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The mess hall was quiet. It was the night-shift, which meant the room was usually deserted, which was precisely the reason Malcolm was here. He knew he could watch the stars outside the window without having to bother with anyone asking him why he wasn’t sleeping, or worse, if he was okay. On nights like this, he wished he had a window in his quarters, where it was safer. Like the window in Trip’s quarters.
He sighed, and rubbed his hand across his eyes fiercely, before looking out the window again. The entire point of watching the stars was to try and prevent himself from thinking, and most especially, from thinking about Trip. The problem was the sheer persistence with which Trip intruded on his thoughts, in much the same way the blonde engineer had intruded on his life. Forced his way in, and then just slipped out when Malcolm wasn’t looking, was providing a respectful distance. Maybe, was just giving him the opportunity. He didn’t know, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t know if he could, or should, do anything about, or even why he had a doubt about the matter.
Their friendship had been going along rather well, at least he thought so, up until one fight that had created what should have been a temporary rift. He had tried, honestly tried, to open up and let Trip in, and he had been as successful as he could be. There were parts of himself that were just never going to be open to anyone else, that were just for himself. It was no one’s fault, it was just the way he was, though he knew that it made friendship with him somewhat more difficult. Except that it really shouldn’t. After all, it wasn’t as though there were anything more than friendship, or the intention for more, and friendship did not automatically grant someone such privileges.
At least, there weren’t any intentions that he knew of.
His entire body froze. It wasn’t a line of thought he had explored before, and he wasn’t entirely certain that he wanted to now, though he knew he would. Trip had always been open, incredibly open, to relationships with the women they met. Well, flings with the women they met, in any case. As much as Malcolm wouldn’t have minded the release of casual sex, and as much as he talked big, it really wasn’t something he was much interested in anymore. He was fairly certain Trip had picked up on that, despite being a co-participant in the big talk.
That couldn’t have been a part of the change, could it? Trip had never seemed to want something casual with Malcolm, and he’d never really been good at hiding what he wanted. Maybe that was the problem, full circle and back to wanting something more than casual, and more than Malcolm had been giving. He could give all that he could, but it was going to be less than Trip needed if he was looking for something more between them, and perhaps that had been unforgivable. Perhaps Trip had simply gotten tired of trying.
He sighed, rubbing his hand across his eyes again. This was ridiculous. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to Trip about any of this directly, but it was becoming inconvenient, distracting his thoughts even more than it disrupted his sleep. He had to get it dealt with, even if he didn’t want to. Standing up, he left the mess hall and went straight to Trip’s quarters, ringing the bell. It was only when Trip answered, without a shirt and wearing only pyjama bottoms, that he remembered what time it was.
“Malcolm, what are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise the time, I just—” and then he saw, behind Trip and sitting on the bed, T’Pol. She was wearing what he recognised from his time possessed as her bed clothes, and she was in Trip’s quarters in the middle of the night, and he was half-dressed. “I’m sorry,” he repeated dully. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry.” And then he left, fled. He was vaguely aware of Trip looking back, of Trip realising he’d seen T’Pol, but he was already at the lift by the time he’d heard the engineer call his name, and then he was safely on it.
He made it back to his own quarters without seeing anyone else, and locked the door behind him. He was a fool. Either his earlier conjectures were most definitely wrong, or it was simply too late, and what did it matter which? He’d hidden himself away, inaccessible, for so long that he may as well as not been there at all. And it was a bitter revelation, as he hadn’t realised until now that he wanted to be. He hadn’t realised that while some things were kept only for himself, others were simply being saved for the right person. He hadn’t actively realised, while trying to get used to the idea of even a true friendship, that he wanted that person to be Trip. He was too used to keeping people away, too mired in the habit, that he hadn’t been able to stop. Not enough, and now Trip was with T’Pol, which was a double kick in the teeth, as he’d openly shared his admiration of her with Trip. One of the very few things he had volunteered, and this was the result? What was the point in it then? No, it was more than enough reason not to care, to keep him, to keep them all, away. Maybe it was for the best that the friendship was already failing. This way it was easier to simply let it go, where it would have been harder to get it back.
The chimes rang, and he thought about not answering, but Trip, for who else could it be, probably knew that he was in there, had the access codes, and wasn’t afraid to use them. Malcolm answered the door, and Trip slipped inside, not even waiting for an invitation.
“It wasn’t what you think.”
“Trip, you hardly need to give me an explanation.”
“Yes, I do, because I know what you’re thinking and it’s not.”
“Trip, it’s late.”
“I am not having sex with T’Pol. I am not having a romantic relationship with her either.”
“Of course, because it’s commonplace for you to spend time with crewmates while you’re both in your bed clothes.” He should have just accepted what he was being told and made Trip leave. It didn’t matter if he believed or not, but it was too late for that now.
“It’s Dr. Phlox’s orders.”
“I’m surprised he wasn’t there to watch.”
“Vulcan Neuropressure. To help me sleep.”
And it was just plausible enough. He couldn’t do it anymore, wasn’t practiced in it. “Then you should probably go reap the benefits. Goodnight, Trip.”
“Damn it, Malcolm, what the hell is wrong with you?”
“With me?”
“Yes, with you. You just shut down sometimes, like there, wall yourself off. Do you have any idea how sick I get of trying to work through that?”
Malcolm slumped against the wall. “I really have no way of preventing it, no more than you seem to have of accepting it. I think it would be best if you left now.”
He didn’t move, just watched him with frustration that finally melted away to some sort of frightening resignation. “Malcolm, why did you come to my quarters tonight?”
“It doesn’t matter now.”
“Why did you come?”
“I thought,” he sighed and shook his head. “I thought our friendship was failing, but I suppose it’s already failed, hasn’t it?”
“You wanted to save it?”
“Save it, define it, I thought— But again, it doesn’t matter now.”
“It matters even more now.” Trip walked across the cabin and stood directly in front of Malcolm, who fought down the urge to hit the button and open the door. “What did you need defined, Malcolm?”
The wisest course of action would be to say nothing, but he was still thinking of those parts of himself he was saving for another, and if he ever wanted to share them, this would probably be his last change. “What you want of me,” he answered, deliberately looking towards his hand on the door panel, and not at Trip. “Why you suddenly weren’t there, never came back. When I became unimportant.”
“Never.” The answer was forceful, but Malcolm still wouldn’t look at him. “I just… That fight, in the hallway, over my sister,” Malcolm winced but Trip kept going, “I know I hurt you. I knew it, but I was still angry, and I couldn’t apologise, so I just, stayed away. You never became unimportant, I just, I realised that you were too important.”
“Trip—”
“No, I’m going to say this, and you’re going to listen before you kick me out. I knew I wanted to be your friend, especially after the shuttlepod. I knew I was willing to work at it, and I knew I was going to have to ’cause you’re a damn secretive son of a bitch. I just hadn’t realised why I wanted to so much. That I wanted you so much. Not until I was the one hiding. So I kept avoiding you, and figured there was no point in trying in the first place, ’cause you didn’t even seem to notice that I was gone.”
“I noticed.”
“Well I know that now.” He sighed. “Malcolm,” his hand covered the one Malcolm still had on the door panel, “what do you want of me?”
He couldn’t answer that, he just “I can’t. I’ll never be able to share everything, and not what you’ll need. It’s not your fault.”
“I’ll accept my fate if you just share, more.”
Malcolm almost smiled, still looking at their hands. “Things just for you?”
“Exactly. I don’t need much.”
“And I don’t do casual sex anymore.”
“Malcolm, nothing about you is casual. That’s not what I’m looking for.”
“What are you looking for then?”
“For you.”
Malcolm did smile then, just a little, finally looking at Trip. “Well all right then.”