Author: Lady Starblade
Rating: Strong PG-13
Pairing: Tucker/Reed
Category: Humor & NDP (No Discernable Plot)
Spoilers: Nope
Warnings: It's completely pointless, does that count?
Archive: Entslash; Anyone else, if ya want it, take it. Just let me know where.
Feedback: Yes, please. <Bambi eyes>
Disclaimer: I wish I may, I wish I might, but I don't own Enterprise or its denizens. And while I'm at it, I wish I got paid for this, but I don't.
Author's Note: Okay, my brain rebelled at any more angst, and this is the result. In the style of my story "Stuck," but stands on its own. Written in twenty minutes and given no serious thought
whatsoever. <g>
Summary: The boys are caught in a tight situation.
Still Stuck
by Lady Starblade
"Mal, how did you get it stuck in there?"
"I really don't know, Trip. It just happened."
A snort. "I'll bet."
"It's true. Can you help me in any way?"
A shrug. "I dunno. This isn't somethin' they teach at engineering school, you know."
"I should hope not. This isn't something that should happen very often."
"All right, all right, let's see if I can wriggle 'round...."
A yelp. "Careful!"
"Sorry babe, but I can't reach it. Can't you grab and pull?"
"I'd rather not, if you don't mind. It's rather delicate."
"And irreplaceable."
"It certainly is."
Silence. "I can't reach. I don't bend that way."
"Yet. Can't you pull a little harder?"
"Malcolm, I don't want to break it!"
A grunt. "Ouch!"
"Sorry. Great. I'm stuck just as bad. Thanks."
"As I recall, you volunteered for this."
Snort. "How did ya get it jammed in there so tight?"
"I don't know. Are you sure you can't do more from your end?"
"I'm tryin'! If we had some help, it'd probably pop right out."
Indignant protest. "Absolutely not!"
"Yeah, I wouldn't want to explain this either."
Another stretch of silence. "Maybe if you braced your feet and pushed."
"You sure you wanna risk it?"
"You have as much to lose as I do."
"Ain't that the truth." A blown out breath. "Okay, if you're sure. This might hurt."
"Do you have a good grip?"
"Yep. You?"
"As ready as I'll ever be."
"Wait a minute, think we should call Phlox and tell 'im to stand by? You know, just in case."
A grumble. "Wouldn't he love that. I don't think so."
"Just a thought. Okay, Mal, on three. One, two....three."
Muffled yelps. A loud thump. Two bodies hitting the floor and rolling three times, coming to a stop piled on top of each other. Several deep breaths.
"Ow, that's gonna leave a mark. You okay?"
"I've been better. Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I think so. It's out, anyway."
"Yes, it is. It'll be sore for a while, I think."
"Well, it was stuck in there long enough." A breath. "Now I'm gonna be sore, too."
Lips pressing against skin. "Thank you, love."
"No problem, darlin'. But do me a favor."
"What's that?"
"Next time you decide to crawl into a torpedo tube and get your hand and alignment scanner stuck in the pipe work, call the Cap'n."
"I'll be sure to do that."
The clink of tools being gathered and replaced. "I just realized something."
"Hmm?"
"If anyone were listenin' in on our conversation, they'd be takin' it real different."
Thoughtful silence. "You have a dirty mind, Trip Tucker."
"Learned from the best, Malcolm Reed."
END