Grounded || asklieutenantreed + asktriptucker
asklieutenantreed asked:
"My mum gave me a rose because she felt sorry for me." See, look-- his memory is just fine, even after that bastard punched him in the eye. Even if there are two of Trip...
asktriptucker answered:
Trip staggered a pace under the weight of Malcolm, one arm round his shoulder and the other braced across the man’s chest to keep him from pitching forward as they exited the tavern. There was a rising cacophony of alien slurs and threats that cut out as the door sealed behind them. Making friends, as usual. "That was awful kind’o her. Nice lady." He patted Malcolm’s chest and then, looking tragically put-upon, lead his friend to where the smooth wall of the alien establishment met alien back-alley. He sat Malcolm down on an over-turned silver cargo container and fished out his communicator, putting his back to the lieutenant. "Tucker to Enterprise." He worried at his lower lip and shifted his weight to one leg, hand on hip. The communicator crackled and hissed, but there was no reply. "Enterprise, do you read? We’ve had a minor disagreement with the locals. Things got a might colorful down here, an’.." He glanced at Malcolm, who was developing a garish purple shiner. "Lieutenant Reed may require medical assistance." Or maybe just a frozen rib-eye. Still no response. Damn. Had to be the storm. His boots crunched against freezing ground as he returned to Malcolm and crouched aside him. “Let me see yer communicator. I wanna make sure mine weren’t damaged when that big fella threw me over the bar…”
Malcolm smiled at Trip, though it made the side of his face ache a bit, through the resilient haze of alcohol. He let his friend half drag him into the alley, let himself he sat down, even nodded congenially enough to whatever Trip was on about-- and when Trip crouched down, Malcolm grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, still smiling.
"Whaddid you say 'bout my mum?"