Delusions

"Almost there …" Carefully approaching a scale model of the Phoenix, Trip jumped as his door chime went off, causing him to glue the nacelle on at the wrong angle. "Son of a … Come in!" He reached for the solvent, muttering to himself.

"Trip."

"Hey, Cap'n." Trip concentrated on the model in front of him.

Archer got to the point. "Did you know Hoshi doesn't think I raped her?"

"Yep." Trip gently worked the skewed nacelle off the side of the Phoenix. "She told me last night, after I went t' see her for you."

"Did she say why?" Archer sat down on the bunk.

"Yep." Trip placed the nacelle on correctly this time.

"Can you tell me?" Archer was getting frustrated.

"It's not my place t' say, Cap'n. I thought you talked to Hoshi."

"I did. She says I didn't rape her, and if I go to Malcolm she'll deny it ever happened."

"That all she said?"

"That's all."

"Seems t' me the subject's closed then."

Archer ran a distracted hand through his hair. "You don't let your Captain have his way with you, or give him a blow job so he wouldn't go down on you, just because."

Trip looked up at the mention of a blow job. "We certainly didn't expect her to go that far …"

"Do I repulse her so much that she didn't want me pleasuring her?" Archer seemed not have heard Trip. " Was she thinking of someone else while she was doing it?"

"I'm sure that wasn't the problem …"

"I don't understand. She put me off for days, then instead of just jacking me off she goes down on me. She proved that she could have stopped me last night, but she didn't. Why?"

"I … uh …" Trip shifted in his seat, embarrassed to be talking about Archer and Hoshi's sex life.

"She put everything into that blow job; I know it's been over a year, but God, the things she did … it wasn't a perfunctory 'let's get him off as soon as possible', she practically seduced me, the way she looked in that teddy, with the candlelight on her; the way she teased me with her tongue, the warmth of her mouth …"

"Jebus, Cap'n!" Trip's voice cut through Archer's musings. The look on the Engineers face was distinctly uncomfortable. "Ah really don't need t' be hearin' this! If ya wanna know why Hoshi did what she did, go ask her! Crimeny!"

"Sorry Trip." Archer grinned apologetically.

Trip watched him leave, then got up and laid on his bunk, easing out the hard on that had grown listening to Archer talk. He tried to conjure someone up in his mind, but when Hoshi said she loved the captain he'd shied away from using her like that anymore. And ever since Malcolm had drunkenly admired T'Pol's bum he had left the Vulcan Butt Goddess to the stiff Brit. A petite redhead with a shy smile sprang up in his mind, and as Trip stroked himself he imagined his hands wrapped in the auburn curls, guiding the head bobbing between his legs, doing to him everything Hoshi had done to Jon.

His orgasm was brief and sharp, and only relieved some of the tension in him. "Christ, I gotta get laid," Trip muttered, staring up at the ceiling.

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"We need to talk." Jon had run Hoshi to ground in the gym, where she was working with the free weights.

"Why?" She heard the slight beep as he locked the door, but continued counting her reps.

"That's my line. Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why didn't you stop me last night? Why didn't you let me go down on you? Why didn't you just jack me off instead giving me a blow job?" He watched the color come and go in Hoshi's cheeks at his blunt speech.

She shrugged, putting down the weights. "Why not? I like giving head. It gets me off." Hoshi tried to remember all the slang terms she'd heard over the years. Maybe if he thought she did it just for the sex … "And it had been awhile since I'd screwed around with anyone. I had an itch. You scratched it."

Jon stared at her, not quite believing what he was hearing. "Why did it take you so long then? I kept asking, you kept refusing."

"I wasn't sure if you actually wanted to. I still have to work with you; if you really didn't want to fuck me it would be awkward. But last night you were so insistent … I thought what the hell? Why not. Get something out of this for all my troubles."

"I see." Jon's face was still, but his stomach roiled. She was so clinical about it, so detached. That's all he was to her then, just a convenient and willing cock to ride.

"Is that all, Captain?" Hoshi motioned to the door.

"Yes, that's all." He unlocked it, stepping back to let her walk though.

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Hoshi made it to her cabin before the tears started. Falling to the floor, her body was wracked with sobs, the coldness in Jon's eyes seeping into her soul.

It was better this way, she tried to convince herself as she got the tears under control, peeling off her clothes and pulling on his Stanford shirt. The scent of him enveloped her.

If he knew I loved him, he'd try and be noble and do the right thing. He doesn't need me holding him back.

She crawled into her bunk, burying herself in her quilt that smelled like him too.

Not when he's the captain of a starship. Not when he doesn't really love me.

Her tears giving way to hiccups, Hoshi drifted off to sleep.

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Cold hearted bitch … Jon stormed into his cabin, furious at Hoshi, mad at himself, and pissed he couldn't slam his door shut. He had walked the ship trying to get rid of his anger, but it had only left him with a violent headache.

Reaching for his glass, he realized it wasn't in its usual place on the sink. Finally he found it next to an unopened bottle of aspirin.

When did I use the last one up?

Vague memories came floating though his mind, hands holding him up as he drank from a glass. Jon slowly walked into the cabin.

Words of love interspersed with his as he pushed her against the wall, trying to tell her, trying to make her understand what he didn't know himself until then … cool hands... and a soft warm something … telling him it was alright …

... because she loves me …

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He pressed her door chime again, knowing she was in there, not willing to leave until he had seen her again. Just when he was about to use his security override the door slid open.

Hoshi sucked in her breath as she saw who it was, eyes going wide with fear.

Jon saw the tear streaks on her face, the misery in her eyes, and her in his Stanford shirt. He had his answer.