Missing Scene, 1.18 "Rogue Planet"

by The Grrrl

Title: Missing Scene, 1.18 "Rogue Planet"

Author: The Grrrl

Author's email: thegrrrl2002@yahoo.com

Author's URL: http://www.geocities.com/coffeeslash/thegrrrl/

Archive: Ask first.

Fandom: Star Trek Enterprise

Pairing: Tucker/Reed

Rating: PG

Summary: No smut, just a quick little bit of silliness.

Disclaimer: These boys ain't mine, I just play with them.

Malcolm sat on his sleeping bag, took his jacket, then his boots off. As he set them aside he was pushed flat on his back, and a heavy weight pressed against him.

"Trip—"

"Just wanted to get close to you, darlin'," his lover answered softly. Trip stretched out with a sigh, draping his body on top of Malcolm's. "What, with the the campfire, the sky full of stars, it's all so romantic." He began nuzzling Malcolm.

"Trip, they can probably see right into this tent with those high tech goggles," Malcolm chided, but he wrapped his arms around the man. Trip smelled of sweat and smoke, a combination Malcolm suddenly found enchanting.

"Well, if they wanna look, maybe should give them something interesting to see," said Trip. He pushed himself up so that he was straddling Malcolm, and began unzipping the uniform of the man beneath him.

Malcolm grabbed Trip's hand to still it. "And what are we going to do when the Captain comes in?" asked Malcolm. "Tell him I'm earning a new merit badge?"

Trip paused. "Boy, would I just love to see the look on his face."

Malcolm tried not to laugh but was unsuccessful. The thought actually was tempting. He must be losing his mind. He pulled Trip back down onto his body, and kissed him, soundly.

When they stopped Trip murmured into his ear "Just be careful, OK? Those guys just seem a little too eager to shoot something."

"I'll be sure to stay out of their way."

"I just don't get this whole hunting thing. What's the sport in killing some cute little forest creature?"

"Beats me," answered Malcolm. "I only shoot at sentient primates."

"Oh, now that makes me feel a whole lot better."

"And," Malcolm continued, "when you think about it, wouldn't just using a grenade be a lot easier? You could take out a lot more of them at once that way, instead of running around trying to shoot one as it runs away from you."

Trip was silent for a moment. "You are kidding, aren't you?"

***

About fifty yards away, T'Pol laid on her back, listening to the quiet conversation and laughter coming from the other Starfleet tent, every word coming through as clear as a bell.

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