Crumple Zone

Title: Crumple Zone

Author: The Ragged Rose

E-mail: raggedrose@yahoo.com

Pairing: Tucker/Reed

Rating: PG

Archive: Yeah, goferit, just let me know where it's gone up.

Feedback: Comments are like yeast--they make ideas rise.

Spoilers: Canamar

Summary: Post Canamar fic

Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, the story is. And I do it for free, guys.

Author's Note: My attempt at the bunny I unleashed on you all. And have you ever had one of those fics where you tried every conceivable way to get the guys down to it, and they just wouldn't go? *sigh* Better luck next time... Oh, and I hate the title. All better ideas considered.

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Automatically, Reed checked his phase pistol back into the armory. He put the weapon in the recharge socket and rested both hands on the console as he waited for the charge to be topped up. He felt hollow, limp now that it was all over. The last day had taken more out of him than he cared to admit. The adrenaline that had carried him through the rescue was gone now and with it the resolve that had seen him through all of it.

How many more times could he go through this? It seemed that every time Trip left the ship, something happened to him. Reed had seen him lying on a biobed more times than he cared to remember. It hadn't gotten any easier. Every time it was like taking a fist to the gut. Or perhaps a little lower. Every time he told himself that this was part of the life he had chosen. He'd known that his duty would demand that he put his life on the line, and that his shipmates would be called on to do the same.

The console beeped softly at him, indicating that the pistol had reached full charge.

Why did it always have to be Trip, though? It wasn't fair. Perhaps it was the universe's way of getting back at him for breaking the non fraternization regs. Reed pulled the weapon out and walked across the room to the weapons locker. Absently he registered his dizziness, the way the deck plating seemed to bounce back as he set his feet on it. Thank God he'd be off duty in half an hour, making it to the end of his shift would give him something else to concentrate on. Something besides the bruised face of his lover, the emptiness he'd felt when they'd found Shuttlepod One tumbling end over end in space. A Reed never wavered, never stopped until the task was done. He felt the pistol snick reassuringly into its clips, and a moment later, the satisfying clunk as the weapons locker door shut. He managed to find small tasks to occupy him until his shift at last ended and he could slip away to his quarters.

The shaking didn't start until the door slid shut behind him. Reed held up his hand, amazed to see it tremble. "I really need to get some sleep," he said quietly. He sat down on his bunk and took a deep breath.

The door chime sounded.

Reed's first impulse was to ignore it. There was no one he wanted to see until he was presentable, and he was off-duty.

It sounded again. Then the door slid open.

Reed stayed where he was. There was only one person aboard who had his passcode, and truly, Trip was the last person he wanted to see right now. Couldn't anyone leave him alone, just long enough to catch his breath? He noted that his lover had showered and had had his face seen to. Trip wore jeans and a loose cotton shirt. He looked absolutely delectable.

Trip stepped inside and shut the door behind him. "Malcolm, where have ya been?" He gave his lover a searching look. "Are you OK?"

"Of course! I'm fine." Malcolm responded automatically.

Trip crossed the room and flopped down on the bed. "That's good, because man, am I ever bushed!"

Malcolm felt a flare of anger as Trip made himself at home without even so much as a by-your-leave. He stayed where he was, afraid that if he moved his conflicting emotions would tear him apart. He wanted to hide, to sort through the muddle in his head until he could show an acceptable face to the world.

The hand on his shoulder made him jump.

"Malcolm?" The bed heaved under him as Trip got up. "What's wrong?" Trip faced him, and squatted down to look into Reed's face.

Reed turned away. "I'm fine. Just a bit tired."

Tucker put a finger under Reed's chin and gently turned Reed's face to his again. The gray eyes were exhausted. He slid his palm along Reed's cheek. "Didn't you miss me?" he said playfully. "I sure missed you, darlin'." He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Reed's.

A wave of desire swept over Reed as their lips met. He melted into the kiss, his mouth opening under Trip's, his hands sliding up the well muscled arms. He came off the bed, his knees hitting the plating as he pressed his body into Trip's. Beloved Trip. How close he'd come to losing him again. The lust was better than the fear and the exhaustion and he gave himself to it.

Trip broke the kiss. He was hard, and hot, and wanted nothing more than to forget his recent ordeal in the welcoming arms of his lover, but Malcolm's desperation was scaring him. He could feel the other man trembling in his arms. "Malcolm?"

Reed didn't answer. He buried his face in Trip's shoulder and ran his hands all over the strong hard body, finding his way under the loose shirt.

"Malcolm?" Trip ran one hand through the dark hair and used the other to capture the hand that was sliding down to his crotch. "Hey, slow down a minute."

"Why?" Reed didn't raise his head from Trip's shoulder.

Trip kissed the hand he held and slid his other down to shoulders that were bars of tension. "Because I want you to calm down a bit. You're one big knot, Mal." He began to lightly rub his lover's shoulders. "You been carrying the weight of the world again, haven't you?"

"That's ridiculous." Reed took a deep breath and raised his head.

Trip began to knead the taut muscles in earnest. "No it isn't. Mal, I'm all right. Safe and sound."

Reed pulled away and stood. "This time."

Trip rose too. "I'll always come back to ya, Mal. I promise."

Reed chuckled, one short, sharp sound. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Mister Tucker."

Tucker looked briefly skyward. "Don't do this, okay?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Reed turned away, the lust washed away in a wave of anger.

"Mal, I don't want to fight with you."

Reed did not turn back. "I don't want to fight with you either, Trip. But I'm really not fit company right now. Perhaps you'd better leave."

Tucker aimed an incredulous look at Malcolm's back. "You seemed like fit company a minute ago," he said gently. He felt Reed jump slightly as he placed his hands on the taut shoulders again. "And it ain't every day I get to see you come charging to my rescue."

Reed sighed as the hands began to work their magic on him. "It's beginning to seem like it. Someday you'll get yourself into something you can't get out of."

"Comes with the territory."

"I know." Reed felt the tension drain out of him and he dropped his head. "And I don't know what I'll do when that day finally comes."

Tucker turned Reed to face him and took him in his arms. "Don't live it till it comes, okay? And it could just as easily be you instead of me. We got now, Mal. Nothing else matters."

Reed's arms went around Tucker fiercely, as if by holding him close he could ward off future dangers.

Tucker hugged him back. "God, I missed ya, Mal." There had been times he was sure he'd never see the slim armory officer again, but he kept that thought to himself. He began to rub slow circles on Malcolm's back, feeling his lover begin to relax at last. He pulled him toward the bed.

Reed allowed Tucker to do as he pleased. As the tension left him, so did what little energy he had left. He let Trip undress him and put him to bed. Funny, usually a good fight left him energized, ready for anything. It was his last conscious thought before sleep took him.