Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I don't own Enterprise, I don't own my house, I don't own my car, I don't own my pants. Where…are my pants? Trip…stop playing with the damn transporter...

Warnings: Sexual Content yeah, it's explicit so be warned. It's a threesome and pure Smut for Trip Malcolm and Jon. Enjoy, and consider yourself properly prepared for steaminess.

PART 1: Odd Man Out

Captain Jonathan Archer

I watch my best friend of almost ten years squirm in front of me. There really isn't a better way to describe it. I know him well, well enough to know that this movement proceeds a certain type of conversation.

"Who is she?" I ask, setting down my beet and flashing him a knowing smile.

"Why do you always assume it's about a girl." Trip remarked, demeanor bristling at my comment.

Before I fire back a snide remark I connect the clues. I know that fidget, this is a matter of the heart, but here after duty shift, Trip doesn't lie to me. Always brutally honest even when I still have to maintain a sense of Command. So No. It's romantic. But that could mean it is not about a woman. Ah. "I'm sorry Trip." I tell him pushing sincerity into my voice and temporarily banishing the smirk from my face. "Who is he?" Oh damn, that didn't last long, my smirk is back.

I watch the younger man's face turn red and his eyes shine in disbelief. I am shocked he doesn't realize I can read him like an open book. I guess I've just always paid more attention to him then he has to me. I shift and push down the sadness that begs at the back of my chest. I do love Trip, but it's been a long time since I put that behind me, he's my friend and he'll never see me as anything else. I push those thoughts down and away, as well as a little twitch of jealousy. He's got himself a love interest and I'm going to be a good friend. "Come on, it's not like you havn't told me about the men in your life before."

I watch him shift again, well this is new, uncomfortable…embarrassed. "Malcolm.." I venture to guess. The two have been getting closer and closer in the months since the mission in the expanse came to a conclusion. I remember a conversation not long ago, one that involved a little too much alcoholic and the topic of conversation, one delectable armory officer. My young friend wasn't the only one speaking of the compact British man with admiration. I'll admit he's been catching my eye more than I like to admit, but then again, I don't let things keep my eye for long. It isn't good to dwell on what I can't have. But I do remember the boyish smile he gave me when I first complemented the Englishman's ass.

From the flabbergasted way his mouth won't shut I know that I hit the nail on the head. I can't help but chuckled when he throws his arms up and pushes his plate away from himself in a bit of a huff. "What am I the only one who didn't see this coming?" He asks, bright blue eyes wide with indignation.

"Yes" I tell him, as dead pan as I can muster before I break out with a chuckle. He's speechless and I take a second to enjoy it. "No, sorry Trip, I couldn't resist" I take a sip from my glass and set it back down, taking the time to tame my expression a bit. "I just know he's someone you happen to…fancy in return."

"Fancy…fancy…" Trip leaned back nervously running his hands along his pants. "you did not just say fancy."

I feel my brow furrow at the man's hesitation. "What's the problem?"

He shrugs as he leaned back, a small groan working it way out of his throat. He's afraid of something, classic hesitation. "Malcolm's not the kinda guy to toy with you Trip…"

"I know…I know…." He reaches out, running his fingers around his cup and I can see his sadness, see his heart clench. "I'm not very good at this …you know?"

I do know. He's bright and beautiful and full of energy, something attractive to a lot of people but he's never been one to be tamed. Relationships never seem to last with him. I guess it was just a matter of time before it got to him. I don't speak, I just nod. I want him to keep talking, he needs to.

"Malcolm doesn't want a roll in the hay…at least I'm good at that" He snickers before taking a sip and continuing. "I'm not good at this…and I don't know if this is such a good idea. We're in the middle of space…things with me, they never end calm and quiet…it's …loud and noisy and messy and…on a starship…."

"You planning on it ending messy Trip?" I ask him, watching his hurt, burning blue eyes peeking up at me.

"Not plannin' no…"

"Don't start this scared…" I tell him, keeping his eyes locked on mine. "It might work out. It might not. You might break his heart. He might break yours. But he asked you out. He fancies you too ya know." I smirk to break the tension, and I feel it infectiously spread onto my friends face. He's so much more insecure then he likes to let on. Hopefully Malcolm will learn that. I feel my chest pinch a little. For the last few years, even after I stressed myself to the breaking point with the world on my shoulders, I still had a friend. I still had Trip. I don't want to think about the possibility that he won't be around as much. I push that down and away. I am lucky he still speaks to me.

"Your gonna have to start limiting how much you look at his ass if he's my boyfriend." Trip remarks, a hidden little smirk on his mouth.

"Oh no, if you tell him about that I might have to tell him a few things myself…things I swore to keep secret" I'm sure he's thinking of something horribly embarrassing by the way his face turns red. I'm not thinking of anything in particular but he doesn't need to know that. Malcolm also doesn't need to know I like to look at his ass. Even more he doesn't need to know the two of us talk about him at all.

"You wouldn't" The southerner spoke, voice soft with a mixture of shock and anger

"Why don't you test me?" I challenged.

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed

It's not like there are a lot of options for dates on a starship, but I also won't deny this is the first thing on our minds either. His hands are under my soft cotton shirt, his lips hot on mine, tongue winding into my mouth and taking my breath away. I know this is gonna be hard and fast and wonderful, and part of me wishes we could slow down, savor the moment. But it's been a long time since anyone has touched me like this, even longer since someone has kissed me with such, enthusiasm. His tongue is in my mouth and one hand in my hair claiming me roughly.

He's taller than me, and I can feel his body, scent and heat wrapping around me, dominating me and making my head spin. I want him. Dreamed of him. Fantasized about him. Now here I am, at the hands of the beautiful blonde man and he's worshiping my body like it was made of the finest chocolate imaginable. "Bloody hell…" I hear myself whisper as his lips work their way down my neck. His tongue is hot and wiggling and incredibly good. His fingers, talented, long and slender trace my body with strong intention. I feel him, all hot flesh against me, covering me, all of me all at once. It's beautiful and hot and incredible. I arch against him, my skin feels like overheated summer against his and when his graceful fingers wrap around my aching cock I can't help but whimper.

He draws the sound from me with a chuckle, warm, playful and affectionate, something I have come to recognize as Trip Tucker. His blonde hair tickles the bottom of my chin but I can't pay attention to any one thing as his fingers milk me and his body rubs against me and his lips tug on my nipples. "Oh Shit" I hear myself whisper as I realize it's going too fast. I push at his shoulders, fingers digging into the yielding flesh there for just a moment.

He backs off quickly, and the cool air of the room rushes over my skin like a bucket of ice water. I watch him lean back, concern flickering through his bright blue eyes, mouth open with curiosity. His hands have moved to either side of my head, bracing himself, quickly taking a less dominant position. I can see the doubt roar through him like a tidal wave. Did he move too fast? Did he do something wrong? Did he hurt me?

I can't help but let him hang there a beat longer than necessary before my lips crash on his and I quickly out maneuver him. He may be taller and he may be as well build as me, but he's still not as skilled when it comes to taking physical control. He also doesn't seem to mind in the slightest. I watch his eyes widen slightly when I drive him into the mattress. I'm not gentle. I'm not really rough either, but I am being quite clear that I want him. His breath pushes out of his lungs but his smile turns into a smirk and I know he is up for my game. He drives his lips into mine again and this time I am the one that is surprised.

His arms and legs tangle in mine, his hard length coming to meet mine and digs into my heat until I want to shudder in pure bliss. The primal urge to rut against him is beyond me to resist and as I push my ass down to meet his heat with mine I feel the blonde's hands on my backside. Not just that. His legs. Tangled in mine. His hands, on my wrists.

Oh Shit. I recognize the move only in the middle of the air as the engineer has us spiraling off the soft bunk and I feel him grunt as he hits the floor first, taking all his weight and mine in the impact and immediately rolling on top of me. His hands tightly holding mine, his weight pressed into me, the thick muscle of his thighs tense and his shoulder muscles dancing under taught skin. He has me.

A rush pushes through me. A rush of excitement and a sick little thrill in the base of my stomach that translates to a throb in my trapped weeping dick. Trip's smirk only gets bigger. He can see it. He knows I love it. Being trapped completely underneath him, my superior officer, my friend, on the fucking floor of my quarters. God it is hot. My breath comes in short bursts as he looks at me, watching for a moment, seeking approval. From his heat, his breath and his hardness I know he likes it too. "Lube…Top Drawer" I tell him, giving him permission, because now I have no interest in fighting back. Now I want him to take that adrenaline, that power, that heat and I want him to fuck me silly.

He makes his choice as he flips me over knocking me into the floor and pulling up my ass into the air. I hear the drawer rustle and he pulls out the tube quickly lubing his fingers. He moves to my ass and I glance up. I can see him in the mirror on my bathroom door. The floor length glass reflecting the man kneeling behind me. Blond hair sticking everywhere, muscles tense and breath coming in pants. His lips are swollen and kiss bruised and his skin is glowing with sweat. His hands are gentle despite his weight on the back of my thighs still insisting I stay still and pushing for warm contact of skin on skin.

He's gorgeous behind me, and I can't help but whimper as his wet cool finger sinks into my tight, hot ass. Those long and graceful fingers suddenly have such a better use than fiddling with engine parts. I gasp and arch up, keeping him in view in the mirror as he works me open. I need him though. I need him a lot, and I am not gonna last another second of those sweet little fingers in my ass. I push back groaning at the sensation and I feel him add another slick finger. "Oh god just fuck me already" I grind out. Needing him now.

He adds another finger and the burning of the stretch brings be back from the edge just a bit. He doesn't take much longer, opening me up with the softest little whisper in my ear. "Malcolm…your so tight.." If I am not mistaken there is both care, wonder and a shiver of anticipation in that thickening southern accent.

I know I am, and I want him inside me anyway. I feel him push against my opening and then he shifts. His hand slips to the juncture of my shoulder and my neck, pushing my head down and my ass higher. He changes the angle so he can slide in better, but he doesn't let go. He holds me there, and I feel a thrill as his fingers tighten and his hand holds me steady for his long cock. He gently but insistently pushes at my entrance and I drive my ass back to meet him. It feels good. The stretch, the slickness of the lube and even that little burn that brings be back into my own head and reminds me of how very very full I am.

I loose track of the room around me, I look up in the mirror and the next thing I know he's inside me. All the way inside me. He's so hard. He so long. He's so hot. I love it. All of it. He thrusts, eyes meeting mine in the mirror and I register my own face betrays just how much I love it. He fucks me hard then. He isn't brutal or bruising or negligent to the delicate inside of my body. But he is forceful and powerful, arousing, and demanding. I love it as he takes me, I watch his eyes, hot blue pools that alternate looking at my pleasure contorted face in the glasses reflection and letting his eyes roam over my naked body bent before him.

He focuses on his cock, plunging into me open ass, my willing body meeting his and I can see him start to loose it. Then I feel it in the thrusts, erratic and sharp. I let my knees widen and drop just a tad. I feel him hesitate at the movement but he doesn't stop and I am thankful as he brushes the perfect spot inside me. Two strokes and I'm coming. Bursting into a million little pieces around the heavenly heat inside me and feeling like a million stars shooting through time. He's everything and nothing and perfect and everywhere in a split second lack of awareness.

I recover my senses on my back, Trip's flush face meeting mine with a soft look of worry. His body still over mine, still hot and flushed red as he tries to catch his breath. "You okay?" he asks, southern drawl thick from our activity and the concern for me, I only find it more alluring.

"Never better" I tell him with a smirk, not yet worrying about the mess we've made. I kiss him slowly, soothingly as he gathers me in his arms with a tenderness I find strangely like him. Next time we won't be so needy, next time we won't be so deprived, we can take our time and explore and feel and get to know one another. This time, neither of us lasted long, and who could blame us?

Trip Tucker

I know it's dinner time, but I don't really mind skipping a meal to be with Malcolm. It's only been a few weeks since our first official date, but I feel almost addicted to him. I let my fingertips ghost over the smaller man's hair that lightly brushes my shoulder. I love the part. The part where my brain is still buzzing happily and my arms are filled with warm wonderful sated Malcolm. I feel my heart calming down and I think I can actually feel my body sinking into the bed a little more. God he feels good. I'm not really sure how long we are like this, how long we lay together in silence, but eventually Malcolm's sweetly accent voice breaks the quite in a lazy unhurried way, voice still deep with sated lust.

"So what did you tell the Captain to get out of your weekly dinner?" He asks stretching himself over me and I feel my stomach sink. Evidently Mr. Reed can read my face already, either that or I am not as able to keep my thoughts from playing out for public view as I thought I could. He sits up immediately, looking down at me with something between shock and disapproval. "You stood him up? You stood up the Captain?"

I roll my eyes pulling back a little from him and watch those soft pale blue grey eyes view me with displeasure. "Mal" I try to explain, "It's not a Captain and Engineer thing, it's a Jon and Trip thing." I shift a little and brush his face with my fingertips. "I'd rather be here right now…"

He sits up, eyes looking a little torn. "Please Trip, don't take this the wrong way when I say this, you are really daft aren't you?"

"Excuse me?" I ask, sitting up. I know he said it to get my attention but he really has it now.

"You just didn't show up. That's not just a slap in the face to the Captain- which Jon is, always, off duty or not, but he's supposed to be your friend." He snaps at me, face open and honest and really…he is right.

"I didn't…I just forgot" I told him and I know the excuse is lame, but it's the truth. I just got over excited and focused on one thing I didn't think about anything else. Somewhere between kissing Malcolm and falling into bed with him, I just stopped thinking about my responsibilities as anything other than this man's lover.

Sighing, I can see the Armory officer warring with the man and I wonder what it is he wants to tell me. "I know you two are close" He says it like I expect him not to know we're friends. "and I know you get caught up in things. But it seems like he's a bit…distant lately. A little less bright in the past week or so. When was the last time you two talked?"

I feel myself shift uncomfortably. Malcolm was incredibly perceptive and he did generally spend more time on the bridge then me, so I think back on his mood. "Last time we talked…I talked…and it was a while ago." I tell him, my thoughts pulling me down into the past few weeks. Jon looked alone. He looked very alone. I just didn't notice because I wasn't alone. I had Malcolm. Ah man. I'm such a shit. I didn't even go him and tell him something came up. I didn't tell him I had a last minute date with Malcolm. I just left him hanging in the Captain's mess to have dinner by himself, or maybe, god forbid, with T'Pol. "I am such a shitty friend"

I hear Malcolm chuckle softly and I pull him close. He's so observant, so very good at his job and I find myself smiling. "If it's alright with you, I'll go see him tomorrow, I bet I can suffer through a little water polo and pry out what's been botherin' him. I should have noticed sooner…but I guess I was a bit…" I let my eyes wander down his naked tone body in my bed to illustrate my point, "…preoccupied."

I love the sound of his soft groan as he leans forward and captures my lips in his. I love the feel of his body as he climbs close and settles in next to me. "Although I am flattered that you hold our relationship as such a high priority, I feel inclined to remind you that our duty aboard enterprise takes precedence, and that I never intended to damage your relationship with the Captain."

I notice that although his tone is teasing, his meaning is completely serious. I let my hand softly stroke his back and hair and I feel myself smile. "Don't be so concerned Mal, I'll go see Jon tomorra' night and after a few beers he won't even remember I forgot dinner."

I don't know why I am suddenly nervous as I stand here waiting for Jon to answer the chime to his door. It isn't like I haven't done this before. No, this is about my guilt. I feel bad for getting so obsessed and focused on Malcolm that I forgot about everything else. It wasn't fair really. I am a little surprised when the door slides open and I look at my best friend really for the first time in weeks. He look strung out and worn down all at the same time. His eyes settle on me with a distinct lack of interest, his initial surprise easily covered over with the Captain's mask. "Commander…it's late, is there anything I can help you with?"

He's trying to keep this between shipmates, as all are interactions have been as of late. I'm here not to let that happen. "Got all this cold beer and I just don't think I can drink it all myself."

His eyes flicker down and back up. He hasn't decided and I see I still have a chance to get him to open up but he's not gonna just let me in. "I've had a bad day Trip, I don't think I'll be much good company at the moment."

"That's what the beer is for Cap'n." I tell him, pulling out my best convincing boyish smile and ask him to let me in without words. I know I've got him when his shoulders slump down a bit. He doesn't want to be alone, not really, but I'm not really sure why he's pushing me away to begin with.

He finally steps aside in silent invitation and I take my usual seat next to his desk. I watch him as he moves, one of my hands unconsciously moving down to pet the whining puppy at my side. He looks older right now, and I find myself wondering what is wrong. What could have been so crappy about his day that makes him in such a fowl mood. I decide to start with my contribution to the mix. "I wanted to say I'm sorry"

He looks up at me, his brow slightly knit. He wasn't thinkin' about last night, but he puts it together. "It's stupid. I just forgot." I open a beer and move it out toward him.

He nods and grabs the bottle quickly, I see that he's accepted my apology, but he says the words anyway. "No big deal" I feel it though, that it was a big deal. To him. I feel like shit all of a sudden. Jon doesn't deserve to be cast off like that. He's my friend. My best friend. My heart pulls looking at him.

We don't talk about anything specific. We talk around the room and just drink. We've done this before. I know it means he just isn't ready to talk to me about what it is that is really bothering him. When I feel like this Jon lets me alone. I need to be let alone, need time to myself, but Jon, I know needs company. He needs me right here cracking jokes and talking about nonsense in order to keep him occupied. It doesn't take long until he's relaxed and some of the color is back in his face, by then we're both a little drunk and we're laughing about something, but I don't remember what it is.

I realize absently that he wasn't the only one that missed this. I got caught up in a new relationship. I threw all my chips in like I always do, but Jon is always been there for me and always will be. This is something constant and perfect because he knows me so well. I can't hide anything and neither can he. When I look at him now I see something that I don't like. It's sadness, overwhelming sadness that seeps from him and radiates out toward me. I want to hold him, wrap my arms around him and just hold him, that's a strange urge. Maybe I've had a little too much to drink.

"Jon?" I glance over, because he's stopped talking. I can't help but smile. He's asleep. Sound and cutely asleep with his mouth slightly open and a soft snore coming from his thin lips. I can't help but smile. I should leave him be. I move to sit up and I suddenly realize I really did have too much to drink. I'll just, rest my eyes.

The pounding headache that wakes me up tells me that I must have fallen asleep. So does the fact that I'm curled up in Malcolm's arms. Wait. Now…I've woken up in Mal's arms more than a couple times now and it doesn't quite feel like this. Don't get me wrong it's nice, but it isn't what it should be. Instead of smaller compact arms holding me gently around the waist and chest, head tucked into my neck or on my shoulder, I'm being…clutched. The hold is relatively tight and heavy, long strong arms holding me close and whoever this is slightly higher, a nose nuzzled in my hair, the soft breath against my temples actually feels nice against my pounding head. I also know that something is off because I suddenly realize I am still in my clothes. I'm also not in my bed. The constant feeling of falling off isn't there. With two people in a little bunk, the sense of impending imbalance has become a normal feeling but it's absence is curious.

There is only one way I'm gonna figure this out. I open my eyes. The lights are still on, so it's easy for me to glance up and see the face of my best friend. He's peaceful and soft in his sleep, the age washed into the boyish charm I know he possesses when excited, especially about space travel. I consider moving away, but the strength in which he's holding me would make that hard without waking him. Instead I close my eyes and slide back to where I was. It's probably close to morning anyway, what's the harm in holding him. I let my hands slip around his waist and hold him close.

I remember what it's like to feel out of sorts and having no clue what could put you right. I held onto my share of people just wanting to get better, hell I went after T'Pol and that had been such a mistake, so right now I understand him, and I hold him back. It isn't long after I close my eyes and let myself fall into a calm lul that I feel Jon stir.

I'm not really sure why I don't move. I'm not sure why I don't let him know I'm awake, but I guess some part of me somewhere wonders what he will do. I feel his breath against my skin as he breathes more measured, an awake man instead of a sleeping one. There is this moment when I feel him just looking at me. I feel like my nose is itching and my ears are burning and my palms are sweating. Why do I feel that way, he's just looking at me? Slowly and gently he detangles himself from me and I let my limp arms fall to the bed. I wait till he's out of the bed and I hear shuffling before I begin to stir. I stretch out on top of the smooth sheets and I can hear my back popping from the odd position I fell asleep in.

"Good morning" I hear Jon's sleepy voice a little embarrassed if I read it right. Yeah, he feels guilty about holding me in his sleep, he's just that good of a guy. I feel myself chuckle as I sit up and grip my head when the room throbs.

"Good by who's definition sir." I hear myself say in a sleepy gruff tone.

He lets out a soft laugh and I open my eyes just in time to see him pull off his shirt. "I've gotta take a shower, I've gotta be on duty soon." I know I shouldn't be entranced, but my eyes fix on his chest. I've seen him naked before, seen him almost naked, seen him shirtless plenty of times. This seemed different. I feel my face flush with heat just a little and I realize that I'm staring at those toned muscles. I stand quickly and my shaky legs find it difficult to meet my demands. "Hey" He says, reaching out to grab my arm and help me stabilize "You alright?"

"Yeah" I tell him, a little dizzy still and it doesn't help that the well sculpted chest I had just been eyeing is now right in front of me, close enough to touch. To kiss. Whoa. I really need to leave. This. I really need to leave. I need to go see Malcolm, or maybe just be alone, it doesn't matter, what bubbles up in my chest is something I can't look at right now. "Just a little hung over, I better go get ready for my own shift." I tell him in a rush and turn quickly. I'm out of the room before he can protest and before he can come after me. I feel guilty. I feel like I cheated on Malcolm. Why do I feel like I just slept with my best friend when I barely touched him. I didn't even kiss him.

Captain Jonathan Archer

I didn't really want to be stuck on an away mission with on Trip and Malcolm, but this was rather unavoidable. Despite scanning the craft for both life and technology and finding nothing, here we are, walking through the halls of an alien ship and of course the people I would need with me are my Armory officer and Engineer. One insistent on coming to protect me, and the other intensely needed to analysis the alien technology. It's my luck they are two people I intensely lust over and who are both off limits.

That doesn't matter right now. I push down the feelings that bubble in my stomach and embrace professionalism fully. I push away the idea of embracing Trip, his warmth in my arms and breath on my neck. I'll remember waking up that morning for a long time. I push that thought away because right now I need to focus on this. On this mission, on business and on what's in front of us.

I don't know why I look off the side but I'm glad I do as a flash of movement rushes past the corridor. I look down at the tricorder in my hand and feel my brow pull in confusion. There are no readings. Even of alien technology which makes no sense because I can see it right in front of me. That means that this reader is useless. Even more than that, it means that what I saw could very well be living and very well be hostile.

Malcolm is the first to notice I'm no longer walking. "Captain?" He asks in his cutely concerned British accent and I feel Trip turn to look at me. I'm staring down the corridor into the dark and somehow it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I know that feeling, trouble. I upholster my phase pistol and I can feel my Armory Officer's calm movements as he follows my lead and does the same, coming up to my side protectively. I stare down the corridor. Focused and breathing slow. I feel like I might be over reacting after several moments of nothing, but I listen to my gut and I hold still very still. My gun is still at my side but Reed's is trained on the darkness.

Finally my paranoia comes to light. I hear it. The breathing. It's an animal like growl, large and intense. It sounds like a bear. An angry bear. It is no surprise that Malcolm shoots first, but what does surprise me is that there is no effect. I dial my pistol up from Stun to Kill and bring my gun level with it. Another direct hit. But it doesn't affect it in the slightest. "Run" I order, without a second though and start moving. Reed however doesn't seem to realize I'm serious as he takes another few useless shots. "That's an order Lieutenant!"

Trip's eyes are wide as he looks at the thing in shock. That's why I didn't want to look. I grab his arm and pull, knocking him from his stupor. "I said RUN Trip."

Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker III

We're trapped. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears and I run. I stop at a door punching in commands into the door and breathe as it opens, letting us through. I shut it behind us and hit the locking command, as my fingers hit the button I find myself jumping at the sound of a bang. I look up and can't stop my jaw from dropping as I see the dent in the metal give way to claws tearing through the thick material like a hot knife through butter. I know my eyes are wide as saucers as I pull myself back and run. I watch Jon pull back into an alcove and I slip back into the same space breathing hard.

I watch Jon flip open his communicator. It's not working. "Whatever blocked our scans of this place is blocking our ability to communicate with Enterprise." I see a panel and move to it. Their technology is advanced, more advanced then ours, I move my fingers quickly and I only pay half a mind to the men behind me. I can see Enterprise on their sensors. If they can see us, maybe we can get a word out to Hoshi, or maybe we can get to their shuttlebay. I pull up schematics and I think I there is a lab close enough. Think isn't good enough because Jon grabs my arm as there is a tearing sound and the metal has buckled.

"This way" I tell him, taking off to the left, toward the room I know from the map. Sensors and logs and there should be a communication array. We go through another bulkhead and Malcolm stops to lock the door. It won't stop it but it will slow it down and I thank whatever god is watching for Malcolm's presence of mind. I push down a rush of fear because I don't want Malcolm to get left behind. I keep running, and there it is, the communications station. Blown into ity bity little bits. Then I see it. A matter conversion pad. A Transporter. Enterprises hull plating will not be polarized, we could transport aboard. I move through the controls quickly. I can set them to the bridge with only a few strokes and I do it immediately. Then it hits me. The matter stream inducers are dead man switches. "Cap'in…" I breathe, my voice a little broken as he stepped closer to me. I look up at him, making my words short. "Communications are out but that is a transporter, I just need some time to change the settings."

I peek up as Malcolm enters the room, his hands flying to shut the door and immediately seal the locking mechanism. I saw the shadow of it. The thing chasing us, I saw it and I know there isn't time. I look up at Jon and he knows. Knows that someone has to stay behind and I see it click in his head. I see him make the choice and I whisper. "No. Johnny, No." He cuts me off by kissing me.

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed

I get the door to lock, rather I fuse the controls until they are locked and call it good enough. I turn around just in time to see Jon pull Trip into a kiss. I'm simply shocked at first. I don't expect to see the Captain kissing anyone, and it throws me off kilter. I am especially unprepared for him to be kissing my boyfriend, and even more…for me to think it of it as sexy. The slightly taller older man has complete control over the rambunctious soul that Trip always has bursting from him. I don't know whether it is because he is also shocked or if Jon simply has that effect on him. I find myself curious to know the answer. I find myself walking toward them without thinking, by the time I'm close enough and my mouth is opening to say something I don't know what I want to come out of my mouth.

"Jon. No." Trip demands, voice harsh, attempting to chase the Captain off the small raised platform. He isn't fast enough, Trip is suddenly being turned to atoms and he can't move or he'll risk not ending up quite right on the other side. His eyes are hot and angry and there is a flare of indignation. I don't understand.

Jon doesn't give me the time to figure it out, nor does he explain. I watch him wince at the sound of scraping metal. The door is giving way. Jon's hazel green eyes find mine, and it is almost like he just realized I was there, and yet always knew exactly where I was. It appears I'm in for the same treatment as Mr. Tucker and I am shocked anew when his lips contact mine. I expect him to be overwhelmingly passionate, enough to conquer what Trip's mouth offers, but his kiss is sweet, tender and it seems to make me melt into him. I don't know why I'm kissing my Captain. His hands are around me. When he lifts me up, manhandling my smaller body I know precisely what is going on. I'm thick. Completely and utterly THICK to have not caught on sooner.

One of us has to stay behind. One of us has to hold a control completely through the teleportation process. He's made it him. He kissed Trip so he couldn't tip me off and he's kissing me…for..I don't know why. No…He kissed us both for the same reason. To say goodbye. To say what he could never work up the courage to say. There is no consequence to worry about for the man who is about to die. This is my job. This is my job, to stay behind and protect him, to protect the crew. I feel anger rise up and cloud anything else I might be feeling in the moment.

I have to admit. Jonathan Archer is good with people. He's already at the controls before I figure out I'm on the platform and therefore need to get off. Before I know what he's doing it's too late. He's …so sad. A look that rips my chest apart on his handsome face. "Take care of him." He tells me and my heart tightens again. I ignore it and push it down, because for the intelligent man he is, he doesn't see the door ripping apart behind him. He must hear it. It doesn't matter. He won't leave that control. Not until I'm gone. Not until I'm safe of Enterprise and by the time that happens, god damn it, that thing will be in that room.

"CAPTAIN" I scream to warn him, or I scream at him, or for him, I don't know. As the broken ship falls from my vision I see the monstrosity of claws and teeth ripping through the door as if metal were rice paper. I must be too late, because when I hear my own voice bouncing back at me I'm on the bridge, T'Pol and Trip's eyes locked on me, the engineer managing only a thin veil over his panic. I'm breathing hard, the transport wasn't quite the same as ours. Taking my breath away and making me queasy, or is that because I saw Jon about to be torn apart?

Trip isn't by any means, under control. His body is tense and wrung and he is scared shitless. It's obvious, but he's still doing his job, relaying to T'Pol what happened as fast as he can, walking quickly to the turbo lift. "I can boost the transporter signal and get a lock on him but we need more power." I hear the force in his tone. The knowledge this is a long shot, and it probably won't work. But Trip Tucker won't just sit and do nothing.

I find my voice, calmer then I expect it to be. "You'll need a medical team Commander." I can see with those words I've stomped on the southerners heart and I try not to show him how scared I am. I wait till the turbo lift doors close before I speak again. Trip doesn't need to hear this. "Permission to assemble a strike team to retrieve the Captain, and assign a security detail to the transporter room." I know that it will be too late, that if we have to go down there the Captain will be dead and all I will get to do is kill the beast that did it to him. Part of me thinks that Jon is already dead, and now I just want to shoot the bloody bastard regardless.

The calm woman's brown eyes sparkle with calculations but they aren't about what I'm asking, she's rushing to the turbo lift. "Permission granted Lieutenant." She turned and starts giving orders, but I'm not listening with my whole attention. She calls back the other team, orders a strike team, orders sensor sweeps and something else. She is calm, rational and in control. I'm nothing like that in this moment and I envy her ability to keep her cool.

Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker III

Jon. Oh god damn it Jon. I'm stupid. Oblivious and stupid stupid stupid. Of course he kissed me to distract me. To shut me up and push me to safety. Oh god. Jon. I let that kiss melt my knees and throw my resolve out the window. No. Stop thinking about Jon. Wires. Power. Numbers. Engines speak to me and I understand them. I don't know if we'll have enough power but I have to try. I have to get Jon out of there. He kissed me. He kissed me because he's about to die. I can't let him die.

I push it away. I'll deal with it later. The guilt and the anger and the pain. Jonathan Archer has saved my life plenty of times, I need to do this for him. The caves are thick, and the ship shielding is thick and it's almost impossible for me to find Jon. But what I can find is the precise place my energy beam and Malcolm's came from. Jon's in that room. It's been less than a minute since he sent me up here. He isn't going to die in a minute and a half. I push back that scream that Malcolm let loose when he appeared. Something was happening down there. I had to ignore it. Jon needs me to focus. Life signs. Heat. There is one source. Just one. No time to confirm or deny what it is, who it is. T'Pol next to me, Malcolm with her and two security officers with loaded rifles.

"I have something, but it's only one thing. It ..It could be Jon, It could be the hostile alien. There is no way to tell." I look at the Vulcan's deep brown eyes and beg her to let me bring it on board. I know that this is Jon. I need this to be Jon.

"Energize Commander." The woman commands, her voice firm and I don't question her logic. I flip the switch and I swear my heart stops beating. I move the controls, eyes focused on the matter stream. Stability is important.

"It's two life forms." I hear myself say it and I know what it is. The thing. And Jon.

The matter becomes real and I feel my stomach sink in my body. It's something of a cross between a giant ape and a bear. Sharp teeth, wide huge muscles and a bare black crackled face. It's head pulls up at the site of us and liquid sprays as it roars. There is blood everywhere. Jon's blood. I feel myself pale at the site of him. Body in a twisted crumpled heap that the thing looks about ready to tear apart. The monster's teeth soaked with my best friends blood had come from the fleshy side of facing us which look now to be open, torn and bleeding uncontrollably. The worst part is Jon's eyes are open. His eyes are open and they flick around as if he's awake. I'm not sure if I am thankful that he is alive. His shoulder looks dislocated, his body twisted oddly. I feel T'Pol pull me back and I hear the shots before I see them.

Malcolm shoots first, and he's a great shot. His lower powered phaser pistol connects with the beasts arms, startlingly near the prone Captain, but in reflex, the man is immediately released. The other two men, rifles at the ready didn't seem to wait for an order to kill the alien. They opened fire and took down the threat without hesitation. I find a horrible, visceral pleasure in seeing it fall. Jon's blood isn't the only liquid soaking the room now.

I can't stop myself from rushing to the fallen man's side. His body is…by lack of a better term open. Just open. He has one long ragged wound as if he has been ripped apart and I don't know how to stop him from bleeding. I want to cover the wound or hold him, but I'm afraid to touch him. His blood is warm as it soaks through the uniform on my knees as I kneel in the pool of his blood. It's still flowing, which at least means his heart is still beating. But he's not breathing. He's not breathing and those hazel green eyes are far too flat to still be alive. "Johnny" I hear myself whisper, but I know he can't hear me.

Phlox is suddenly there, pushing me aside and I go with a dazed stumble. The doctor is focused. He's all movement and sterile determination, face schooled into a blankness that scares me to the core. The Denobulan won't give up. He doesn't look at that mangled body and throw in the towel. No. He sees the man and he sees things he can fix. He will fix it. I push that hope back into my body as I watch them load the Captain onto a gurney and I watch the small alien do something I have never seen before. He climbs up and straddles the wounded captain. He isn't going to wait to get to sick bay. He'll work on him right here, and all the way down the hall. Small hands and buzzing diagnostic tools are a blurr as they rush away.

Jon. Oh god Jon.

More to Come, Please Read and Review, your feedback will only remind me to post faster. The other chapter will come quickly, I'm just proof reading them now.

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