest." He finally turned to Hayes, who looked his professional self, not the man who, just minutes before, had been kissing him with such sweetness and passion that it made him light-headed just to think about it. "What do you think, Major?" he asked, meeting Hayes's eyes directly.

Hayes didn't look away, eyes flat and hard, once again the soldier. Reed couldn't reconcile these two Hayeses.

"Impossible to say, sir," Hayes opined. "The jacket dampened whatever it was they were looking for, so they had to revert to life signs."

Hayes was right. Reed sighed. "Best get on to our second target," he decided.

"Yes, sir." Hayes stood up.

Reed ignored his proffered hand and pushed himself to his feet, then took a long few moments to brush himself off.

"Wait!" Hayes said sharply just as Reed was ready to order him to take point.

Reed had heard it too: a faint mechanical buzz, too near for comfort. He had his scanner out in record time. "Another transport down," he whispered urgently. "Closer to our location this time." Was it coincidence that they'd just left the security of Hayes's passive bioshield? Unlikely. His eyes darted to the copse where they'd sheltered, but he dismissed it after only a second's consideration. "No time," he snapped, shoving the scanner into his pocket. "Take cover. Let's execute our plan." They hadn't discussed the specifics, but they didn't need to. "If it's a single soldier, we take it out. Two or more and we split up. We'll rendezvous by Travis's meadow at sundown."

"Aye, sir."

Hayes faded into the trees as Reed chose a direction. He thought he sounded ridiculously loud as he crunched through the leaves, so he tried to keep his steps small and light. He mentally sited the transport his scanner had logged, then circled around.

There. A black-clad figure stood stock-still under a tree, head tilted up. Reed followed its gaze and suppressed a smile. One of the many tree-dwelling creatures froze on its perch on a limb above the figure, then scurried, froze, and scurried again. Another life sign to dismiss. The black-clad figure touched its helmet, as if adjusting it, and turned around. Reed saw Hayes then. The MACO had waited for the solider to turn away and was now moving closer to his target, using trees as cover.

Reed slid behind a large tree, its trunk as big around as a sequoia on Earth, as he reached for his last shock grenade, only to realize that he no longer had it. His mind sputtered for a moment as he fruitlessly patted his pockets, because the shock grenade had been his plan. Then he remembered that Hayes had it. Hours ago, Hayes had picked it up while he'd gotten dressed. He hadn't seen what Hayes had done with it, but Hayes would never let a good piece of ordnance go to waste. He had probably stashed it next to his sample jars.

He hunkered down low, slid onto his belly, and cautiously peeked around the tree trunk. It was all up to Hayes now. Therefore, Reed had to be the distraction. He had to give Hayes an opening.

The black-clad figure's head turned to one side, then to the other. To Reed's dismay, it then focused right on his location, although it didn't seem to see him. He crept back and retreated to another tree, then circled around to another. The third time the figure changed course to follow Reed, Reed knew that he'd been sussed. The figure was tracking him.

Time for Plan B: higher ground. It was hard to climb a tree without shaking it, but the boles of the larger trees had such large circumferences that nothing could move them. The problem was reaching the bottommost branches, which were all above his head. He managed to grab the lowest one after a few leaps. He held on with one hand for a long second, cursing the higher-than-normal gravity, before he was able to pull himself up.

Just in time. He'd only just situated himself when the figure came to rest at the foot of the tree. It did the same scanning movement that Reed had seen before, a slight side-to-side turn with its head, the blank helmet revealing nothing. The inside of the visor probably contained telltales, ultraviolet, heat sensors—all the tech a supersoldier could want.

Reed had his phase pistol ready as he spared a glance behind the figure, trying to spot Hayes. Where was he?

When the visored face tilted up instead of from side to side, Reed didn't waste time. He shot the soldier full in the face, holding the blast there for long seconds, until the pistol's mechanism automatically shut down the beam. The figure froze, just as the others had before, its arm raised halfway. In a perfect universe, Hayes would now leap out and subdue the alien.

Hayes didn't leap out.

Reed scrambled forward and pushed off the branch. His aim had been good, although he'd gone for speed rather than accuracy. He dropped atop the alien, crashing into it with enough force to knock it down, and he found himself atop an unmoving black figure. He had only a few seconds to figure out how to subdue it.

"Hayes!" he yelled into the forest. His voice sounded small and lost. "Hayes!"

He saw a stud on the solder's upper arm—the transport mechanism he'd seen them slap. Some kind of tech sheathed the hands and forearms. Sensors? Weapons? He couldn't tell. The helmet mechanism was probably behind the alien's head, because it wasn't in front. He spotted a faint split in the shiny, chitinous surface, some kind of seam, under the left arm. But he didn't see any way to release it. Boots—he discarded the idea of removing the boots, although it looked as though they came off. Lethal tech was rarely controlled by someone's feet.

He was just reaching behind the figure's head for the helmet mechanism when it stirred, the blank visor disconcertingly swinging to follow his face.

He was out of time. Where the hell was Hayes?

Reed pushed off the figure, ripped his weapon out of its holster, took aim, and fired point blank, holding the beam steady until the phase pistol again shut off automatically. Its power cell had grown uncomfortably warm. He'd run it down completely in just another shot or two if he kept this up. As before, the figure froze in place. Reed rolled it over, realizing that the soldier's suit had to be some type of ultradense armor, it was so heavy, even taking the gravity into account. There—the helmet mechanism.

He had just reached down to release it when a lance of light narrowly missed him. He rolled, then scurried behind the tree's bole. A second searcher explained Hayes's absence. He didn't wait to see exactly where his new opponent was but used the time to put some distance between himself and the new threat. There would be two of them now, and capturing a suit would be out of the question. He should have gone for the helmet first.

He paused when he reckoned he'd put some distance between them. If they couldn't track him visually, they'd lose his life signs among the Corgis and all the other animals. In fact, if he curled up instead of moving, even without Hayes's jacket, he had a better chance of being mistaken for one of the larger nocturnal animals. The Corgis didn't go leaping about and running at breakneck speed. They ambled as they snuffed in the leaf litter for food. Reed didn't find the current situation amenable to ambling.

For a few long moments, Reed paused and listened intently. He'd circled around and forded a small stream. It seemed extremely unlikely that the aliens would happen upon him, and yet they did, because he saw the glint of movement off shiny black armor through the trees, purposefully heading right for him.

He remembered the tracking methods that he and Hayes had counted off. Clearly the aliens had more than biodata on him, because they were following him as if they could see him. He couldn't do anything about it if they were tracking his specific biosignature, but that would require information that they couldn't possibly have. That left scanner, communicator, and power cell in phase pistol. If he discarded the phase pistol, he was helpless, but it had only one or two more charges in it, and in any case, he didn't see how it would help him when he had two opponents; he couldn't count on getting two in one shot, and quick bursts resulted in short freezes, not long ones. The scanner contained information that he would rather not let fall into enemy hands. From a tactical standpoint, for example, it was best not to let them know that he had figured out how to track them when they transported. He hastily tossed his scanner and communicator onto the ground, then slagged them both with a quick burst from his phase pistol on the highest setting. Then he tossed the pistol atop the smoldering pile and ran for it.

Hayes. Where was Hayes? If he hadn't been captured, there was only one place he could be: following the soldiers following Reed. He put some distance between himself and his trackers before he circled around. He didn't want them to get a visual, but now that he was unarmed and scannerless, finding Hayes had become a priority. He knew he was incapable of executing the only other plan he knew to be an option: climbing a tree and waiting patiently.

He almost ran into the third soldier. He managed to evade notice more by luck than by skill, but it was clear that finding him and Hayes had become the aliens' priority. But it gave him hope for finding Hayes, because if Hayes hadn't been following Reed's pursuers, he'd been trying to shake his own tail. He paused by a stand of some kind of flowering bush, half concealing himself in its trailing foliage, squinting into the depths of the forest to see how far behind his pursuers were, when a hand slid over his mouth and he was jerked backward.

"Shhh," someone whispered into his ear. "They're tracking biosigns." The hand lifted so Reed could speak.

"I deduced as much," Reed, voice low, told Hayes tartly.

"Here, sir." Hayes enfolded Reed into his arms, adjusting the jacket around both of them as he pulled Reed deeper into the stand of bushes.

Reed put his arms around Hayes and put his lips right next to Hayes's ear. "I destroyed my communicator and scanner, and I'm unarmed—I left the phase pistol behind. It was almost out of charge." He felt Hayes nod. "If they have biosigns, we either have to stay like this, shielded, until Enterprise gets here—" His tone, he hoped, let Hayes know that Reed had no intention of doing so. "—or we have to take them out." He quickly told Hayes about the seam under the suit's left arm, as well as the helmet mechanism. "Their weapons are in their gauntlets, so we likely can't disarm them or use their own weapons against them," he concluded.

"Three is risky." Hayes's breath ruffled Reed's hair. Hayes had to bend his neck sharply to come to Reed's height.

"Are there only three?" Reed wondered. "Did you scan for more of those platinum spikes?" As he asked the question, something niggled at the back of his brain—something about the platinum. The spike seemed to be the result of someone touching platinum, perhaps walking through it, then transporting. The geologists had said that the platinum readings were oddly diffuse; maybe it was just a quality of the planet, and if Reed or Hayes transported, they'd leave the same signature, because the dirt here seemed to be imbued with platinum. Reed didn't know enough about the substance to know whether this seemed scientifically plausible, but he doubted it.

"Yes, only three," Hayes confirmed. "I can check again in a minute."

"We can get all three with the shock grenade," Reed asserted confidently. "You do still have the shock grenade?"

"Yes."

"At the very least, we can remove and take the helmets. That ought to slow them down—from their behavior, I think their tracking tech is in their helmets."

Hayes nodded agreement. "Toss the grenade, sir, or set up a booby trap?"

Reed considered. He could see pros and cons for both. "What do you think, Major?"

"Booby trap." Hayes's lips brushed the side of his face, sending a shiver through Reed, who then had to make a concerted effort to focus on Hayes's next words. "I still have my phase pistol. We can suspend it above some bait and I can shoot it from safety. That'll detonate it. We won't be that far away—we'll have enough time to grab the helmets if we're fast. If we toss the grenade, we'll be too close and get caught in the shockwave, the way we did before."

The timing was going to be tight. They might have as much as a minute once they got to the soldiers' frozen bodies, but not much more. "What do you have for bait?" he inquired.

"Scanner. I can set it to emit something. If I make it strong, it will block all the nearby life signs."

Now that they had a plan, Reed felt hopeful. "I saw a likely site a few klicks back. Should we let them pass?" What he didn't say was that if they did let the searchers pass, he and Hayes would have to remain pressed together, virtually invisible, under the dampening property of the jacket.

Hayes dipped his head, and the brush of lips against cheek now seemed deliberate, not accidental. In response, Reed's hand, of its own accord, stroked Hayes's broad back, shoulder blade to waist.

"No, Lieutenant," Hayes whispered, the faintest hint of regret tingeing his voice. "I think not."

They set out immediately, Hayes following Reed this time. They could likely evade the black-clad figures for a few more hours, but if their trackers were following their unique biosigns, their capture was inevitable, unless they simply settled down and used Hayes's jacket to dampen their life signs. And that solution was just as appealing to Reed as sitting quietly in a tree.

Reed took them back around, using a simple compass to help him navigate, but he left a wide berth so they wouldn't run into their followers. Once at the site, Hayes put the shock grenade in one of the sample jars. Its lid screwed on and had a plastic flap with a hole in it. It only took a second to pop the shock grenade into the jar and feed string through the lid. Suspending it from a handy tree took more work. Hayes hoisted Reed up, and Reed shimmied out on a limb to tie the string from an overhanging branch—not so low that the aliens would spot it dangling overhead, yet not so high that Hayes, an expert marksman, would fail to hit it from a distance. Of the two of them, Hayes was the better shot, and besides, Hayes still had his weapon. Still, Reed wished he was the one taking the shot, because standing around, unarmed, made him feel useless and uneasy.

Reed disguised the string by wrapping it around a small leafy branch, but he'd taken care to leave the sample jar uncovered so Hayes would have a clear shot. As he hung the shock grenade, Hayes programmed the scanner.

"I don't have a delay set," Hayes noted after Reed jumped down to rejoin him. "It'll be a wideband blare. It ought to white out their sensors. At the very least, they'll want to shut it off."

"Good." Reed took a final look. Everything seemed to be in order. "Do you have your station chosen?"

Hayes pointed. "There. There's cover, but I'll have a clear line of sight."

"I'll be over there, then." Reed turned a dark eye on Hayes. "I trust you to take the shot when it's clear, Major."

Hayes had morphed into his businesslike self. His "Aye, sir" sounded like it always did: faintly mocking.

Reed found a good view from a vantage point he judged to be just outside the localized explosion of the shock grenade. He couldn't see Hayes. He settled in and prepared to wait, but he couldn't help wishing he had a weapon. It had taken all his self-control to leave the phase pistol with Hayes instead of taking the job of shooter for himself. The mission came first.

The wait wasn't long; perhaps ten minutes had passed when the first of the black figures made its way into Reed's line of sight. Reed frowned when he saw that it was alone. To his surprise, it didn't head right for the scanner, which Hayes had hidden under a loose pile of leaves. Reed supposed he'd be wary too. The situation had all the earmarks of a trap. The soldier stayed well away, but it kept its body faced toward the scanner as it moved. Reed kept low as he matched the soldier's trajectory, darting for cover from tree to bush, glad it was not looking around but seemed focused on the scanner. He knew the location of the helmet's catch. If Hayes could take out the other two, he could take out a single soldier—as long as the scanner remained on and his biosigns were thereby dampened.

As if on cue, the other two figures approached. Again, Reed wished he could hear the aliens speaking. The blank visors gave no clue, and neither did their body posture. One kicked a broad swath of leaves, sending up a cracking wave of leaf litter, took a step, and did it again. They seemed to be having trouble pinpointing the scanner, probably because of the wideband blare it was emitting. That was good, Reed thought; otherwise, they would have just shot it.

The first figure, the one Reed shadowed, hadn't joined its fellows. It was outside the effective blast radius of the shock grenade. Of course Hayes didn't know that Reed had the first figure covered. He probably hadn't spotted Reed creeping behind. "Take the shot," Reed whispered to himself, mouth actually forming the words. "Hayes, take the shot." Two down was better than none.

No shot came.

A moment later, the booted foot kicked up the scanner. One of the figures pointed a closed fist at the scanner: he was going to destroy it. Reed only had a few seconds before the dampening field would go down, and his location would be revealed. He was out of time. He had to force Hayes to shoot.

He broke cover and ran full tilt into the lone figure, sending it sprawling. He leaped onto the figure's chest and reached behind the helmet. He pulled the catch free and wrenched the helmet up a few centimeters. He had to turn away as he breathed in a lungful of noxious, burning air, just as the aiming figure fired at the scanner. He felt rather than heard another concussion: the shock grenade going off, powerful even at this safe distance. Hayes had finally taken the shot.

He'd only turned away for an instant. He hadn't been ready for the foul air—the aliens clearly breathed something different than humans. It explained why they had never removed their helmets. The figure under him reached up, grabbed, and rolled. Reed coughed as he inhaled another lungful of burning air. A confused sensation of breathlessness was immediately followed by the unmistakable sensation of transport. Of course—the button on the upper arm he'd seen them slap. When the soldier had rolled, the button had come into contact with the ground and had engaged transport.

He'd just been captured.

When he rematerialized after an agonizing few moments of transport, he immediately doubled over in wracking coughs. The air on board the alien ship matched the air that had leaked from the black-clad soldier's helmet. The soldier disengaged itself from him and reseated its helmet before it stood up. Rather gently, a booted toe shoved him away, clearing the area. He managed to scramble away ignominiously on his hands and knees. Reed didn't hear a command, but the figure shimmered and disappeared, no doubt transporting down to help its fellows.

He lifted streaming eyes that didn't focus well. Two humanoid figures watched him with interest. One came close and pressed something over his nose, and Reed gulped in clean air. He put his hand over the mask and nodded, and the figure stepped back. The alien seemed smaller than the average human, and Reed's first impression was of bland brown: brown, smooth, hairless skin; dark, liquid brown eyes with no trace of white; brown, toothless gums when it opened its mouth, although no sound he could hear came out. Their one-piece uniforms were black, although the two in the transporter area with him did not wear the armor that their fellows did. Reed noticed that he hadn't been shot on sight and felt hopeful.

He took a deep inhalation of air, then removed the mask, holding the small bulb of its small oxygen container steady. "Can you understand me?" he asked, then immediately covered his mouth again.

The figure that had handed him the oxygen mask made a patting gesture with its hands, as if to say, "Not yet," or perhaps, confusingly, "Keep down." Reed frowned, but before he could try again, the transporter activated. Two unmoving figures transported up a few seconds apart. Reed guessed that the alien who had captured him had hit the transport buttons on these two before it went after Hayes. If Reed knew Hayes, he figured that the immobile soldiers had taken extra pistol fire after the shock grenade had taken them down.

Reed sat against a wall, blinking away tears, and watched as the two unitard-wearing aliens cleared the transport area. They popped the helmets off their fellows, revealing others of their species. Although he couldn't hear them speaking, they seemed to be communicating, and the aliens inside the frozen suits were definitely not frozen themselves; they seemed entirely uninjured. He let his eyes wander over the room as the two aliens were helped out of their suits, although professional interest led him to watch how the suits were unfastened: apparently something just inside the neck was depressed and held down, which released the side seam, and the suit unfolded.

He thought he had been transported into a cargo area rather than a bridge. He saw neat piles of storage containers and what looked like antigrav cargo sleds. The tech looked more mechanical than electronic, but Reed found it hard to tell in a cargo area. The walls seemed to be made of some sort of pitted metal; the air was so corrosive that Reed doubted they bothered to smooth and polish it. He shut his eyes for a long few seconds in an attempt to clear his vision, but it didn't help. The minute he opened them again, the air stung, and tears once again rolled down his cheeks. He was in no fit state to execute a daring escape plan.

He'd just decided to try speaking with them again when the transporter pad hummed again, and what he'd feared came to pass: Hayes had been captured. The suited figure carried an apparently unconscious Hayes easily over one shoulder. The black-clad soldier handed Hayes's phase pistol to one of its fellows and stood patiently with his burden while an antigrav sled was brought over. He unloaded Hayes onto it, and another alien pressed a mask over Hayes's face, even as Hayes began to stir and cough.

The soldier pointed at Reed and waggled its fingers in a very human "come here" gesture. Reed got to his feet and, eyes still streaming, followed it as it maneuvered the antigrav sled out of the room and down a corridor. The alien slapped the wall to the side of a door, which slid open in response. To Reed's relief, blessedly breathable air wafted out. The alien made no move to push the antigrav sled through the door, so Reed hoisted up a semiconscious Hayes and manhandled him into the room, which a quick glance revealed to be living quarters. The soldier followed them in and shut the door behind it—no doubt to keep the air from tainting that of their ship, Reed thought ironically.

The soldier set a small sphere onto a low ledge that acted as a table. "Lieutenant Malcolm Reed. Major Jeremiah Hayes." The voice that came from the sphere sounded sexlessly electronic.

"I'm Lieutenant Reed. This is Major Hayes." Reed turned and let Hayes awkwardly onto the bed.

"This room has been prepared for you according to your species' physiological requirements," the voice said. "Can you understand me? Do my words make sense?"

Hayes dragged in a breath and started to cough. His eyes were red, and his nose was running. Reed knew he looked no better. Reed spoke loudly over the sound of Hayes's hacking. "Yes, we can understand you."

"Your ship has given us your biodata. You will stay with us for one day and one night. Then you will be returned to your ship."

Reed frowned, puzzled. "My ship has brokered a deal with you?" he asked at last. "I find that hard to believe. Didn't your ship attack ours?"

"Your ship was in our space," the emotionless voice said, which Reed rather thought was its way of saying "yes." "We had a meeting. Your presence was not welcome. We meet in several hours with clients. Your ship stays a distance away. When our clients go, we will take you to your ship."

Broken ceramic cannonballs. Clients. Nonlethal fire. Biodata on key crew members, given by Enterprise to these aliens. In a flash, Reed got it, and he started to laugh. Hayes stopped coughing and gave him a baleful look.

"You seeded the planet, didn't you?" Reed asked, laughing incredulously. "You filled those spheres full of platinum and shot them onto the surface. Scans from space reveal platinum, and I'm sure when your clients dig, they'll find it too. They'll find it...because you put it there."

The featureless visor merely faced him, of course revealing nothing. Reed turned to Hayes. "Those spikes we saw—that was the transporter signature interacting with the platinum and dust we found near the broken spheres. And of course the spheres are inert to sensors, so they don't appear on scans." Reed made an expansive gesture with his arms. "And along we come, scanning for whatever we might need, and we find platinum just as your deal is ready to go down. The clients are due any moment, and you've got aliens blundering around on the planet's surface and a strange ship in orbit, completely fooled." He had to pause to laugh again. "Major, we have here a crew of long-con artists. I'm sure the traces of equipment we found were there to create a test dig site."

"If you say so," Hayes said hoarsely. He wiped his eyes, which, like Reed's, were clearing. "I can't see Captain Archer worrying too much about a business deal if he gets his people back, I'll give you that. He might have given them our biodata if he thought that he'd get us back unharmed."

Reed turned back to the alien. "Am I right about what you're doing?" Then another thought occurred to him. Archer probably had to pay a little something for their return. "And what did you get for us?"

The voice from the sphere said, "We do not discuss our business with others. We own the mineral rights to this planet. We will sell them to the highest bidder. Your ship did not wish to bid. We have no wish to injure you. You will be returned."

"All right, all right." The translator didn't seem tremendously sophisticated, but it got the message across. "Could we talk to someone on board our ship?"

"No. You will be returned in one day and one night."

"Fine." Reed sat down next to Hayes.

"You will stay in this room."

"Also fine," Reed assured the alien. "We find your air hard to breathe."

"Your needs here are met, but we have no food for you."

This time, Hayes answered. "We have food." If they counted ration bars as food, that is, Reed thought.

"One day and one night."

The alien took the sphere and, to Reed's dismay, both masks before it departed. The swirl of noxious air forced into the room by the door's motion set them both coughing, but the room's ventilation system quickly cleared it. While Hayes settled himself as far away from the door as possible, Reed examined the room. "'Your needs here are met' translates as, 'You have an empty bucket and a bucket of clean water,'" he reported. "And—" He tried the door. "Locked."

"Of course."

"I actually preferred being on the planet's surface," Reed said, pacing the length of the small room. "Fresh air to breathe. Corgis to play with." He paused by the bucket of water. "Do you have a sample jar?"

Of course Hayes had a sample jar. Hayes silently proffered one from the limitless supply he apparently carried with him at all times, and Reed scooped out some water and took a sip. "It's fine—tepid, but palatable," he opined. He refilled the jar and handed it to Hayes, who drank some and then used some to bathe his eyes.

"Why did you attack the soldier?" Hayes asked, wiping his face. His eyes were bloodshot. His face now sported stubble, which made him look less clean-cut than usual—they probably both did, Reed amended.

"Because you didn't take the shot."

"I couldn't see you."

"You should have taken the shot."

"I couldn't see you," Hayes repeated. "You didn't trust me to take the shot."

"And you didn't trust me to be in position to take out the third soldier," Reed snapped.

Hayes drank down the last of the water. "No, sir," he said at last. "No, I did not. I waited until the last second in case the third soldier moved into position within range of the shock grenade."

Reed crossed his arms, fighting for control, because Hayes had gone cold and bland, and that, Reed now knew, meant he was angry. "We weren't fighting a fair fight, Major," he told Hayes. "Captain Archer gave the soldiers our biodata."

"That's really not the issue, is it, sir?" Hayes set the empty sample jar down deliberately, then stood up, a little too close, a little too loud, a little too aggressive. "I suggest preparedness drills, and you decide I want your job. I go over your head when I know you won't hear me out, and you decide I'm subordinate." He dropped his voice. "Everything I do, I do for the safety of the crew."

"In your opinion."

"Yes, sir. In my informed opinion." Hayes took a step closer, looming over Reed, using his height as a threat. "And now I discover that you took a risk because you didn't trust me to carry out my part in a mission that we had agreed on." He lifted his hand, as though to tap Reed on the chest, but he stayed the motion. Instead, he put his hands on his hips. "I will always have your back, Lieutenant."

"But you won't, Major," Reed burst out. "You'll decide my orders aren't worth following. If you don't like them, you argue."

"So you want unquestioning obedience."

"Yes," Reed hissed. "Yes, in fact, I do. When I issue an order, I expect it to be followed." It was his turn to take a step forward. Their voices weren't loud, but they were low, harsh, and angry. "You have a certain amount of autonomy over the MACOs. But ultimately, you report to me, as head of security. You are there to back me up, not question my every move. Your assumptions that I am inept offends me." He threw up his hands. "Excuse me! We have already had this conversation. You don't find me inept; you find me soft. Forgive me for mischaracterizing your opinion of me."

"I doubt you care one way or the other what I think of you."

"You're right. I care only insofar as it affects my relationship with Captain Archer." Reed tilted his head. "If you continually go over my head and voice your...concerns, then..." He let it trail off, the threat implicit. "Make no mistake, Major. Whatever passed between us down on that planet doesn't change the fundamental problem between us. You won't follow orders, and I won't have that. And we don't trust each other. I would trust Travis Mayweather, Jonathan Archer, Commander T'Pol, Trip Tucker, Hoshi Sato, even Doctor Phlox with my life. But I do not trust you."

"It's strange what you trust me with," Hayes murmured. "Lieutenant."

Hayes brought up a hand, fast, but Reed knocked it away easily. He struck at Hayes's jaw, but the dance was just that: a dance. Hayes evaded the blow, grabbed the front of Reed's uniform, and pulled him in. Reed let himself be pulled. The scorching kiss that followed proved to Reed that with Hayes, cold preceded heat. Hayes pulled Reed's uniform down to his waist. Reed tugged Hayes's familiar, heavy jacket off, then found Hayes's waistband, fumbling as he undid the unfamiliar trousers. He nearly tripped as he stepped out of his boots, but Hayes steadied him by pulling him against his body, pressing Reed against his long, hot erection.

The bed was too small, but it didn't matter. Reed gasped when Hayes ran a stubbled cheek down his chest, then lower, and he gasped again when Hayes took him in his mouth. He thrust up, one hand tangled in Hayes's dark hair, the other pressed against Hayes's neck, deep into Hayes's mouth and swirling tongue. He moaned when, a few minutes later, Hayes pressed a finger deep inside him. The shock that went through his body was almost like orgasm.

"It's all right. Yes," he gasped when Hayes lifted his mouth from Reed's hardness, and he let Hayes turn him over. The finger returned, finding his center, and he heard Hayes prepare himself. Then the slick, blunt head of Hayes's cock pressed against him, relentless, and a moment later, he'd been pierced. Hayes stayed deep inside for a long moment as they both adjusted to the new sensation. Reed felt it through his core like a thrust of fire.

He put a hand on his own cock as Hayes began to push. Hayes didn't speak—there were no words of endearment, no gasps of "Malcolm" or cries to God. Instead, Hayes's gasps spoke volumes, his broken moans speaking of an extremity of pleasure. Each sound was pulled from Hayes as though against his will, and Reed reveled in it, knowing how desperate the man was for it, how much he wanted it—and with Reed, no one else. Each thrust touched him deep inside, sparking a dark pleasure so extreme that he could make no sound at all, other than that of his ragged breathing. Hayes's large hands pulled apart his buttocks, then stroked up and down his back, then grabbed his hips so he could plunge in deeper, each caress speaking also of power—power to do with Reed as he liked, even as Reed's mounting excitement told Hayes that Reed had given in, if only for this moment.

Hayes bore one hand down between Reed's shoulder blades, and Reed let himself be pushed down as he angled himself back, Hayes's hardness filling him. He realized that in this, he trusted Hayes. Hayes would not leave him trembling on the edge. Hayes pulled Reed into his body hard with one hand on Reed's hip, and Reed felt Hayes spurt deep inside him even as his own balls tightened. A moment later, he fell into ecstasy, his orgasm consuming him, his cock pulsing in his hand. His breath left his body, and all he knew was a strong hand on his hip and a firm, hard length inside him, keeping his body present as his soul left.

Hayes wrapped his arms around Reed's waist as they struggled for breath, finally releasing him when Reed lowered his body weight. He felt Hayes slip out. He rolled onto his back and pulled Hayes down so he could find Hayes's mouth with his own. He pulled Hayes in with an arm crooked around his neck, and Hayes surrendered, letting Reed take the lead as he licked and stroked.

He still didn't trust Hayes with his life. But he trusted him in this. He could give Hayes his body, and Hayes would not hurt him. He would repay Reed's trust with pleasure so intense that he lost breath and voice.

It was a start.

EPILOGUE

"It's good to have you both back," Captain Jonathan Archer said to Reed and Hayes as they stood, unshaven and disheveled, in their less than clean uniforms. Reed stood at parade rest, trying to look awake. The table in the Situation Room was dark. "Do you need to report to Doctor Phlox?"

"No, sir," Hayes said, and Reed echoed the words.

"Dismissed, then. Report to your quarters, get cleaned up, and take tomorrow off." Reed had done nothing more than inhale to make his displeasure known, but Archer staved it off. "That's an order, Lieutenant."

Reed said, "Thank you, sir," but what he really wanted was to get to tactical and make sure everything was shipshape. He could probably sneak onto the bridge tomorrow when the captain went to lunch.

"I would have liked to be a fly on the wall to see you two down there," Tucker commented to Reed as the debriefing broke up.

"We got along swimmingly," Reed said frostily, but Tucker just laughed at him.

Mayweather pounded Reed on the back in friendly solidarity. "You figured out the seeding all on your own," he said admiringly. "It took T'Pol a day to figure it out from the sample I brought up. The canisters had been filled with platinum."

"I admit to being worried when I couldn't raise you on the communicator," Reed told him. "But I knew you'd be along sooner or later."

T'Pol's calm voice answered that comment. "We were required to keep six light-years distant, well out of communicator range."

"Commander, do tell me," Reed said in a low voice to Tucker as they headed for the turbolift. "What did Captain Archer give the aliens to buy our freedom?" He hadn't dared ask Archer himself—at least, not in public.

"Why, nothing," Tucker said, too innocently.

"Trip." Reed slanted a laughing glance up at Tucker and was suddenly aware of Hayes behind him, wooden face betraying nothing. What was it Hayes had said about Reed with Tucker? "Your eyes follow him. You smile when you're with him. You almost become human." Maybe he did, ready to open up to a man who could never want him.

Tucker shrugged. Reed remembered his hair in the clearing, a corona of light. "Maybe some antimatter containment units. Nothing we couldn't spare."

"It's awfully good to have you back," Sato told him as she squeezed herself in next to Reed in the lift. "We were really relieved when we heard they'd captured you." At Reed's look, she added, "That...came out wrong." She pressed Reed's arm and gave him a smile. "We were just glad you were all right. Travis told me that the last shuttlepod couldn't have lifted off if you and Major Hayes had been on there."

"That's why I ordered it to leave," Reed noted. He pressed a button to keep the lift's door from closing. "Major?" he inquired. Hayes still stood outside the packed lift, along with Captain Archer. Commander T'Pol had remained behind, as she had the bridge for the night shift.

"I'll take the next one, Lieutenant," Hayes said. He wouldn't meet Reed's eyes, and Reed immediately lifted his finger from the button. The door slid shut.

"I would not like to have been down there with the two of you," Mayweather commented as the lift whispered on its way. "Plus, you were armed." He gave a mock shudder.

"We were fine," Reed said easily. "See? No broken bones. No black eyes. It was all perfectly civil."

"If you say so." Mayweather responded.

The lift stopped, but when the door opened on B deck, Reed made no move to leave. Every eye in the lift turned toward him. "What?" he asked the group at large. "The captain said to take tomorrow off, but that doesn't mean I can't stop by the armory tonight."

Tucker gave him a wry look and pressed the button to close the door. "I'm not going to argue with you, Malcolm. You probably had plenty of that down there with Major Hayes."

Reed favored him with a glower as the lift began moving. When it stopped on C deck, Mayweather said, "This is me," and stepped out.

"Me too." Sato followed after giving Reed's arm a final squeeze. "Good night. I'm so glad you're back, and safe."

"Good night." Reed gave his colleagues a genuine smile, and then the lift was on its way again. "Heading to engineering?"

"Yeah, got to tuck the engines in for the night," Tucker said. After a beat, he asked, "You don't want to tell me what happened down there? Did you two...you know...talk?"

"You could say that," Reed said cautiously. "You can read my report."

"I will," Tucker assured him. "But the best stuff is never in the report."

"How true," Reed said blandly, earning a grin from Tucker.

The lift door opened, and Tucker got out, only to turn back to glance at Reed, his expression full of concern. "You all right?"

"Nothing has changed," Reed assured the man he considered his best friend, for all that the two had grown apart since Tucker's sister's death in the Xindi attack on Earth. "Hayes thinks I'm soft, but not inept, which as you can imagine is a great comfort to me." When Tucker snorted, Reed admitted, "I still don't trust him with my back. But, we found common ground. Little enough good it did us," he added ruefully.

"He's a good man. A little duty-bound, a little rule-bound, but then again—" Tucker let it hang.

Reed's voice dripped irony. "Ah, we don't get along because we are so alike. Thank you very much."

Tucker shrugged, unapologetic. "Good night, Malcolm. I'm glad you're back safe."

"Thanks, Trip. Good night."

As the lift door slid shut, Reed resisted the urge to watch Tucker walk away. The engineer did like the ladies, and Reed's small advances toward him had been either cheerfully ignored or honestly not perceived as advances. Reed knew he had no hope there, but he found that he minded that less than Hayes knowing about it.

Suddenly restless, he decided he didn't need to check the armory. He punched the button to take him back to B deck and the familiar confines of his cabin. It was exactly as he'd left it: small, cold, and sterile despite the friendly touches he'd attempted, like displays of family photos, his diplomas, and his last few weapons proficiency certificates. The first thing he did was clean up and shave. He wasn't particularly tired; in fact, the day and the night he'd spent in the small room with Hayes had made him restive, for all that he and Hayes had found ways to keep busy. The gym—that was it. He needed to exert himself, to sweat until he was tired instead of anxious.

He pulled on shorts and a T-shirt, then flung a towel around his neck. It was late, and the corridors were quiet as he headed for the lift. Once inside the lift's car, he hesitated only briefly before he directed the lift not to the deck containing the gym, but to the deck where Major Hayes's quarters were. He had never been to Hayes's quarters, but of course he knew exactly where they were. He rang the door's chime without hesitation. Sometimes it was better not to think too much.

It seemed to Reed that the door took too long to open. When it did, Hayes stood there, wearing only pajama bottoms, his face still sporting stubble. He looked tired. He took in Reed in his ratty T-shirt and his too-long shorts. "Lieutenant," he said. His eyes weren't cold but instead appraising.

"I thought I'd go to the gym, but now I find I'm not so keen on the idea," Reed admitted. "Are you alone?"

"Not any more," Hayes said, stepping aside so Reed could brush by him and enter the room. The door slid shut behind him.

"Good," Reed said, reaching for Hayes. The silk of his skin rippled under his hands. Trust was a strange thing, he reflected. "Very good."

Read Surrender, a sort of sequel!