//"You're senior officers. You're supposed to be setting an example for the rest of the crew!"//

//"You're both restricted to quarters until further notice. Dismissed."//

Those words echoed through Trip's head as he rolled around and came to rest half over the slender form of his lover and long-time partner. Warm skin met warm skin and he smiled at the recollection of what had happened in these four walls in the last hours. Setting an example for the rest of the crew.

Uh-huh.

Not!

At least not right now.

Definitely not right now!

He grinned.

"What have I missed?" a British accented voice asked lazily.

Trip looked at his lover, taking in the satisfied expression in the gray eyes, the complete ease in the normally so controlled features. Malcolm Reed was such a different person when they were off duty and alone. He would never have suspected this person to be lurking behind the walls of uptight British protocol. Well, mostly uptight. Sometimes, the temper peeked through ever so briefly.

"Just rememb'rin' somethin' the Cap'n said. About settin' an example for the rest of the crew," Tucker explained, grin widening.

"Oh. Yes. That." Malcolm's smile grew.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Are we?"

The Armory Officer looked thoughtful for a moment. "Depends."

"Oh? On what?"

"Well, Dr. Phlox would probably find it highly fascinating and highly educational. We'd give him an example of human male copulation. He wanted to observe us for a while now."

Trip grimaced. "Very clinical, Mal. Ouch."

Reed chuckled. "I'd call it good, hot, loving sex, but that's just me."

Trip kissed him. "Kinda runs along with my definition."

"T'Pol would find it illogical and an example for human behavior in general, I suppose."

"Yep."

"I guess Travis would win another bet," Malcolm chuckled. Tucker rested his chin on his clasped hands. "Yep, we're the perfect bad example. We encourage gambling. Huh."

The Armory Officer smiled and ran a finger over Trip's nose to the tip.

"I also remember Captain Archer telling us that we are restricted to quarters."

"Well…we're here. In my quarters. Door's closed…" Trip looked pleased.

"We fulfilled his orders."

Malcolm raised his eyebrows. "I think he said quarters and meant plural."

"I heard a singular."

"Must be the Yankee gene."

"Yankee gene?"

"Yes."

"And I've got it?"

"No doubt about it."

"Is it infectious?"

"Only within the species."

Trip grinned. "Yankee species?"

"Yes."

"And there's the British gene, I suppose?"

Malcolm chuckled. "Indeed."

"For Brits only?"

"Exclusively."

"What's it do?"

"I understand orders as they are meant to be understood."

Trip frowned thoughtfully. "Ah. Hm. So your interpretation of the Cap'n's orders would have been…the two of us in our own quarters…doing what? Playing Mahjongg?" he teased.

"Something like that, yes."

"I like my version better," Tucker announced, nipping at the finger outlining his lips.

"I figured."

"My version is much more fun," Trip said huskily, kissing the skin up to one nipple.

"Really?"

"Uh-huh."

The nipple was licked and suckled, making Malcolm twitch.

"I think I'm starting to see your point," the lieutenant murmured.

"Yep. You bein' all grown up'n able t'decide on your lonesome.""

Malcolm chuckled, remembering those words of the captain, too. "Even if you were responsible for getting us into this situation in the first place."

Trip lifted his head and the sparkling blue eyes held an expression of amusement. "My fault?"

"Completely."

"Did I mention 'all grown up'? You coulda said no."

"How could I resist those baby blues?" Malcolm murmured and pulled his lover up, kissing him soundly.

"Wrapped around my lil' finger, I gotcha."

"Fully. Completely. Undoubtedly." Each word was punctuated by a kiss.

"It's not as if the punishment is really all that bad, hm?"

"It's quite pleasurable indeed."

The kiss was continued, tongues dancing lazily with each other, and Malcolm carded his fingers into the blond hair, massaging lightly.

"How long do think Captain Archer will have us…restricted?" Reed whispered throatily as they parted.

"Hm, knowing him, he wants to let us…stew a bit." Trip's eyes twinkled.

"He does, doesn't he? I have to agree. We should be restricted for a while," the Brit murmured and attacked his lover's throat. Trip let his eyes slide shut, enjoying the sensuous treatment of the vulnerable skin. He shivered as Malcolm hit a sensitive spot.

"At least for twenty-four hours," he gasped. "Think about what we did wrong."

"What did we do wrong?"

Another nibble. Trip shivered again. "Dunno. Forgot. Need a reminder."

"Ah, the Yankee gene again. Memory goes early on."

Malcolm let his fingers glide up the warm skin, skimming over the ribs and then sliding down to the lower back.

"You know how it is," Tucker agreed, shifting a little to settle more firmly over his lover. "You need to repeat things several times for this Yank to get it."

"Is that so?" Malcolm's eyes twinkled mischievously.

"Uh-huh."

"Trip Tucker, you are a senior officer. Set an example for the crew."

"I am. I'm setting an example. Tells them there's no harm in askin' for a reminder if you haven't understood it the first time." Tucker waggled his eyebrows. Malcolm laughed and Trip found it the most wonderful sound. He claimed another kiss, then began to kiss his way down the slender body he knew so well. "How about I start refreshin' my memory now?" he whispered against the warm skin.

"A wonderful idea," was the breathy reply.

***

Jonathan Archer rubbed a hand over his face and shook his head. Yes, those had been his orders.

Yes, he had insisted on restricting his Armory Officer as well as his Chief Engineer to quarters.

He had never specified who should go into whose quarters, so the two men had followed their own interpretation of things.

Quarters. Two men. One room.

Right.

It had supposed to have been a punishment, but Archer knew he hadn't achieved much by it. Even if both men had stayed separate, Malcolm liked to read and Trip had told him just a few days prior to the whole mess with the automated station that he had a lot of engineering reports to catch up to. Not to mention private letters from home.

Next time, make them scrub plasma conduits, a nasty voice told him. Uh-huh. Another confined space, so to speak. Hot, too.

Right.

He smiled to himself.

It wasn't as if he begrudged his two officers the time to themselves. They had been through a lot lately. Malcolm had been beaten up by Suliban and had had a spike rammed through his leg. Trip had suffered with him every step of the way, which meant emotional involvement to the hilt. Yes, they needed some time off.

Archer chuckled and rose from his desk. It was time he went to bed as well. Stretching, he left the ready room and nodded at the late shift bridge crew. Hoshi was among them, giving him a smile. Then he was in the turbo lift and on his way to his own quarters.