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Once Bitten

Author - Kelly Meding | Genre - Humor | Main Story | O | Rating - G
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Once Bitten

By Kelly Meding

whitejazz98@yahoo.com


Rating: G, humor
Warnings: None
Summary: One of Phlox's "pets" escapes from SickBay.
Standard disclaimers apply.

"Do you know how many languages I've studied in the past two weeks?" Hoshi asked as she trailed Dr. Phlox across Sickbay. Before Phlox could venture a guess, Hoshi answered her own question. "Two. Two new languages in two weeks."

"But they are languages you did not know before," Phlox said cheerfully. He walked over to the alcove where he kept his menagerie.

Hoshi crossed her arms over her chest, watching Phlox drop a green, crumbly substance into a cage. Squeaking sounds followed the feeding. Hoshi shuddered.

"I know," she said. "But one of them was so easy. It was like first year Spanish."

Phlox moved on to a smaller tank filled with creatures from what resembled the snail family. "I am certain there were humans that found Spanish difficult to master even at its most basic level."

"Is that your way of telling me to quit complaining?" Hoshi asked.

Phlox smiled, but said nothing. He continued feeding the creatures he kept.
Hoshi bent and peered through the holes in a steel box. Three orange eyes glowed back at her. Two blinked. Hoshi grinned.

"Doctor, what's in this one?" she asked.

When Phlox didn't answer, Hoshi looked up. The doctor stood an arm's length away, staring intently at something on one of the shelves.

"Oh dear," he said, his voice queerly worried.

"What?" Hoshi stood up straight and moved to stand at Phlox's elbow.

Two cages sat side by side. One was a small wooden crate that held a lizard the size of an Earth rat. Its scales shimmered as it breathed, purple eyes darting around. Next to it was a steel cage with rows of air holes along the sides. A fist-sized hole had melted through the wall of this cage.

"I should have known better than that," Phlox said.

"What?" Hoshi repeated. "Did something get out?"

"A Pygmy Rememan," Phlox said, still staring at the hole in the cage.

Archer and T'Pol stood behind him, listening attentively while Phlox explained what had escaped. Hoshi had stationed herself in the center of Sickbay, keeping watch in all directions for the renegade.

"And what is that?" Archer asked.

"A hairless marsupial," Phlox explained. "About the size of your North American chipmunk. I have found that the enzymes produced in their saliva to be an excellent muscle relaxer for humans, but only when used topically. If bitten...well, Rememan bites can be quite painful."

Archer stared at him, mystified. "It bites?"

"Yes, Captain," Phlox said as if shocked he had asked. "Rememans are very unsociable creatures and will bite when approached or if it feels threatened."

"How did it escape?" T'Pol asked, examining the cage.

Phlox looked at her shame-faced. "I am afraid I must blame myself," he said, pointing to the lizard in the wooden cage. "I'd forgotten that the spitting venom of the Hollis Lizard corrodes some metal hybrids. I put them too close together."

"So I've got a naked, biting chipmunk running around my ship?" Archer
asked. "Any other dangerous creatures in that menagerie of yours?"

Phlox appeared genuinely hurt, his speckled eyes dropping. "My apologies, Captain-"

Archer held up a hand. "It's okay," he said. "T'Pol, have Reed do an internal sensor sweep and see if we can't find this thing."

"Impossible, Captain," T'Pol said.

"I'm sorry?" Archer said.

T'Pol regarded him coolly. "Commander Tucker is conducting a series of sensor diagnostics. Internal sensors will be unavailable for the next four hours."

Archer groaned.

A commotion in the hallway captured their attention. Hoshi walked to the Sickbay doors and yanked one open.

"Sweet jeezum," a pained Southern voice bellowed. "This sucker hurts!"

Commander Tucker barreled into Sickbay, almost knocking Hoshi down. Trip's face was contorted in pain. He held his left hand close to his chest.

"What happened?" Hoshi asked.

Phlox, Archer and T'Pol converged on Trip. Phlox grabbed a medical tricorder and began to scan Trip's hand.

"Hell if I know," Trip said. His left hand was swollen and bright red. A small purple bruise the size of a thumbtack colored his third knuckle. "I was fixing a sensor relay and dropped my laser cutter inside a panel. Reached down to grab it and thought I electrocuted myself at first. It hurt so damned bad."

"He was bitten," Phlox announced.

"Bitten?" Trip repeated.

"It's a fairly small bite," Phlox said to Archer. "I can give him something for the swelling and discomfort."

"Bitten by what?" Trip asked.

"If it's inside the bulkheads, does that mean this thing nests?" Archer asked.

Phlox shook his head. "If you're asking if it will rip out wires to create a dwelling, the answer is no. They simply like warm, quiet places. The Commander no doubt startled it when he dropped his instrument."

"Startled what?" Trip asked, his voice rising. "Hello? Injured party?"

"Dr. Phlox lost one of his pets," Hoshi said. "Naked chipmunk."

Trip's eyes widened. "Is it poisonous?"

"Not to humans," Phlox said. He filled a hypospray with pain medication. "Just extremely painful."

"Tell me about it," Trip said through clenched teeth.

Phlox pressed the hypo to Trip's neck. A soft hissing preceded the painkiller's almost immediate effect, curbing the pain in his hand.

"Where were you when this occurred?" T'Pol asked.

"Deck four, aft section," Trip said. "You'll see the open panel."

"If the creature has not moved too far," T'Pol said. "We should be able to track it with tricorders. With your permission, Captain..."

"Perhaps the Sub-Commander is not the right person to head up this particular...operation," Phlox said.

"And why's that?" Archer asked.

Phlox glanced from T'Pol to Archer. "While the bite of a Rememan is only mildly painful to humans-"

"Mildly?" Trip snapped.

Phlox ignored the interruption. "Rememans are extremely poisonous to Vulcans."

All eyes fell on T'Pol. She regarded Phlox calmly, her expression never wavering.

"How poisonous?" Trip asked. "Like deadly poisonous?"

Phlox nodded. "I have only observed one instance of a Vulcan being bitten by a Rememan. It was fatal."

Archer took a step toward Phlox, not bothering to hide his anger. "I want a complete inventory of the creatures you have tucked away in that little alcove. I want to know what they are for, and how poisonous each one is or is not. Understood, Doctor?"

"Completely, Captain."

Archer walked over to a comm panel. "Archer to Lt. Reed."

<"Reed here, sir.">

"Report to Sick Bay, Lieutenant," Archer said. "And bring some ensigns with phase pistols."

Phlox opened his mouth to argue, but Archer's look silenced him.

<"Understood, sir.">

"Phase pistols, Cap'n?" Trip asked. The swelling in his hand had subsided a great deal.

"You have a better idea?" Archer asked.

Trip shook his head.

"And I want internal sensors back."

"I'll get Lt. Burkholder on it," Trip said. "Probably take an hour to get everything realigned. 'First we're stunnin' bugs, now chipmunks,'" he muttered as he walked toward the comm to call Engineering.

~*~*~*~

"Wouldn't we be better equipped wearing gloves," Reed asked, unable to curb his sarcasm. He cut his eyes at his security detail. This was not the assignment he'd been expecting.

"Or a net," Hoshi added.

"Just stun the damned thing," Trip said. Phlox had applied a second anti-inflammatory to Trip's hand and wrapped it in something akin to a rubber glove. Trip picked at the uncomfortable bandage, but no longer felt intense pain.
Phlox stood off to one side during the exchange. His eyes flickered from one speaker to another, but he made no move to offer an opinion.

Archer looked around, then cleared his throat. "Dr. Phlox?"

"Yes, sir?" Phlox said, eyes darting to the captain.

"Will the phase pistols kill this thing?" Archer asked.

"The Rememan has a very delicate system, Captain," Phlox said. "I believe that even a stun blast will, indeed, kill it." The layer of sorrow in Phlox's voice was not lost on Archer.

"Will any of the older weapons stun it without killing it?" Archer asked.

Phlox looked up, a glint of hope in his eyes. "I think that anything below a type 3 laser will sufficiently disrupt its neural pathways without causing permanent harm."

"Malcolm," Archer said.

"Understood, sir," Reed said. He nodded to the three security ensigns and headed out of Sickbay.

Hoshi sighed and glanced over to Trip. "How's your hand?"

"Tingles," Trip said. He looked at Phlox. "What'd you put on it, anyhow?"

"Saliva of a Cretion muskrat," Phlox said. "It's-"

Trip held up his good hand. "Sorry I asked."

As soon as Reed reached deck four, he pulled out his tricorder. T'Pol had programmed it to pick up on the Rememan's bio-signs, based on what Phlox had told her about it. Reed led the way down the corridor toward the aft section, feeling pretty silly about the whole thing. He was an Armory Officer, not Pest Control.

Then again, Enterprise didn't have a Pest Control department.

"Probably because we don't have pest problems," Reed muttered.

"Sir?" Ensign Rose asked.

"Nothing," Reed said.

He turned into the next corridor. Ten meters ahead, a panel was removed from the bulkhead. Reed walked over and knelt down in front of the opening. He carefully scanned the area inside.

"It's gone," Reed said. "I don't believe this."

"Believe what, sir?" Rose asked.

Reed shook his head as he stood up. "I blow things up for a living and here I am, searching for a hairless rodent that likes to bite."

Rose's mouth twisted down as he tried not to smile.

"Something you'd like to share, Ensign?" Reed asked.

"Well, sir," Rose said. "It is pretty funny when you think about it. I mean, four guys with laser pistols hunting down a naked chipmunk."

An odd mental image flashed through Reed's mind and he found himself smiling. "I suppose. Come on, then. We're bound to find it sooner or later."

Reed and Rose split from the other two crewmen. Until internal sensors came back online, splitting up was their best bet in capturing their quarry.

Archer had a hard time blaming Dr. Phlox for the current fugitive hunt. After all, the eccentric Denobulan was only practicing his preferred form of medicine, a form Archer had signed off on when he asked Phlox to come aboard. And accidents like this were bound to happen. Kind of like interstellar malpractice.
After ordering Trip back to his quarters, he and T'Pol headed for the bridge. As they walked silently down the corridor toward the turbolift, Archer could see a difference in T'Pol's demeanor. It was not immediately apparent unless you were looking for it. Her back was straighter, her shoulders tenser.
Apprehension was the only thing Archer could justify. He'd been around Vulcans most of his life. While Archer had seen one or two lose their temper, he had never seen one even mildly afraid. Of course, he'd be a bit on edge if there were a water moccasin slithering around the ship.

They reached the turbolift. Archer pressed the call button.

"You know," he said while they waited. "Your shift is over in twenty minutes. If you'd like to go back to your quarters-"

"That will not be necessary, Captain," T'Pol said. Her voice had an icy edge to it. "I will complete my required rotation."

Archer sighed. He knew T'Pol would never admit to her fear, nor would she accept his offer to go off duty early. So that left him with one option.

"Consider it an order, then," Archer said.

T'Pol looked at him, one eyebrow slightly raised.

"No one on this crew is going to think any less of you if you go," Archer said.
She watched his face for any sign of insincerity, the passive expression on her own never wavering. She blinked once.

"Thank you, Captain," T'Pol said.

The turbolift doors slid open. Archer got on. T'Pol did not.

Trip wandered down the corridor, intent on his quarters. His hand was still wrapped and numb, effectively keeping him from any kind of meaningful work. Archer had ordered him off-duty early and that was fine by him. He had faith that Lt. Burkholder could easily restore sensors and help in the chipmunk search.

The whole business made Trip feel extremely tired, especially when he realized that the entire sensor grid diagnostic would have to start from scratch tomorrow.

"Aw, hell," he muttered.

<"Engineering to Commander Tucker.">

Trip jogged up to a comm panel. "Tucker here. What's goin' on, Lieutenant?"
<"Internal sensors are back online,"> Burkholder reported. <"I have a tentative position on the...uh, animal.">

"Good," Trip said. "Let Lt. Reed know-"

<"Sir, sensors show it's in Sub-Commander T'Pol's quarters. I also have a Vulcan biosign in close proximity to it.">

Trip frowned and hit a button on the comm panel. "Tucker to T'Pol."

He waited. No response.

"Tucker to Reed. Meet me in T'Pol's quarters."

Trip didn't wait for Reed's response. He bolted down the corridor, making a sharp left toward the aft section of the deck. Trip skidded to a stop in front of T'Pol's quarters. He pressed the call button next to her door.

<"Enter.">

She sounded calm. But she was a Vulcan.

The door slid open and Trip walked inside. T'Pol stood in the center of the room, her back to him. Her attention was fixed on a pile of pillows a meter away, stacked next to a couch.

"T'Pol?"

"I am sorry I did not answer your comm," T'Pol said. "I did not want to startle it."

Trip stepped slowly toward her, trying to follow her line of sight. A shadow moved between two of the pillows and he noticed T'Pol tense. She was coiled like a spring, her hands clenched to her sides.

"Malcolm's on his way," Trip said. "Come on and back up slowly."

T'Pol did not move. Trip stepped close enough to see her profile. He was shocked to see tiny hints of fear tugging at the corners of her eyes. Her mouth was set in a straight line and her jaw clenched and unclenched with minute movements.

Trip gently placed his hand on her elbow. "I won't let it bite you," he said softly. "I promise."

She shifted her eyes toward his. An amazing moment of vulnerability passed between them.

T'Pol was afraid. Or as afraid as she would allow herself to be.

Trip reluctantly broke eye contact and looked back at the pillows. The shadow was gone.

"Damn," he said.

T'Pol's eyebrows fluttered. "What?"

"Let's go," Trip said. "We'll seal off your quarters until Malcolm gets here."

"It will be gone again," she said, her voice amazingly level.

"Would you rather hang around?" he asked. "It looks like these things move pretty damned fast, so-"

It moved faster than he expected. The Rememan seemed to consider both of them a threat. It scurried toward them so fast, the fist-sized animal had climbed halfway up T'Pol's pant leg before its movements processed enough for Trip to react. T'Pol emitted a tiny sound, not quite a squeal. Trip's right hand reached out and swatted the Rememan off of her hip.

Not one to be discouraged, the animal sunk its sharp teeth into Trip's hand for the second time in an hour. Trip shouted and whipped his hand away from him. The momentum dislodged the Rememan and it flew across the room, thudding softly against the window and falling to the floor.

"Sonafabitch!" Trip shouted, pulling his newly injured hand it his chest. Hot spikes of pain were running from his knuckles to his wrist.

"There it is," T'Pol said.

Trip again followed her gaze and spotted the Rememan scuttling across the floor by the far wall. It was heading toward the door.

"Come on." Trip grabbed T'Pol's arm with his gloved left hand and backpedaled to the entrance of her quarters. Even through the numbness, he was amazed at how tense her muscles were, the only telltale sign of her anxiety.
The Rememan was brazen, if nothing else. As they backed away, the small creature kept moving forward. It bolted from hiding place to hiding place as it approached. Trip and T'Pol backpedaled out of her quarters and into the corridor.

T'Pol reached out, hitting the button to close the door to her quarters. As it slid shut, the Rememan made a mad dash to escape. T'Pol stepped backward, her elbow slamming into Trip's injured hand. He yelped and stumbled back against the bulkhead.

The animal barely made it through before the door slid shut. It managed to crawl another inch before a green laser beam effectively knocked it onto its side. The Rememan lay there unconscious, its small body barely moving as it breathed.

"Got it!" Reed said. He trotted over from the opposite end of the corridor, Ensign Rose on his heels.

"Excellent shot, Lieutenant," T'Pol said. Any previous hint of fear was gone from her eyes and her voice.

"Are you okay, Commander?" Reed asked.

Trip stepped toward the rodent, his mouth twisted in pain. He raised one boot off the ground.

"Please, let me squash it," Trip said.

T'Pol placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'll take you to Sick Bay."

Trip stared at her, then nodded gratefully, every movement sending crackles of pain through his hand. Never removing her hand from his shoulder, T'Pol led Trip down the corridor toward the turbolift.

Reed watched them walk away. He looked down at the Rememan, then up at Ensign Rose. "What am I supposed to do with this thing?"

Rose shrugged. "Carry it?"

Reed snorted. "Be my guest, Ensign."

Trip lounged on the couch in his quarters, staring absently at the stars zipping by outside. His hands rested on his chest, both encased in the glove-shaped bandage. He felt like some sort of cartoon, like that 20th century mouse who wore big white gloves. Mickey, or something.

The second bite had hurt worse that the first, but Phlox had applied some good topical medication. Now his hands only tingled and felt a bit numb. Not great progress, but certainly more comfortable.

The Rememan had been returned to its cage, no worse for its little adventure. Archer had ordered a new room fashioned out of the alcove, so Phlox could keep his little menagerie better managed and away from people.
His door chimed.

"Come in," Trip shouted.

The door slid open and T'Pol stepped in, a covered plate in her hand. Trip sat up, but didn't stand.

"T'Pol," he said. Trip motioned toward a chair with one puffed hand. "Have a seat."

T'Pol looked at the offered chair for several moments before sitting down. Her movements were more fluid, her features softer-a far cry from earlier that evening.

"I wanted to thank you, Mr. Tucker," T'Pol said.

"You're never going to call me Trip, are you?" he asked.

T'Pol quirked an eyebrow. "I can, if that is what you wish."

"Sure, when we're off duty call me whatever you want," Trip said. His eyes flickered to the plate in her lap. "What's that?"

T'Pol removed the lid. Trip's eyes widened in surprise and delight. She'd brought a perfect triangle of pecan pie.

"You once told me that pecan pie comforts the soul," T'Pol said, placing the plate on the small table between them. "I thought it would be appropriate."
"It's very appropriate," Trip said, smiling.

He reached for the pie, then stopped. With the bulky gloves, his thumb and forefinger didn't even touch. How was he supposed to hold a fork? He would just have to wait until the swelling went down.

T'Pol sensed his predicament. She stood up and moved to sit by Trip. He watched her carefully pick up a fork and spear off the tip of the pie wedge.
"Helping hand?" he quipped.

She nodded and raised the fork. There was no hint of emotion on her exotic face, but there was a softness around her eyes that made Trip trust the sincerity of her actions.

The first bite - like the first step - was always the sweetest.

~END~

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A handful of people have made comments

This was cute & funny, I love it. Even the mighty T'Pol has to be scared of something. And we can't forget "Super" Trip to the rescue.

So sweet! Poor Trip, he's like a surgeon (with warp engines for patients!) he needs his hands!!!!!!

I loved the whole first bite idea. You had me giggling in happiness. *sigh*

So cute!!! I loved it!!

So cute!!! I loved it!!