Rating: PG

Author's Note: ENTSTSlash challenge; someone has to have a wisdom tooth out, what sort of patient would he be and who would look after him? And use the line, 'You only look like you've been hit by a small baseball bat now.'

'Get in, damn it.' Trip Tucker cursed as he struggled to replace the recalcitrant panel on the galley's main refrigeration unit.

'Need a hand?'

Tucker jumped as he heard the voice.

'Shit, Cap'n! Didn't your mama tell you not to sneak up on people? Scared the daylights outta me there.' He gave the panel a thump with his fist and it finally slid into place. Scrambling to his feet, he collected up his tools and stowed them neatly in their case. 'All done. But thanks for offerin'.' Tucker picked up the case and joined the captain in the mess hall proper. It was late and they had the room to themselves. Dumping his stuff on a table, Tucker crossed to the dispenser and got himself a glass of milk.

'What are you doing working in the galley at this time anyway, Trip? I thought you were off duty.'

'Yeah, but I promised chef I'd get his refrigeration units upgraded.'

'Scheduled for next week, if I remember rightly. You've got a team on gamma shift down for it.' Tucker shot the captain an 'I'm impressed' look and Archer grinned at him. 'I do actually read engineering reports, you know,' he said dryly. 'So, how come you're here at nearly 2300 hours doing the work yourself?'

'Did a deal with chef. Traded him,' was the curt explanation.

'Traded him for what?' Archer pressed, intrigued.

'Pineapple ice cream,' Tucker said as if that made everything clear.

Apparently it did.

'Ah,' Archer nodded and gave his friend a knowing look. 'And how is Malcolm?'

'A pain in the ass!'

It was said with such feeling that Archer couldn't help laughing.

'I'm not jokin', Cap'n,' Tucker protested. 'When I left him ta come here, it was either that or strangle him.'

'Do you want to talk about it?' Archer asked uncertainly. 'My quarters, over a drink, maybe?'

'Nah. Thanks, but I'd better get back.' He finished his milk and wandered over to the table where he'd left his tools, but instead of leaving he turned back to the captain. 'It's like nursin' a child,' he exclaimed. 'Worse. M' little sister was nothin' compared to Malcolm. He's such a baby!'

'This is Malcolm we're talking about?' Archer was having trouble with the images Tucker's outburst was conjuring up. In his experience getting his armoury officer to admit to being anything less than 'fine' was a minor miracle.

'I know what yer thinkin'. I was expectin' the same. Hell, he's been shot, beaten senseless, pinned to the hull, and all I got out of him was, 'I'm fine'. Injured in the line of duty is one thing. Injured, the man can stoic for England. But sick, that's a whole 'nother story.' Tucker finished with a glare as he saw Archer raise a hand to hide his smile.

'Sorry, Trip. I'm not laughing at you. It's just difficult to picture Malcolm...well, you know?'

'Let me make it easier for ya, Yesterday I took him soup for his lunch; tomato, like he asked for. First of all the colour wasn't right. Don't ask,' he muttered as Archer raised an eyebrow at him. 'Then it was too hot. So we talked fer a bit while it cooled, then...'

'Let me guess,' Archer interrupted. 'It was too cold.'

'Yer gettin' the picture,' Tucker agreed. 'Dinner was more soup, chicken and mushroom all whizzed up to make it easier to drink. It was good, had it myself. Didn't think it'd be very tactful to have a steak while Malcolm can't eat. Did he thank me? Did he hell. Why wasn't I eatin'; didn't I know that just made him feel worse? An' soup for two meals was wrong. An' it was too salty, or not salty enough. Can't remember now.' Tucker was getting into his stride, literally as he started pacing back and forth in front of the captain. 'An' the night. I won't tell ya what the night was like!'

'No, you probably shouldn't,' Archer said, feeling something was expected of him.

'So, breakfast was porridge, which he likes. Not as much as pancakes, but he does like it. I've seen him eat it in here, more than happy. But not today. Today it was too thick. We thinned it down with milk, but that made it lumpy, and too cold. Lunch...' He paused in his pacing and ran a hand through his hair, leaving the normally slicked down locks standing on end. 'Well, yer see what I mean.'

'He's not a happy bunny, is he?' Archer sympathised. 'But it's got to be difficult for him too, Trip. Having a wisdom tooth out isn't exactly fun, even these days.'

'I know, I know. He doesn't mean to be difficult. He keeps sayin' he doesn't mean to be difficult. Apologisin'. But all that proves is that he knows he is being difficult. Then, just as I'm gettin' all riled up, he'll give me a look, yer know, like Porthos beggin' for cheese, an'...What? What's so damn funny?'

'I'm sorry, Trip,' Archer gasped, 'I'm not laughing at you.'

'So you've said.'

'No, really, Trip,' Archer said, trying to mollify the exasperated engineer. 'It was just the idea of Malcolm begging like Porthos. I'm sorry. I won't laugh again. Go on.'

'No. I really should be gettin' back now. Thanks for lettin' me blow off steam. I just didn't think nursin' Malcolm for two or three days would be so difficult.'

'You could always let Phlox deal with his medication. He did offer. And the steward could take Malcolm his meals, when you're on duty, at least, to give you a break.'

'No, that wouldn't be fair. I wouldn't be much of a boyfriend if I didn't stick with him through the bad as well as the good would I? I'll just get his ice cream, seein' as how I've paid for it.'