Title: Hurricane Feezal
Contact: [email protected]
Series: ENT
Rating: R
Code: R/S
Part: 1/3 NEW
Date: February 08, 2003
Summary: In Stigma, Mrs. Phlox was very interested in Trip
Tucker. What if Trip wasn't the only male on Enterprise she was
attracted to? AN: The exercise bicycle scene in the episode, has
been rewritten in this story.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns all the characters, etc., I am just
using the characters for a little fun and relaxation.
Note of Appreciation. Special thanks to my beta readers: P.J.
Sutherland, Ronda Sexton, Val, Jessica, and Nancy (special thank
you to Jess and Nancy for their encouragement).
Posting: Please notify me before you do.
Hurricane Feezal
02/08/03
Malcolm calculated the trajectory, total mass, speed of impact,
and deftly speared his cherry tomato with his fork. Pausing
before he brought it to his mouth, he turned to Trip. "Then
during Mrs. Phlox's tour of the Armoury, she suddenly stopped
beside me and sniffed. Not a casual sniff mind you, but like she
was trying to memorize my scent. Bloody hell, I was glad I'd put
on my deodorant this morning. Any idea what that was all about,
Trip?"
Malcolm noted that Trip had suddenly stopped chewing his pot
roast and was giving him a funny look.
"Trip? Are you choking? Do you need some water?" The Brit
pushed his water glass nearer to the engineer.
Trip grabbed the tumbler and emptied it in one gulp. He wiped
his mouth with the back of his hand, and before he replied. "She
did what?"
Chewing on the tomato while he sawed away at his pork chop, the
armory officer nodded then swallowed. "She sniffed me. I didn't
know what to make of it."
"Oh, God! Not you too?" Trip groaned.
"Beg your pardon?"
"You weren't there when Feezal...er...Mrs. Phlox arrived on board
were you, Malcolm?"
"Nope, I was busy on the bridge. Why?"
"Then you didn't see her and the doctor when they first met. I
tell you if one of them had turned around and then sniffed, it
would have reminded me of that old dog my grandfather used to
own. Sniffed all the female dogs in the neighborhood, just
before he..."
"I think I get the picture, Trip."
"I'm not sure you do. It was very strange. Both comical and
erotic. Very bizarre combination. I didn't know whether to
laugh or to take a cold shower."
Malcolm placed his fork and knife back on his plate and rested
his chin against his cupped hands. "So let me get this straight,
you're saying she was trying to come on to me?" Fortunately the
dining room was all but vacant, so no one heard their
conversation.
"Yep. Ya should'a seen her in Sickbay. She didn't actually
sniff me, but she got *real* close -- and sometimes even when the
Doc was in the room!"
With a grin and a shake of his head, Malcolm picked up his fork
and continued with his meal. "Well, Denobulans do have more
than one spouse. So they probably aren't as self-conscious with
their displays of affection." He laughed lightly. "She is
rather cute, in a Denobulan sort of way."
The table suddenly vibrated as a tray of food slammed onto the
surface. The motion caused the bowl of soup on the tray to
slosh, dribbling its tomato base down the side of the bowl.
"You call that just a 'display of affection'?" Hoshi asked the
Brit. "Looked to me like she was trying to inhale you!"
"Ah, Hoshi. Um...I didn't realize you were in the Armory at the
time," Malcolm remarked, clearly self-conscious. Like the
gentleman he was, he rose from the table waiting for Hoshi to
take her seat.
Turning away from the Brit, Hoshi focused all her attention on
the Southerner, as she lowered herself onto the chair. "How
quick they forget, Commander," Hoshi remarked sweetly as if
indulging an errant child.
Trip smiled, but didn't appear to comprehend Hoshi's insinuation.
"Ensign?" Malcolm prompted now seated again. The engineer wasn't
the only one who didn't understand her reference.
Hoshi turned back toward the lieutenant. "What day is it?" she
asked slowly, her head tilted to her right slightly, and she gave
Reed a small smile.
"Um...Tuesday."
The Communications Officer unwrapped the napkin from around her
eating utensils, and selected a soup spoon. She stirred her
steaming bowl of tomato vegetable soup slowly and deliberately,
not taking her eyes off the liquid.
"Is there anything specific that happens every Tuesday?" Her
eyes lifted and focused again on the lieutenant.
"Well I always clean the torpedo tubes, and then I run the
diagnostics on the...oh. Oh no. Bloody hell, I completely
forgot!"
"We've only been doing *it* every Tuesday and Thursday at noon
for the last nine months. I thought you enjoyed our time
together!"
"Ah, listen, you two," Trip interjected. "This is way too much
infor..."
Hoshi ignored the engineer. "I know you wish we had more time
together, so lately I've been trying to come earlier."
A blushing Trip moved to rise from the table. With one hand,
while still looking at Malcolm, Hoshi gripped the embarrassed
man's forearm and pulled Trip back down into his seat.
Apparently she either demanded a witness or an audience.
Malcolm buried his head in his hands and groaned. "I'm so sorry,
Hoshi, I forgot all about it. You see the Captain asked...and
then I....and she..."
"I thought you enjoyed our noon-times together?" Hoshi continued.
"You told me you looked forward to it? You weren't just leading
me on were you?"
Trip tried to rise again, but Hoshi's grip remained firm.
Malcolm lowered his hands and looked at the irate ensign. "Look
can we reschedule target practice for some other time? How about
after tonight's evening meal? And we can make it two hours, not
just one."
"Target practice?" Trip asked the pair. "This is about target
practice?"
Malcolm turned toward his friend. "What did you think it was
about?" he asked innocently.
"You don't want to know." Trip shook his head, and removed
Hoshi's hand from his sleeve. "Look, you two, I have to get back
down to Sickbay. Feezal's...er...Mrs. Phlox is expecting me."
"You better hope that's not all she's expecting, Trip," Malcolm
joked.
With a smile and a shake of the head, Trip left the pair behind.
"Just 'target practice,' Malcolm?" Hoshi cooed.
"Well, it sounds much better than 'doing the dirty deed' doesn't
it?" the Brit remarked.
The linguist chuckled.
* * * * * * *
The rest of the afternoon passed rather smoothly for the ship's
armory officer. He recalibrated the tactical sensors and
performed some overdue crew evaluations, all the while looking
forward to an evening meal with Hoshi followed by a double dose
of 'target practicing.'
Carrying his ever-present DataPADD with him, Malcolm queued up in
the mess hall. Tucking the PADD under one arm, he picked up his
tray. He stepped away from the food bar, and seeing Hoshi seated
off to the side, he walked over and sat down across the table
from her.
"I've arranged for us to do target practicing in the secondary
cargo bay. It's currently about three-quarters empty," Malcolm
said as he dug into his pasta.
"Isn't that the cargo bay that has all the foam blast protection
screens in it?" Hoshi inquired as she spread her napkin on her
lap.
"You know, I do believe you are right?" Malcolm remarked
casually.
"If I recall correctly, they are approximately the size of couple
of the ship's bunks?"
The Brit smiled knowingly. "I'd say more like three, perhaps
four."
"More like three or four what?"
Hoshi and Malcolm looked up to see that Feezal Phlox had joined
them, taking a seat beside Hoshi. Her dinner plate was laden
with several different foods, ranging from the pasta of the day
to breadsticks, pickles, and pastry.
Malcolm coughed.
"Three or four...ah...work shifts," Hoshi supplied with a nod.
"We were talking about the ship's schedule."
"I see," Feezal picked up a large dill pickle and brought it to
her lips. Lazily she licked it and proceeded to move it in and
out of her mouth.
"You see," Malcolm began. He cleared his throat, apparently
uncomfortable with the Denoblan's presence and actions. "We were
debating whether it's more efficient to schedule three work
shifts a day or..."
His voice caught when he felt a decidedly feminine foot rub along
the inside of his lower leg. He cleared his throat, noticed
Hoshi smile, and reassured he began again.
"You see we thought maybe a four-shift day would allow for
more..."
The foot continued its exploration, this time rising above
Malcolm's knee and up the Brit's inside thigh.
"...allow for more er...flexibility," he croaked.
"I'm sure you are *very* flexible," Feezal remarked, her voice
dripped with desire and innuendo. Abruptly she bit into the
pickle and with a wide Denobulan smile on her face she chewed and
swallowed.
"Um...well...
"I hope your captain realizes just how dedicated you are to the
ship's efficiency. I mean, talking business when you are
supposed to be relaxing? You really should take the time to
enjoy yourself."
Feezal picked up the flaky pastry and breaking it in half
revealed the jelly and creme interior. "Life's too short to
always be working," she continued and taking her finger scooped
out a dollop of sweet white creme. "My husbands were the same
way before I got to know them. All work, all talk, no time to
enjoy the finer things in life." Flicking her long tongue out,
she ever so slowly licked the creme from her finger. Swallowing
the confection, she smiled that unnatural Denobulan wide grin
before she continued. "Of course it wasn't long before we met
before I was able to show them how relaxing, as well as
invigorating, a passionate relationship could be."
Malcolm sat dumbfounded by Feezal's words and actions. He was at
a loss as to what to say to the woman, and he prayed the other
members of the crew in the mess hall, hadn't overheard her
conversation.
"Do you understand what I'm trying to say, Mr. Reed?" Feezal
placed her hand over Malcolm's.
Reacting as if he had been scalded, the Armory Officer quickly
jerked his hand away. Feezal smiled slightly and leaned back
against her chair.
"Um, Malcolm, we *do* have that target practice to get to," Hoshi
remarked. She rose to her feet and picked up her food tray.
"Maybe we should take our meals with us. We wouldn't want to be
late."
"Good idea, Hoshi!" Malcolm was thankful for her intervention.
"Ah, look here comes Travis!" Reed waved to the pilot beckoning
him to come over.
Travis Mayweather nodded, acknowledging his friend's request, and
walked towards the table with his own meal.
"What can I do for you, Malcolm?" he asked.
"Have you met Mrs. Phlox yet?" he asked, he motioned towards the
grinning Denobulan.
"I met her when she visited the bridge," he said. "It's good to
see you again, Mrs. Phlox." Travis placed his tray down upon the
table and shook hands with the woman.
"Please call me Feezal."
Travis grinned broadly. "Of course."
"I'm sure you won't mind keeping Feezal company, while Hoshi and
I attend to some business, would you, Engsign?" he asked, knowing
the pilot wouldn't refuse an indirect command from a superior
officer.
"Oh, not at all, Lieutenant. I'll be glad to keep her company!"
Without any further hesitation, Malcolm and Hoshi left the mess
hall.
* * * * * * *
"And you are sure the door's locked?" Hoshi asked for the fourth
time.
"Locked tighter than a drum, my dear," Malcolm reconfirmed.
Spent and happily content, he rolled off of her and allowed the
linguist to pillow her head against his chest. With his free
hand, he pulled a blanket up over their sweat-glistened nude
bodies.
"Maybe we should reschedule our *practice time* permanently," she
suggested with a joyful sigh. "It was very fortunate that the
emergency beacons and blankets are also stored his this room. I
like how you made them flicker. And the wine you brought was
exquisite."
Malcolm smiled and hugged her naked body against his own. The
flickering light of the beacons was reflected all around the
cargo bay. "Took care of it myself this afternoon. I wanted to
get hold of some of T'Pol's candles, but she's the only one
authorized to use them."
"And the phasers and the targeting dummy?" she asked.
"Damn, you know I think I left those in the Armoury." He didn't
sound at all sorry.
"Too bad." Hoshi ran her hand over her lover's chest,
seductively, raking her fingers through his chest hair.
"Yeah. Of course with the way you were coming on to me in the
mess hall, it's a wonder I didn't do my 'target practicing' in
there."
"What do you mean?"
"You know full well, running your foot up and down my leg," he
said lazily and he trailed on finger across her cheek and down to
her swollen lips. "Really got me going."
She licked the digit when it came in range. "Foot? What foot?"
"Don't feign innocence with me, you vixen!" He tilted her face up
towards him and captured her mouth with his own.
They kissed for several leisurely molten moments before Hoshi
pulled away laughing. "I mean it, Malcolm. I didn't play
footsies with you. You know we are trying to keep this
relationship of ours quiet."
"Well,if you didn't, who..." Malcolm stopped and groaned.
"Mrs. Phlox!" they both said together.
* * * * * * *
As they rode up in the turbolift to the bridge, Feezal spoke to
the pilot. "Thank you so much, Travis."
"Any time, Mrs. Phlox," the helmsman replied.
Stepping forward and encroaching on Mayweather's personal space,
the Denobulan ran a finger down the man's chest. "I want to
thank you for being so kind to me, Travis. I really enjoyed
looking at all the shuttlepods."
Travis grinned and took a half a step back, but Feezal followed,
maintaining her contact with her new friend. "I have some
artwork I think you might find interesting. It's a scul..."
"Well, actually," Travis said, deliberately cutting the woman
off. He hadn't forgotten how she had deliberately squeezed his
butt when they had crawled into one of the smaller shuttlepods.
"I'm not into art that much, but I think Malcolm might appreciate
it." It would serve the Brit right for sticking him with Phlox's
wife. "I think he told me one time that he really had a weakness
for fine art."
Feezal sighed. "Ah, well thank you for letting me know, I'll
have to speak to him about it."
"Good idea, I think he's actually on the bridge..."
At that moment, the door to the turbolift slid open to reveal the
ship's center of activity.
"Yep, he's at his station," Travis pointed over the woman's
shoulder and toward the Tactical Station where Malcolm, head
bowed over the controls, didn't see their entrance.
Feezal moved forward and noted that not only was Malcolm on the
bridge but so was that woman who had been in the mess hall
yesterday. Hearing a whooshing sound behind her, she turned and
saw that Travis hadn't followed her onto the bridge, but instead
had stepped back into the lift.
Hearing the turbolift close, Malcolm lifted his head. Noticing
Feezal, he quickly resumed his task, hoping by looking busy she
wouldn't bother him.
But nothing short of a grappling hook, would stop the woman.
Sauntering across the bridge, Feezal made a beeline towards the
lieutenant.
Malcolm tried to pay attention to the computer readout, but he
couldn't ignore the sound of her approaching footsteps. He kept
to his task, trying to ignore her presence, but when he heard her
inhale deeply and then sigh ever so huskily, he couldn't help but
look up.
"Ah, Mrs. Phlox," Malcolm said. Looking past the Denobulan, he
caught Hoshi's eye and noticed her glare. "Is there something I
can do for you? Are you looking for the Captain?" *Please tell
me you are looking for the Captain!*
"So this is the life force of the ship? The very nucleus that
holds everything together?" Feezal turned slowly around looking
at the viewscreen, the seemingly tense communications officer,
the empty Captain's chair, before once again pivoting back to
look at the Armory Officer.
"It's the bridge, Mrs. Phlox. I was told you'd already been up
here when you were taken on the tour of the ship. I assure you
nothing's changed since then. Now if you'll exc..."
"Actually, my dear man, something has changed. And changed most
dramatically."
"I beg your pardon?"
"It's you, Mr. Reed. Don't you see? You weren't on the bridge
when I visited before. It makes all the difference, all the
difference in the universe!"
Malcolm snorted and bent his head to his task again.
Not to be deterred, Feezal reached across the tactical station,
which separated her from her goal, and ran a finger along the
Brit's temple and down to the top of his ear.
"I've found that I miss hearing your voice. It's so different
that the rest of the crew."
Malcolm reached up and grabbed the woman's questing hand.
"I'm afraid this just isn't appropriate behavior for the bridge,
ma'am."
"I was hoping you'd say that," Feezal purred seductively. "I was
just telling Travis, that back on my ship, I have some exquisite
artwork I'm sure you'd like to see. He told me you are very fond
of art."
"Well, I never..."
"You see, one of my other husband's wives is an accomplished
sculptor. One summer, I posed for her in the nude." Feezal
demonstrated the pose by placing one hand on the back of her
upturned head, thrusting her breasts out, and resting the other
hand against her outer thigh. Maintaining her position, she
winked at the Brit. "Her attention to detail is just amazing,
let me assure you."
Malcolm groaned and buried his face in his hands. Attacking
phaser-blasting aliens he could handle, but he had had apparently
met his match when it came to Feezal Phlox.
"Mrs. Phlox?"
Feezal dropped the pose and turned upon hearing the sound of her
name toward the source of the interruption.
Hoshi smiled sweetly. "I believe they are waiting for you in
Sickbay, Ma'am."
"Oh? Oh, yes. That nice Trip Tucker will be looking for me,"
she said, glancing back at the now relieved Brit. "But don't
think I've forgotten about you, Lieutenant."
Feezal backed away towards the turbolift waving at Malcolm.
"I'm sure we'll meet again, Mr. Reed, before I have to leave the
ship, until then!"
After Feezal entered the turbolift and the doors slid shut,
Malcolm breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed against his
workstation. After taking a couple of moments, he lifted his
head and looked over to see that Hoshi was now approaching him.
"That call couldn't have come at a better time," he said with a
half-smile.
"What call?" she asked innocently. "I said I believed they were
waiting for her. I didn't say that anyone had called the bridge
wondering why she wasn't in sickbay."
"You got to love a linguist," Malcolm remarked, his grin widened.
"Yes," Hoshi said taking over where Feezal had left off, running
her hands through Malcolm's hair. "You do."
* * * * * *
"Just a few more hours, Malcolm," Trip said as he pumped away on
exercycle. "It won't be long before Feezal Phlox will leave
Enterprise.
"Can't come none to soon," Malcolm remarked. He was seated the
exercycle next to the engineer.
"You know I half expect her to walk in here any moment. I swear
nothing will stop that woman from her goal," Trip said to his
friend.
Malcolm smiled. "Unless she has my personal security codes,
she's not getting through that door."
Trip grinned. "I always knew it would come in handy to know you,
Malcolm. Tactical officers do have their uses."
They continued to pedal the bikes for several more moments,
before Trip spoke again. "So how did the target practice go?"
"Fine. Just fine. Hoshi's really coming along."
"Ah, huh."
"Excuse me?"
"Let's just say, the next time you 'n Hoshi go target practicing,
you need to remember to discard all the evidence. You left
behind a couple of emergency beacons and a wine glass in the
secondary cargo bay."
"Oh."
"If you two don't watch it, the whole ship will find out about
what target you're practicing on."
"Duly noted, sir."
"Oh c'mon, Malcolm. I'm all for it. In fact I think you two
probably do very well 'target practicing.'
"And who else knows?"
Trip shrugged. "Maybe Porthos. He was with me at the time, and
did a lot of sniffing around that cargo bay."
"Trip?"
"Yeah, Malcolm?"
"No more talk about sniffing, okay?"
* * * * * *
A few hours later, the senior staff stood at attention along one
side of the corridor that led to the shuttlepod launch bay.
Beginning with Travis, by order of rank, the crew waited while
Feezal, accompanied by her husband, walked down the corridor.
Feezal paid her respects to Travis, who immediately left the line
and headed for the shuttlepod as soon as she moved on to the next
person in line.
Stepping up to Hoshi, Feezal extended a hand to the young woman.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Hoshi. I hope we can meet again
someday."
Being polite, Hoshi nodded and shook her hand. "I was very glad
to meet you," Hoshi said. "I'm sure we'll meet again."
Moving forward, Feezel held out her hand to Malcolm. Politely
the Brit grasped it lightly with his own. "Dear Mr. Reed, we
must get together in the future. There are so many things we
need to talk about, and so many things I have to show you."
Malcolm blushed.
"You never did get to see my art collection, did you?"
Hoshi leaned to her right, nearer Malcolm and Feezal, and spoke
softly to the woman using the Denobulan language. Then ended the
conversation with a kind smile and her eyes zeroed in on the
other woman's.
Feezal smiled nervously, and stepped away from Malcolm and spoke
with Commander Tucker.
"What did you say to her?" Malcolm whispered.
"I told her that you were mine, and that unlike Denobulans, I
didn't believe in sharing. Feezel then reminded me that you and I
aren't wed."
Malcolm bobbed his head.
"I informed her that we weren't wed -- yet. But that I had
plans, and they didn't include anyone else being part of the
union."
"Plans?" Malcolm asked.
"I'll tell you all about them during our next target practice
session."
The End
Contact: [email protected]
Series: ENT
Rating: R
Code: R/S
Part: 1/3 NEW
Date: February 08, 2003
Summary: In Stigma, Mrs. Phlox was very interested in Trip
Tucker. What if Trip wasn't the only male on Enterprise she was
attracted to? AN: The exercise bicycle scene in the episode, has
been rewritten in this story.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns all the characters, etc., I am just
using the characters for a little fun and relaxation.
Note of Appreciation. Special thanks to my beta readers: P.J.
Sutherland, Ronda Sexton, Val, Jessica, and Nancy (special thank
you to Jess and Nancy for their encouragement).
Posting: Please notify me before you do.
Hurricane Feezal
02/08/03
Malcolm calculated the trajectory, total mass, speed of impact,
and deftly speared his cherry tomato with his fork. Pausing
before he brought it to his mouth, he turned to Trip. "Then
during Mrs. Phlox's tour of the Armoury, she suddenly stopped
beside me and sniffed. Not a casual sniff mind you, but like she
was trying to memorize my scent. Bloody hell, I was glad I'd put
on my deodorant this morning. Any idea what that was all about,
Trip?"
Malcolm noted that Trip had suddenly stopped chewing his pot
roast and was giving him a funny look.
"Trip? Are you choking? Do you need some water?" The Brit
pushed his water glass nearer to the engineer.
Trip grabbed the tumbler and emptied it in one gulp. He wiped
his mouth with the back of his hand, and before he replied. "She
did what?"
Chewing on the tomato while he sawed away at his pork chop, the
armory officer nodded then swallowed. "She sniffed me. I didn't
know what to make of it."
"Oh, God! Not you too?" Trip groaned.
"Beg your pardon?"
"You weren't there when Feezal...er...Mrs. Phlox arrived on board
were you, Malcolm?"
"Nope, I was busy on the bridge. Why?"
"Then you didn't see her and the doctor when they first met. I
tell you if one of them had turned around and then sniffed, it
would have reminded me of that old dog my grandfather used to
own. Sniffed all the female dogs in the neighborhood, just
before he..."
"I think I get the picture, Trip."
"I'm not sure you do. It was very strange. Both comical and
erotic. Very bizarre combination. I didn't know whether to
laugh or to take a cold shower."
Malcolm placed his fork and knife back on his plate and rested
his chin against his cupped hands. "So let me get this straight,
you're saying she was trying to come on to me?" Fortunately the
dining room was all but vacant, so no one heard their
conversation.
"Yep. Ya should'a seen her in Sickbay. She didn't actually
sniff me, but she got *real* close -- and sometimes even when the
Doc was in the room!"
With a grin and a shake of his head, Malcolm picked up his fork
and continued with his meal. "Well, Denobulans do have more
than one spouse. So they probably aren't as self-conscious with
their displays of affection." He laughed lightly. "She is
rather cute, in a Denobulan sort of way."
The table suddenly vibrated as a tray of food slammed onto the
surface. The motion caused the bowl of soup on the tray to
slosh, dribbling its tomato base down the side of the bowl.
"You call that just a 'display of affection'?" Hoshi asked the
Brit. "Looked to me like she was trying to inhale you!"
"Ah, Hoshi. Um...I didn't realize you were in the Armory at the
time," Malcolm remarked, clearly self-conscious. Like the
gentleman he was, he rose from the table waiting for Hoshi to
take her seat.
Turning away from the Brit, Hoshi focused all her attention on
the Southerner, as she lowered herself onto the chair. "How
quick they forget, Commander," Hoshi remarked sweetly as if
indulging an errant child.
Trip smiled, but didn't appear to comprehend Hoshi's insinuation.
"Ensign?" Malcolm prompted now seated again. The engineer wasn't
the only one who didn't understand her reference.
Hoshi turned back toward the lieutenant. "What day is it?" she
asked slowly, her head tilted to her right slightly, and she gave
Reed a small smile.
"Um...Tuesday."
The Communications Officer unwrapped the napkin from around her
eating utensils, and selected a soup spoon. She stirred her
steaming bowl of tomato vegetable soup slowly and deliberately,
not taking her eyes off the liquid.
"Is there anything specific that happens every Tuesday?" Her
eyes lifted and focused again on the lieutenant.
"Well I always clean the torpedo tubes, and then I run the
diagnostics on the...oh. Oh no. Bloody hell, I completely
forgot!"
"We've only been doing *it* every Tuesday and Thursday at noon
for the last nine months. I thought you enjoyed our time
together!"
"Ah, listen, you two," Trip interjected. "This is way too much
infor..."
Hoshi ignored the engineer. "I know you wish we had more time
together, so lately I've been trying to come earlier."
A blushing Trip moved to rise from the table. With one hand,
while still looking at Malcolm, Hoshi gripped the embarrassed
man's forearm and pulled Trip back down into his seat.
Apparently she either demanded a witness or an audience.
Malcolm buried his head in his hands and groaned. "I'm so sorry,
Hoshi, I forgot all about it. You see the Captain asked...and
then I....and she..."
"I thought you enjoyed our noon-times together?" Hoshi continued.
"You told me you looked forward to it? You weren't just leading
me on were you?"
Trip tried to rise again, but Hoshi's grip remained firm.
Malcolm lowered his hands and looked at the irate ensign. "Look
can we reschedule target practice for some other time? How about
after tonight's evening meal? And we can make it two hours, not
just one."
"Target practice?" Trip asked the pair. "This is about target
practice?"
Malcolm turned toward his friend. "What did you think it was
about?" he asked innocently.
"You don't want to know." Trip shook his head, and removed
Hoshi's hand from his sleeve. "Look, you two, I have to get back
down to Sickbay. Feezal's...er...Mrs. Phlox is expecting me."
"You better hope that's not all she's expecting, Trip," Malcolm
joked.
With a smile and a shake of the head, Trip left the pair behind.
"Just 'target practice,' Malcolm?" Hoshi cooed.
"Well, it sounds much better than 'doing the dirty deed' doesn't
it?" the Brit remarked.
The linguist chuckled.
* * * * * * *
The rest of the afternoon passed rather smoothly for the ship's
armory officer. He recalibrated the tactical sensors and
performed some overdue crew evaluations, all the while looking
forward to an evening meal with Hoshi followed by a double dose
of 'target practicing.'
Carrying his ever-present DataPADD with him, Malcolm queued up in
the mess hall. Tucking the PADD under one arm, he picked up his
tray. He stepped away from the food bar, and seeing Hoshi seated
off to the side, he walked over and sat down across the table
from her.
"I've arranged for us to do target practicing in the secondary
cargo bay. It's currently about three-quarters empty," Malcolm
said as he dug into his pasta.
"Isn't that the cargo bay that has all the foam blast protection
screens in it?" Hoshi inquired as she spread her napkin on her
lap.
"You know, I do believe you are right?" Malcolm remarked
casually.
"If I recall correctly, they are approximately the size of couple
of the ship's bunks?"
The Brit smiled knowingly. "I'd say more like three, perhaps
four."
"More like three or four what?"
Hoshi and Malcolm looked up to see that Feezal Phlox had joined
them, taking a seat beside Hoshi. Her dinner plate was laden
with several different foods, ranging from the pasta of the day
to breadsticks, pickles, and pastry.
Malcolm coughed.
"Three or four...ah...work shifts," Hoshi supplied with a nod.
"We were talking about the ship's schedule."
"I see," Feezal picked up a large dill pickle and brought it to
her lips. Lazily she licked it and proceeded to move it in and
out of her mouth.
"You see," Malcolm began. He cleared his throat, apparently
uncomfortable with the Denoblan's presence and actions. "We were
debating whether it's more efficient to schedule three work
shifts a day or..."
His voice caught when he felt a decidedly feminine foot rub along
the inside of his lower leg. He cleared his throat, noticed
Hoshi smile, and reassured he began again.
"You see we thought maybe a four-shift day would allow for
more..."
The foot continued its exploration, this time rising above
Malcolm's knee and up the Brit's inside thigh.
"...allow for more er...flexibility," he croaked.
"I'm sure you are *very* flexible," Feezal remarked, her voice
dripped with desire and innuendo. Abruptly she bit into the
pickle and with a wide Denobulan smile on her face she chewed and
swallowed.
"Um...well...
"I hope your captain realizes just how dedicated you are to the
ship's efficiency. I mean, talking business when you are
supposed to be relaxing? You really should take the time to
enjoy yourself."
Feezal picked up the flaky pastry and breaking it in half
revealed the jelly and creme interior. "Life's too short to
always be working," she continued and taking her finger scooped
out a dollop of sweet white creme. "My husbands were the same
way before I got to know them. All work, all talk, no time to
enjoy the finer things in life." Flicking her long tongue out,
she ever so slowly licked the creme from her finger. Swallowing
the confection, she smiled that unnatural Denobulan wide grin
before she continued. "Of course it wasn't long before we met
before I was able to show them how relaxing, as well as
invigorating, a passionate relationship could be."
Malcolm sat dumbfounded by Feezal's words and actions. He was at
a loss as to what to say to the woman, and he prayed the other
members of the crew in the mess hall, hadn't overheard her
conversation.
"Do you understand what I'm trying to say, Mr. Reed?" Feezal
placed her hand over Malcolm's.
Reacting as if he had been scalded, the Armory Officer quickly
jerked his hand away. Feezal smiled slightly and leaned back
against her chair.
"Um, Malcolm, we *do* have that target practice to get to," Hoshi
remarked. She rose to her feet and picked up her food tray.
"Maybe we should take our meals with us. We wouldn't want to be
late."
"Good idea, Hoshi!" Malcolm was thankful for her intervention.
"Ah, look here comes Travis!" Reed waved to the pilot beckoning
him to come over.
Travis Mayweather nodded, acknowledging his friend's request, and
walked towards the table with his own meal.
"What can I do for you, Malcolm?" he asked.
"Have you met Mrs. Phlox yet?" he asked, he motioned towards the
grinning Denobulan.
"I met her when she visited the bridge," he said. "It's good to
see you again, Mrs. Phlox." Travis placed his tray down upon the
table and shook hands with the woman.
"Please call me Feezal."
Travis grinned broadly. "Of course."
"I'm sure you won't mind keeping Feezal company, while Hoshi and
I attend to some business, would you, Engsign?" he asked, knowing
the pilot wouldn't refuse an indirect command from a superior
officer.
"Oh, not at all, Lieutenant. I'll be glad to keep her company!"
Without any further hesitation, Malcolm and Hoshi left the mess
hall.
* * * * * * *
"And you are sure the door's locked?" Hoshi asked for the fourth
time.
"Locked tighter than a drum, my dear," Malcolm reconfirmed.
Spent and happily content, he rolled off of her and allowed the
linguist to pillow her head against his chest. With his free
hand, he pulled a blanket up over their sweat-glistened nude
bodies.
"Maybe we should reschedule our *practice time* permanently," she
suggested with a joyful sigh. "It was very fortunate that the
emergency beacons and blankets are also stored his this room. I
like how you made them flicker. And the wine you brought was
exquisite."
Malcolm smiled and hugged her naked body against his own. The
flickering light of the beacons was reflected all around the
cargo bay. "Took care of it myself this afternoon. I wanted to
get hold of some of T'Pol's candles, but she's the only one
authorized to use them."
"And the phasers and the targeting dummy?" she asked.
"Damn, you know I think I left those in the Armoury." He didn't
sound at all sorry.
"Too bad." Hoshi ran her hand over her lover's chest,
seductively, raking her fingers through his chest hair.
"Yeah. Of course with the way you were coming on to me in the
mess hall, it's a wonder I didn't do my 'target practicing' in
there."
"What do you mean?"
"You know full well, running your foot up and down my leg," he
said lazily and he trailed on finger across her cheek and down to
her swollen lips. "Really got me going."
She licked the digit when it came in range. "Foot? What foot?"
"Don't feign innocence with me, you vixen!" He tilted her face up
towards him and captured her mouth with his own.
They kissed for several leisurely molten moments before Hoshi
pulled away laughing. "I mean it, Malcolm. I didn't play
footsies with you. You know we are trying to keep this
relationship of ours quiet."
"Well,if you didn't, who..." Malcolm stopped and groaned.
"Mrs. Phlox!" they both said together.
* * * * * * *
As they rode up in the turbolift to the bridge, Feezal spoke to
the pilot. "Thank you so much, Travis."
"Any time, Mrs. Phlox," the helmsman replied.
Stepping forward and encroaching on Mayweather's personal space,
the Denobulan ran a finger down the man's chest. "I want to
thank you for being so kind to me, Travis. I really enjoyed
looking at all the shuttlepods."
Travis grinned and took a half a step back, but Feezal followed,
maintaining her contact with her new friend. "I have some
artwork I think you might find interesting. It's a scul..."
"Well, actually," Travis said, deliberately cutting the woman
off. He hadn't forgotten how she had deliberately squeezed his
butt when they had crawled into one of the smaller shuttlepods.
"I'm not into art that much, but I think Malcolm might appreciate
it." It would serve the Brit right for sticking him with Phlox's
wife. "I think he told me one time that he really had a weakness
for fine art."
Feezal sighed. "Ah, well thank you for letting me know, I'll
have to speak to him about it."
"Good idea, I think he's actually on the bridge..."
At that moment, the door to the turbolift slid open to reveal the
ship's center of activity.
"Yep, he's at his station," Travis pointed over the woman's
shoulder and toward the Tactical Station where Malcolm, head
bowed over the controls, didn't see their entrance.
Feezal moved forward and noted that not only was Malcolm on the
bridge but so was that woman who had been in the mess hall
yesterday. Hearing a whooshing sound behind her, she turned and
saw that Travis hadn't followed her onto the bridge, but instead
had stepped back into the lift.
Hearing the turbolift close, Malcolm lifted his head. Noticing
Feezal, he quickly resumed his task, hoping by looking busy she
wouldn't bother him.
But nothing short of a grappling hook, would stop the woman.
Sauntering across the bridge, Feezal made a beeline towards the
lieutenant.
Malcolm tried to pay attention to the computer readout, but he
couldn't ignore the sound of her approaching footsteps. He kept
to his task, trying to ignore her presence, but when he heard her
inhale deeply and then sigh ever so huskily, he couldn't help but
look up.
"Ah, Mrs. Phlox," Malcolm said. Looking past the Denobulan, he
caught Hoshi's eye and noticed her glare. "Is there something I
can do for you? Are you looking for the Captain?" *Please tell
me you are looking for the Captain!*
"So this is the life force of the ship? The very nucleus that
holds everything together?" Feezal turned slowly around looking
at the viewscreen, the seemingly tense communications officer,
the empty Captain's chair, before once again pivoting back to
look at the Armory Officer.
"It's the bridge, Mrs. Phlox. I was told you'd already been up
here when you were taken on the tour of the ship. I assure you
nothing's changed since then. Now if you'll exc..."
"Actually, my dear man, something has changed. And changed most
dramatically."
"I beg your pardon?"
"It's you, Mr. Reed. Don't you see? You weren't on the bridge
when I visited before. It makes all the difference, all the
difference in the universe!"
Malcolm snorted and bent his head to his task again.
Not to be deterred, Feezal reached across the tactical station,
which separated her from her goal, and ran a finger along the
Brit's temple and down to the top of his ear.
"I've found that I miss hearing your voice. It's so different
that the rest of the crew."
Malcolm reached up and grabbed the woman's questing hand.
"I'm afraid this just isn't appropriate behavior for the bridge,
ma'am."
"I was hoping you'd say that," Feezal purred seductively. "I was
just telling Travis, that back on my ship, I have some exquisite
artwork I'm sure you'd like to see. He told me you are very fond
of art."
"Well, I never..."
"You see, one of my other husband's wives is an accomplished
sculptor. One summer, I posed for her in the nude." Feezal
demonstrated the pose by placing one hand on the back of her
upturned head, thrusting her breasts out, and resting the other
hand against her outer thigh. Maintaining her position, she
winked at the Brit. "Her attention to detail is just amazing,
let me assure you."
Malcolm groaned and buried his face in his hands. Attacking
phaser-blasting aliens he could handle, but he had had apparently
met his match when it came to Feezal Phlox.
"Mrs. Phlox?"
Feezal dropped the pose and turned upon hearing the sound of her
name toward the source of the interruption.
Hoshi smiled sweetly. "I believe they are waiting for you in
Sickbay, Ma'am."
"Oh? Oh, yes. That nice Trip Tucker will be looking for me,"
she said, glancing back at the now relieved Brit. "But don't
think I've forgotten about you, Lieutenant."
Feezal backed away towards the turbolift waving at Malcolm.
"I'm sure we'll meet again, Mr. Reed, before I have to leave the
ship, until then!"
After Feezal entered the turbolift and the doors slid shut,
Malcolm breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed against his
workstation. After taking a couple of moments, he lifted his
head and looked over to see that Hoshi was now approaching him.
"That call couldn't have come at a better time," he said with a
half-smile.
"What call?" she asked innocently. "I said I believed they were
waiting for her. I didn't say that anyone had called the bridge
wondering why she wasn't in sickbay."
"You got to love a linguist," Malcolm remarked, his grin widened.
"Yes," Hoshi said taking over where Feezal had left off, running
her hands through Malcolm's hair. "You do."
* * * * * *
"Just a few more hours, Malcolm," Trip said as he pumped away on
exercycle. "It won't be long before Feezal Phlox will leave
Enterprise.
"Can't come none to soon," Malcolm remarked. He was seated the
exercycle next to the engineer.
"You know I half expect her to walk in here any moment. I swear
nothing will stop that woman from her goal," Trip said to his
friend.
Malcolm smiled. "Unless she has my personal security codes,
she's not getting through that door."
Trip grinned. "I always knew it would come in handy to know you,
Malcolm. Tactical officers do have their uses."
They continued to pedal the bikes for several more moments,
before Trip spoke again. "So how did the target practice go?"
"Fine. Just fine. Hoshi's really coming along."
"Ah, huh."
"Excuse me?"
"Let's just say, the next time you 'n Hoshi go target practicing,
you need to remember to discard all the evidence. You left
behind a couple of emergency beacons and a wine glass in the
secondary cargo bay."
"Oh."
"If you two don't watch it, the whole ship will find out about
what target you're practicing on."
"Duly noted, sir."
"Oh c'mon, Malcolm. I'm all for it. In fact I think you two
probably do very well 'target practicing.'
"And who else knows?"
Trip shrugged. "Maybe Porthos. He was with me at the time, and
did a lot of sniffing around that cargo bay."
"Trip?"
"Yeah, Malcolm?"
"No more talk about sniffing, okay?"
* * * * * *
A few hours later, the senior staff stood at attention along one
side of the corridor that led to the shuttlepod launch bay.
Beginning with Travis, by order of rank, the crew waited while
Feezal, accompanied by her husband, walked down the corridor.
Feezal paid her respects to Travis, who immediately left the line
and headed for the shuttlepod as soon as she moved on to the next
person in line.
Stepping up to Hoshi, Feezal extended a hand to the young woman.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Hoshi. I hope we can meet again
someday."
Being polite, Hoshi nodded and shook her hand. "I was very glad
to meet you," Hoshi said. "I'm sure we'll meet again."
Moving forward, Feezel held out her hand to Malcolm. Politely
the Brit grasped it lightly with his own. "Dear Mr. Reed, we
must get together in the future. There are so many things we
need to talk about, and so many things I have to show you."
Malcolm blushed.
"You never did get to see my art collection, did you?"
Hoshi leaned to her right, nearer Malcolm and Feezal, and spoke
softly to the woman using the Denobulan language. Then ended the
conversation with a kind smile and her eyes zeroed in on the
other woman's.
Feezal smiled nervously, and stepped away from Malcolm and spoke
with Commander Tucker.
"What did you say to her?" Malcolm whispered.
"I told her that you were mine, and that unlike Denobulans, I
didn't believe in sharing. Feezel then reminded me that you and I
aren't wed."
Malcolm bobbed his head.
"I informed her that we weren't wed -- yet. But that I had
plans, and they didn't include anyone else being part of the
union."
"Plans?" Malcolm asked.
"I'll tell you all about them during our next target practice
session."
The End