Lady Blue

by Setcheti

Disclaimer:  Paramount owns them.  They don’t deserve them, but they own them just the same, more’s the pity.

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Malcolm Reed was starting to think the universe didn’t want him to ever enjoy a shore leave, anywhere.  He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair and fought the urge to stamp his foot like a child throwing a tantrum.  Malcolm wasn’t one for public displays of anything, though, and he had enough passersby staring surreptitiously at him already.  He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he thought it might have something to do with the young woman.

Thinking of the young woman made him look at her, and looking at her frustrated him.  He’d been strolling along through the bustling marketplace, just enjoying the fresh air and minding his own business, when a man with greenish-blue skin and white-gold hair had bumped into him.  Malcolm had at once gone on the defensive, suspecting a pickpocket, but to his surprise all the man had done was force his hand into a tingling grip with someone else’s and then run away.  Malcolm had started to give chase, but the man had already disappeared and he’d suddenly realized he had…another problem to deal with.

It had occurred to Malcolm that the chief armory officer and head of security of a Starfleet exploration vessel should not be having such difficulties getting one young woman to stop following him.  She wasn’t colored like her male companion had been, not exactly anyway; like a dull female bird to a bright-plumed male, she was a softer greenish blue, deeper and richer in hue than the powder-blue of an Andorian, and her hair was like old ivory.  She was a few inches smaller than he was and he guessed more than a few years younger, and he had yet to get her to respond to anything he said with speech or any gesture he could interpret.  And she wouldn’t leave!  She followed him as though tethered to him, and finally in desperation Malcolm had started making his way back to the landing pad where Enterprise’s shuttlepod was waiting in hopes that the universal translator could help him get through to her – or that he could just close the hatch and have the pilot take off.   

Malcolm had finally gotten just to the outskirts of the small city when he was infinitely relieved to spot Dr. Phlox heading for the landing pad from the opposite direction.  A brief idea of sparing himself embarrassment by trying to act nonchalant fluttered through his mind and was immediately dismissed; it had been two hours and he was getting desperate.  “Doctor, I think I may need your assistance.  This young woman…”

To Malcolm’s astonishment the Denobulan doctor took one look at the small blue woman standing beside him and his perpetual smile fell off.  He stepped closer, looking down at her, into her eyes…and then abruptly stepped back.  “Lieutenant, there would have been a male of her species with her before she was given to you.  Where did he go?”

“He slipped off into the crowd, back there at the market,” the armory officer told him, mystified by his urgent tone.  Given to him?  “And now she won’t leave…”

“No, she won’t; have you noticed her eye color, Lieutenant?”  But he didn’t wait for the armory officer to answer.  “Take her to the shuttle, tell whoever is piloting that Dr. Phlox told both of you to wait for him there.  I won’t be long.”  And without further explanation the doctor strode off in the direction of one of the security kiosks with the grimmest look on his face Malcolm had ever seen.

It was about fifteen minutes later that the Denobulan appeared on the shuttle, still looking very serious.  “Thank you for waiting,” he said, whether to Malcolm or the ensign in the pilot’s seat no one could be sure.  “Now we need to get back to the ship.”

The ensign fidgeted.  “Um, sir…”

“She’s coming with us,” Phlox told him.  “Don’t worry about it, Ensign, just get us back to the ship.  I will explain everything to the captain myself.”

The ensign obediently turned back to the controls, but Reed was still staring at the doctor.  “Doctor, what do you think you’re doing?  We can’t…”

“We can’t leave her here,” Phlox told him, rather more sharply than might have been expected.  “She has to come with us, Lieutenant – or, more specifically, with you.  Now please be quiet, I need to think.”

Malcolm was taken aback.  The normally even-tempered Denobulan was furious, that was plain to see, but why and at who Malcolm couldn’t begin to guess.  He’d asked after the young woman’s father and now he was insisting that they had to take her back to Enterprise…the armory officer decided to try again to get her to talk.  “Young woman…”  She just blinked at him.  A name, he needed a name, and perhaps he needed to reassure her – just because she didn’t look frightened to him didn’t mean she wasn’t.  He tentatively picked up her hand, feeling a slight tingle at the contact, and caught and held her eyes.

They were gray.  Actually, they were the same color and shade as…well, that had to be just a coincidence; perhaps that was the reason the man had left her with him.  “Can you tell me your name?”

She cocked her head at him, as though listening to something he couldn’t hear, and then she blinked again and uttered a musical, liquid sound that was very pleasant but didn’t in any way suggest a name to him.  Phlox stopped him in the act of reaching for the universal translator, though.  “Just make a name out of it, Lieutenant,” he advised quietly.  “The translator won’t help you here.  Whatever you come up with, that’s what she’ll answer to.”

Malcolm frowned at him, but he really didn’t have any better idea and he knew he couldn’t pronounce what she’d said – musical talent wasn’t something he possessed much of.  “Again, please?” he requested, and this time listened carefully to the flowing sound.  He mouthed over the parts he could reproduce for a moment and came up with, “Miana?  Shall I call you that, then?”

She cocked her head again and then nodded once – the first gesture Malcolm had seen her use that made sense to him.  “Very good,” Phlox told him, a bare echo of his smile returning.  “Miana is a lovely name, it fits her perfectly.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Malcolm mused.  He was still watching her, and he thought he could feel curiosity even though he couldn’t see it; he was also seeing the barest flickers of emotion in her gray eyes that he hadn’t noticed before.  “Do you think that man left her with me because our eyes are the same color, Doctor?”

The smile disappeared again.  “That isn’t what happened, Lieutenant.”  Phlox turned away, and Malcolm saw his jaw set.  “We will discuss the situation in detail once we are back aboard Enterprise.  This is not the place.”

Malcolm took that to mean Phlox didn’t want to discuss it in front of the avidly listening ensign and decided it was probably for the best; gossip traveled quickly on such a small ship, and the mere fact of the woman’s presence was going to generate enough wrangle to last for a while.  He returned his attention to Miana.  “You’re safe with us, you know, we aren’t going to hurt you.”

She nodded again, and Malcolm settled back with a barely audible sigh.  Somewhere out there, someone just didn’t want him to ever enjoy a normal shore leave.

Captain Archer met them in Sickbay, Phlox having requested his presence there almost before the shuttlepod had docked.  He didn’t look at all happy to see the small blue woman, and he scowled at Malcolm before addressing the doctor.  “Phlox, I didn’t authorize…”

“In this instance, there was no choice but to bring her along,” Phlox cut him off placidly.  He seemed to have regained his equilibrium.  “You may contact the planetary government if you like, but they will just tell you the same thing I am about to.”

Archer huffed and folded his arms across his chest.  “All right, then.  Explain.”

“I intend to – and to the lieutenant here as well.”  Phlox waved a hand at the small blue woman sitting on the side of one of his biobeds.  “This is Miana, Captain,” he said.  “She is an Argulian female.”

“Okay.”  The term plainly meant nothing to Archer.  “So why is she here?”

“She will be remaining here for the foreseeable future,” the doctor told him.  “She and Lieutenant Reed are bonded now, and they cannot be separated.”

“Bonded?!”  The exclamation came from both Reed and Archer, but Archer won by reason of rank and loudness.  The captain whirled on his armory officer.  “What have you done, Lieutenant?”

Malcolm’s mouth moved ineffectively for a moment, and then he turned a helpless look on Phlox.  “I told you, I was walking along and a man ran into me, shoved her hand into mine.  And then he ran away!  And now you say we’re…”

“For all intents and purposes, married,” Phlox told him.  “The hand-joining is how Argulian bonding is accomplished, and it is irreversible.  When a female of their species reaches maturity…”

“From Trip or even Mayweather I might have expected something like this,” Archer interrupted, still glaring at his shocked armory officer.  “But you’re security trained, Lieutenant, and you expect me to believe some man just shoved his daughter at you and that was it?  I want a better explanation than that!  I want to know…”

Phlox cleared his throat, effectively stopping the tirade.  “Lieutenant Reed is not at fault here, Captain,” he said firmly.  “He was tricked, ‘conned’ as humans would put it, into this situation, and as Argulian females are without the capacity for higher reasoning until they are bonded with a mate, neither he nor the young woman are to blame for what was done to them.  There was absolutely no way the lieutenant could have known what was happening, no more than Commander Tucker could have foreseen that putting his hand in a box of rocks aboard the Xyrillian ship would make him pregnant.”  The Denobulan gave Archer a very stern look.  “This vessel, as I understand its mission, is out here for the purpose of exploration, and the definition of exploration is the act of seeking out that which is unknown.  It is not your fault or the crew’s that sometimes the unknown…sees you coming, as it were.”

Archer, predictably, deflated.  “Okay, I see your point.  But that still doesn’t change the fact that my armory officer is now married to an alien – willingly or not – and that I have to do something about that.  She can’t stay on the ship, Starfleet…”

“Don’t tell them.”  Phlox said it like it should be ridiculously obvious.  “They can’t be separated and Lieutenant Reed is needed here, and due to the nature of the Argulian marriage bond it will not be long before Miana can be as useful on board as anyone could wish.  As a matter of fact, once her empathic abilities are fully functional she would prove invaluable to me as an assistant and I would be happy to train her to do exactly that.”  Reed stiffened, and the doctor laughed.  “Ah, there’s the reaction I’ve been waiting for.  No worries, Mr. Reed; three wives are plenty for me and I am not partial to that particular shade of blue.  Your wife will be quite safe under my care.”

The armory officer relaxed again, looking a little embarrassed.  “My apologies, Doctor.”

“None needed – your reaction merely proves that the bond ‘took’, so to speak.  And I am flattered that you would consider me competition.”  Phlox returned his attention to Archer.  “My suggestion, Captain, is that you give the lieutenant here the rest of the day off so he can get his wife settled in and that you conveniently forget to mention her existence in future reports.  I will, of course, make a record of my own which will absolve you from any responsibility in the matter if and when it does come out.”

Archer nodded slowly.  “I suppose that will have to do, then.”  He looked at Malcolm, saw how tense the younger man still was, and sighed.  “I apologize, Lieutenant, I overreacted to your situation before I had all the facts.  You didn’t deserve that.  Would you and your…wife join me for dinner tonight?”

“Certainly, sir.”  Malcolm came back to attention, but the unnatural stiffness was gone from his posture.  “And sir…you don’t need to apologize either.  You made a perfectly reasonable supposition and acted on it as regulations demand.”

“Like our good doctor just pointed out, regulations don’t always cut it out here,” was Archer’s reply.  “Doctor, do Argulians have any special dietary requirements I should be aware of before I talk to Chef?”

The doctor shook his head.  “She will eat whatever her husband eats, Captain.  It will be several weeks before Miana begins to have personal preferences, so for the time being hers will be identical to his.”

“Well, that makes it easy – pineapple upside-down cake it is.”  Archer’s smile had come back.  “I’ll see the two of you at 1900 hours, Lieutenant; until then you’re off duty.  If you have any trouble requisitioning anything you need from the ship’s stores, refer them to me and I’ll clear it.”

“Yes sir.  Thank you, sir.”

Phlox waited until the captain was well out of Sickbay before returning his full attention to the armory officer.  “Mr. Reed, before you go about your business I believe there are some other…issues regarding your marriage that we should discuss in private.  Shall we take this to my office?”

Malcolm blanched.  “Doctor, I…I don’t think…”

“Perhaps not, but I do.”  Phlox took his arm and led him into the office, closing the door behind them and then pushing Reed into a chair.  The doctor took his own seat opposite.  “Now, Mr. Reed – Malcolm – I believe we need to have a little chat about marital relations.”

Malcolm groaned and covered his face with his hands.  “I’d really rather not.”

“There, there, it’s not as bad as you think,” the doctor chuckled.  “You see, the sexual end of your relationship happens to be another thing you won’t have to worry about for at least several weeks, possibly longer.”

“I wasn’t…”

“I know you weren’t.”  Phlox leaned back in his chair.  “There is more to marital relations than sexual intercourse, however, and that is what we need to discuss.  Have you ever been involved in a long-term relationship, Malcolm?”

The question was asked gently, but the armory officer still winced.  “I’ve not had much opportunity to pursue…”

“No, then.”  The doctor looked sympathetic when Malcolm winced again.  “Actually it might be better this way – sharing your personal life with someone may be a jarring experience for you at first, but the lack of previous learned behavior should make things easier in the long run.  Now, probably the first thing we should discuss is your sleeping arrangements…”

“I suppose I shall have to move to larger quarters, we’ll need room for another bed,” Malcolm began.  He saw the doctor shake his head and stopped.  “No?”

“No,” Phlox said again, even more gently.  “Let’s go the roundabout way on this one, shall we?  Malcolm, I realize that you are the victim in this situation, but so is Miana.  As I told you earlier, the females of the Argulian species are empty vessels, as it were; her father paired her to you knowing that you would have no idea how to fill that vessel, knowing that bonding the two of you could very well be the death of her.” 

“So you said before.”  Malcolm’s gray eyes hardened.  “I’d bloody well like to get my hands on the bastard.”

“I have already taken care of that – I reported him to the authorities, and they will apprehend him before he has the chance to abandon another unwanted daughter,” the doctor assured him.  “What he did is considered tantamount to genocide under regular interspace law and attempted murder by the Argulians; the man’s fate will not be pretty.  But now back to his offspring.  Miana’s mind may be a blank slate at the moment, but she does have awareness all the same…and her connection with you will cause that to increase exponentially if you are prepared to do the work.”

The armory officer swallowed.  “And if I was not?”

Phlox’ gaze was very level.  “She would remain mostly as she is now, and she would eventually die.  If that is your choice, it would be perhaps kinder to kill her now.”

It wasn’t an accusation, but Malcolm was stung by it anyway.  “I didn’t say that!”

“No, you didn’t – I did.  I want you to understand just how serious this is.”  The doctor leaned forward.  “Your wife is going to need things from you, things you have perhaps never given to another human being in your life.  You are outwardly very reserved, even a bit distant; Miana will need closeness, affection.  You place a high personal priority on emotional reserve; she will require your emotions, all of them, in order for her own to develop.  You, Malcolm Reed, Starfleet lieutenant and chief armory officer of Enterprise, present a certain face, a mask as it were, to the world around you; due to her bond with you, Miana’s development will mirror not the mask but the private person the mask was constructed to protect.  For some time to come you will see publicly displayed in her every word and gesture the parts of yourself that you thought never to reveal openly to anyone, much less to the entire crew of Enterprise.”  He put his hand on the younger man’s knee.  “It will feel like a violation, but you will have to remember that this crew, your friends, have no more knowledge of Argulians than you did and have no idea what it is that they’re seeing.  You’ll see a mirror damning in its honesty, but they will see only a blossoming individual whose close affiliation with you has caused her to pick up some of your traits.”  His grip tightened.  “The next month will be very difficult for you and it is absolutely imperative that you ask for and accept assistance to get through it, for both of your sakes.  It could have absolutely devastating results were you to become frustrated and take that frustration out on your wife.”

Malcolm jerked like Phlox had shot him.  He looked to be somewhere between horrified and furious.  “You think I would abuse…”

“No, I do not – not intentionally.”  The doctor wasn’t giving him any ground.  “But if you allow yourself to be overwhelmed by the situation you now find yourself in, your mental and emotional reaction will have a much worse effect than mere physical assault would.  After all, bruises and broken bones do heal; the damage you could do to Miana with unresolved frustration and resentment would not.”

“So you’re saying that she’s…”  The armory officer slumped back in his chair.  “You’re saying that even my thoughts aren’t my own any more.”

“Your feelings, not your thoughts,” Phlox corrected.  “Argulian females are empaths, not telepaths.  And all I am saying is that your wife will be experiencing your feelings with you, which means that were you to become resentful of her you would quickly create an untenable dichotomy in her developing psyche – you would, in effect, be teaching her to resent her own existence.”

Malcolm nodded.  “All right, I understand now.  And I wouldn’t want to do that to her, or to anyone else, for that matter.  I may resent the fact that my life has been turned upside down in the space of a few hours, but I do realize that Miana is not to blame for that in the slightest.”  He sighed, rubbing a hand across his face.  “What else?”

“I believe that is enough for the present.”  Phlox stood up, and Malcolm quickly followed suit.  “If you need any assistance, do not hesitate to call me.”

The armory officer nodded again and slipped out of the office.  Phlox watched him collect his new wife and lead her out of Sickbay, and then after a moment’s thought the doctor activated his comm and called Engineering.  “Commander Tucker,” he said when the chief engineer answered his hail.  “I need your assistance with something…”      

Malcolm was standing in the center of his quarters, trying to decide where he should start rearranging his entire life, when the door chimed and a familiar voice called out, “Hey Mal!”

Malcolm opened the door, relieved to be given a reprieve, and let his friend in.  “Trip, I…”

“I know.”  Trip grinned at him, and gave the small blue woman on the other side of the room a little wave of greeting.  “Doc told me what happened, he thought you might need a hand gettin’ everything done before supper – which I’m apparently havin’ with you, although the captain didn’t bother to tell me exactly why we were all eatin’ with him when he invited me.”  He looked around Malcolm’s quarters with a frown.  “You know, we’re gonna have one hell of a time gettin’ an extra bed in here.”

The armory officer didn’t think he’d ever been so grateful to someone for stating the obvious in his entire life.  He sank down on the foot of his bed shaking his head.  “Phlox says that…isn’t an option.”

“Damn, that’s rough on you,” was his friend’s sincerely sympathetic reply.  Tucker pulled Malcolm’s desk chair around and sat on it backwards, blue eyes thoughtful and troubled.  “You gonna be able to handle this, Mal?”

“I really haven’t much choice, have I?” was the armory officer’s response.  “Like the good doctor said, Miana is as much a victim in this as I am – the only difference is that I have some choice in the matter.”

“No, you don’t,” Tucker disagreed.  “I know you, Malcolm Reed.  You don’t have any more choice than she did, and that’s how I know you’ll give this your all.  I just want you to know I’m here if you need me, you don’t have try to do this by yourself.”

“I appreciate that,” Malcolm whispered.  His gray eyes followed Miana – his wife – as she wandered around his previously private space.  She looked so alien, so out of place…  “I don’t even know where to begin, Trip.  What she needs from me, I’m simply not sure I have it to give.  I’ve not had any experience with something like this.”

Trip shrugged.  “I didn’t have any experience with bein’ pregnant.  I think it’s kind of a ‘learn as you go’ sort of thing – and you learn fast, Mal, real fast.”

“I know.”  Malcolm dropped his head into his hands.  “But you weren’t also responsible at that point for making sure your child developed into a functional, mentally healthy adult within a month or so, either.”

The first touch of the small hands on his tense shoulders was so light as to almost pass unnoticed, but then their grip tightened, released, and tightened again in a soothingly rhythmic pattern.  “Mal, don’t make no sudden moves,” Trip cautioned softly when he saw his friend stiffen.  “She’s empathic, right, and she can sense your feelin’s?  She’s tryin’ to help, let her keep on and let’s see what happens.”

Malcolm pushed aside his shock and did his best to take the engineer’s advice, and once he allowed himself to relax he realized that the small blue hands massaging his shoulders were actually quite good at what they were doing.  A mild rush of warm feeling flowed across his mind, the mental equivalent of a puppy wagging its tail in pleasure, and astonishment flooded his face.  “You’re right.  I can feel it.”

“And I can see it – on your face and hers,” Trip told him.  “She’s smilin’, Malcolm.”

Captain’s Personal Log

Dr. Phlox just got done giving me his report on the…situation.  He talked to Lieutenant Reed – he didn’t specifically tell me what ‘instructions’ they were going over, but I have a pretty good idea and it must have been a doozy of a conversation – and he says that the lieutenant is bearing up extremely well under the circumstances.  I guess I should be grateful he didn’t light into me again, but I don’t think I’m off the hook with our doctor just yet; he asked me who was coming to dinner and then invited himself to join the party.  I guess what I was thinking showed on my face pretty clearly because he smiled that really disturbing smile he has and told me I’d most likely be glad he was there, and then he left.  But if he’s not coming along to watch me, who is he watching?  Not Trip, he’s down helping Malcolm right now.  And T’Pol will most likely just raise an eyebrow at the whole thing and make a snide remark while she plots out her next report to the Vulcan High Command.  I wonder how Phlox plans to convince *her* not to say anything about Miana staying on board? <sigh>  Dinner tonight should prove to be…interesting.

The next few hours passed quickly.  A bit of rearranging and the addition of a few odds and ends of furniture made the armory officer’s small room convenient for double occupancy.  Trip had even installed a second terminal on a small extension desk placed right next to Malcolm’s.  “She’s gonna be learnin’ fast, be inconvenient for the two of you to share,” the engineer pointed out reasonably when his friend questioned the new addition.  “And it’s the little things that add up to big blowups.  Now, I already doubled your water ration and I told the quartermaster that we’d be down in a bit for some civvies and things for Miana.  He’s checkin’ his stock, but he said most likely it’s all too big so he’ll have to do some sewin’ – seemed kind of happy about that, I think maybe he’s gettin’ tired of doin’ nothin’ but uniforms.  And I told him what color she was to make sure he didn’t pick somethin’ that didn’t look good.”  He pulled the wide-eyed armory officer up out of his chair.  “He’s allotin’ you extra laundry privileges, too.”

Malcolm just stared at him, and Trip shook his head sympathetically.  “Bit much to take in all at once, huh?”

The armory officer shook himself.  “I just…how did you think of all that?”

Trip chuckled and patted his shoulder.  “I come from a big family, remember?  And when I was the oldest still at home it was my responsibility to take care of stuff like this if Mama and Daddy weren’t around.”  He smiled, happy at the memory.  “Was always someone comin’ in or out, and on Christmas and the Fourth of July we had ‘em sleepin’ everywhere except the dinin’ room table for a good solid week.”

“Good Lord.”  Malcolm looked horrified.  “How did you stand it for that long?  Not just the crowding but all of the rows on top of that?”

“Rows?  Oh, you mean fights?”  The engineer shrugged.  “Wasn’t never a problem.  I can only remember two times that someone got out of hand, once when I was a kid and the other one was my cousin Archie six years ago – and I guarantee you he won’t ever do it again.  Holidays are for bein’ together, havin’ a good time with the people you love…”  Malcolm was looking at him like he’d grown a second head, and Tucker frowned.  “Mal?  Don’t your people ever…”

“Not fight?  No, I can’t recall a family gathering that was…pleasant, except for one time when I was ill and quarantined in my room for the duration.  Contagious, you know,” he told Tucker matter-of-factly.  “Normally being on the sick list would not have been an acceptable excuse for not doing my duty.”

“Your duty?”  It was Trip’s turn to look horrified.  He pushed Malcolm back down onto the foot of the bed and sat down beside him, making eye contact and speaking slowly.  “All you family gatherin’s were like that, Mal?  All of them?”  The look on the armory officer’s face was answer enough, and Trip groaned.  His hand found its way back to Malcolm’s shoulder and stayed there.  “Boy have we got a lot of retrainin’ to do, a whole lot.”  He cocked a hopeful eyebrow.  “Birthdays?”

Malcolm shook his head.  “Pure hell – that was when I had to give an accounting of myself over the past year, prove what I’d learned and explain why I hadn’t met the goals set for me and all that.”  He smiled slightly at his friend.  “That surprise party all of you gave me, it truly was…a surprise.”

“Yeah, I think I understand that a little better now.”  The strong hand remained on Malcolm’s shoulder, though, and Trip’s blue eyes were serious and sincere as they stayed locked on the armory officer’s gray ones.  “I’ll teach you, Mal.  It’ll be okay, I’ll teach you…what it’s supposed to be like.”

“Start a new Reed family tradition, shall we?”  Malcolm was trying to keep his tone light, but the result came out strained and shaking in spite of his efforts.  He dropped his face into his hands.  “Oh Trip, I don’t think I can do this.”

“Sure you can.”  The engineer’s voice was confident and soothing, and the arm that wrapped around Malcolm’s shoulders imparted a promise of strength to be shared.  “Like I said before, ain’t no one I know that learns faster than you.  This is just a different kind of learnin’ than you might have expected from this adventure.”

“No, I certainly never anticipated becoming married.”  Malcolm didn’t raise his head.  “Much less being forced into it…just because some bloody bastard shoved his daughter’s hand into mine in the middle of the bloody street on a bloody alien planet.  And I certainly never expected to have Dr. Phlox drag me into his office to discuss the birds and the bees.”  At Trip’s little gasp he did look up.  “He told me it wasn’t something I would have to worry about for some time to come, thank goodness.”

“Thank goodness,”  Trip echoed.  He looked across the room to where Miana was sitting at the desk and shook his head.  “Aw that’s just sick even to think about.  She’s like a little kid right now.”

“Some men wouldn’t care, you know that as well as I do.”  Malcolm looked as well and then dropped his head again.  “I am thankful for that, anyway.  I think I’d have thrown myself out the nearest airlock if I’d been expected to…perform in the traditional wedding-night manner.”

“Think I would have too.  Damn, that is somethin’ to be thankful for, all right.”  Trip’s usual cheerful nature reasserted itself.  “That, and Chef’s pineapple upside-down cake.”

Malcolm stared at him…and then he laughed.  The weight of his new responsibility didn’t fall off, but it lightened enough to be bearable.  “There is that, I suppose.” 

This story is not finished