Author: Lady Alyssa
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Actually, no. Wait, who am I kidding, all slashers are feedback whores, aren't they?
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, but just imagine what the world would be like if I did…
Challenge fic: Louise's now infamous Malcolm-gets-impaled challenge from the EntSTSlash Yahoo Group (Malcolm gets skewered, impaled, stabbed or something similar, no getting shot this time. Only one rule, "No Deathfic"! These are bad, and must not be allowed. Just kidding, so long as there is a warning, write what you like ;) Can be on a ship, or on an away mission, or even shore leave. Make use of these sentences: "Get it out of me! Now!" and "No! Don't touch it!" Hoshi gets to be the hero for a change. Try to include as many of these things as you can: a teddy bear or other stuffed animal any Die Hard movie (or any movie where lots of things get blown up) pancakes with peanut butter *yuck* a foot massage (or any other body part you prefer) Halloween, somebody getting caught in public in their underwear.)
Author's note: This is something of an odd take on the 'impaled' challenge, but it's not intended to make fun of the challenge or anyone who has written a response to it, I just felt like approaching it from a different angle.

"Are you okay, Mal?" asked Trip, looking up from the collection of small spare parts spread in front of him on the mess hall table at his colleague, who was resting his forehead on the edge of the table and swearing under his breath.

"Yes, I'm fine." Malcolm smiled nervously at Trip.

"You might be a little strange sometimes, but Ah think Ah know you pretty well by now and don't you even try'n tell me that any time you use the words 'I'm fine," Malcolm almost visibly winced at Trip's attempt to mimic his accent, "you ain't lying through your teeth."

Trip looked Malcolm in the eye and Malcolm tried to stare him out, his right hand forming a fist as he kept his gaze fixed on the other man's face.

"Now are you gonna tell me what you've done t'yourself this time, or do Ah have t'go an' get the doctor."

Malcolm managed to hold on for another few seconds before Trip's use of the ultimate threat finally forced an answer out of him.

"Alright. I've stapled my hand to the table." There was a pause. "It's not bloody funny, Trip!"

"Sorry. Did you just staple your hand, or are you actually stuck to the table?"

"I said I was stapled to the table didn't I? Look." Malcolm took advantage of Trip's squeamishness to get his revenge and watched the colour drain out of his face when he showed him his left hand with a certain smug satisfaction, which only lasted a few seconds until he realised that being pinned to a table by the small area of skin between one's thumb and index finger wasn't really anything that anyone with any pretensions to sanity could be smug about.

"That looks pretty bad, are you sure you don't want me to get the doctor?"

"No, really, it'll be fine. I'm quite sure I can manage to remove myself from the table without the assistance of the doctor or any of his menagerie." He began to pick at the staple with his nails. "It's gone quite deep into the table and I can't seem to get hold of it properly. I wish I'd actually listened to my mother when she used to tell me off for biting my nails.

"No! Don't touch it!" Malcolm gave Trip a puzzled look. "Don't you remember basic first aid training? You're not supposed to pull somethin' out of a wound in case that's all that's stoppin' you bleedin' t'death."

"It's only a staple in my hand, I'm hardly going to bleed to death."

"You might make it worse though."

"So what am I supposed to do then? Have my console moved down here so that I can blast the Suliban with one hand still stuck to the table? Didn't think so. Are you going to give me a hand with this?"

"Ah really don't think ah'm the right person to be asking for help with that."

"Oh, stop being so pathetic. You're the engineer, have you got anything there that might help me get the staple out, a magnet or something?"

"Ah don't know, maybe, but Ah still don't think this is such a good idea."

"Of course it's a good id – Trip, who are you waving to?"

"Hoshi, she's just come in to get dinner and it wouldn't polite to not wave back."

"But she'll come and sit with us and how is it going to look if I embarrass myself like this in front of one of the junior officers? Trip, you've got to get it out of me! Now!" Malcolm grabbed the first bit of metal that came to hand and waved it over his hand in the vain hope that it might magically cause the staple to let go of the table.

"Hi, mind if I sit here?"

"Course not, pull up a chair."

Malcolm frantically pulled a piece of black cloth over his hand and tried his best not to look in any way suspicious or in pain.

"Are these your costumes for the Halloween party? They look great! Especially the lightsabers, Commander, there's so much detail, they must take forever to make."

"Can't be a proper Jedi until you've built your own 'saber and I've nearly finished."

"You're going to really look the part as Obi-Wan, but I'd never really imagined you as Vader, Lieutenant, I thought Han Solo would be more your thing, you know, with the blasters and everything."

"I did suggest it, but he just had to have a lightsaber. He coulda tried playing with mine, but he wanted one of his own. Hey, did I ever tell you that story about Malcolm's lightsaber –"

Hoshi blushed. "I'm not sure if that's really any of my business, sir."

"Hey! Ah'm a gentleman and gentlemen don't go round tellin' people 'bout that kinda stuff. If you'd a let me finish my sentence it would have been 'the story about Malcolm's lightsaber underpants'."

Hoshi looked intruiged, but Malcolm just looked as if he wanted to crawl under the table, which would have been something of an achievement without elasticated arms. "I'm sure she doesn't want to hear about that."

"Oh, I'm sure she does, don't ya, Hoshi?" She nodded and Trip continued. "It was on his first day at the Academy and with all his usual efficiency, Malcolm had arrived really early and unpacked all of his stuff, set it at right angles on his desk and so forth, but his roommate back then, well, he was kinda like the Anti-Malcolm, turned up real late and just happened to walk into the room with his parents when Malcolm was changin' his clothes before he went to dinner. So he was standin' in the middle of the room with his pants round his knees," Hoshi giggled and Trip paused to build up to his big finish. "An' y'know what his underpants had on them? All these little pictures a Yoda an' 'the galaxy's biggest lightsaber' written across the front. Everyone in his class had heard about it in less than a week, and they didn't forget it either, they were still laughin' about his lightsaber until graduation."

"They were a good luck present."

"Yeah? Who from?"

Malcolm decided to ignore the question and turned to Hoshi. "Do you know what's on Commander Tucker's favourite pair of boxer shorts?"

"Aww, c'mon…"

"Teddy bears. Holding big red hearts. Apparently they were a present from an old girlfriend…"

"Right, that's it Reed, your ass is mine!" Trip lunged across the table and tried to mess up Malcolm's neatly brushed hair. Malcolm attempted to retaliate with a move which would have had Trip face down on the table with his arm twisted behind his back, but he had forgotten about the staple and swore loudly when he tried to pull his left hand away from the desk.

A few people at the tables around them looked up in surprise.

"Um, are you okay?" asked Hoshi.

"Of course I am Ensign, I've just inadvertently stapled my hand to the table."

"And you're 'okay'? It looks quite painful."

"I'll be fine."

"No he won't, he can't get it out and he won't let me get the doctor 'cos he thinks he can pull it out himself."

"I'm sure I'll manage it in a minute or two, I just have to grip it properly."

"Maybe you should just let him get some help."

"No!"

"Why don't you let me have a look at it then, I might be able to figure out how to get it out." Reluctantly, Malcolm let Hoshi look at his hand. "It seems to have gone in quite deeply. What were you doing with the staplegun anyway?"

"Since Commander Tucker is making both of our lightsabers, I'm supposed to be making our robes, but I'm not very good at sewing and I though that perhaps it would be a good idea to staple the pieces together…" Malcolm's voice trailed off into embarrassed silence.

"I see." Hoshi thought for a moment. "I think I've found the answer." She reached up to her hair and pulled out a hairpin. "If I just slide this under the staple then I can use it to lever it out of the table."

Trip and Malcolm's lower jaws practically hit the floor at this display of almost Vulcan logic.

"Why didn't we think of that? No, don't answer, I'm sure I won't like it."

"I'm sure there was supposed t'be a 'thank you' in there somewhere, Hoshi. An' now if you'll excuse us, Ah think Ah'd better escort Mr Reed to sickbay t'get something done about his hand before he bleeds all over ma costume."

"I'll see you at the party tomorrow night?"

"We'll be there. How else am Ah supposed to start spreadin' the rumours about how he managed to injure himself this time?"

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