He was back on the shuttle again. It was cold, dark and far too quiet. He could hear only the sound of his own breathing. Getting up, he shivered and moved through the pod towards the frost-covered windows. He scraped a small spot clear and peered out. No stars were visible, only blackness. How strange, he thought. He turned to the blanketed figure in the seat at the rear of the shuttle. "Trip?" he called out softly, "Are you awake?" Getting no reply, he crossed the room and touched the man's shoulder. Still there was no response. Malcolm's hand started to tremble as he touched his lover's face. It was ice cold.

Malcolm woke with a start, body shaking, eyes wet. As he reached for the man next to him he remembered that no one was there. He was alone. Trip was still planet-side with the captain, as he had been for the past three days. And Malcolm had suffered a repeat of the same nightmare each of those three nights. He wiped his eyes with the sheet and laid his head back on the pillow. 'What a neurotic little twit' he thought. And wondered, not for the first time, if Trip had any idea what a bloody fool he was.

His room was as quiet as the shuttlepod in his dark dream. He tried to get back to sleep. The small bed suddenly seemed vast and unbearably empty. Odd, considering that trying to actually sleep with his lover had at first seemed impossible. Trip would snuggle up so close, arms and legs wrapped draped over Malcolm, body pressed close. Malcolm was crowded and overwhelmed by the intrusion into his space. And it was not easy to extract himself during the night when he needed to use the head. But now—now he laid in the dark, looking at the stars slowly pass by his window, feeling terribly alone and very very awake. And more than a little disturbed by his powerful need to be with his lover. Who was at this moment on a strange planet with the captain, visiting an unknown civilization with no security team to keep an eye on them…

He threw back the bedcovers, dressed and left.

***

He entered the mess, seeking comfort in tea and scones. The large room was almost empty, but as he gathered his meal, he saw the doctor. He joined the man with a brief nod. Dr. Phlox was an odd fellow, but interesting nonetheless. And he needed the company.

"Hello Lieutenant Reed", the Doctor greeted him warmly, looking up from his notes. "Up late tonight? Some pressing matter you had to take care of on the ship?"

"No, Doctor," Malcolm sighed. "Just having trouble sleeping lately. " No sense in skirting the truth, he knew he looked like hell.

The doctor nodded thoughtfully. "I thought you looked a little tired. I can give you something to help you sleep if you like."

"Have anything for nightmares?" Malcolm blurted out, regretting it immediately. That was none of the doctor's business. He was certain no one else on board was aware of his relationship with Trip. And he intended to keep it that way. He toyed with his scone, no longer hungry. He realized Phlox was still looking at him expectantly. He continued, "Just memories of the Shuttlepod situation coming back to haunt me." Malcolm examined his scone carefully, not meeting the doctor's eyes.

"Ah," said the Doctor. "That's not surprising. I'm sure it was quite a traumatic experience. And," he paused." With Commander Tucker off the ship you must be feeling a bit lonely."

Malcolm felt his face grow hot. "I fail to see how that can have anything to do with it," he said to the doctor.

"All right then." But Phlox looked as if he had just observed a fascinating scientific phenomenon. Malcolm half expected him to start jotting down notes. "But you might want to know they will be returning tomorrow, errr, that is this afternoon." The doctor continued, "Bringing a contingent of Delians to visit the ship for a tour."

"Bringing them on board this ship?" asked Malcolm incredulously. "We know nothing about these people." He swore to himself. The captain seemed to have no concern what so ever for security.

"I assume that the Captain feels at this point he knows and trusts them." But Malcolm was already getting up to leave. He felt the need to be in the armory, to make sure everything was in order. He bid the Doctor good evening.

***

Malcolm listened to the shuttle doors close with a thump. The captain and his chief engineer were back, along with their guests. He stayed in the armory, continuing his maintenance on the phaser pistols. The captain had not formally requested his presence, and he would rather not have to greet his lover in front of a large group of aliens.

A short time later Trip came bursting into the room, much to Malcolm's satisfaction. "Malcolm!" exclaimed the man enthusiastically. He engulfed the armory officer in a fierce hug. "Didja miss me?" Before Malcolm could respond his mouth was engaged fully by the other man's. They lingered in a long, passionate kiss, Malcolm's fingers sliding up to entwine themselves in the taller man's golden hair.

When they finally broke off Malcolm replied blandly, "Oh, had you left the ship? I hadn't noticed."

Trip grabbed the front of Malcolm's uniform and replied, "I'd make you pay for that smart-assed comment right now but I have to get back to the Captain for the tour."

"How many Delians are aboard the ship?" asked Malcolm, curious. When Trip informed him that as many as twenty were visiting, he grew more worried. "Isn't that a lot to keep track of? How do you know we can trust them?"

Trip sighed. "Malcolm, could you stop being so paranoid for a minute? The Captain is tryin' to develop diplomatic relations with the Delians. They wanted a tour, an' he felt it was a perfectly reasonable request."

Malcolm still felt uneasy. "He also thought visiting Coridan was a good idea too, look how well that turned out." The memory of how easily the Captain and T'Pol were snatched up by the terrorists disturbed him greatly.

Trip sighed. "Malcolm—I…listen, these people are not going to cause any trouble. Trust me."

***

Malcolm yanked one more time on the restraints and cursed. It was obviously pointless, his arms were securely pinned behind the table leg, and the table was even more securely bolted to the floor. He was stuck there, sitting on the floor, while the oh-so-friendly Delians were doing God knows what. With his weapons. He felt like a fool. He should have known better when the five aliens entered the armory without a Starfleet officer accompanying them. He cursed some more, and then shouted out for anyone, someone to get him free. The whole crew could be dead by now, he thought. He was tormented by the thought of Trip being hurt, even though the aliens could have killed him but didn't. He hoped that was a good sign, and not merely evidence of sloppy work.

After what seemed like hours, he heard a sound and the door opened. Relief flooded thought his body as Trip entered the room carefully. Seeing Malcolm, he pulled out his communicator and informed the captain he had finally located the armory officer.

"Malcolm, you all right?" the concern on his face touched Malcolm.

"Just fine, Trip, really," Malcolm assured him. "Nothing harmed but my dignity. Just what the hell happened?"

Trip explained that the incident had been confined to the small group of five that Malcolm had encountered. They had intended to sell the weapons, although they weren't very clear on how they were going to get off the Enterprise with them. Apparently they hadn't thought the whole plan through very carefully. They had since been rounded up and disarmed, and were dispatched back to their own planet, with heartfelt apologies from the planet's government. After his explanation Trip paused and looked at Malcolm.

"Darlin'—just go ahead and say it, OK?" he asked.

"No," he said wearily. It had been a very long day. "That's not the point. Just, well, next time, listen to me first??" It came out sounding more harsh then he meant it to.

Trip nodded. "So, are you totally pissed at me?

"I should be." Malcolm answered. Really. Those aliens could have done anything with those weapons. But the truth was he was just happy to see his lover alive and healthy. And back on board the Enterprise. He looked at the man standing in front of him. "Are you going to get me out of these things or what?" Malcolm inquired.

Trip sighed. "No, I don't think that would be a good idea just yet. Fer my own safety an' all." He looked very serious.

Malcolm tried to hide his grin. "Really, Trip, get these things off me, " he insisted.

His lover kneeled next to him, pressing his body against Malcolm, while twisting around to examine the metal device holding his hands together. "Hmmmm, may need some tools…"

Malcolm felt the tickle of warm breath on his neck. Then gentle kisses rained just above the collar of his uniform. "Trip—" he tried to sound stern, but instead it came out with a pleading quality. Trip began nuzzling his ear, causing a tingling sensation to run from his neck to his shoulders, groin—down to his very toes. Malcolm wanted to grab Trip's head, bury his fingers in that golden hair, and kiss him. But this was his workstation, for heaven's sake. "Trip, stop that now!" he demanded with more force this time.

The result was a sharp nip on his earlobe. He gasped. God that felt good, Trip chuckled softly deep in his throat. He continued kissing Malcolm, moving along his cheek. Malcolm leaned into it, rubbing his face against the other mans, inhaling his scent. Then Trip's lip's brushed his but moved away before completing the kiss. Malcolm leaned forward as far as he could but Trip's face stayed inches from his.

"Dammit Trip!" It wasn't fair. He was the one who wanted to tie up his lover, but had lacked the courage to suggest it yet.

A small smile played on his lover's lips. "I like you like this, Malcolm," he said.

"Trip, will you please let me go?" He was starting to feel distinctly uncomfortable. He wasn't ready for this yet. Wasn't ready to feel so powerless.

"Not yet, Lieutenant." He moved so that he was kneeling directly between Malcolm's legs, close enough that Malcolm had to spread his legs wide. "I have to make up for not listenin' you."

A chill ran down Malcolm's spine. Leaning back against the hard table leg, he could feel the cold floor beneath his ass and the cold metal of the cuffs against his skin. The bulge between his legs was getting more prominent, something Trip already noticed. His lover looked very pleased with himself. Still, Malcolm wasn't ready to give in.

"Trip, what if someone comes in. Can't we take this elsewhere?" he asked in his most reasonable tone of voice.

"You're absolutely right darlin'. Someone could come in. That's all part of the fun." He put his hands on Malcolm's thighs, and began slowly sliding them up. Malcolm tried valiantly not to squirm, but he was unsuccessful.

"Don't you have to go help the Captain deal with the Delians?" It was worth a try. "Nnnnnope. They're off ship. The planet's government security force is handling it. I think they'll do just fine by themselves." Trip's hands reached Malcolm's center, and his thumbs were gently massaging his erection through the layers of clothing.

"Oh…" Malcolm felt as though he was rapidly losing the ability to talk. "…what if the captain needs something blown up?" he asked weakly.

"Malcolm, you are just so cute, you know that?" Trip's roving hands worked their way up to Malcolm's face and held it gently on either side. He kissed Malcolm, gently at first, just brushing his lips against the other man's. The kisses gradually became more urgent, his tongue probing deeply.

Malcolm returned the kisses passionately. The longer it went on the more frustrated he became, clanking the restraints at the table leg trying to get his hands free. He wanted to touch his lover, grab him, just somehow get in control of the situation. Just do something other than sit here, legs spread wide, accepting what Trip gave him. He managed to pull away from Trip's kisses, even though it almost physically hurt to do so. He was about to again demand to be released but when he saw the look on Trip's face he stopped. He realized that no one had ever quite looked at him this way. The words died in this throat before he could get them out.

Trip leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the nose. Then slid his finger over Malcolm's lips "Malcolm, the way you make me feel is just amazin'", Trip murmured. He reached for the front of Malcolm's collar and slowly began unzipping. By time he reached the end of the zipper, Malcolm was breathing heavily. Then Trip frowned. "These damn uniforms are really poorly designed for this sort of thing, ya know that?" He pondered the situation, then reached for Malcolm's shoulders again and pulled the uniform off them, as far as he could, considering the position of Malcolm's arms. A little more tugging by his hips and had lowered it enough to expose the blue undergarment. "Perhaps," suggested Malcolm, "You should bring this to the attention of Starfleet Command." He squirmed, wishing Trip would just hurry up and rub him again. The need to be freed from the restraints suddenly didn't seem quite so urgent anymore. There were more pressing matters on his mind.

"I just might," said Trip, nodding, his boyish face very serious. He lifted Malcolm's shirt as high as he could, bunching it under Malcolm's arms. He ran his fingers over Malcolm's chest and stomach, causing small noises to emanate from the man. He lingered over the nipples, first pinching them gently, carefully watching Malcolm's face. Then he pinched them both, hard.

"Oh, god, Trip—" Malcolm blurted out. The feeling was incredible. He thought he was going to come. Trip covered his mouth with another kiss, fingers still working the tender, sensitive areas of his chest. Malcolm clenched his fists, pulling against the restraints, yearning to wrap his arms around his lover, wanting to feel their bodies touching. Trip stopped and pulled back. Malcolm noticed his lover was panting too.

Trip began to free Malcolm's almost painful erection. He slid the bright blue Starfleet regulation skivvies down, and reached in, cupping Malcolm's sensitive balls. He slid his hands up, running his fingers along the hot, throbbing cock, releasing it. Then he sat back to admire his handiwork. "Now, ain't you a pretty sight" he said hoarsely, looking Malcolm up and down.

Malcolm felt totally exposed—his shirt pulled up, his pants pulled down, his erection out in the breeze. The small part of his mind realized someone really could still walk in at any time—the Captain? T'Pol? Travis? It wasn't likely to happen, but still possible. His cock twitched at the thought. Maybe Trip was right, that really was part of the fun.

Trip looked at him thoughtfully, eyebrows coming together, then grinned. He leaped up, found a toolbox and picked up a small bottle. He returned, reading the label.

"What the hell are you doing, Trip?" Malcolm asked, even though he already knew. "We use that on the phase cannons for God's sake!" he exclaimed.

"I know. Appropriate, don'tcha think?" Trip winked at him, and went back to looking at the label. "Yup, food quality lubricant. I think this will do." He knelt back down between Malcolm's legs. Malcolm began to tremble in anticipation. He needed to feel his lover's touch.

But Trip had something else in mind. With an wicked grin, he began unzipping his own uniform. Malcolm watched, enjoying the sight. Trip shrugged the contrary uniform off his shoulders, pulled his arms out, and then removed his shirt. He then slipped his pants down just past his hips, exposing the hard, hot erection, rising up out of the soft dark brown curls at his crotch. Sitting back, he spread his legs, resting them gently on top of Malcolm's.

Malcolm's eyes widened. He watched, not breathing, as his lover poured some of the clear liquid into his hands. Oh god, he thought. I'm not going to survive this. Trip looked Malcolm in the eyes as he reached down and touched himself, gasping softly as his hands made contact. He stroked up and down along his shaft, then reached down, cupping his balls gently, and continued with the motion.

Malcolm was mesmerized. He had never seen anything so beautiful. He looked up at his lover's face, and realized that Trip was watching the expression on *his* face. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment, Malcolm feeling more naked than ever. Then Trip closed his eyes and groaned, an ecstatic expression on his face. Malcolm looked at the broad, heaving chest, so finely muscled. Then back down to his lover's hands, as his lover pleasured himself, strong fingers working gently, sliding, pausing to caress the sensitive tip. Malcolm heard himself whimper as he imagined sensation on his own cock. He wanted desperately to rub himself against something. Straining forward, he tried to get closer to those slick hands. He wanted that glistening cock. He wanted to run his hands over that body. His yearning was almost a physical pain.

Trip began to slowly pick up speed, occasionally running his hand up over his chest, toying with his own nipple before reaching back down. Malcolm realized Trip had opened his eyes and was watching him again. "Malcolm," he gasped. "Oh darlin'. When I think about you—. Away from you for three days, and it felt like forever." He moved faster and faster, jerking his hips until finally he came, silently, head thrown back, mouth open, panting.

Malcolm nearly came with him. He felt dizzy, and wondered if he remembered to breathe at all during Trip's erotic display. God what a marvelous man.

Trip hung his head down for a moment, catching his breath. He looked at his stomach, and ran a finger through the cream splattered there. "Didja enjoy the show?" he asked almost shyly, reaching to slide his sticky finger into Malcolm's mouth, not giving him a chance to answer.

Malcolm sucked his finger, tasting his lover He couldn't have answered coherently anyway. Closed his eyes. The finger disappeared, replaced by Trip's tongue. He groaned at the sensation of his lover's tastes mingling in his mouth.

Then he gasped, breaking off the kiss as Trip gently touched his erection, softly running his fingertips down his shaft. He opened his eyes to see his lover's smiling face watching him.

"You're awfully sensitive," commented Trip. "Sure you want me to continue?" he asked playfully, moving his hands away.

"Yes…" Malcolm said softly. He hardly recognized his own voice. Trip tilted his head, encouraging Malcolm to continue. "Yes, before I—I lose my fucking mind —" Malcolm choked off his words with a gasp as Trip wrapped his hand around his erect member and began stroking him. He leaned back on his bound hands and began thrusting up as best he could, seeking the sensation he had been craving. He heard a low sound, and realized it was his own voice, groaning. He lost himself completely in the pleasure engulfing his body. The intensity of the feeling increased until it all came together in a powerful orgasm, spasms shaking his body as Trip milked every last bit of pleasure out of him.

"Darlin' you put on quite a show yourself." he heard his lover say the fog. Then felt a gentle kiss touch his lips.

They sat quietly, lips lightly touching with soft, gentle kisses. Finally Malcolm opened his eyes and found his voice. "Trip —" But his lovely man was getting up, hitching his pants back up as he stood. He returned a moment later, armed with a laser cutter.

"Now hold still," ordered the engineer as he reached behind Malcolm.

"Wait—" said Malcolm. "Can you remove them without destroying them?"

"Hmmm. Pretty sure I can, although it might take a bit longer," answered Trip. He leaned back to look at Malcolm quizzically.

"Good. I'd like to add them to my collection," continued Malcolm. He was rewarded by Trip's eyebrows rising nearly to his hairline.

As Trip went back to work on the restraints, he asked quietly, "I'd like to see that collection sometime."

"Believe me, honey, you will."

***

Malcolm turned off the lights, then climbed wearily into the bed. Trip pulled him close, murmuring something intelligible. He wrapped one arm around Malcolm's chest, slipping the other under his head, his chest pressed against Malcolm's back. A moment later a leg draped over his, and a foot somehow entwined itself around Malcolm's ankle.

Malcolm smiled to himself and gently drifted off into a deep, quiet sleep.