Work Text:
Trip grinned at Malcolm’s look of surprise as he emerged from his suite a full five minutes ahead of schedule, and before either Hoshi or T’Pol.
“Who are you and what have you done with Charles Tucker the Third?” Malcolm teased.
“Ha ha,” Trip said with a chuckle. “I can be on time when it’s something I want to be doing.”
Laughing as she came from her own suite a couple of doors away, Hoshi teased, “so you won’t be late for your own wedding then?”
Shaking his head as he laughed again, Trip threw his arm over her shoulders and said, “depends. Who am I marrying, and do I want to be their husband?”
“Well I hope the answer to the latter would be a rather emphatic ‘yes’ whenever the time comes,” Malcolm chuckled, giving T’Pol a nod of greeting as she joined them. “As for who they are, I would imagine you’d have a say in the selection process.”
“An arranged marriage would be strongly opposed, entirely on principle,” T’Pol said, arching a brow in obvious amusement. “That opinion has been clearly stated on any number of occasions.”
Laughing again, Trip said, “too right it has! If I ever get married I want to at least know the person first - and like them enough to want to spend several decades together!”
Arching a brow, Malcolm asked, “what if the marriage were arranged, and you knew and liked the person well enough?”
“Uhhhh… maybe?!” Trip said sceptically. Quickly changing the subject, he added, “Hoshi, you want to lead the way to dinner?”
Slipping out from under his arm, she linked one of hers with Trip’s and the other with Malcolm’s, then waited for Trip to link his other with T’Pol, who sighed indulgently at their shenanigans.
“Let’s go!” Hoshi said with a grin, leading them away.
Dinner was a comfortable restaurant that seemed determined to have something from every part of Asia on its menu, the eclectic variety presenting its own challenge due to the sheer abundance of options.
“How in the world am I meant to decide what I want when so many things look this good?” Trip said, pointing in turn to the Thai-style fried rice with chicken and cashew served in a half pineapple, Chinese-style salt and pepper quail, Korean bibimbap with beef and fried egg, and a Japanese vegetarian dish served with udon noodles. “I can’t possibly choose between all of these!”
“We could get the small serves of a whole lot of things,” Hoshi suggested. “We could share them between three of us for the things with meat, and between the four of us for anything vegetarian.”
Indicating a portion of text Trip had yet to reach in his especially thorough perusal of the menu, Malcolm said, “that’s listed as an option here at the bottom of the final page.”
Eyes lighting up, Trip nodded enthusiastically. “Let’s do that! T’Pol, do you want to order something little just for you, and then try some of whatever vegetarian things we end up getting, or would you rather get something just for yourself?”
“Their range of vegetarian dishes is rather more substantial than most restaurants in my experience, and I am having difficulty narrowing my selection to only one meal as a result. I would appreciate the opportunity to sample several dishes, if I may serve myself a small portion.”
“Alright!” Hoshi said, rubbing her hands together. “Let’s figure out what we’re all keen on trying!”
Almost two and a half hours later Trip set his napkin on the table with a sigh, then grinned at Hoshi. “Now I see why you wanted us to have dinner so early. That was… wow!”
Laughing, Hoshi nodded. “Just deciding what to have is a process, and then sharing a dozen dishes isn’t something you can rush through. At least not if you have any manners.”
“Indeed not,” T’Pol said, clearly impressed by how much food they’d eaten between them. “I appreciate the sample-sized servings having been an option. We could not have tried half so many things with full serves of every dish.”
“I need to come back for more of that pineapple fried rice another day,” Malcolm said, smiling contentedly. “That’s got to be a new favourite, no question.”
Trip chuckled and said, “why do you think I made a point of including it in the options I wanted to try? You flipped through the menu so quickly I’m pretty sure you missed it entirely.”
Smirking, Malcolm shook his head. “I hadn’t missed it at all, I simply read more quickly than you.”
“Uh huh,” Trip replied, nodding with a smirk of his own. “Suuuuuure you do Malcolm.”
“Now now boys, no squabbling before the next stage of the evening,” Hoshi teased, reaching to pat them both on the back of the hand. “You don’t want T’Pol and I to take you home without dessert, do you?”
Sighing, Malcolm asked, “what precisely is the next stage of the evening? I’ve still not been told, and I must admit it’s troubling me, not knowing.”
Arching a brow, T’Pol said, “the next portion of our evening is a surprise I am certain you will be pleased by. The wait for an answer shall not be much longer.”
“I don’t especially like surprises, as a general rule,” Malcolm said dubiously. “Though I trust your judgement more than Trip’s, so if you say it’s good, the odds are quite decent that it will be.”
“You liked being surprised with pineapple cake on your birthday,” Hoshi teased, giggling when Malcolm rolled his eyes at her. “You’ll like this one too, I promise.”
“You’re taking me to a church service?!” Malcolm said incredulously as they approached the beautifully paved area beside the cathedral, rows of seats set before a stage with a velvet curtain in deep blue. “And it’s not even inside the cathedral?!”
“Not exactly a church service, no,” Trip smirked, gesturing in the opposite direction from the bell tower.
Jaw dropping as his eyes widened, Malcolm asked, “are those real cannons?! Not fake monuments?”
Grinning, Hoshi nodded and said, “they’re one hundred percent real.”
“Ohhhhhhhhh, can we take a closer look?” Malcolm murmured, looking between his companions hopefully.
“We have tickets which permit such access, so yes, we may,” T’Pol said, sharing a smug look with both Trip and Hoshi at Malcolm’s obvious delight.
Ushered beyond the velvet rope moments later by a smiling attendant, Malcolm ran a hand over the metal of one cannon, murmuring, “hello, gorgeous. I’d love to see you in action, but I suppose this will have to do. They probably don’t even make the ammunition for you anymore.”
Trip cleared his throat and said, “you actually will get to see them in action a bit later on, you just won’t get to be the one firing.”
“A demonstration?” Malcolm asked, eyes wide once more. “But the seats are facing the wrong direction for that.”
“The seats are appropriately situated,” T’Pol said quietly. “All will become clear soon enough.”
Half an hour later they’d taken their seats in the front row, the remainder of the audience had each taken their own, and a middle aged man strode onto the stage, elegantly dressed in a crisp white shirt, black trousers, and black coat with gold piping.
“Good evening gentle folk, and welcome to the final performance of Tchaikovsky’s Eighteen-Twelve Overture. For those of you with appropriate ticketing, you may proceed to the cathedral at the end of the performance, with the opportunity to ring one of its many bells - or more than one, if you so wish. Any patrons with hearing protection which has yet to be applied should do so now, and it is advisable to hold small children who may become startled in the final third of the performance.”
His focus narrowing specifically to Malcolm and the others who’d admired the cannons, the master of ceremonies added, “those especially fond of artillery may also require some restraint from their companions, and I urge you to do so for their safety and enjoyment.”
Sounds of amusement went through the crowd, Trip and Hoshi each rested a hand on Malcolm’s knees and squeezed, and T’Pol gave him a knowing look while Malcolm himself chuckled gleefully.
“And so without any further ado, please welcome the Los Angeles Philharmonic orchestra, conducted by creative director Gustav Dudamel, and accompanied this evening by artillery of the Royal British Navy.”
Applauding politely at first, Malcolm’s hands came together so hard at the mention of the Royal Navy that it seemed he might actually hurt himself. With another gentle squeeze of his knee from Hoshi he applauded more normally once more, clearly awestruck by what he was about to witness.
Twenty minutes on Malcolm had tears streaming down his face, while both Hoshi and Trip had an arm around him, keeping him steady.
“Good surprise?” Trip asked hopefully, giving his shoulder a squeeze rather than his knee this time.
“The best,” Malcolm whispered, taking a handkerchief from a pocket of his trousers and drying his cheeks before blowing his nose. “How ever did you manage this?”
Chuckling, Trip said, “it’s been in the works for months. I was starting to get a little worried when shore leave got pushed back twice, but we made it back just in time.”
Looking at Hoshi and then T’Pol, Malcolm asked, “and were you both in on this from the start? His little accomplices?”
“I was,” Hoshi said with a grin. “Trip mentioned the possibility and I told him to stop being an idiot and book the damn tickets.”
“My phrasing differed somewhat, but held the same core sentiment,” T’Pol said, smirking at Trip.
Shrugging, Trip said, “in retrospect it really was just a question of how many tickets, rather than whether I should or not. You might have fought me on coming to this, but I knew you’d never say no to Hoshi’s desperate little pleading face, or someone as sensible as T’Pol joining in.”
Reaching across Malcolm to slap Trip lightly on the wrist, Hoshi said, “I do not have a desperate little pleading face!”
“You do, actually,” Malcolm said, smiling at their banter. “It’s been rather invaluable at times.”
“It has disarmed more than one alien being who might have otherwise become hostile,” T’Pol added. “It seems you have thus far been unaware of its effectiveness.”
Laughing as she shook her head, Hoshi said, “shall we go and ring some church bells, or do I need to break out the desperate little pleading face?”
Leaning into her side, Malcolm said, “to the bells!”
Having rung the bells and bid a fond farewell to the cannons, they made their way back towards their accommodation, chatting and enjoying each other’s company along the way. Hoshi’s desperate little pleading face was brought to bear when passing by a dessert bar, and the four stopped to purchase a treat each. Hoshi selected a decadent chocolate gelato served in a chocolate-coated waffle cone dipped in chocolate sprinkles, Trip chose the vanilla bean gelato with chopped pecans in a plain waffle cone, Malcolm zeroed in on the pineapple sorbet and opted for a large cup rather than a cone, and T’Pol eventually determined that a light lemon sorbet might suit her best - opting for a small cup with a spoon and ensuring they all had a supply of napkins before continuing their walk.
“That was a great way to end the night,” Hoshi said when she’d finished licking gelato from her lips.
“It was,” Malcolm agreed, having devoured his sorbet in record time. “Though I’m glad there was a decent gap between dinner and dessert.”
Nodding as she wiped her mouth with a napkin, T’Pol said, “that was very pleasant. Not excessively sweet.”
Bumping gently against her side, Trip said, “you’re sweet enough already, right?”
“Indeed,” T’Pol replied.
Reaching their accommodation…