Spoilers: Canamar

Rating: PG

Trip and Malcolm stood next to one another waiting for the ship to dock onto the Enterprise.

“How are you doing?” Malcolm’s eyes were filled with concern.

“I’ll be honest with ya, all I want is a shower and to get some sleep.”

“Well, first you’re going to Sickbay.”

“I don’t need to go to Sickbay. I’m fine.”

“You forget who you’re talking to. I know what fine means. Fine is not fine. You’re going to Sickbay.”

“I’m the superior officer. If I don’t want to go to Sickbay, I don’t have to.” Trip sounded like a petulant child. He knew it. But he was tired and he didn’t feel like being poked and prodded by Phlox.

Malcolm narrowed his eyes. “Trip, I may not be your superior officer but I am your lover. As such, I have certain privileges. You’re going to Sickbay.” Malcolm’s face grew more intense when Trip opened his mouth to argue.

Trip looked away. He hated that look. Suddenly panic crossed Trip’s face. “No. Please, I beg you, no.”

A look of concern crossed Malcolm’s face. “What?”

“He’s coming over.”

“Who is?”

“The Babbler.” But it was too late, the persistent little alien was now standing in front of them.

“Commander. How are you doing? This is a nice ship, wouldn’t you say? Much better than the freighter.”

Trip felt like crying. After listening to the creature talk for hours non-stop, he didn’t think he could take much more. Trip glanced over at Malcolm. How the hell does he do it? Trip thought. Malcolm’s face was completely impassive, showing not a hint of annoyance at the alien’s tenacity.

“I hear there is a doctor on your ship. How is he with prosthetics? . . .” Oh, God. Not the thing about the toes again.Trip moaned.

“ . . . and I lost three toes to frostbite . . .”

Yep, he went there. Didn’t he have anything more interesting to talk about than his missing toes? Only that was the problem. He definitely had more to say . . . lots more to say. Trip thought he’d scream if the creature didn’t shut-up soon.

Oh, great. He’s already changed topics.

“ . . . it just jumps around in your mouth . . .” Trip turned green.

Definitely not going to the mess hall when I get back. Where’s a bucket when you need one?

The little alien was now looking intently at Malcolm. Trip glanced at his lover. His face was still impassive. Honestly, how did he do it? He knew Malcolm had nerves of steel, but really, surely even Malcolm couldn’t be *that* calm.

“ . . . and how you burst through the doors with both guns blazing was really incredible. But you know if you had three hands like this one guy I knew . . .”

Trip studied his lover closely. It’s incredible. Truly incredible. Maybe it’s just me. Course Mal’s only been listening for ten minutes, whereas I was listening for hours.

Trip started to zone out. Really how much could one person take?

“ . . . and there they were, running down the street naked . . .” Trip’s head snapped up. Street? Naked?

Trip shook himself. Think pleasant thoughts. What’s that word Malcolm used . . . oh yeah, snogging. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts. Snogging Malcolm in the armory . . . in the torpedo tubes . . . in engineering . . . in the mess . . . anywhere, damn it!

Trip’s attention suddenly refocused on the monologue.

“ . . . And then I joined them . . .”

Ahhhhhhh. Trip wasn’t sure if that had gone with the previous conversation but it had definitely given him a mental image he did not need. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Malcolm . . . nude . . . on the warp core. All right, too happy. *Way* too happy. Trip discretely folded his hands in front of the growing bulge.

The little alien focused his attention on the commander. “Oh, do you have to use the facilities?”

Trip’s head snapped towards him. But before he could respond . . .

“You know I went to this hotel and they just had the worst bathrooms imaginable . . .”

Why couldn’t the guy just be quiet for ten minutes? Trip glanced at Malcolm. Couldn’t Mal do something? I thought he was supposed to save crewmembers from torture and stuff. He wasn’t even annoyed! Then Trip looked more closely. Malcolm’s nostrils were flaring. Then Trip glanced up to his lover’s stormy eyes. Uh-oh. Trip knew that look. That was not a good look.

Suddenly Trip caught a flash of movement. Malcolm’s hand was on his phase pistol and it was pointed straight at the alien’s head.

“Shut up,” Malcolm stated in precise tones.

The little creature’s mouth was hanging open and he was staring at the lieutenant. The alien looked as if he were about to say something but Malcolm’s lips pressed together tightly and his hand tightened on the gun. The creature’s mouth shut abruptly. He was quiet. He was too scared to say anything.

Trip looked back and forth between the two in astonishment. Finally, he turned his adoring gaze to his lover.

“I love you.”

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