kageygirl

Enterprise slash

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Enterprise kageygirl

Sight Unseen

Title: Sight Unseen

Author: kageygirl

E-mail: kageygirl@gmail.com

URL: http://www.kageygirl.com

Fandom: Enterprise

Pairing: Tucker/Reed

Rating: R

Category: Slash

Summary: Post-ep for 2.08 "The Communicator." Silly mushy fluff. Fanfic comfort food.

Spoilers: "The Communicator"

Comments: I swore I wouldn't write a "Communicator" post-ep. Crud. Thus I prove once again that I am both cheap AND easy.

Beta reader(s): Leah gave it the thumbs-up. Though I suspect she'll deny any credit I give her.

There's nothing like a quiet night in my quarters. Malcolm is pretending to work on the mission report while sneaking glances at my right arm, and I'm pretending not to notice while plotting the best way to kill Travis. I'm an engineer—I can make it look like an accident. He really didn't need to tell Malcolm about my little cloaking mishap…at least, not with such obvious glee. "Stealing popcorn", my ass. I suspect our resident Boomer has the dirtiest mind on the ship.

Oh, here it comes. Apparently, Malcolm is tired of the little game of tag we've been playing with our eyes, because he sits next to me on the bed and nods down at my arm. "Can I have a look?"

"I'd really rather you didn't. It's kinda disconcertin'." I shift my arm back a little bit, but that doesn't put him off. He's damn tenacious when he wants to be.

He gives me a look that's part curiosity and part calculation. "You still owe me for the repair station."

Hell, he's never gonna let that go. I hold out my arm with a sigh. "Fine. Have at it."

He unfastens the cuff, then rolls up my sleeve. It still gives my stomach a turn to see nothing there between the end of my sleeve and the surgical glove. Malcolm tilts his head and looks down at the nothingness without touching. "And you don't have to be in proximity to the cloaking generator? Fascinating."

"You sound like T'Pol." Really, it stopped being fascinating pretty damn quick. We didn't have a lot of time to ponder this new wrinkle in my reality while he and the captain were being held captive.

Malcolm's giving my arm a critical look, or he would be, if there were anything to see. "That would be rather handy in a firefight."

I wince at that. "No more firefights for you. No more almost dyin', either, you hear me?"

"Aye, sir." He smiles at me, with only a little sadness. We both know he can't make that promise any more than I can, but it's nice to pretend for a moment.

He takes my hand in one of his, and runs the other one under my invisible forearm, cradling it. I can see his palm through my arm, and that's just wrong. His hand is warm against my skin. "Any loss of sensation?"

"Now you sound like Phlox. No, everything works, I can feel it, I just can't see it." I'm getting a little frustrated at being everyone's fun new scientific discovery.

Malcolm must hear the irritation in my voice, because he gives me a contrite smile. His thumb strokes my forearm in apology, and I shiver, hard. I've suddenly forgiven him. Somehow, feeling his hands on me without seeing me is intense.

He looks up at me and does it again, more deliberately this time. He's drinking in my reaction, his eyes bright. He's enjoying this as much as I am. "May I take off the glove?"

"Sure, go nuts." I try to sound resigned, not eager. Eager makes this too easy for him.

Malcolm's got my wrist in one hand and is peeling off the glove with the other. It pops off with an embarrassing sucking noise, and I have to grin. Malcolm's hiding his smile, too, trying to maintain his decorum. He runs the pads of his fingers over my invisible palm. My skin's sensitized from being inside the glove all day, and a little bit sweaty. He's tickling me, but it's arousing.

"If I lose track of that hand, you're helpin' me find it." I'm fighting to keep my voice steady. He already knows he's got me wrapped around his finger; I don't need to remind him of it.

"I'll just have to keep hold of it, then." He takes my fingers and pulls my hand up as if he's going to kiss the knuckles, then pauses. Looking me straight in the eyes, he blows across the back of my hand, and I can feel the tiny hairs rippling. Suddenly, I'm hard, aching for him.

Now he does press a kiss to my skin, drawing his lips across my index finger until he reaches the fingertip. His tongue darts out to taste it, and my breath catches in my throat.

"Feel that all right?" He's very professional, except for the twinkle in his eyes.

My mouth has gone dry. "Uh, yeah."

"Good." And he slides my finger into his mouth.

Sheer force of will keeps my eyes from rolling back in my head, but I end up dizzy from the effort. Somehow, his personnel file neglected to mention that his tongue should be classified as a deadly weapon. Malcolm's watching me through his lashes, and I give up the fight for my dignity entirely at the look in his eyes. Like nothing in the world is better than watching me dissolve into a puddle at his hands. He's happy, and I'll never get tired of seeing him happy.

I'm breathing hard and feeling overheated when he lets my finger go, and I can just about see the outline of it, glistening. My hand-eye coordination is, of course, shot to hell, so I gently run my hand across his cheek to bury it in his hair, watching the bristly waves ruffle like wheat stalks in a brisk wind. With my other hand I snag his collar and pull him into a demanding kiss. I can feel him smiling against my lips at my urgency.

"Did I mention that I'm really glad you're OK?" I whisper as I trail my lips across his cheek.

"Yes." He's not hiding the laughter in his voice, and I feel a different warmth bloom in my chest.

"And that I'm really glad you're here?" I nibble that spot on his neck, just under his ear, and he shudders for me.

"Yes." Now his voice is wavering between humor and hunger.

"Good for me."

He chuckles, a wicked one that reminds me of bittersweet chocolate. Dark, decadent, sinful. Appropriately enough, that's just how he tastes, and I reacquaint myself with that taste again as I drag him down on top of me.

Malcolm takes control, pinning my wrists down over my head. Then he stops, staring down at me, and his eyes are damn near glowing. He gives me the full-wattage smile, and kisses me so tenderly that I almost melt into the bunk.

"What was that for?" My voice is low, nearly breathless, but I'm just glad to get a coherent sentence out after that kiss.

He seems satisfied as he surveys his handiwork. "Impeccable timing."

"You knew I wouldn't leave you down there, didn't you?" A little worry seeps into me, but he plants a kiss on my forehead and dispels it.

"I did." I can see it in his eyes, absolute faith, and it humbles me. I'm not sure I deserve that level of trust, but I'll move heaven and earth to avoid ever letting him down.

"I'll always come for you, darlin'. Never doubt that."

He raises his eyebrows at me, and the light in his eyes turns mischievous. "We'll see about that." He releases my arms to go to work on my uniform, and I tumble us both over on the bunk, so that I'm on top.

Then I show him just what the second-dirtiest mind on the ship can do with his invisible hand.