Charles ‘Trip’ Tucker had had enough. Between problems with the ship, Enterprise, and that damned Vulcan, T’Pol, his day had gone from bad to worse. All he wanted was to slip silently away from the crew and sink into his bunk, and woe to any who tried to stop him. As we wove his way through the maze of decks, his mind drifted to Natalie, from Pensacola, and he groaned. What a disaster. Her latest letter had been full of reproach and he wasn’t sure what do about it.
He’d known that leaving on a mission like this would be foolhardy in terms of their relationship, but he hadn’t expected her to be quite so vocal in her disapprovals. Her recent letters had all been critical, and the last had come at a time when he really hadn’t been in the mood to listen to her complaints. His musings had finally led him to his quarters, and he let himself inside. Peace at last.
In the silence that surrounded him, he began to strip out of his eggplant uniform. Damn Starfleet for sending him on this mission and damn Natalie for being so unpleasant about it! And damn the Enterprise for having him up at the crack of dawn to fix her! And damn the Vulcan for being so controlled and proper all the time! With each vehement thought, another article of clothing was flung against the wall. His uncharacteristic bile was nothing more than a lack of sleep and an empty stomach, and he knew it. Unable to face the idea of dinner with the Captain and T’Pol, he’d slunk away before it began. But at that precise moment, he didn’t want to reason his foul mood away with logic. In the morning, he’d go back to being himself, happy-go-lucky Trip Tucker, cheerful and polite. For tonight, he’d allow himself to wallow in his bad temper and perhaps throw something more than his clothing against the wall.
Standing in the center of his quarters nude, he tried to suppress a small chuckle, but it escaped his lips anyway. Look at him, naked as a babe and throwing his things against the wall like a two-year-old having a temper tantrum! He shook his head, alternately disgusted and amused, and slipped into his bed, pulling the covers over himself. He’d feel better in the morning, he knew, and slipped into sleep.
A knock on the door startled him out of his slumber not fifteen minutes later. Groggily dragging himself out of bed, he stumbled to the door and opened it a small crack to see who dared wake him. It was Hoshi.
The sight of her there, a look of curiosity on her face, was enough to baffle him into opening the door wider. Big mistake! he realized a second later as she gasped and looked away, a faint blush tingeing her cheeks.
“I’ll come back another time, Commander,” Hoshi murmured quickly, preparing to leave.
“No, it’s alright,” Trip closed the door a bit more and did a small dancing side-step to keep the most important parts of his nudity behind the door. “Just let me - ah - just let me throw something on and I’ll be right with you.” Without waiting to see if she’d comply, he snapped the door closed and ducked into the scattered clothing that covered his floor. Fully clothed, he opened the door again and motioned for the still-waiting woman to enter.
“I’m sorry to wake you, Commander, but I overheard the Captain telling Malcolm that you hadn’t shown up for dinner and I volunteered to make sure that you weren’t ill. The Captain told me to have to see Phlox if you were.”
“No, I’m not ill, Ensign, but don’t you think you could call me Trip, given that you’ve seen the full Monty, as the expression goes?” Trip said, good-naturedly, offering her a place to sit on the unmade bed. He spotted the blush she ducked to hide and felt like a heel.
“I’m sorry, Hoshi, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. My momma would have my hide for it. A Southern gentleman never embarrasses a lady, she was right fond of saying.”
“It’s alright, Trip. I know you didn’t mean it; it’s just your way,” she responded rather coolly, looking away.
“Now what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, somewhat indignantly.
“Nothing, it’s just that you’re like that with every woman on board, even T’Pol, and I should know by now that you didn’t mean anything by it,” Hoshi explained, refusing to meet his eyes. She stood before he could respond, and continued. “If you’re not sick, Commander, then I don’t need to escort you to the infirmary and I’ll be going now.” Without another word she sped from the room and closed the door behind her with a soft click.
Trip stared at the spot she’d vacated for a full two minutes before sighing to himself and climbing, fully dressed, back under the covers. His last thought before drifting back into a much-needed sleep was that it was certainly the last time he’d ever sleep in the nude.
Five days later found Trip in the infirmary, talking to Phlox. He’d been poked and prodded, and the good doctor could find nothing wrong with him.
“Then why can’t I eat?” Trip persisted. “There must be something wrong with me!”
“I’m sorry, Commander Tucker, there is nothing physically ailing you,” Phlox repeated. “Perhaps you’re just working yourself a bit too hard?”
“I’ve always worked hard, and it’s never done anything except make me hungrier!” Trip insisted.
“There is nothing I can do to help you, Commander. You’ll have to wait it out. Almost all appetite abnormalities are caused by mental disruptions. Once you figure out what the cause is, you can take care of it,” Phlox smiled cheerfully.
“Thanks, doc,” Trip replied, sounding as ungrateful as possible. He left the infirmary and reported to Engineering, where his crew had been working to fix a few problems that kept cropping up. There was a recurring circuitry issue that seemed to have been sorted out, finally, and Trip was free to leave. He got into the elevator and felt himself hit something soft. A squeal of outrage brought his attention to the yielding surface of the button he was pushing. Not a button, he realized in horror, but the lush backside of one Hoshi Sato.
“Commander Tucker!” she screeched., blushing furiously and turning to look at him in horror.
“Hoshi, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just wasn’t paying attention,” Trip finished lamely, waiting for the verbal assault he was sure would come.
“Once again, Commander, I’m sure you didn’t mean it, but out of curiosity, just whose rear did you think you were groping?” she demanded hotly, the now-familiar blush staining her cheeks and her eyes flashing with indignation and something that Trip couldn’t quite identify.
“I wasn’t looking and thought that I was pressing a button!” he argued, furious that the woman was insulting him again. “And what is that supposed to mean, Ensign? Do you think I go around groping everyone that comes into my path?”
“Commander, you are an indiscriminate flirt, and nothing you do would surprise me. I’m quite aware that you don’t think of me that way, so you can stop trying to charm me and leave me alone!” The elevator opened and she hurried out, without a backward glance, but Trip was almost certain he’d heard tears in her voice.
He took off after her, but he was a little unfamiliar with this deck, and she eluded him. Determining that he would find her after dinner and find out what her problem was, he made his way back to the elevator. He looked around carefully before pressing the correct button and settled against the wall. The door had just opened when something she said came back to him. I’m quite aware you don’t think of me that way, she’d said, and suddenly, Trip felt like the biggest ass alive.
His careful assurances that he hadn’t meant anything by his comments the other night had hurt her. She had to have heard the crew comparing her to T’Pol, saying that she had no emotion. Gossips were very rarely discreet. He was a jerk. In trying to comfort her, he’d hurt her. Sighing, he pushed the button that would take him to the Bridge. If he had to make a fool of himself, so be it.
His unusual presence on the Bridge raised a few eyebrows, most notably the Captain’s, but Trip walked calmly to Hoshi’s station and bent down so that his words wouldn’t be heard.
“May I speak to you privately for a moment, Ensign?” he whispered. His only response was a glare of contempt, and it struck him that the irritating woman had lovely eyes. “Please, Hoshi, I need to speak to you for a minute. Then you can go back to hating my guts.” She shook her head, but Trip knew he’d struck a nerve, for a glitter of a tear was forming in the corner of her eye. Lord, but she was pretty. The irreverent thought infuriated him.
“Don’t make me pull rank, Ensign,” he threatened, appalled at the hurt he saw in her eyes. She nodded to show she understood the order and looked questioningly at Captain Archer, who had come to see what was wrong.
“Go ahead, Hoshi, but hurry back.” The Captain’s voice held a hint of humor, and Hoshi glared at him before stalking from the room. “Mind you don’t keep her too long , Trip.”
Nodding once, he followed the infuriating woman out the door , and strode to where she waited for him, her arms crossed angrily across her chest.
“How dare you pull me off of my assignment like that you uncultured swine!” she demanded of him as he opened his mouth to tender an apology.
“Listen here, sweetheart, I was just trying to apologize to you!” he practically shouted, momentarily forgetting his intention to make peace with her. He lowered his voice. “I don’t know where you got the idea that I’m some womanizing jerk, but I have nothing but respect for the women on this crew! I might tease a bit, but I don’t mean any disrespect by it.”
“Save your apologies, Commander! I wouldn’t have you on a silver platter!” Hoshi shot at him, and suddenly, all Trip could think of was how soft her lips looked. He just had to know if they felt that soft.
“Oh, yeah? Well, perhaps you ought to know what you’re giving up before you dismiss it out of hand like that!” With no further warning, Trip pulled her to him tightly and pressed his lips to hers. He nearly groaned at the feel of her next to him. He did when she opened her mouth to allow him access. Or perhaps he whimpered, it had been a very long time, after all. He could have stayed there indefinitely, devouring the frustrating woman from the mouth down if it weren’t for the sound of someone clearing their throat nearby.
Trip pulled away quickly and opened his eyes to find his friend and Captain, Jonathan Archer, looking highly amused.
“Trip, would you mind not assaulting my Communications Officer while she’s on duty?” Jonathan’s voice was mild, but the censure was there, and Trip realized that he was lucky that the Captain was the one who’d come across them, and not someone who was likely to take offence.
“Sorry, sir,” he muttered, snapping a lazy mock-salute.
“By your leave, Captain?” Hoshi asked quietly, clearly very embarrassed.
“Of course, Hoshi, you can go back to your station.” Jonathan smiled at her as she left and then turned to Trip, shaking his head. “Bad idea, buddy.” Without giving Trip a chance to answer, he left.
Trip, however, was too elated to care much what Jonathan thought. He went back to his quarters to prepare a seductive scene. He nearly made it when he was stopped.
“Mail, Commander,” a young ensign said, handing him his letter. Trip read the cover and stopped in his tracks: Natalie.
He sighed loudly and moved into his cabin to view his letter - and felt nothing but relief. She was married. He was free. He rushed to the mess hall, only to find that Hoshi was refusing to speak to him. Lieutenant Reed looked as baffled as he was. Exasperated, he went back to his cabin and went to sleep.
A knock startled him awake long before his usual hour. Making sure he was decently covered, he stumbled to the door and peeked through it. There stood Hoshi, a covered dish in hand.
“Pancakes?” she asked, whipping the cover off and giving him a beguiling smile.
“Absolutely,” he said. Unsure of whom to thank for this unlooked-for blessing, he pulled her into the cabin, setting the tray of food on a table. “But much, much later.” The only response was a giggle.
