Chapter 7: Malcolm's Return

Malcolm woke up with the strange feeling of being naked in bed. Except for a few times back on Enterprise and Buran, when a long day had ended in a bout of love making with Hoshi, this wasn't exactly a habit of his. As he opened his eyes, he could see the same state of undress was true for the woman, who accompanied him. And she was looking at him.

He couldn't remember having seen such softness in the Vulcan's eyes ever since she had visited him after the Tolaris trial. Thinking back to that time he realized that this was most likely the moment when his feelings for the Vulcan had finally started to grow from mere friendship to a much deeper connection and now she was lying next to him – stark naked, fixing him with that enigmatic look of hers.

"Are you dissatisfied with the absence of more substantial intimacy?" she asked dead-pan without as much as a 'good morning' and he nearly choked on his reply. "If you wish we can..."

"Don't be silly love," he interrupted her with a half-smile. "Twenty-four hours ago we were still dancing around each other. I think we have all the time in the world. And for once not waking up alone on that bloody divan is worth much more than a desperate shag in the skip. In fact it should be me apologizing. I didn't quite get around to returning the favor, did I?"

"There will be time in the future," she replied dryly. "I doubt I have convinced you in just one sitting."

"Oh, I don't know, your arguments were quite persuasive," he said with a chuckle. He was in a mischievous mood. "Although another demonstration at a later time might be quite helpful."

She only raised her eyebrow as they looked at each other. He hadn't seen that particular gesture much lately. T'Pol didn't 'giggle' a lot anymore. He turned serious.

"Will I fit back in, T'Pol? At home, I mean."

He saw her sit up. She didn't make the least effort to cover herself.

"Do not be irrational, Malcolm. We all miss you. I understand you will need to reconnect with Hoshi and Trip first, but all of us wish that you returned sooner rather than later."

He answered her reassurances with a kiss that was eagerly returned.

She could not remember having seen Malcolm in such high spirits. Considering that the divan had looked distinctly unused when she had started her work day, T'Pau surmised that he had spent the night elsewhere. Perhaps he had finally started reconnecting to his mates?

"Okay, Ms T'Pau, what do we have?" she heard him ask in a jovial manner. She looked at the PADD and went along with his playfulness. Maybe it would be a good idea to start with the less agreeable news while his mood was obviously still agreeable.

"Corazón de Bilbao, a local newspaper has inquired about the possibility of conducting an interview."

"Make an appointment, preferably before lunch-time next Tuesday."

She was startled for a moment. Up until now Malcolm had maintained a rather hostile attitude to any kind of media. Whatever had caused his absence from his chosen exile in the factory, it must have been a fairly important event. She grew a bit nervous when he fixed her with a firm look. It was not malicious, but firm.

"T'Pau, what is it? You're wondering what got into me this morning, don't you?"

"Your private life is none of my concern."

"The hell it is," he said with a smile. She still had to adapt to the fact that he was actually capable of showing this particular emotion. "We might be boss and assistant, but you are also a good friend who helped me try to overcome one of my worst fears, and not to forget you are the goddaughter of two of my mates. You are family."

She raised her eyebrow at that declaration.

"I said that out loud, didn't I?" she heard him ask rhetorically with another expression of amusement. It was the first time he had used the Vulcan term for the other members of their relationship. "So to give you the short version, without redundant details, I spent the night with T'Pol and I think I've finally started to reconnect with those that I love."

"A most welcome development," she answered for want of a better way to express her elation.

The katra of the late Eldest Mother had mostly been dormant in her mind, but lately the essence of the deceased matriarch had been making appearances in her mind during meditation, wishing to converse about her concern for Malcolm's well-being.

"And 'well connected' with my inner Vulcan as I am, I know you have more to say. So out with it!" he demanded, still in a rather jovial fashion.

"It would be lacking in respect..."

"Tell me, T'Pau!" he demanded, more forceful but still without malice.

"You have gained weight, Mr. Reed. We will soon have to order clothing of a different size."

To her surprise he was not upset, but started laughing.

"Well, Ms. T'Pau," he answered, ridiculing her formal address. "It is something I have noticed. This bloody office job is fattening me up. But I can hardly jog around the factory, can I?"

"While I think you could," she argued his dismissal. "We also have a fully equipped swimming pool. I was told that swimming is a most effective way to work out for humans."

"You know yourself that I'm still having problems entering water," he said, the light-hearted mood gone for a moment.

"I remember you were quite able to do so with my assistance. I am here, am I not?"

As quickly as it had gone, Malcolm seemed to regain his amused state of mind.

"Okay, grab your swimsuit and we'll go," he challenged her.

"I do not remember that we ever needed such apparel in the past."

He grew serious again.

"T'Pau, you have a boyfriend now. What would Trok think if he knew you go skinny-dipping with your boss? And besides; the swimming pool is not my private property. It is open to all employees. I'm sure the male contingent would appreciate the show."

She felt a slight blush creep up her cheeks.

"Trok and I harbor no secrets from each other. He has no problem with the practice. Hi exact words were 'Mr Reed will have enough headaches making his quad work. He does not need you on top of it'. As for the public access; the swimming pool is closed from 11am to 1pm and the key is hanging over there. The reflective windows also prevent viewing from outside. You are seeking excuses Malcolm. It is now 11:15."

With a heavy sigh she saw him push himself out of his chair.

"Remind me to curse the day when I hired you," he said, grabbing the key from the hook.

She knew his statement held no malice. Malcolm's humor was well hidden most of the time, but also rather unique when he allowed himself to show it.

They walked back into the main building. The hour of exercise had been refreshing, but if word would ever get round that the boss and his assistant went skinny dipping the rumors would be flying. How were the workers supposed to know that it was a well-practiced routine? And they certainly didn't need to know that their CEO was scared witless of water.

But for the moment he could distract himself with the work at hand.

"We'll halve those stairs in width and build a ramp on the left side," he instructed and saw that T'Pau was taking the appropriate notes on her PADD. She could be a pain in the arse, if for instance she out-logic'ed him infuriatingly, resulting in having to climb into a bloody swimming pool, but there was no denying that she was the best personal assistant he could have hoped for. She never forgot anything for starters. In fact he wondered why he even bothered having a computer.

"And we'll need directional beacons at every corridor junction and ID chips on every door. This building is just too big to program a wheelchair for its entire layout."

"We need Braille imprints on the elevator buttons, too," he heard her add.

"Good point."

"Mr. Reed?" she called for his attention, careful to use his official address outside his office. "While I commend your diligence. Is this not a rather excessive effort for hiring my father? The costs are substantial."

Malcolm sat down on the stairs and indicated her to do the same, next to him.

"T'Pau, we're not only going to hire Trip. I've had a bit of time to think after talking to Phlox and I came to realize that we have a real advantage over many other companies. With the wheelchairs and the Braille keyboards we have already made a name for ourselves in producing goods for the disabled. Phlox is doing ground-breaking research and we'll soon start an R&D project for bionic vision implants. Who better to ask for help than the people who will use our products when they go on sale?"

"What do you have in mind?" she asked.

"I've called the ministry of healthcare this morning. Did you know that there are eighty thousand people on this planet, who are not only blind and bound to a wheel chair, but also deaf on top of it? Speech control won't work for them."

He took her hand, turned the palm up and started tapping and swiping his fingers on it.

"Deaf-blind people communicate through a tactile method, if we can develop a generic control module for that; it could be used not only for our wheel chair, but also for other appliances."

"Therefore you plan to make this building more accessible as you plan to hire people with various disabilities."

"Yes. You see, even in our 'advanced society'," he said painting quotation marks in the air with his fingers. "Many places are still not accessible. I have to admit that I never gave a toss, but ever since ... well what happened to Trip, I find myself looking at buildings and I think: would Trip get in there without help?"

He froze when T'Pau planted a kiss on his cheek.

"I believe you are starting to heal, Mr. Reed."

With that she left him sitting on the stairs and walked off towards their office.

Malcolm was feeling a little uncomfortable when T'Pau wheeled Trip into his office and left the room again.

"You look good, mate," he said somewhat awkwardly, not really knowing how to start a conversation.

This was one of the rare occasions where Trip's 'new bluntness' would come in handy as his – he didn't even know what to call him – would surely have something to say. The reality of the 'First Quad' had finally started to sink in, if nothing else, spending the night with T'Pol two days ago had sort of sealed the deal. But that brought 'practical problems' with it. Was T'Pol a second spouse, Trip a boyfriend?

"So have you and T'Pol finally managed to... ," he ended the sentence with a very unsubtle gesture and Malcolm rolled his eyes.

"Need details?" he said, failing to hide his consternation at the rude inquiry, but he was surprised when Trip's face fell.

"There are some things that are left to you for the time being, Malcolm. Phlox will mess me up again in an hour and T'Pol told me the results are lookin' better than expected, but we both know I'm not as easily fixed as an engine."

"But you're also not as broken like the engine at Azati Prime," Malcolm said and stared at his companion's sudden grin.

"Well, in one regard T'Pol has made progress then," the engineer replied and to Malcolm's relief a small smile had returned to his haggard features.

Malcolm shook his head. It looked as if he wasn't only getting fat, his instincts were going too. Back in the days of yore he would have seen through Trip's ploy to get this admission out of him.

"I'm sorry Trip," he said. "I guess it must have hurt that I ran away."

"Don't fret about it, Mal. I had a head-start on all you guy's. It's not like it was a situation with a pre-defined solution. My situation is difficult enough, but on top of it we had to get our heads around the fact that we're now a relationship of four. Hoshi is a free spirit, she just runs with it, but the rest of us had to overcome some inhibitions.

"Want a coffee or something?" Malcolm asked.

"I'd be more in the mood for a beer. We haven't had one since forever, and hell I'm gonna puke anyway when Jhamel's done with me, so it's not gonna make a difference."

Malcolm smiled sadly and shook his head. Walking to the cupboard he took out two bottles of Trip's favorite brew. He grabbed a chair and sat down next to Trip.

"Trip, I want you to work for my company," Malcolm said after he had opened the bottle and put it in Trip's hand.

"As what exactly?"

"Do you know Lockheed-Martin?" Malcolm asked.

He saw Trip think for a moment.

"Military and space tech company, must have gone bust something like a century ago."

"That's them," Malcolm confirmed, clinking his bottle against Trip's after the American had held his out. "They had a group called 'skunk works', a department that designed some of the craziest projects at the time. I want to build up my own skunk works and I want you to be the head of it."

"It's a tempting offer. But I want to ask two conditions."

"Shoot," Malcolm said.

"Majority of people are wounded former Starfleet people. They have left a lot of good people unemployed after they discharged the lot of us and I want Hoshi on the team, too."