TITLE: Force of Habit

AUTHOR: Perpetual Motion

WEBPAGE: http://www.geocities.com/iwannabedonna

FANDOM: Enterprise

PAIRING: Archer/Reed

CATEGORY: Slash, Episode-Related

SPOILERS: Mild ones for "Minefield".

RATING: PG

SUMMARY: Everyone has their little force of habit.

ARCHIVE INSTRUCTIONS: Archer's Enterprise, WWOMB, and anyone else just ask nicely.

Disclaimer: They're not mine. There'd be a lot more kissing if they were mine.

Author's Notes: I'm working on a longer story from "Minefield", but this little bit hit me a second ago and demanded attention.

Force of Habit
By Perpetual Motion

"Hell. Hell. Hell. Hell. Hell." Malcolm limped across the room and carefully sat on the edge of the
bed.

"You know, there's a reason Phlox gave you crutches."

"Yes, so I could injure myself further when the ship suddenly lurches, and I fall straight on my face."

Jon walked over to the bed and sat next to Malcolm. "You know, you're a bit of a pessimist."

"Force of habit as a security officer. Always assume the worst." Malcolm smiled slightly at Jon.

Jon leaned over and kissed him. "It's very attractive on you."

"The pessimism?"

"Yes." Jon watched Malcolm watched him. "What?"

"No one's ever considered it a good thing before." Malcolm looked down at the admission.

"You do that alot, too."

"What?"

"You look down when you say something you consider to be a bad thing." Jon touched the side of Malcolm's face. "You act like I'm going to disapprove."

"Another force of habit."

"I'll have to break you of that one." Jon leaned in and felt Malcolm move back slightly. "Are you okay?"

"Just uncomfortable. My leg, I mean. It's a bit sore." Malcolm shifted again.

Jon leaned down and picked up the leg in question, placing it carefully on his lap. He started to
massage around the bandage, being careful with the pressue he was putting on it. "Does that help?"

Malcolm didn't answer, just watched Jon's hands move. He spoke softly after a few moments. "I never thought I'd be here."

"Where?" Jon lightened his touch, feathered his fingers up and down Malcolm's leg.

"Here. On the brightest ship in a fleet. Falling for a Captain."

"Well, you are on the brightest ship in a fleet, and I'm very glad you're falling for the Captain."

"I'm not supposed to socialize like this."

"I'm not supposed to disarm mines while my head of security has a spike through his leg, but here we are."

Malcolm couldn't help smiling. "You have a way of making everything disturbingly go in your favor."

Jon leaned in to kiss him, his hands curling around Malcolm's waist. "Force of habit."

END