Round The Campfire
Pairing: T/R
Rating: R
Feedback: Please, my first challenge fic in this fandom.
Warning: Probably medically inaccurate.
Note: An answer to the EntSTslash Listmom birthday challenge!
Let's see, the challenge - it must have Trip/Malcolm interaction at its
heart (though I will not require that they be in a relationship - it can be
just friendship). Preferably funny.
And what say we toss in a couple of things that can be elements (should
anyone so desire):
Terminator movies (preferably Terminator 2 with the liquid metal bad guy)
an accidental broken nose
any children's rhyme
(A/N: I’ve interpreted ‘children’s rhyme’ as ‘songs I sang at Brownies’, ok?)
********************
“We’ve got a campfire, let’s tell some ghost stories.”
“Trip, there’s just the two of us. You need rather more of an audience for ghost stories. Think of something else to do.”
Trip looked over at Malcolm. The firelight softened his features, and Trip’s expression changed. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off.
“No.”
“You have no idea what I was gonna say!”
“Oh, don’t I?” Malcolm leaned forwards, chin in hand, smiling.
“I could have suggested anything!”
“You *could* have suggested anything, but what you were about to suggest was hot, dirty sex by this campfire.”
“So, you’re right. Anyway, what’s wrong with that idea?”
“Oh, nothing, apart from the fact that we are being observed by both our own ship and that Vulcan one on the survey mission. Hot, dirty sex is one thing, hot, dirty sex viewed by the entire Vulcan high command is quite another.”
“Hey, you have no idea that they’re watching.”
“They may well not be watching. The point is, they could be and I don’t want to take that risk.
Trip pulled a face. “There’s out tent just over there...”
“And how suspicious is that going to look?”
“We’ve got to go to bed sometime.”
“Yes, but waiting a little longer would be politic. It’s hardly even dark.”
“How long’s a little longer?”
“Patience is a virtue.”
Trip pouted. “So I’ve gotta sit here, with you just there, and no-one for miles around, and I can’t put a finger on you till bedtime, just cos some Vulcan’s looking over my shoulder?”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t lay a finger on me. I said you couldn’t ravish me.”
Trip shuffled along the log they were sitting until he was next to Malcolm. He slid his arm round his waist and Malcolm laid his head on Trip’s shoulder.
“This ok then?”
“Very nice. Warmer as well.”
“Do I get to ravish you later?”
“Almost certainly.” Malcolm snuggled a little closer.
“So it’s ok for the Vulcans to see this?” He planted a kiss in Malcolm’s hair.
“No. But I can’t really bring myself to care.”
“We still need to find something to do.”
“Bring any marshmallows to toast?”
“Clean forgot them.”
“Crumpets?”
“Nope, and we ain’t got any butter anyway.”
“We could try toasting the resequenced meatloaf.”
“I don’t want to spoil the mood.”
“There’s campfire songs...”
“You’re not gonna bring up the scout thing again...”
“Singing songs is something you do round a campfire.”
“Well, I don’t know any campfire songs.”
“I could teach you one.” Malcolm cleared his throat and began to sing, “ging gang gooly gooly...”
“Woah, stop right there. I don’t wanna know.”
Trip could feel the movement of Malcolm laughing as he hugged him closer.
“I knew you were going to say that. It’s just a nonsense song, don’t worry.”
"There's gotta be other campfire stuff to do.”
Malcolm ignored Trip and carried on. “There is another song, my sister sang it when she was little, so it’s ok.” Malcolm began to sing again. “An old Austrian went a yodelling on a mountain so high...”
Trip tried to interrupt him, desperately wanting him to stop singing. “We could talk about stuff.”
Malcolm pressed on, “when along came a grizzly bear, interrupted his cry...”
“Like, they had that ‘Terminator’ movie on last week.”
“He went yodel-ayee-hoo-hoo...”
“All the explosions. Really great explosions.”
“Yodel-ayee-hoo-grr-grr...” There were small hand actions to go with the grizzly bear noises.
“And when the bad guy melted and ran back together again.”
“Yodel-ayee-hoo-hoo...”
“MALCOLM! STOP!”
Malcolm pulled back a little to look at Trip’s face and then burst out laughing. “I knew my singing was bad, but not that bad.”
Trip shuffled a little way away from Malcolm and pointedly turned his back to him. “Some people have no idea how to take a hint.”
“You didn’t have any better suggestions.”
“Sitting watching the fire was better than that.”
Trip was still facing away from Malcolm, so Malcolm sidled up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” There was no response. “It has made five minutes pass a bit faster though.”
“Five minutes? Seemed like longer.”
“Trip. I’ve said I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted,” but this was in a very grudging tone of voice.
“Are you going to look at me then?”
Trip paused for a moment, then swung round. His intention had been to sweep Malcolm into his arms, but the movement caused the log to overbalance and tip the two men backwards. Among the noise of them falling there was a nasty crunch and a yelp of pain from Malcolm. Trip picked himself up. “Mal? You ok?”
“’M fine.”
Trip picked up one of the lamps and carried it over to Malcolm. He looked him over. “Your nose don’t look fine to me.”
There was a chirp from the communicator. Malcolm muttered something about being right about being watched, but Trip ignored this and took the communicator out of his pocket.
“Tucker here.”
It was the captain, concern evident in his voice. “Everything ok down there?”
“We should’a found a more stable log to sit by the fire, that’s all. I think Malcolm’s broken his nose.”
“We can send a shuttlepod down for you...”
“Dno. It’s dnot the first time I’ve broken bmy dnose, I’ll be fine.”
“Trip?”
Trip scrutinised Malcolm’s nose. “I don’t think it’s moved. We’ve got a first aid kit. I can strap it up and give him some painkillers.”
“I think you should talk to the doctor.”
“Yes, Cap’n”
“Phlox here.”
“Mal’s broken his nose.”
“Hmm. Do you have a tricorder there?”
“Just getting it.”
There followed a discussion, with interjections from Malcolm that he was doing just fine and people shouldn't be making a fuss, which concluded that it was an undisplaced fracture, and being without medical aid probably wouldn’t do him any harm.
“That was dnot my idea of passing time before bed.”
“Wasn’t mine either.” Trip banked up the campfire, then took Malcolm’s hand and led him towards the tent. It had taken him a while to work out how to zip starfleet sleeping bags together, but once together they were very cosy.
“No Vulcans watching.”
“Dno. But I can’t breathe through my dnose.”
“Guess I’ll just have to kiss the rest of you better then.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Vulcan captain looked at his viewscreen. He had been told that these humans were unpredictable and illogical, but he had not realised to such an extent. The heat sensitive array was leaving little to the imagination as to what was going on within the tent. Humans. They were barely a step above the beasts of the field.