"Nice turnout."

"Yep, it's been awhile since we've all had a chance to kick back and relax some." My body language mirrors my words. I'm slouched down in my chair with my legs stretched out far in front of me, feet crossed at the ankles. "Course, its not like there's anyplace else to go..."

The idea for a party had sprung up during one of many uneventful shifts. At first, it had actually been nice to have a break from all the excitement Enterprise had seen lately. But as more and more days went by in the uninhabited sector the ship was now passing through, the crew had almost begun to wish for a Suliban ship or two to cruise by. Almost. A diversion was necessary. There were, after all, only so many drills and diagnostics you could run.

The noise level in the room is high, and the assembled crew is in good spirits. Loud music is playing, people are dancing, and a group is gathered around the audio playback system, arguing good- naturedly about each other's taste in music and what to play next. Chef has done his usual superb job with the food; there's a long table spread with a wide variety of hot and cold appetizers, finger foods, sandwich fixings and dessert trays.

I'm sitting with the Captain at one of many tables positioned around the edge of the room. I start to scan the crowd in what I hope is a casual fashion. Searching, but trying not to be obvious about it.

"He'll be here, Trip."

Damn, I was busted. "What was that, Cap'n?" I look over at Archer with a carefully blank expression.

"Party just got started, Trip, give him some time. You know Malcolm, he has to recon the area before he makes his entrance. Besides, he knows you're here." Did he actually just waggle his eyebrows at me?

I pick up my beer and take a long drink before setting it down and staring across the table into the Captain's amused face. I open my mouth, think better of it, and drop my eyes to the table with a sigh.

"Damn Jon, am I that transparent? Here I thought I was being all discrete and everything."

"Oh, you have been, but I've known you too long, Trip. If it makes you feel any better, I don't think anyone else has noticed."

"Oh yeah, that makes me feel a whole lot better." I'm silent for a minute. "So... whaddya think?"

"About what? My best friend having a relationship with another man? Or my Chief Engineer making goo-goo eyes at my Weapons officer?"

"What! I do not make goo-goo eyes..." I'm outraged for a second, then I subside with a sigh. "Both I suppose."

"You know my position. As long as duty performance isn't adversely affected, I keep my nose out of my crew's private affairs."

I think he's got that written down on a card somewhere. "And... the other?"

He actually laughs at me. "Damn Trip, how many nights have we spent hanging out in bars? You don't think I have eyes? I saw who you hit on. And who you didn't." Archer pauses, then goes in for the kill. "Hell, you even hit on me, once."

I was starting to take another mouthful of beer, but the bottle halts halfway to my lips as the words sink in. I goggle at Archer, horror and embarrassment vying for control of my expression. Where were the damn Suliban when you needed them?

Archer throws back his head with a triumphant laugh. "You don't remember, do you? I guess I should be offended. Though I'd never seen you quite that drunk before..."

"Oh shit..." I drop my head into my hands, working out in my mind where the nearest airlock is. "Jesus, Jon, I never... I wouldn't... I'm not... shit, I'm sorry Jon." I stop sputtering and chance a look up at Archer's face. See the huge shit-eating grin plastered on it. "You son-of-a-b..." He deserves the beer shower I nearly gave him.

"Damn, almost had you that time." Archer's expression is unrepentant. "Seriously Trip, what you two do on your own time is entirely your own business. And Malcolm's certainly one very fine looking man." What is with the man's eyebrows? "Speaking of the devil..." Archer trails off and glances significantly across the room.

I shoot him a suspicious glance before looking toward the door. The devil in question is standing just inside the door and he's already seen us. Malcolm looks hard at me, an unreadable expression on his face before he glances over at the Captain. I don't know what he sees there, but he immediately shifts his gaze back to me and I swear he's blushing a little. I smile and incline my head toward the table in invitation. He nods once, then continues on into the room, heading for the buffet tables. I admire the view. Devilish indeed. The black leather pants tonight. Oh my.

"You're a lucky man, Trip." Ooops, busted again. "Well, unless you're in Shuttlepod One." Damn the man. Although now the words lucky and shuttlepod are bouncing around together inside my head. Hmmm... I shake myself and give the captain a long considering look. "Sometimes, Jon, I think maybe I don't know you at all."

"I'm a complex man," Archer agrees mildly, "And right now I think I'll go see what Chef has to offer while there is still something left." He stands up as Malcolm approaches the table, tray in hand. "Hey, Malcolm, have a seat. Did you leave anything for the rest of us?" he jokes, looking at the heavily loaded tray.

"Chef prepared plenty, sir. Although you may want to get something soon, I believe I saw Ensign Mayweather heading in that direction." As the Captain hustles off, Malcolm sets his tray down and slides into the seat next to me. I realize that he's placed his back to the wall and is facing the door. With a tolerant shake of my head, I give Malcolm a knowing look. "Tactical position, Lieutenant? Expecting some action tonight?"

Whatever thoughts I have about Malcolm's response to my teasing are blown away when he leans toward me and those stormy grey eyes lock mine in a heated gaze. I feel a hand stroke teasingly up my inner thigh and it does a quick but thorough package check under the table. Over the loud roaring sound of what must have been the entire blood volume in my body rushing south, I dimly hear his husky voice say "I'm counting on it, love." I stare dumbly at Malcolm, shocked into stillness by his totally unexpected action.

The sly smirk that never fails to jump start my heart appears on Malcolm's face as I blink and shake my head slightly, trying to bring reality back into focus. "Damn, Malcolm...." I breathe out shakily. "What's got into you tonight?"

The smirk gets bigger. "Nothing... yet." And ohmigod, yes, there it is. Malcolm deliberately winks at me and pats my leg as he takes back his hand. "See anything you fancy?" The expression on my face must be priceless. Then I realize he is gesturing at the tray. Oh right, food. My mind is reeling. We've been together for what, nearly three months now? I've seen lots of Malcolm's moods: serious, happy, angry, sad, horny. But this playful, sexy, uninhibited Malcolm, in public no less, is more than my few remaining functioning brain cells can comprehend. I stare slack-jawed at the smirking Brit beside me until I gather enough of my senses about me to take a frantic look around the room to see if anyone is watching us.

Malcolm serenely places a couple of the plates in front of me. "I thought you might like these. Try the pasties, they're quite good." He picks up something from his own plate and bites into it with relish, watching me as I run a hand through my hair and try to make the bulge in my lap a little less obvious.

"Thanks for the food, Malcolm. 'Specially seeing as how I can't exactly go get anything for myself right now." I pause and take a drink from my neglected beer. "So what's goin' on? I thought you didn't like 'excessive' public displays of affection?"

Whatever reply Malcolm might have made is cut off by Archer's return, accompanied by Travis. While they exchange greetings, I chance a look at the captain's face and immediately wish I hadn't. The Captain has apparently missed none of the evening's entertainment. I swear I can actually feel myself turning red, so I switch my attention to my other table mates. Malcolm has stopped eating in mid- bite and is now staring in fascinated horror at Travis. The young ensign's tray is truly overflowing with food and he's tucking into it with undisguised enthusiasm. Feeling our eyes on him, Travis looks up and says, "What? I'm hungry, besides, I missed lunch." He pauses. "I am still a growing boy, y'know." The resulting laughter lightens the mood and we spend the rest of our meal in good-natured conversation.

I finally push back my chair and stand up. "I'm gonna get a refill; anyone else want anything?--To drink?" I amend hastily, seeing the evil look on Malcolm's face. That damnable grin is stuck to the captain's mouth again and is that Travis stuffing the last of his dessert into his mouth to smother a laugh? As I collect the drinks, I give serious thought to calling Phlox to report my suspicions that the ship has been invaded by body-snatching pod people. I've just returned to the table when I hear someone call my name.

"Commander Tucker, could we borrow you?" Hoshi Sato is standing with a small group of people, looking expectantly at me. I look from her hopeful face to the three grinning idiots at the table and quickly make my decision.

"Uh, if y'all will excuse me..." I start off toward Hoshi. I swear I could hear a familiarly accented voice say, "By all means, your public awaits," before the loudness of the music drowns out all but close-up conversation.

"Please Commander, we figure you're our resident expert, and we just can't seem to get it quite right." Hoshi looks at me pleadingly.

"Well, I dunno about me being any kind of expert...." I demur, but Hoshi trains her best bambi eyes on me and I fold. "I can't promise anything, I was never that good at it. Besides, it's been a long time since I've done this."

"I'm sure you'll do fine, sir," she says, hustling me up to the group beside the area serving as the dance floor. For the better part of a half-hour, I sweep person after person onto the dance floor to show them how to do the two-step. The things I do for Starfleet. It has been a long time since I've danced and I'm enjoying myself. My latest dance partner stops, thanks me nicely and hands me off to the next person. I look up and blink in surprise. The strangest evening of my life has just gotten downright bizarre. "Sub- Commander? I didn't know... do Vulcans dance?"

I swear she sniffs at me. "There are ceremonial occasions where it is appropriate. However, I find this activity... of interest. I have been familiarizing myself with the movements, but if you are uncomfortable..." T'Pol stiffens and starts to back away. I step forward and hold out my hands, offering but not grabbing. "No, no, please. Be my pleasure. Shall we?" T'Pol hesitates slightly, glancing over my shoulder, before she grasps my outstretched hand. She barely raises an eyebrow when my other hand goes to the side of her waist. There's a decent crowd on the dance floor now, but I feel like the eyes of the entire crew are on us. There's some awkwardness at first, but T'Pol is graceful and a quick study and we're soon moving smoothly around the floor.

I hear the current song start to wind down and am just about to tell T'Pol I need a break, when I see a hand tap on my partner's shoulder. Surprised, I stop and look up to see Malcolm smiling brightly at us. "May I cut in?" he asks, giving me a wink. It isn't until Hoshi has danced away with T'Pol and I find myself with an armful of Malcolm Reed that I realize I've been had.

"Uhm, Malcolm, what's going on? You been drinking?" I'm beyond confused. Malcolm has always been hesitant about our being physically demonstrative in public. I love this gorgeous, obstinate weapons officer more than I'd ever thought it possible to love anyone and I've willingly gone along with his public discretion policy. I never believed it was necessary, in fact, I'd guess a good portion of the crew all ready know we're a couple, but I agreed to Malcolm's rules of engagement because I can't face the possible alternative--not being with Malcolm at all. Yet tonight he seems to have thrown his entire rule book out an airlock.

"Jus' wanted ta dance with mah feller," Malcolm drawls, nailing my accent pretty accurately. "I thought this was dancing." He moves the hand resting on my waist farther south and pulls our hips closer together, providing some interesting friction within the rhythm of the dance. "Perhaps I need more... instruction. What do you think, Professor Tucker?" There it was again, that deadly wink and smirk combo.

"I think I want to know who you are and what in the hell you've done with the real Malcolm Reed." I look seriously into the smiling blue eyes twinkling back at me. "You sure about this, darlin'? Can't put the pin back in the grenade now."

"Very sure." Then Malcolm's joyful smile falters a little. "Are you okay with this? I wanted to be spontaneous, perhaps a bit outrageous, but I don't want to embarrass you. I should have asked ... "

I laugh. "That didn't seem to worry you earlier!" He has the grace to look a little guilty. "Malcolm, I've never been ashamed or embarrassed of being with you. Why would I? I love you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

He gives me a wry smile. "I love you, too. I'm sorry it took me awhile to realize that this," he gestures to the room at large, "is an important part of this." He places his hand on my chest over my heart. "Plus, I'm sick and tired of watching half the crew flirt with you."

"Staking your claim, are you?" I laugh at his expression. "I'm glad you finally came around, darlin'. I guess I should be grateful you didn't consult Porthos first." Malcolm's smile turns dangerous. "Besides, lots of folks have all ready figured it out for themselves." He feels so good in my arms; I can't imagine ever letting him go. "C'mon love, let's dance." We move together around the crowded floor, lost for awhile in the music and each other.