Title: In the Waiting
Author: Vesper (Regina)
E-mail: vespertanmer@yahoo.com
Warnings: adult themes, implication of violence
Category: ENT, angst
Codes: R/S, Tu
Spoilers: Shuttlepod One
Summary: In the moment of waiting.
Disclaimer: The almighty Paramount encircled by twenty-two stars
owns this particular show, but I own the story. I do not own "The
Wizard of Oz."
Archival: Permission to Warp 5 Complex (EntSTCommunity) and
Linguistics Database, only. Please keep my all headers intact.

*
"And it was so...that the life of Jonathan was bound up with the
life of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul." I Samuel
18:1
*

I used to think I was in the middle.

There is a story the actress Judy Garland would tell, that the
three men she worked with in "The Wizard of Oz" would crowd her
out, and the director would constantly cry, "Let that little girl
in there!"

I often felt out-numbered by men--Malcolm, Trip, Travis, and Jon.

Of the four the two men I envied most were Malcolm and Trip.

Long before Malcolm and I, there was Trip and Malcolm. Anyone
could see it. As small as the ship was, as familiar as everybody
was with everybody else, it was hard not to speculate.

Who is gay, who is straight, who is bi, so on and so forth. I
never really cared. Everyone is entitled to their own
orientation, to their own private life.

Until the day Malcolm kissed me.

It was warm and simple and full of promise, and I loved it. I
loved him. I had for a long time. We were good friends and it
seemed an easy step to make, but then we were all good friends.

I drew back from him. I'd heard too many rumors not to. He looked
at me with all the worry that an action like that would, by
nature, cause, and asked the question I knew I would have to
answer.

"What's wrong, Hoshi?"

"Nothing's wrong, Malcolm. I just have a question."

"What?"

"I always thought you and Trip..." I trailed off, conveniently.
Let him fill it in. Let his reaction tell me what's true.

He raised his eyebrows, but that was all. He said, "That I and
Trip were lovers?"

"Yes."

"Everyone seems to think that. I'm straight. Trip's straight."
He shrugged. "I don't know why they would think so, but it never
bothered me."

"Does it bother you that I thought so?"

"Only if you won't kiss me again."

So I kissed him again, and that was that. He didn't lie to me,
but he and Trip, well, they're close.

You can see it in the consideration they have for each other, the
laughter they share, the almost psychic way they work together,
the way neither backs down when they have something to say. They
speak to each other in the strange code that never approaches talk
of "I feel." It's there though, every single day, and while
Malcolm tells me, "I love you," every chance he gets, the same
feeling is never told to Trip.

He knows, even though he would never say it.

They won't say it. There are always things that are never said.

I mourn for that, and for what might be, for what might happen if
Phlox is not successful.

He is our friend. Malcolm told me once about what actually
happened on the shuttlepod, when they almost died and the
sacrifice they were each prepared to make.

We are waiting, because of Trip's sacrifice. Malcolm is terribly
silent, but his grip on my hand tells me what he feels.

I love them both so much.

I look down at our hands and my tears fall and streak across the
blood that covers them. Trip's blood. There was so much of it,
so much red, staining his uniform, seeping through Malcolm's
hands.

He didn't let the pressure up until he was ordered to. He didn't
say a word, then, his face drawn, only grabbed my hand and
wouldn't let go.

When Trip opened his eyes and croaked, "Hey," the sigh Malcolm let
out was matched by my own.

I used to think I was in the middle. I hope I always am.

End.