Title: Good Intentions
Contact: kelhapam@metrocast.net
Series: ENT
Rating: PG-13
Code: R/S
Date: December 3, 2002
Summary: Malcolm gives Hoshi a Holiday gift...it's a surprise for
her...and him.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns all the characters, etc., I am just
using the characters for a little fun and relaxation.
Note of Appreciation. Special thanks to my beta readers:
Valorie, Tex, Ronda, and P.J. Sutherland
Posting: Please notify me before you do.
Good Intentions
12/03/02
Standing under a torn canopy to avoid the daily afternoon deluge
of rain, Malcolm withdrew the folded slip of paper from his
pocket and looked at it again. Nothing had changed since the
last several times he'd looked at it. The name hadn't changed,
and he had yet to find anything for her. This would be his last
opportunity to get down to the planet before they broke orbit.
Time was rapidly running out.
A week ago, when the crew learned it would be visiting Xeleedia,
Liz Cutler had come up with a plan to help boost crew morale by
having a small holiday party on the ship. She had arranged for
each member of the crew to provide a small gift for another
member by drawing names. Malcolm had been reluctant to go along
with this celebration, but the Captain had insisted that the
senior staff comply to set a good example for the rest of the
crew. As such, he had dutifully put his hand into the basket and
was surprised to pull out Hoshi Sato's name. He'd hoped to
select some innocuous crewmember, but instead drew the name of
someone on the ship he dearly didn't want to disappoint. And
now, near the end of their last day on the planet, it looked like
that was exactly what was going to happen.
This was the eighth or ninth shop Malcolm had stopped at this
afternoon on the Xeleedian homeworld, which boasted the "Largest
Shopping District in Five Star Sectors," and those didn't even
count the myriad of other stores he had visited yesterday. He'd
never been a shopper, choosing instead to resort to the age-old
standby of giving his family and friends gift certificates when
the season rolled around. But this time opting for the easy way
out was out of the question. It wasn't like they were going to
find a Xeleedian chain store on Risa or Vulcan.
Standing outside the door of a rundown store, he was loathe to
leave what little shelter the canopy provided to venture across
the wide open plaza and into yet another more prosperous store.
Figuring he had nothing to lose, he decided to venture inside the
old shop. The door creaked with protest as Malcolm opened it,
further testimony as to the age of the establishment.
Upon entry, the mustiness of the interior assailed his senses.
Malcolm Reed was thankful he'd recently received his allergy
booster, otherwise he'd be sneezing up a storm to rival the one
outside. Looking around, he noted a great number of old books
which lined many meters of wooden shelves from floor to ceiling.
"Can I help you, young man?"
Malcolm turned to find a grizzled old gentleman approaching him.
The stout man was approximately a meter and a half tall and had a
long white beard which covered the purple mottling all Xeleedians
had on their chins. He was dressed in worn brown trousers and a
long-sleeved bright red shirt. He also wore the thick white
gloves which all Xeleedians, Malcolm had met, seemed to wear.
The Tactical Officer couldn't help but think he looked like a
miniature version of Father Christmas.
"Actually, I'm searching for a present. I'm not sure if you can
help."
"Of course I can help!" the old man said extending his arms wide.
I have many books that might suit your needs." Then he stopped
abruptly and dropped his arms. "The recipient of the gift can
read can't he?"
"Oh yes, *she* can read very well, in many different languages,"
Malcolm reassured the shopkeeper with pride. "She's an
accomplished linguist."
The old man beamed, his smile wide and welcoming. "Well, well,
you've come to the right place. Do you know what she likes to
read? What her interests are?"
"Actually I'm not really sure. I serve on the same ship with
her, but I don't know that much about her other than she likes
languages."
"You know nothing else?" he asked incredulously, as he removed
one of the white gloves. Approaching the Tactical Officer, he
poked Malcolm in the chest with his now bare finger. "How long
have you served on your ship with this woman?"
"Um...over a year in our time, actually almost a year and a half.
I'm not sure how that would translate into Xeleedian standards."
"It sounds like a long time," the old man said, still keeping his
finger on Malcolm's chest. "You like this woman?"
"Like her?"
"You know, do you *like* her?" The man cocked his head to one
side as if addressing a slow-witted child.
"Of course I like her," Malcolm assured him.
The old man closed his eyes, his finger still in place on
Malcolm's torso.
"Sir?" Malcolm asked after several moments had passed, thinking
the man had fallen asleep standing up.
The old eyes snapped open and quickly he removed his hand put on
his glove. "You *do* like her. More than like. Yes, yes. I
see now!" The old gray head nodded up and down.
"Sir?"
"You say that a lot don't you?"
"Excuse me?"
"This 'sir'."
Malcolm shrugged. "Habit and training I'm afraid, and I don't
know your name." The younger man crossed his arms across his
chest. "How should I address you?"
"Oh, you can call me 'San-clus'," he said with a shrug.
"Everyone does."
Malcolm nodded.
"Now tell me, think back, what does this lady like, besides
languages? Maybe she has a hobby? Did she ever mention one?"
"Not that I recall," he said with a shake of his head.
"Are you sure?"
"Well she likes animals," Malcolm replied. "She did become quite
attached to a slug once, and she does seem fond of the Captain's
beagle."
"Maybe something that she mentioned to you once, maybe when you
were um...perhaps dining?" The man's eyes were bright, his mouth
open, waiting for his customer to supply him with the information
he needed.
"Hmmm. Once, when we were eating a meal together, she did
mention that she liked to cook."
"That's it!! The very thing. What you need is a cookbook!" San-
clus waved his arms excitedly and he moved away from Malcolm and
towards the back of the store.
The Brit followed in his wake. "A cookbook, are you sure?" It
didn't seem like much of a gift to him. Not when he wanted to
make sure he was getting her something as special as he felt she
deserved.
"Not just any cookbook, my young man, but a very unique cookbook.
One which she will always treasure."
"But it's just a cookbook, and she's..."
San-clus turned to face the lieutenant, his eyes wide. "Yes?
She's what?"
"Well, she deserves the best."
"And if you get her this book, she'll have the best. Trust me,
I've never steered anyone wrong. I've been in this business for
a very, very long time. Everyone comes back to San-clus and
thanks me for my advice and for the gifts they purchase."
"Well if you insist." Malcolm sounded unsure, but he was
desperate. "Besides, I'm running out of time, I have to be back
on the ship before the next work shift."
The old man continued his trek back through the stacks. "It was
fated that you come here. And here," he pointed up to one of the
shelves above his head, at a old, leather-bound tome. "is the
very book you need and deserve."
"I think you'll need a ladder," Malcolm suggested looking up at
the shelf in question.
"No ladder, I have you, just give me a boost up on your shoulders
and I'll bring it down. I do it all the time."
Malcolm had no option, either let the man crawl up on his
shoulders, or go back to the ship empty handed. Bending down, he
let the man swing one leg over the back of his neck and he stood
up carefully, the man seated on his shoulders, being sure not to
lose his balance.
"Move a little further to your left," San-clus suggested.
"There, just a little bit more, my friend." Placing one hand
against one of the shelves, the old man pulled himself up even
higher. Bracing himself against the bookcase with one hand, he
pulled the large cookbook off the shelf with the other and into
the safety of his arms.
Slowly Malcolm lowered the man and the book to the floor.
Walking back to the front of the store, the Tactical Officer
reached into his pocket so he could pay the man with the local
currency, which had been provided during a trade of cultural data
when the Enterprise crew had first arrived on Xeleedia.
"Keep your money," San-clus insisted with a shake of his head.
"Consider this a gift from me to you." Deftly he tied red twine
around the book before placing the tome inside a pristine white
box. Securing the lid to it with the same red twine, he handed
package to Malcolm.
"But..."
"No, I insist. I should not have laid my skin against your body.
It made for an unfair transaction. If the Ministry of Marketing
were to find out, I could lose my license."
"Excuse me?"
"When I removed my glove and touched you there." The old man
once again touched Malcolm on the chest, but this time with his
glove on. "I could sense your feelings, that was how I knew what
book would be appropriate."
"You read my mind?" Malcolm asked not liking the implications.
"Not really. It's not that complicated. We can't feel anything
specific. I can't see anything technical or what you would deem
perhaps to be a security risk. It's just a sense of what is
right in regards to someone you love. Love knows all." The old
man shook his head. "It's hard to explain to an off-worlder."
"I never said I loved her."
The old man smiled fondly and chuckled. "You didn't have to."
Patting Malcolm on the back, San-clus escorted the Tactical
Officer out of his shop and into the bright sunshine outside.
* * * * * *
"Blimey, I'll never get this right!" Malcolm balled up another
sheet of wrapping paper and tossed it into the recycler. He was
in the process of ripping off another piece from the roll of
brightly colored paper, when he heard his door chime buzz.
Frustrated he dropped the paper and moving to the door pressed
the release button.
"What can I do for... Oh, Ensign Cutler, I'm sorry, I thought it
was..."
"No need to apologize, Lieutenant. I was just checking up that
you are all set for the festivities tonight."
"Well I have the gift, but I'm having a problem wrapping the
bloody thing." He dragged his fingers through his hair. "I can
make a bed in my sleep which can pass military inspection, but
I've never been very good at wrapping presents." He looked down
at the white box on the table as if it were an alien invader.
"Look, I know you have to go on duty shortly, right?"
Malcolm nodded.
"Why don't you give it to me, and I'll wrap it up all pretty and
make sure it's there this evening in time for the party."
"I'd appreciate that, but do you have the time?"
"I'll make the time. Don't worry, I'll take care of everything."
"You're a life saver."
She shook her head. "Naw, I'm just trying to make sure
everything is perfect for tonight. After all this was my idea."
"I just hope Hoshi will like my gift," Malcolm said as he walked
back to the table to pick up the box. "The man at the bookstore
assured me she would, but I don't know. It's just a cookbook."
He passed the package to Liz Cutler along with the wrapping paper
and ribbon.
"It's important to you, isn't it?"
"Excuse me? I don't follow."
"The gift, Lieutenant. It's important to you that she like the
gift."
"Why of course it is. Everyone should receive something they
like, shouldn't they?"
"That's not exactly what I meant. I mean, you are especially
concerned that Hoshi will like what you got her."
He nodded--carefully.
She took a step forward and lowered her voice. "I mean, you care
about her."
"I never said..."
Cutler smiled softly and touched Malcolm's arm with her free
hand. "You didn't need to. You see, I'm very observant."
Malcolm shook his head and turned away from the ensign running
his hand down the back of his neck. "Oh hell, am I that
obvious?"
"Relax, Lieutenant. I'm sure no one else noticed a thing. I
just happen to be rather sensitive to people's feelings. Did you
notice that Chef had his eye on Rebecca Sims in Engineering for
three whole months before he asked her out?"
He turned towards her. "Can't say I have."
"See, I'm pretty good about this stuff. I could also tell you
half a dozen other people on Enterprise who are attracted to
someone else on the ship, but I'm circumspect. I know to keep my
mouth shut about what I see and hear."
"So my secret is safe with you?" Malcolm asked.
Cutler raised her hand. "I promise not to say a word."
"I appreciate that."
With a nod and the box and wrapping paper clutched to her chest,
Liz left the lieutenant's cabin.
Cutler, exited Malcolm's cabin and returned to her own quarters.
Taking the book out of the box, she set it aside with a frown.
"I said I wouldn't *say* anything, Malcolm Reed, but that's all I
promised." Untying the red twice, Liz removed the lid of the box
and removed the cookbook. Reaching under her bed, she withdrew a
large brown rectangular basket. Looking through the contents of
the basket, Liz withdrew the item she'd been searching for. "She
may not like the cookbook, Lt. Reed," she said out loud as she
placed her addition to Hoshi's holiday gift in the bottom of the
box. "But I'll guarantee she'll like this." Putting the
cookbook on top of her addition to Malcolm's gift, she replaced
the box lid, retied the twine, and began to wrap it.
* * * * * * *
Malcolm was late for the party. Upon arrival he noticed that
food had been served, drinks poured, and the gift giving was
already underway.
Cutler, upon noticing his entrance, immediately went to his side
and passed him a glass of champagne. In keeping with the holiday
spirit, she was dressed in a red skirt with a red and white
snowflake print top. "We couldn't wait any longer to exchange
gifts," she explained to him. "But you haven't missed much."
Malcolm thanked her for the drink and took a sip. "I got delayed
in the armory. Couldn't get the torpedo array aligned."
"Well, I've saved you a seat." Cutler led him over to the other
side of the room where there was a vacant seat beside Hoshi and
next to the rest of the senior staff.
Looking at Cutler he accused her silently of planning the seating
arrangement.
"Glad you could join us, Malcolm," Archer said breaking the
lieutenant's thought.
The tactical officer noted that Archer was seated between T'Pol
and Trip, with Porthos laying on the floor by his feet. "Sorry,
I'm late, Sir, but I had to tend to something in the Armory."
"Well yer here now," Trip said. "Have a seat. We are about to
see what the Ensign Calloway got T'Pol."
Malcolm nodded to his friend, and looking at Hoshi, took his seat
beside her. He made note of the communication officer's bright
blue pant suit and how it complimented her. She looked stunning.
"May I ask what purpose the wrapping of the gifts serves?" T'Pol
asked the Captain as he deposited the package onto T'Pol's lap.
"It seems a waste of resources to cover something and then just
throw it away."
"It's suppose to delay the suspense," Trip explained before
Archer could reply. The engineer, his gift of alien cheese
clutched in his hands, leaned forward so he could see what item
Calloway had selected for the Vulcan. "So you don't see the gift
itself until the last possible minute. So whatcha waiting for?
Open it up?"
"Why do you care what someone has given me?"
"It's just part of the fun. It's kinda nice to see the look on
someone's face when they get something they like. Or try and
look like they like a gift when inside really they don't like it
at all."
Malcolm wondered if he was referring to the cheese.
T'Pol raised one eyebrow and carefully peeled the tape away from
the square package.
"You know, it works out better if you just tear it off," Trip
suggested. He reached over to demonstrate.
T'Pol batted the engineer's helpful hand away. "If I must
participate in this 'tradition' Commander, I prefer to remove the
paper in my own way." She looked pointedly at the engineer.
"Well of course. Just trying to help," he said with a shrug of
apology.
Turning back to her task, the Vulcan pulled away the green and
blue paper to reveal a white box. Lifting the lid off, she
looked inside, pulled out a square white piece of material, and
held it up for all to see. "It is a piece of cloth."
"I think that's suppose to be a handkerchief," Trip said.
"Actually to be more precise, a white lace,
embroidered...um...hankie."
"A hankie?"
"It's for, you know blowing your nose, wiping away tears," Trip
explained. "My grandmother always told my sisters that a lady
never left home without a clean hankie."
"I will endeavor to remember that. Since I don't cry and seldom
have to remove bodily fluids from my nasal cavities, perhaps I
can use them to kneel on when I meditate."
"See, now you're thinking!" Trip grinned broadly.
T'Pol glared.
Ensign Cutler smiled and clapped her hands together to break the
tension. "Now who's next?" She looked over the boxes which had
been placed on a large table and selected one. "This one says to
Porthos from Crewman Dale Swartz." Liz knelt down beside the dog
and let Porthos sniff at the present, then she passed the gift to
the Captain.
"Porthos, you must have been a good dog, to have gotten a
present," Archer said and beckoned the dog to place his paws on
his lap with a pat on his thigh.
Porthos looked intently the package. His nose twitched trying to
smell the contents while his tail wagged happily. Soon Porthos'
Papa uncovered a blue and red ball, and the dog's tail wagged
even faster.
"If you shake it, Captain, it makes a noise." Crewman Swartz
said from her position across the room.
Archer shook the toy and a squeaking sound could be heard and he
grinned.
"And it's non-toxic, safe for dogs. I checked it out with Doctor
Phlox and everything!" Dale added.
Porthos reached for the toy with his mouth. Archer teased him
with it a short while before he finally let the dog have it.
"I'm sure Porthos will enjoy playing with it," he assured the
petite blonde woman. "If he could, he'd thank you himself. As
he
can't, I'll thank you for him." Archer, with a broad grin on his
face, looked down affectionately at his pet and scratched
Porthos' head. "Good, boy."
Crewman Swartz smiled with satisfaction as Porthos lay back down
beside the captain and chewed on his present.
"Ah, I guess we need another present." Cutler passed out another
gift, which was followed by another until only two more presents
remained on the table.
Selecting the large flat one first, she passed it to Malcolm.
"Happy Holidays, Malcolm," Liz said.
The Brit took the package, and opening the tag saw that it was
from Hoshi. Looking at the communications officer, he smiled.
"You shouldn't have gone to the trouble," he said.
"Believe me, it was my pleasure," Hoshi assured him. "Come on
open it, I want to see if you like it."
Malcolm smiled nervously, being self-conscious with everyone
looking at him, and tore off the wrapping paper to reveal a
framed picture underneath.
Looking it over closely, he admired the craftsmanship. He made
note of the man and the woman in the picture and how they bore
some resemblance to he and Hoshi. "It's beautiful," he finally
said.
"When I found it, I knew I had to get it for you," Hoshi
explained. "The artist told me it was based on some old
Xeleedian folklore. See," she pointed at a figure in the
picture, "this is a Xeleedian knight and behind him is his lady.
In his hand is a sword and he's trying to protect his lady from
the...well I guess it's some type of alien dragon."
The tactical officer continued to examine his gift and gently ran
his fingers over the surface to feel the surface of the picture.
"They create these pictures by embedding different minerals into
a metal plate. When it is heated, only then are the colors are
revealed," she explained.
"It's a true work of art," Malcolm declared clearly impressed.
"When the Suliban boarded the ship about six months ago, I had to
go to your cabin, remember?"
He nodded, how could he forget.
"When I was there, I noticed that walls of your cabin were rather
bare."
And I noticed you were rather bare, he thought. It wasn't every
day a beautiful woman showed up at his door half naked.
Actually, it had never happened to him before.
"It's lovely. I'll treasure it always."
"I'm so glad you like it" Hoshi smiled warmly. "I was a little
worried, you might not care for it."
Malcolm smiled at her allaying her fears.
"And the last gift, for Hoshi Sato," Cutler declared and dropped
the heavy rectangular package into Hoshi's hands. Looking at
Malcolm, Liz winked at the lieutenant.
"Oh, it's heavy," Hoshi noted and then looked at the gift tag.
"Oh, Malcolm, imagine us both drawing the other's name!"
Malcolm stole a look at Liz Cutler. Liz looked back, her lips
curled up ever so slightly. So it wasn't an accident! They'd
been set up by an expert!
Looking back at Hoshi, Malcolm saw that she had taken off the
carefully applied wrapping paper, untied the twine, and was now
removing the lid on the box.
"Oh, it's a book!" she exclaimed.
"Actually it's a cookbook," Malcolm said. "If I remember
correctly, you once told me you liked to cook."
Hoshi giggled and pushing the red twine which was still
encircling the cookbook, looked at the book's title. "Oh, I do,
but this book isn't your ordinary cookbook. Malcolm, do you know
what you purchased? Oh this is just too precious!"
"It's a Xeleedian cookbook. The shopkeeper recommended it
himself."
"Well I've been studying their language since we got here. The
title says: A Sensual Cookbook: Everything You Need to Know to
Prepare a Meal to Catch the Man of Your Dreams."
Malcolm dropped his head in his hands. He could feel his face was
flushed from embarrassment.
Hoshi removed the twine and picking up the book began to thumb
through the pages. "Oh my, did you know it was illustrated!?"
"I didn't have time to look inside the book," Malcolm said, his
words were muffled by his hands.
"My god, Malcolm, these people must be double-jointed! This is
something I'll have to read in more detail. Strictly in terms of
cultural understanding, of course."
The Brit groaned, and snickering could be heard throughout the
room.
Hoshi retied the twine around the book and started to place the
book back in the box when she noticed some white fabric that had
been placed beneath the cookbook. Tucking the book under her
arm, she withdrew the white material. Holding it up, she could
see it was a long white negligee made of a very fine white fabric
which was almost see-through with delicate soft pink embroidery
decorating the low neckline. Her mouth formed an 'O' as she
admired the nightgown.
"Ah, gee Malcolm, I always thought you'd be one who'd like his
woman dressed in leather," Trip snickered.
"I didn't...I don't know how...I'm so sorry..." Malcolm muttered,
his face still buried in his hands. He prayed when he looked up
he'd find this had been all a dream.
"Don't listen to Trip, Malcolm," Hoshi placed a hand on his
shoulder. "I think it's beautiful."
"I'll get you something else as soon as I can," Malcolm vowed.
He removed his hands from his face but he refused to look at the
other people in the room, instead choosing to focus his gaze on
the floor. "Anything you want." *Just please let me go back to
my quarters and die. Well after I lock Cutler in her cabin for
the duration of this voyage.*
Leaning toward the Brit, Hoshi placed a soft kiss on his cheek,
but before she moved back, she whispered in his ear. "Anything I
want, Malcolm?"
"Anything, Hoshi," he whispered.
"My place, midnight, and don't be late."
The End
Comments are always appreciated. Please reply to this post, or
email me at kelhapam@metrocast.net