The Morning After- Pt 5

The Morning After

By DestinyGirl

Rating: R
Email: anticipatedestiny@yahoo.com
Genre: Romance, Humor
Codes: T/T, A/H, M/Amanda
Summary: Something the crew picked up along their travels has an unanticipated effect, leading to Trip/T’Pol goodness.
Spoilers: Zero Hour with a twist and anything before that.
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Enterprise is owned by Paramount, not me. No infringement intended, no profit made.
Distribution: Anywhere, just let me know.
Feedback: Of course I want feedback! Leave your comments below.

A/N: You know, I thought it would be relatively easy to find out what planets and systems ENT might have encountered in its exploration, but it wasn’t. After a generally fruitless search on the internet, I decided to make the names up. :D Hope you don’t mind.

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Part 5

Malcolm cleared his throat and repositioned his backside away from a particularly uncomfortable spot on the metal floor. Adjusting his leg, he brushed the hot thigh of the woman next to him and jerked back quickly. He was too warm right now to touch anyone. Not to mention too exhausted to flee and too guilt-ridden to speak.

Staring at the ceiling for a few more minutes, Malcolm felt his mind squirming in the thick silence, trying to get away from the shame that plagued him. They hadn’t said anything afterward this time, just rolled away from each other and lay panting until their bodies returned to normal. He’d lost count of how many times they’d done this in the scant few days since that first infamous night, and every time since then, it just got worse.

And damn, did it get better, too.

Even now, Malcolm stifled a groan as his body responded to the memory of the act they’d just so satisfyingly completed. Damn it, but Amanda Cole was one hell of a woman. Her body was enticingly beautiful, and that, combined with her apparent lack of inhibitions when she was with him, made for an extremely addicting combination. He couldn’t get enough of her body: her curves, her lips, her hair, her tongue—he groaned out loud this time and bit his lip in frustration. God, he had to stop, but he didn’t know how.

His body had been getting him into some serious trouble lately. It seemed as though he couldn’t see Amanda anywhere without their encounter ending sans clothing. There’d been that first time in her quarters when he’d come to interview her, then in his when she’d stopped by to give him some tactical readiness reports. Another time they’d been struck by their passions they’d practically sprinted out of the mess hall, finding the turbolift and stopping it mid-floor. There had been other places, other positions, other moments of ecstasy since Lucky Tuesday, definitely every day and sometimes more than once.

This time, they were sprawled out near the weapons locker in the armory. It was gamma shift, thankfully, and they weren’t likely to be discovered. But the fact that they might be only added to the frenzy of their lovemaking, the thrill of being caught spicing up an already sizzling liaison.

Lovemaking. Malcolm snorted softly, the sound breaking the stillness. That was such a misnomer for what they were engaged in. This was sex at its basest, or maybe a much cruder term might be more appropriate. Malcolm felt no emotional attachment to this woman, only lust: pure, simple, and sinfully pleasurable.

It shouldn’t be a problem, two consenting adults engaged in a form of entertainment that was both extremely satisfying and physically rigorous. Malcolm had never been in better shape in his life, but he didn’t think he could put his security team on this training regimen. He shouldn’t even be involved in it.

God, what must she think of him?

Amanda rarely spoke when they were together, but he knew from the look in her eyes that she was just as frustrated, confused, and turned on as he was. He could see the determination in her eyes when they met now, the determination he shared not to give in this time. The willpower to be strong this time. The resolve to carry on a normal conversation or go about their regular duties and not succumb to the insane desire to rip each other’s clothes off. But no matter how hard they fought it, the next thing they knew, they were naked and writhing on the floor. Or in a bed. Or up against the bulkhead in the armory.

They had to talk about it. There was nowhere for this relationship to go. Hell, it wasn’t even a relationship.

Chancing a glance over at her, Malcolm caught Amanda’s eyes. She’d been looking at him, studying his profile, and she seemed startled when his gaze locked with hers. He smiled briefly, letting it fade when he saw the intensity in her stare.

“What is this, Malcolm?” she asked softly. “What the hell are we doing?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. But I can’t seem to stop.”

After a silence, she looked away, her turn to stare at the ceiling. “Me neither.”

The solution waited on his tongue for awhile as he worked up the courage to speak it. Finally, he took a deep breath, and plunged. “Maybe we should just agree to stay away from each other for awhile.”

A long sigh escaped her. “Okay. But Malcolm—”

“Yes?”

“You’re an amazing lover, you know that?”

Her compliment made something warm and comforting unfurl in his chest. His eyes whipped to hers, and then he smiled. “You’re quite the vixen yourself, love.”

* * * * * * * *

Medical scans may be fascinating to a doctor, but at times, they become like any other mundane task in any other job: tedious. Just when Phlox thought his eyes might cross from looking at another scan, the computer beeped and informed him that it had finished the query he’d run over forty-five minutes ago.

Sighing, he pulled up the information the computer had located, a frown stretching his expressive facial muscles.

A few mutterings escaped him as he punched buttons on the screen and flipped through the lengthy results of the query. Answer after answer, and still nothing he could work with. Apparently, he had asked all the wrong questions.

Phlox shook his head and sighed, prepared to close the file and quit for the day. He’d exhausted every idea he’d had so far, and virtually no progress had been made. His finger hovered over the button, but he took one last, hard look at the data before him. His eyes widened when he saw it.

There, buried in the middle of averages of body temperatures and oxytocin levels, was a very strange reading. Hypophysis, Average size: 2.76 cm.

He shook his head again in disbelief. As he well knew, the hypophysis, or more commonly called the pituitary gland, was a small part of the endocrine system that in a normal human was only, on average, one centimeter in diameter. He could discount the contamination of his results by Vulcan or Denobulan data; he’d separated his and T’Pol’s scans out of these queries.

It was true that the pituitary gland had a great deal to do with responses in human reproduction. This part of the brain released important hormones to other parts of the body that made sexual response possible. But that gland was not activated without a prompt from the hypothalamus, another part of the brain that stimulated the release of hormones to the entire endocrine system.

Not only that, but the hypothalamus and the pituitary gland almost never acted of their own accord in humans, not without some conscious effort on the part of the patient, or at the very least, by visual or physical stimuli. And even if they had begun releasing hormones without stimulation, it certainly wouldn’t happen naturally to the entire crew at once.

Grabbing a PADD from his worktable, Phlox consulted his records of crew interviews. As he suspected, none reported seeing anything particularly erotic the night of the anomaly, and additionally, none had reported being physically molested by outside forces and aroused against his or her will. Quite the opposite, actually. All of his interviews had determined a sudden burst of lust completely out of the blue, only after which nearly every visual stimuli had increased the response.

All interviews aside, the pituitary gland didn’t just grow and shrink as the patient’s sexual appetites ebbed and flowed. It remained a constant size for all of that patient’s adult life. Its activity increased and decreased, but the size never changed.

So why would this part of the brain suddenly become over 1.75 cm larger?

Quickly, Phlox shut the query results and opened a scan of one of the crew members. Crewman Rostov’s file popped up before him, and he magnified the pituitary gland until it filled his screen. It was quite a bit larger than any he’d seen before, but until now, he’d not made a close study of human pituitary glands his priority. He frowned again as he noticed a miniscule dark spot in the anterior lobe of the gland, oblong-shaped, almost like the size of a seed on top of an otherwise unremarkable loaf of bread.

Phlox magnified as far as he could and still maintain resolution, but the spot was still quite unremarkable, save for its existence. He maneuvered the 3-D image, looking at the gland from every possible angle, but he couldn’t find a better view. From every angle, it looked the same. He closed that scan and opened one of another crewmember, finding a similar irregularity. Another opened. Another, and another, and still, he saw the same thing in every single one: an enlarged pituitary gland with an irregular spot.

The spot itself was suspicious. It didn’t look like any tumor or growth he’d ever seen. It was clean, crisp around the edges, a nearly oblong shape that looked almost artificial. Or, he thought absently, like the shape of a small chicken’s egg.

Leaning back on his heels, Phlox crossed his arms and stared at the screen with incredulity. Without performing some type of resection of the pituitary gland, he doubted that there was a way he could see just what the hell this thing was. His scans couldn’t penetrate it. The only problem with surgery was the he couldn’t get to this part of the brain without destroying much of the brain stem, even with his advanced methods. The only way to do it safely would be during an autopsy, when the patient could care less about the damage to his brain.

Phlox harrumphed, a sound that startled his Andorian mice into scurrying further into the recesses of their cage. This finding, while undoubtedly significant, opened an entirely new can of worms.

Was this a result of the crew’s unusual behavior or the cause of it?

Even analyzing the two-month-old scans of the crew would tell him nothing. If it caused the behavior, it wouldn’t have been there two months ago. And if it was a result, it wouldn’t have been there until after the behavior. Because he had no scans of the crew between the acquisition of the infection and its subsequent results, he had no way of discovering an answer.

Sighing, he finally closed the information on the screen and turned the lights down to 25% of normal. Exiting sickbay, he headed for the mess hall. Maybe some food would give him inspiration.

* * * * * * * *

“You know, pie is highly overrated.”

Malcolm stared in shock across the table at his friend. Trip was saying pie was overrated? There was definitely something wrong in the universe. And from the look on Trip’s face, Malcolm knew that something had a name: T’Pol.

Taking another bite of his lasagna, Malcolm chewed thoughtfully before commenting. “Is your sweet tooth finally rotting?”

Trip glared at him. “Funny.” He stirred the remains of a slice of rhubarb pie on his plate and finally stuck his fork in it, straight up. “No, I’m just not hungry. And it doesn’t taste like Mom’s, anyway.”

This time Malcolm laughed. “You expected Chef to cook like your mother?”

“No, not exactly, but it would be nice if it was close.”

The conversation died, and they fell into a guy’s kind of comfortable silence. The kind of silence where nothing is said, yet everything that needs to be conveyed is right out there on the table.

After a few minutes, Malcolm’s fork paused mid-air as he felt the burning of someone staring at his back. Closing his mouth and lowering his fork, he chanced a glance over his shoulder as Trip watched curiously. Malcolm’s eyes had barely focused before he whipped his head back around and hunched over his plate, shoveling the last of his pasta into his mouth.

Trip chuckled. “What’s that all about?”

Malcolm glared at him. “Nothing.”

Looking over Malcolm’s shoulder, Trip scanned through the supper-rush crowd. No one was looking in their direction, but as he kept his eyes peeled, he suddenly saw a surreptitious glance, right at the back of Malcolm’s head.

Trip’s eyes grew huge. “AMANDA was the MACO you slept with?” he asked.

“Shhhh!” Malcolm’s cheeks turned beet red and he shot a furious glance at Trip. “We can’t talk about this HERE!”

A grin was his answer. “Why not? You seemed perfectly content to discuss my ‘relationship’ with Amanda, not to mention T’Pol, right at this very table a couple of months ago.”

“That was different!”

Trip raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “How?”

“It just was, all right? Now drop it!” Malcolm shoved his plate to the center of the table and stood up. He stalked away, not even bothering to bus his table.

Bolting out of his chair, Trip quickly took care of both their dishes and hurried to follow Malcolm out the door. He caught him in the turbolift, sliding a hand in the doors just before they swished closed.

“Mal, c’mon. I was just kidding. It’s not like I can’t understand what you’re goin’ through, buddy.”

Malcolm turned eyes on him that were more intense with emotion than Trip had ever seen from him. “No, Trip, I don’t think you can understand. This is—this is different.”

The turbo lift arrived at their destination and Trip followed Malcolm off.

“You want to talk about it?”

Malcolm kept walking, a stiffness to his gait that Trip didn’t miss.

“Not really, no.”

“Are ya sure?”

Stopping at the door to his quarters, Malcolm turned to face Trip, his expression closed as he clasped his hands rigidly behind his back. “Yes, quite sure, thank you.”

He pressed the buttons to open his door and stepped inside his quarters, fully expecting Trip to leave as the door shut behind him.

Once again, Trip’s arm shot out and stopped the door from closing. Walking inside, Trip stood near the doorway, his eyes taking in the disheveled cabin. The last time he’d seen it, it had been neat as a pin. That, more than anything, gave him a whole world of information.

After Malcolm ignored him for a few minutes, Trip realized he wasn’t going to get anywhere doing it like this. Suddenly, it hit him that he needed to talk just as much as Malcolm obviously did.

“Fine,” he said, walking over to Malcolm, “if you don’t want to talk about your problems, would ya mind listening to mine?”

Malcolm sighed and sat down on his bunk, shoving the blankets to the foot of it and pulling off his boots tiredly.

“Why would you want to talk to me about it? I thought T’Pol was your best chum now.”

Trip snorted. “This is about, T’Pol, Mal. I can’t talk to Jon about it because he’s too stressed out about this entire mess. And for damn sure I can’t figure it out on my own.”

Finally, Malcolm raised his eyes to meet Trip’s and saw genuine weariness in his friends features. “Take a seat,” he said tiredly. “I’m afraid I can’t offer you any liquid comfort to make it easier to spill your guts.”

Groaning, Trip shook his head. “Jack Daniels would be heaven in a glass right about now, you’re right.”

“So what is it?” Malcolm asked. “T’Pol got a stick up her arse about the baby?”

Trip laughed at Malcolm’s choice of words. “No, not really. She wants the baby, and so do I. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but we do. That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

Trip sighed. “I’m in love with her.”

“Oh, God.” His response was a perfect blend of horrified and sympathetic.

This time, Trip’s laugh was self-deprecating. “I know. I’m in love with a Vulcan. A species that doesn’t recognize love because it’s an emotion.”

Malcolm was silent for a moment, mulling it over. “But T’Pol seems, I don’t know, more…emotional than most Vulcans.”

Looking at Malcolm sharply, Trip wondered how to respond to that one. He’d been wondering much the same thing. She hadn’t been the same as she was at the beginning of their mission, but at first, he’d just chalked it up to the adjustment she’d had to make living with humans. But during their Xindi mission, Trip had wondered if it hadn’t been something else entirely that was making her usually suppressed emotions pop up more often.

He hadn’t had any luck getting her to confide in him yet, but he did have a few ideas.

“Vulcans aren’t without emotion, Malcolm, they just have really strong ones that have to be kept in check. I think living among humans has softened her somewhat. But that doesn’t mean she’ll ever let herself love me back. Whenever she gets scared of her feelings, she runs right back behind her Vulcan ideals and hides there.”

“So what did she say when you told her?”

“Well, I haven’t, exactly.”

Malcolm stared at him in disbelief. “You haven’t told her?”

Trip shot up from his chair, pacing agitatedly. “Well, I tried to get her to admit there was something between us, but I couldn’t bring myself to say the actual words. I mean, would you? If you knew that you were gonna get the ‘let’s just be friends’ speech, would you put your heart on the line?”

A grunt of acknowledgement escaped Malcolm. “Probably not.” He waited a few minutes before adding, “But she does care about you.”

“Yeah,” Trip said wryly. “We’re friends. Friends who have a kid together and act like nothing has changed.”

Malcolm watched in sympathy as Trip sank back down into the chair.

“Ya know,” Trip continued, “a week ago, I actually had hopes that we were finally getting somewhere. That we were getting closer and that someday, she might actually admit there was something pretty special between us. Then this damn sexcapades thing had to happen and louse it all up. Now she’s freaked out because she let go that night and felt what I did; I could see it in her eyes. She couldn’t handle it. It was too much at once.”

“At least she feels something for you, even if its friendship,” Malcolm said, and Trip didn’t miss the wistfulness in Malcolm’s voice.

“You like Amanda?” Trip asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Malcolm sighed, “and that’s the problem. I just like her. That’s it. There are no stronger feelings whatsoever.”

Trip looked at him strangely. “Shouldn’t that be a good thing under the circumstances?”

It was Malcolm’s turn to get up and pace. “Normally, I would say yes. But Trip, she’s—” He stopped and stared at his friend, wondering if he should tell him everything.

Stopping in front of the window, Malcolm stared out at the stars unseeingly. “God, Trip, it was bloody fantastic. I don’t think I’ve ever had a shag that good. We have this chemistry that’s like a volcano erupting, but there’s absolutely nothing there. No emotional connection at all.”

Trip found that hard to believe. He’d always had at least some emotional interest in the women he’d taken to his bed. “None? Not even a little?”

Malcolm shrugged. “I admire her. And if you get right down to brass tacks, she’s everything I look for in a woman. Funny. Intelligent. A great fighter. Beautiful.” He turned to look at Trip. “But that’s it. Otherwise, near apathy. If this hadn’t happened, she probably wouldn’t have shown up on my sensors unless I managed to check out her bum during tactical drills.”

A grin and a shrug answered that comment. “Well, chalk it up to a great memory and get on with your life. It was just one night.”

Malcolm frowned. “It wasn’t just the one night.”

Trip gaped at him. “It wasn’t?”

“Ah, no.” Malcolm looked duly embarrassed. “We’ve been . . . seeing each other ever since then. A lot.”

“Oh.”

Malcolm sighed again. “Yeah. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do. I just can’t stay away, Trip. And neither can she. It’s like we’re drawn in by something beyond ourselves, but it isn’t like that first night. I mean, we’re not still being controlled.”

“Well, you’re both consenting adults. . .” Trip trailed off, knowing how trite that sounded. They may be consenting, but behavior like this wasn’t exactly healthy. Sex between people in a relationship was one thing. Sex for sex’s sake didn’t usually lead down a path of roses.

“What if I never find this again?” Malcolm whispered, his greatest fear bubbling up and escaping him. “I’ve been with my share of women, but I’ve never found someone I was so perfectly matched with in bed. What if I never find someone, and I let her go?”

“Sex won’t last forever, no matter how great it is right now, Mal.” Trip said it gently, but the truth still seemed bald.

Malcolm shook his head. “I know. But maybe I’ll fall in love with her someday.” The statement was hopeful. His tone wasn’t.

“Yeah,” Trip said quietly, knowing Malcolm had to go this road alone. “Maybe you will.”

* * * * * * *

“Come in.”

Archer said the words absently as he studied a few away mission logs from the last month. Looking at them was unnecessary, he knew, since T’Pol and Malcolm had already been pouring over them with a fine toothed comb. Still, he found himself drawn to the logs, if only to satisfy his own need to be doing something. Anything.

Anything but thinking about Hoshi.

His guest walked in the room quietly, her motions economical and fluid as usual. T’Pol stood in front of his desk and watched him, her face giving nothing away. She took in the haggard look on his face, the stubbly cheeks, the tired, blood-shot eyes, and a bloom of worry blossomed in her chest before she could suppress it. This time, though, she didn’t push the emotion away. She let it do what it was meant to do: force her to recognize that her friend needed help.

Even so, business always came first.

“I have the results you’ve asked for, Captain.” T’Pol brought a PADD out from behind her back and set it on his desk, facing him.

Archer turned away from the computer screen and looked at the PADD, blinking for a moment as if he couldn’t see it quite clearly.

“You and Malcolm are finished?”

She nodded succinctly. “We have reviewed every away mission since we were re-deployed. There were not many that fit our criteria, as most planets or ships we encountered were familiar. There were two, however.”

Archer pushed a few buttons on the PADD and nodded as he located the findings. “Yes, I remember them now. The moon in the Echaran system and Yendi IV.”

“Yes. Both had M-class atmospheres, and both are relatively unexplored. If you recall, we had detected a high concentration of dilithium on the Echaran moon and thought we could mine it.”

“We didn’t stay there long once we found out we couldn’t extract it.”

“Yes, but Phlox suggested that it could take no more than a few seconds to become affected. The moon is still a possible source of the infection.”

Archer nodded. “And Yendi IV? We were gathering some type of rare plant for Phlox, right?”

Again, she indicated affirmation with a nod of her head. “He wished to gather some specimens to make an antibody that would help the crew against bacterial infection.”

A dry laugh escaped Archer at that ironic statement. “We’ll investigate both. Distance from our current location?”

T’Pol hesitated. “At Warp 3, ten hours to the Echaran moon, two days to the Yendi system.”

“Set a course for the moon immediately. Let me know when we’re in orbit.” He paused, glancing up at her briefly. “I’m going to get some sleep.”

She acknowledged his orders with a simple, “Aye, Captain.” But when she didn’t leave, Archer looked up at her questioningly.

T’Pol pursed her lips before speaking as if she doubted the wisdom of her interference. “Permission to speak freely, Captain?”

At his nod, she continued. “If I have learned one thing while living among humans, Captain, it is that talking about a problem is most helpful.”

He wouldn’t look at her, his back stiffening at her implied offer. “Thanks, T’Pol, but I’m fine.”

Her voice softened. “Internalizing negative emotions can have a detrimental effect on humans, especially without the proper meditation techniques to deal with them in solitude.”

“Are you offering to teach me how to meditate?” he asked wryly.

“No,” she said seriously. “But I am offering to be your ‘shoulder to cry on.’”

He laughed genuinely at that one. “You’re becoming quite adept with human expressions, T’Pol.”

“I find that they often convey a much clearer meaning than language without idiomatic expression.” She was silent for a moment, waiting. When he didn’t answer, she prompted him.

“Are you concerned for your career, Captain?”

His gaze jerked up to hers. “No,” he found he could answer honestly, but it surprised him. “I’m not all that worried about it. Forrest won’t let me get court-martialed over something like this, and frankly, I’ve never believed in crying over spilled milk.”

“Then your relationship with Ensign Sato concerns you.”

He shook his head at her in disbelief. “You just aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

“I am your friend, Jonathan, and you cannot go on like this any longer. You will suffer physical difficulties soon if you do not talk about it.”

Standing abruptly, Archer walked over to the portal and looked out at the passing stars as if they could save him from himself. “Okay, fine. I am worried about Hoshi. I’m worried that she despises me now. I’m worried that she won’t ever be able to look at me in the same way again. I’m worried that I won’t be able to participate in my child’s life like I want to because I’ll always be too wary around its mother.”

“Have you spoken to Hoshi about this?”

The thought seemed to surprise him. “No, I—”

“It is illogical to worry over that which you are not fully aware. Your fear is unfounded, as you are concerned over matters that may be nonexistent. Hoshi may be just as concerned about your opinion of her.”

“But it wasn’t her fault!”

“Neither was it yours.”

Silence descended as Archer suddenly found himself staring at the other side of the looking glass. He knew Hoshi had decided almost immediately against terminating the pregnancy, but beyond that, he didn’t have a clue what she was feeling. Unexpectedly, he felt overwhelmed by guilt at his selfishness.

“I have observed Ensign Sato in your presence over the last few days, Captain, and it appears that she is waiting for you to make the first gesture. You would be wise not to let that opportunity pass you by.”

Archer turned to look at her again, scrutinizing her unreadable features for some clue as to the source of her wisdom. Finally, he saw a twitch in her jaw, one that told him more than anything she could’ve said.

He wasn’t the only one internalizing negative feelings here.

“I don’t think I’m the only one letting opportunities go by, T’Pol.”

For just a brief second, he was amazed to watch her eyes flash in irritation.

“I do not need a ‘shoulder to cry on,’ Captain.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I think you need someone to talk to, T’Pol. Usually, you talk to Trip. But he’s too close this time, isn’t he?”

She remained stubbornly silent.

“Did he tell you how he feels about you?” he asked quietly.

“He did not have to,” she confessed. “I know he cares deeply for me. But I cannot return that affection in the way he wants.”

“Now who is afraid, T’Pol?”

Startled, her gaze sprang to his. Trip’s words from the night before came back to haunt her: ‘We need each other, T’Pol, and that isn’t something we can ignore. It would be a shame to throw it all away because you’re scared.’

Was fear really the issue here, or was she truly being practical? Logical? Suddenly, the thought overwhelmed her, and she reacted in the only way she knew how: to run away, if only verbally.

“You should talk to Ensign Sato, Captain.”

After a close look at her, he nodded, realizing that he’d pushed as far as he could right now. “I’ll think about it.”

“Then I will carry out your plans as ordered, Captain.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

She left, the door closing softly behind her, and Archer sank down into his chair again. At least he wasn’t the only one with Jupiter-sized problems on his hands.

Just then, his comm. panel caught his eye. He stared at it for a few minutes, finally pushing the button for the bridge on a whim. “Archer to Hoshi.”

There was a pause. “Hoshi here, Captain.”

He swallowed convulsively, almost unable to speak. Finally, he garbled, “Would you come in here please?”

The hesitancy in her voice was obvious, but she answered affirmatively.

Moments later, she was standing in front of him in the very spot T’Pol had just vacated. The irony was not lost on him; once, he’d desired T’Pol much more than he should’ve. Now, this woman held his reluctant interest even more tightly than the Vulcan ever had.

“You wanted to see me, Captain?” Her voice was entirely professional, but the look in her eyes was guarded. Wary. And the tiniest sliver ashamed.

His eyes softened as they held hers. “Nothing big, Hoshi. I just wanted to invite you to dinner tonight, if you don’t have other plans.”

She stared at him, wide-eyed at his invitation. Before she could stop herself, she found the words escaping her. “I-I’m not busy.”

“Good,” he said concisely, standing to his feet and towering over her, even across the desk. “Then I’ll see you in the Captain’s Mess at 1800 hours.”

She swallowed audibly. “Aye, Captain. 1800 hours.” After a pause, she added, “Am I dismissed?”

He could only nod an answer. Before he could stop himself, Archer found his eyes trained on her backside as she walked swiftly out the door. Sinking into his chair, he groaned softly.

Apparently this wasn’t entirely the anomaly’s fault. If it was, he wouldn’t still be so damn attracted to her.

Part 6

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A whole mess of folks have made comments

Oh, this gets more and more intriguing! I can´t wait for the next part!

I think this is my very favorite story...please hurry with the next part!

This is so well researched and well written. I really like the Archer-Hoshi pairing -- much better than the Malcolm-Hoshi and Travis-Hoshi pairings I've seen. Please update soon!

I agree with you pennyq, I've always thought there was something unspoken between them, ever since Broken Bow.

Great chapter. I was emotionally spent after reading it. You've shown us 3 relationships with different circumstances to them. We have the established relationship b/w Trip & T'Pol. We have the burgeoning relationship b/w Archer/Hoshi. And we have the full-out, sex fest b/w Amanda/Malcolm. I'm just blown away by this chapter. Very good.

What they said. Very, very good!!

Great chapter! I love the conversation between Trip and Malcolm. It seems like they could have been discussing the one night stand in Harbinger as much as the sexcapade! "Now she’s freaked out because she let go that night and felt what I did; I could see it in her eyes. She couldn’t handle it. It was too much at once.”

Most intriguing. I'm pratically on the edge of my seat wondering just how is all this going to end.

Funny how no one seems to see what's right in front of your face. I have a few ideas on how this will end but I guess I'll just have to see if I'm right. Looks good so far though. I can't wait for the next part!

I thought Malcolm's confession to Trip was very telling. Both him and Amanda being inextricably drawn to each other and great sex but without the emotional connection involving the heart. As if they are being manipulated. I think that hits the nail on the head. And while I tend to think Malcolm and Hoshi make a good couple I am finding that Archer and Hoshi really work well too. Ali D :~)

Another excellent chapter! The various relationships (the friendships as well as the pairings) are becoming quite complex -- I can't imagine how you're going to resolve the whole story.

Still enthralled with this fic...the different aspects of everyone's relationships is fascinating. Can't help but suspect that the crew is being "experimented" upon by an outside force. Can't wait for more!

This is THE BEST fan fic yet! Each chapter just gets better and better! The way you have each person speak is so true to their character. I can envision those words coming out of their mouths.

VERY well done! Please hurry with the next chapter!

YES! What tripwatcher said! Ditto!

I've been busy the last few days and I've just read the last three chapters. I'm blown away and absolutely captivated by all couples. The characters are so well developed and the fic is hilarious.

Trip and T'Pol are fantastic as always. I love that you're willing to work through their fears and difficulties. As for Malcom and Amanda, I've got to agree with Alison. I'm pretty sure they're still being manipulated or affected by whatever is going on. They make an interesting couple though.

I can't wait for the next chapter. Thanks for such an awesome fic.

YAY! I get to drown myself in fanfic now that I'm back, and this chapter was really good. I liked the focus on Mal. Poor guy. Can't he feel a little more for Amanda? Sex won't last...

OH! Also, I think that they'll still be affected by whatever this is until Amanda gets pregnant. Muahahah... I hope it turns out to be some alien species messing with them. That woul dbe fun.