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unknownfacelessfanfictions · 1 year

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Tick Tock goes the clock

Fandom: Star Trek Enterprise Pairing: Malcolm Reed x Reader Words: 5.2K Warnings: Mentions of death, maybe a bit violence? Summary: Reader and Malcolm are trapped together in a cell until Archer manages to bail them out. Prompt: Soulmate AU!, where you have a count down on your arm, that shows how long it will take you to finally meet your soulmate. A/N: This didn't excactly went into the direction I wanted it too, but I kind of like it.

Y/N breathed in and out deeply, legs crossed cross-legged, hands resting on one knee each, urgently trying to rid the biting cold from her limbs as she regretted for the umpteenth time taking Ensign Jones with her.

As the only anthropologist, she had been sent to Licaurus, an M-class planet inhabited by a post-warp culture that, despite scientific advances, clung firmly to its traditions. One of them, for example, was that to greet visitors who were not part of one's own family, a sharp blade was held to the throat, tip out. Not, however, the sides of the neck, as the Licaurs thus displayed romantic or sexual interest, depending on which side the blade was on.

This was for the purpose of demonstrating the superior power one could theoretically have, but at the same time showing their peaceful will, as they did not actually cut the throat. A tradition that Y/N had explicitly explained several times to the rest of the landing party, consisting of Ensign Jones, a security officer, and Ensign Rouge, a science officer. Ensign Rouge had adhered to this tradition, however Ensign Jones seemed not to have even begun to listen to Y/N, because as soon as Colbix, the Lincaure who was supposed to greet them, put his edge to her throat, Ensign Jones pulled out his pistol and pointed it at Colbix. From then on, everything was out of hand.

The guards who had accompanied Colbix, another purely symbolic sign of power not exercised under normal circumstances, had in turn pointed their weapons at Jones. Y/N had tried to reason with both sides and had repeatedly asked Jones to lower his weapon. However, Jones did not seem to trust her knowledge, as he did not lower his weapon but fired a shot.

From then on, at the latest, she knew that this mission, which was supposed to be simple, would be a disaster. Before Jones had even taken his finger off the trigger, if there was such a thing with these weapons, she wasn't sure, he was hit three times in the chest and slumped to the ground. Y/N had had to suppress a scream, which Ensign Rouge had not managed so well. She had ordered her not to make a sound and certainly not to run away.

Lincauren would see this running away as complicity and would also open the hunt for her. They believed that someone who was innocent would not feel the need to flee, a tradition they had also impressed on Rouge and Jones. Rouge, however, seemed to have forgotten everything in her panic, because, despite Y/N's insistent talking, she turned and fled in the opposite direction.

Instantly Colbix sent several guards after her. Y/N had had to suppress a heavy swallow. She had seen the excited glint in their eyes. Their hunting instincts had been aroused. And all she could do now was pray for Lieutenant Rouge.

After that, everything had happened quite quickly. Two guards had grabbed her by the arms and dragged her behind them. She had not fought back, otherwise they would also declare her "guilty" and possibly do worse than lock her in the cold cell she was currently in.

Y/N, however, was not afraid for herself. She was innocent and considering that the Lincaurs had not yet executed her, they probably believed it. She was more worried about the crew of the Enterprise, especially Ensign Rouge.

She could only hope that she had been able to contact the Enterprise and was now safely back on the ship. Otherwise, there would probably be a problem soon.

They had been ordered to report in every two hours. It had certainly been seven if not eight hours since the last time. And the way she saw Archer, he would do anything to get his crew back. At least what was left of it.

She could only hope that Commander T'Pol had looked at her notes on the Licaurs beforehand. Otherwise, it could quickly end with her being the only one to survive on this planet.

With a low moan, she stretched out her legs. A soft crack came from her knees and she screwed up her face. She was really getting old.

All at once she heard footsteps approaching. She looked up. No guard had entered this room since they had thrown her in here. Perhaps she was lucky and the Licaurs had concluded that she was not part of this "conspiracy", rather a misunderstanding in her opinion, and would let her go. Or, perhaps they did find her guilty and would now execute her. Y/N hoped very much for the former.

Slowly she straightened up. Her legs and back ached and she was pretty sure she had broken a rib, thanks to the end of the gun from one of the guards that he had rammed into her chest. Her legs were shaking, but she didn't know if it was from the cold or because she could barely feel her legs.

The door swung open and two guards entered.

For a moment she really believed they were going to get her out of here. But only until a third guard pushed another person into her cell and all three retreated again. With a loud bang, the iron door was pulled shut behind them and Y/N was alone in the cell, along with the groaning man on the floor. A heavy sigh escaped her as she slid down the wall.

"Well, you sound pleased to see me," the man scoffed and sat up with a groan. Her gaze flew quickly over him. He was slightly shorter than most of the men on board, had short dark hair and appeared to have a small scar on his upper lip. His eyes continued to be closed as he leaned against the wall opposite her. "Well, I was honestly hoping to get out of here," she admitted, adding "Lieutenant" after a quick glance at his right breast.

"We're working on it. At least the captain is." All at once she understood why he was sitting in the cell with her. "So I guess Captain Archer has started negotiations with the Licaurs? For a moment I thought you were as much a prisoner as I am, sir." He snorted. "Well, I wouldn't call it a holiday." She smirked. "Perhaps not. However, it's tradition among the Licaurs that when negotiations take place, one hostage from each side is taken from the other."

"Hostage?!"

"They call it joristica. Or joristico. Or even joristice. It depends on the gender. Female, Male or Other." The man raised his eyebrow. "It's tradition. Nothing is done to the hostages. Provided, of course, that Captain Archer doesn't cause any problems." He was still leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. "You sure know a lot about this culture." She looked at him for a few moments.

"I'm Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N, the anthropologist who accompanied this landing party. I should make sure nothing goes wrong." The man snorted. "Well that worked." Y/N folded her arms in front of her chest.

"Is it my fault that both Ensign Jones and Ensign Rouge threw my advice to the wind?" She looked down at the floor.

"I gave both of them a short briefing beforehand and pointed out to them the most important things and traditions of the Licaurs. I am well aware that it is not possible to learn everything in such a short time. Nevertheless, I must have told them five or six times to stay calm, not to see the greeting as a threat and not to run away under any circumstances, should an emergency occur. Both Ensign Jones and Ensign Rouge did not take my admonitions seriously or even follow them. Even when I told them so myself in the situation at hand."

Now it was up to her to close her eyes, a pained expression on her face. "And now both of them are dead. Because I failed as a superior officer."

She heard the rustling of clothes. Apparently the man had just sat up. "Ensign Rouge is not dead, Lieutenant. She is alive. She was able to contact Enterprise. Why do you think we're here in the first place?" She stifled a sarcastic comment as relief spread through her chest.

"She's alive?" Y/N opened her eyes and looked into the face of the man, who had apparently decided to open his as well. He was smiling. In the darkness she couldn't quite make out the colour of his eyes, however they seemed bright. She felt a slight itch on her left forearm, but suppressed the urge to scratch.

"Yes. She is in the infirmary with some scrapes and scratches and seems slightly traumatised, but Doctor Phlox is of the opinion that she will be fine." Absently, she noticed that the lieutenant seemed to be struggling with itching as well. Lost in thought, he rubbed his left forearm through the sleeve of his uniform. Maybe there was some substance here that didn't do well with her uniform?

"But it's too late for Ensign Jones," she added with a lowered voice and gaze. "And that's my fault. I should have prepared him harder."

"No," his voice was gentle. "If it's anyone's fault, it's mine. I am his direct supervisor. He falls under my purview, not yours." At these words she listened up. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Malcolm Reed."

She had to suppress a swallow. Of course, it was her luck to be trapped in a cell with a senior officer. She shook her head slightly to clear her mind. She was beginning to feel that this constant coldness was freezing her mind. "I don't think it was your fault, sir." Reed looked up from his lap and a shiver came over her

. The cold really had to be getting to her. "He may have been under your charge, however, it had been my job to properly brief him." He shook his head, but before he could say anything she continued. "But still you feel guilty, don't you sir? Is that why you volunteered to be the joristico?" Reed frowned. "How do you know?" She pressed her lips together. Why did she have to have such a big mouth?

"Well, ninety percent of the time when Phlox cancels our lunch it's because you're lying in sickbay, having volunteered for some mission, sir. I was beginning to think you were suffering from chronic self-sacrifice." As soon as she uttered the words, she bit her lip. Reed might also be a lieutenant in rank, but he was still a senior officer and therefore a little higher in rank than she was. He raised an eyebrow. "Lieutenant-"

"I know, sir. I crossed a line and I should have kept my mouth shut. Pardon me." A small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "At ease, lieutenant. It's all right." She smiled briefly. "Thank you." She hesitated and Reed noticed it right away. "I guess you and I are going to be spending quite a bit of time here, so don't be shy. What did you want to ask?" Y/N briefly moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. "Would you mind explaining to me what has happened since we lost contact with Enterprise? As you said, we're going to spend some more time here. And I don't know about you, sir, however, I would hate to spend that time in silence." He nodded. "I guess you're right."

Immediately he began his report. At first she listened to him attentively, but as time went by her eyes began to grow dull and tiredness overcame her. The only reason she had not long since sunk into the realm of dreams was the constant itching on her forearm. "Am I boring you?"

She blamed fatigue and constant coldness for her subsequent reply. "Sorry sir, it's just.... Has anyone ever told you that your voice is very soothing and pleasant?" Silence followed, then a soft chuckle. "Soothing and pleasant?"

"Mhhmmm. Especially the accent is nice. Different from constant Yanks where you can't understand a thing." A soft laugh rang out and it was only moments later that she realised what exactly she had been saying. Right off the bat she sat up and felt the heat rise to her face.

"I...no I... I meant... Bloody hell... See...," she tried to talk her way out of it as Reed looked at her with amusement on his face. "My accent?" She slapped her hands over her face in exasperation. "Forget it, please. It's the dehydration. And the cold. I'm afraid I can't think straight." All at once all amusement was gone from his face and replaced by concern. "How long have you been here?"

She shrugged languidly. "I don't know, sir, seven hours, maybe eight." Reed sat up straighter and slid over to her. "And how long since you had a drink?" He took her wrist in his to take her pulse. His warm skin on her cold one gave her goosebumps and instantly warmth spread through her as well.

"Sir, I don't know if you are aware, but as long as the Licaurs hold prisoners, especially joristices, they will not be provided with food, water or blankets. This is to help negotiations move along more quickly." There was horror reflected on Reed's face. "Are you telling me that the last time you drank was eight hours ago?" "Maybe longer." A shiver came over her and the itch got worse with every passing second. "The cold is worse, though."

Reed regarded her thoughtfully for a moment before sighing. "I almost froze to death once and at least I had blankets then. I'm not really up for a repeat. So begging your pardon." And with that, he put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer.

His aftershave rose to her nose and she grew even warmer. Actually, that should have been pleasant after hours of cold, but the itch intensified unbearably, almost agonisingly, until she gave in, pushed up her sleeve and let her fingernails run over her skin.

A satisfied sigh escaped her.

"I certainly hope your mate won't hold it against me. After all, I'm only trying to stop you from freezing to death." She frowned, broke free of the embrace and turned. His face was closer than she'd thought, which made her slide back a little. "What are you talking about, sir?" Now it was up to Reed to frown and he nodded over to her forearm. "Your soul mate. I hope he understands."

Confused, she looked down. Her breath caught in her throat and she was pretty sure her eyes were round as plates. On her forearm, where a countdown had usually been displayed in gruesomely conspicuous white lettering, there was now nothing but an infinity sign in a more inconspicuous black. "What the hell?" Dumbfounded, she stared at her arm. "When..how..what.." Reed looked at her in surprise. "You didn't know?"

"No! How could I?!" She pinched herself once to make sure she wasn't already hallucinating from the cold. "Before the mission, there was still the countdown. Heck, even before I was thrown in that cell."

She couldn't understand it. It usually showed, after all. In her head she went through the signs again. Shivers, warmth to the touch, an irrepressible itch until the partner touched the mark- She faltered. Could it be- Her gaze met Reed's before moving to his forearm. He was still scratching through his uniform. She had to risk it. "May I see your forearm, please?"

Reed's eyes widened. "Excuse me?" She felt the heat rush to her face, however she did her best to look professional. "As you know, normal signs of finding your mate are shivering, itching and warmth to the touch. I've been showing these symptoms since you came in. Of course, it could be one of the guards, but since you've been scratching your arm yourself since you got here, I have to consider the possibility. So may I?"

Reed looked down in surprise, as if only now noticing the scratching, and nodded absently. Carefully, she took his jacket sleeve, took a deep breath and pushed it up. What came to light was the same black infinity mark that was very apparent on his pale skin.

" Bloody hell." Dumbfounded, Reed stared at his arm. She looked up in surprise. From what she'd heard, Reed was actually always professional and kept his feelings to himself most of the time. Seeing him like this...she had to admit, it was intriguing. "But it was different before!" She let herself sink back and stared at the floor. "I guess that makes it pretty obvious, doesn't it?"

She could feel his gaze on her and looked up. The light coming through the window cast no shadows on his face this time, so she could see it clearly. "Guess so. So, what do we do now?" She smirked shyly. "Maybe you could touch my mark? It still itches horribly." Lost in thought, he placed his hand on her forearm while still staring intangibly at his. Relieved, she sighed as the unbearable itch disappeared. "Thank you."

Reed didn't respond, but leaned back a little to give her more space. After some silence, Reed raised his voice. "I want to be honest with you, Lieutenant. I never really believed in all that soul mate stuff." Y/N shook her head almost in relief. She wasn't alone in that opinion.

"Neither did I really, sir. It struck me as odd that the universe should determine who is the best match for me and who I should spend my life with." He nodded in agreement. His gaze wandered down and only now did they both notice that he still had his hand on her forearm.

He turned slightly red in the face and withdrew his hand instantly. Shyly he looked into her eyes and for a moment she was no longer sure if the man in front of her was really the same man who was usually so heroically willing to sacrifice himself. "And what do you suggest we do?"

She hesitated. "Permission to speak freely, sir?" He smiled shyly. "You don't have to ask my permission. It would be a bit strange in this situation, wouldn't it? But if that's the way you want it, permission granted, Lieutenant" She smiled. "Thank you." Nervousness spread through her. "While I never, really believed in this, however, I would hate to pretend it didn't happen. I expect nothing from you and if you wish to keep our relationship purely professional, I will accept your wish." Reed's face had turned even redder. "I don't mean to offend you, however, I don't think I'm cut out or ready for a romantic relationship right now."

Now it was up to her to feel heat on her face. "Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that. I mean, sure, romantic relationships are usually where soulmates end up. After all, even Starfleet has allowed relationships to happen between soulmates, even if they have different ranks. However, I think you know, as I do, that sometimes soulmates are just good friends and-"

She groaned. "What I'm saying is, I'm not ready for a romantic relationship right now either. I just got out of my last one and it wasn't that nice. Actually, I wanted to ask what exactly you want out of all this. What is your "maximum goal"? A strict working relationship? Friendship? Maybe a romantic relationship later on?"

She added the last more quietly, however Reed must have heard it because he blushed again. "I just want there to be no misunderstanding. As I said before, many expect the true love after they meet their soulmate. But if that is not your wish, I will leave it at friendship or work. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, sir."

He looked up and she thought she saw gratitude and amazement in equal measure on her face. "Thank you for your honesty. I appreciate it. "

He looked down as he moved a little closer to her. During the conversation, she had been leaning against the wall, which was why they were now sitting next to each other.

"I don't know what exactly to make of this. I don't know what I should expect. Or want to expect. However, I agree with you. I would hate to forget all this. I already told you that I'm not ready for a romantic relationship right now. In the near or distant future, maybe I am. We could just take a chance on that?"

Y/N nodded slightly. Reed slowly lifted his arm. "May I?" Again she nodded and he once more put his arm around her. Though this time she didn't feel a rush of warmth, it was pleasant in spite of everything. "We could take it slow," he added after a while.

She looked up at him. "And how?" He shrugged. "I don't know. Would you mind having a weekly dinner together? Of course we'd have to see if it works with our shifts but I'm sure we could work something out. Assuming that's what you're interested in, of course. You don't have to and please don't feel pressured to do it, it's just an offer, I-"

"Love to, sir." Smiling, she looked at him and he returned her smile with a small smirk. "If you don't mind, I'd ask you to just call me Malcolm when we're off duty. Sir sounds so formal."

"Then please, call me Y/N."

"I'd be delighted."

BONUS:

If asked, Y/N wasn't sure she could clearly define the feelings inside her. Five minutes ago, Doctor Phlox had notified her and asked her to come to sickbay. When she asked why, he merely replied that Malcolm had injured himself. Without further hesitation, she had dropped everything and fled from her office in the direction of Sickbay.

She would only have had to work for another ten minutes anyway. Phlox hadn't had time to specify what exactly had happened to Malcolm and in her mind she was imagining the most horrific scenarios, from broken limbs to finding nothing but his dead, cold body in front of her. She stepped into the lift. "Infirmary." The low hum did not reassure her at all.

Nine quiet months had passed since their capture by the Licaurs, during which Malcolm had only volunteered to do the job in an emergency, when no one else was made to do it, to keep from getting hurt and to keep your blood pressure from skyrocketing.

Nine months in which, as agreed, you took things slowly. Weekly dinners, then twice a week, then three times. Over time, an occasional breakfast was added, and when Phlox cancelled, rarely a lunch. Y/N had been worried at first that she would keep him away from his friends, but Malcolm had reassured her.

He would still spend enough time with them and he promised that he would tell her if he felt he was neglecting his friends. After two or three months of eating together, they started spending time outside of meals. Every now and then she would visit him in the armoury or he would visit her in her office. Every time a report from the science department had to be brought to the bridge instantly, she volunteered just to give him a little smile.

After another two months, they had also started to meet occasionally in their quarters. To watch a film, read together, talk or just be in each other's presence. And in those nine months, she had fallen quite in love with the weapons officer. Really deeply. Maybe that was why her heart was pounding wildly in her chest as she walked through the doors of the infirmary.

"Doctor?" Instantly, Phlox's smiling face emerged from behind one of the screens. "Ah, Y/N. How good of you to come so quickly."

"Where is he? Is everything all right with him? Please tell me it's nothing fatal."

A laugh rang out from behind the privacy screen. "I'm fine, Y/N." As soon as the voice, dripping with British accent, carried over to her, the knot of fear that he might already be dead disappeared. And then, when the privacy screen was pushed aside and Malcolm emerged, she couldn't suppress a relieved sigh.

"It's nothing life-threatening," Phlox assured her reassuringly, putting his hand on her shoulder. "One of the relays exploded and Lieutenant Reed was hit by one of the pieces. Since he's your partner, I thought it would be good to call you. He just needs some bed rest."

She nodded, suppressing the urge to remind him that she and Malcolm weren't dating . Not yet. "Thank you doctor." The latter smiled broadly at her before turning to Malcolm. "Remember, Lieutenant. No exertion for the next three days. You are relieved of duty." Y/N could tell by the look on his face that Malcolm didn't like it, however he just nodded and walked over to her. She could clearly see that he was limping and struggled with herself whether to support him, but decided against it. Even though he sometimes didn't like to admit it, Malcolm had his pride.

To her surprise, however, he paused in front of the door, took a deep breath, his shoulders lifting so that his uniform tightened around his body, before turning to her with a shy smile. "Could you possibly help me? I would hate to fall in front of the other officers."

For a moment she looked at him, completely perplexed, before rushing to his side with a quiet "Of course." Instantly he put an arm around her, as he had done in the cell, and leaned lightly on her. She realised he wasn't leaning half his weight on her and she felt warm. Just the thought that he cared enough about her to worry that he was too heavy, which he probably would be, those muscles weren't made of air, stirred her heart.

They walked slowly, so as not to overload Malcolm, to the lift. She let him go first and after giving the order to the lift, he leaned against the wall. "Thank you."

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "You're welcome." Silence. The doors opened and Malcolm wrapped an arm around her again and they continued on their way. Just outside his quarters, Commander Tucker came towards them. She gave him a curt nod so as not to seem rude, but he grinned at Malcolm.

"Don't chicken out this time, all right?" He nodded at her. "Lieutenant." With a cheeky grin he walked on and confused she looked after him. "Malcolm-?" He, however, avoided her gaze, his face deep red. "Never mind," he muttered, opening the door to his quarters. She walked beside him, still confused, and helped him sit down on his bed. He groaned softly and exhaled heavily. "I really should pay more attention." His laugh sounded forced.

"What did Commander Tucker mean just now?" She clasped her hands at her sides questioningly. Malcolm blushed even redder. "Never mind, my darling." He and she froze at the same time. "What-"

"Oh, God, I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention." Malcolm's face much more of a tomato at the moment. "I really didn't mean to. It's just been in my head for weeks, if not months, calling you that and- Oh my... that just sounds worse. Like I'm a possessive creep. I'm sorry..."

"Can you say that again?" Malcolm paused and looked up. What he saw took all the words out of his mouth. She had come closer, her eyes wide, her arms discreetly outstretched towards him, and he thought he saw a certain blush on her face. "What?"

Her face darkened even more and she took a few more steps closer. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest and she thought it could be heard even on the bridge. "Can you say that again? What you just called me?" Malcolm snorted and looked to the side. "Stop making fun of me! I-" Malcolm fell silent as she stood directly in front of him and took his face in her hands. "I'm not making fun of you, Malcolm. I meant it." Gently she ran her thumb over his cheekbone. "Please, Malcolm."

It was his eyes that widened now and he looked at her almost entranced. Gently he placed his hand on hers, which still rested on his cheek, stroking it and brushing her palm with his lips. "My darling." She closed her eyes and let her head fall forward gently. Warmth and a tingling exploded inside her at his words and she felt like she was drowning with love. Apparently Malcolm also seemed to have realised exactly what his words seemed to be doing, because she could feel a slight smirk against her palm. "My love. My sweetheart."

She opened her eyes and looked at him. He had straightened up and was staring at her out of his eyes, warm and loving. With his right hand he still held her left. Slowly his hand slid over her forearm, where the black infinity mark was still visible. Bending down slowly, he gently pressed his lips to her warm skin as light as a feather, never losing eye contact.

Her breath caught at the contact and her eyelids fluttered as if they couldn't decide whether to close in pleasure or stay open forever so as not to lose sight of this gorgeous man. Slowly he straightened up again and at that very moment she could stand it no longer. Gently but firmly, she pulled him towards her by the uniform.

Malcolm did not speak back, but even took a step closer. Carefully she ran her hand over his cheek. "I know we said we'd take it slow. Is nine months enough for you to decide what you want?" Malcolm couldn't take his eyes off her. "I think so."

And without much further hesitation, she pulled him close and placed her lips on his. Instantly she felt Malcolm place his hands on her waist and gently pull her closer. Her hands moved up and her fingers ran lovingly through his short brown strands as he in turn gently ran his hands up and down her waist, not going too far.

When they broke away, he pressed his forehead against hers and she smiled with closed eyes. "May I assume that Commander Tucker meant something like that?" He laughed softly. "Trip's been trying to get me to get off my ass for weeks to confess to you that I want a romantic relationship." She ran her thumb over his lips. "Oh really?"

"Mhhh." She kissed him briefly. "I guess I'll have to send him a thank you card then."

Malcolm buried his face in her neck. "Just don't, it'll only grow his ego." She laughed softly. "I want a romantic relationship too, Malcolm. But on one condition."

He raised his head. "I expect to be addressed only by such wonderful nicknames from now on."

"Do you, darling?" he softly purred. She heaved a sigh. "It's not my fault your voice goes with it so beautifully." "Especially my accent." Smiling, she buried her face in his neck. "Especially the accent."

"If that's the case, I guess I won't call you anything else, beloved."

"You won't hear any protest from me."

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