Title: Foiled

Author: Joules Mer

Author's e-mail: julia_ocean_child@yahoo.co.uk

Author's URL: http://jmenterprise.popullus.net

Date: Posted to EntSTSlash 03/20/2004

Archive: Permission to archive granted to EntSTCommunity and BLTS.  All others ask me.

Fandom: Star Trek Enterprise

Category: Slash

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: T/R

Summary:  Just a short bit of silliness.

Series:  None

Beta: None

Spoilers: none

Disclaimer: Enterprise is the property of Paramount.  No profit was, or will be, made by this story.

A/N: Written for a lark during the men's epee world cup.

    "Here, I'll hold it and you step through it.  No, no, other way around.  It ties up at the back."  Malcolm tied the white tapes in a firm bow.  "Too tight?  Good."  He grabbed the other jacket and performed the same operation on himself, tying a bow at his side with practised ease.  "Now, you hold it like this, right, not too tight though."  He picked up his own blade and demonstrated, "It's a foil, a thrusting weapon.  Essentially, you're trying to stab me.  Not only does slashing not count for points, but it's bad form, so don't do it.  The right of way rule is a bit tricky so I'll just say that if I'm straightening my arm on the attack you can't just stab me, you have to parry first.  Target is torso and groin."

    "Groin!"  There was shock and just the tiniest bit of fear in the indignant tone.

    "Yes, groin.  Now put your mask on and get in the stance I showed you."  Malcolm assumed an en garde stance which Trip attempted to mimic.  "Move your elbow towards me a bit, and move your arm to the right so your back isn't exposed.  Good.  Now try a lunge."


    There was another clashing noise, but Jon's head didn't waver from the padd he was watching.  "Miss again?"

    "Yeah."  Travis panted slightly from the stationary bicycle next to the captain's, "Malcolm parried and then stabbed Trip in the chest."  There was another scraping clashing noise, "Same thing again."  Travis watched the men at the far end of the gym for a moment longer before he commented, "I was quite surprised when Rostov found that gear in a cargo bay."

    "Admiral Anderson's doing."


    "He was a fencer, used to talk about it all the time.  He'd always boasted that no expense was spared outfitting Enterprise.  I think now I believe him."

    There was another scrape and Travis winced, "I think Trip is getting frustrated, he's getting really sloppy."

    "Has he hit Malcolm yet?"


    Jon chucked as best as he could while pedalling, "I guess Malcolm's little 'I was in the fencing club for a bit at university' was an understatement then."

    Travis just shook his head as Malcolm got another touch, "I don't know, sir, he does pick up anything to do with weapons remarkably quickly."


    A sudden cry and the clatter of a dropped foil had Jon looking to see the cause of the disturbance.  Malcolm's foil and mask were on the ground and he was doubled over, staggering slightly.  As Jon watched, Trip pulled of his mask, the look of horror on the other man's face convincing him something was truly wrong.  

    He leapt off the bike and hurried over to the fencers, Travis following suit.  "Malcolm!  Are you okay?"  Malcolm's face was scrunched into a pained grimace and he didn't answer his captain's query.  Since there didn't appear to be any blood marring the white jacket Jon turned his attention back to the man who was likely the guilty party.  "Trip!  What happened?"

    Trip's face was a study in horror and no small amount of fear, "I'm so sorry!  I didn't mean to do that, I swear.  It was an accident."

    Frustrated and worried Jon grabbed Malcolm by the elbow.  "Lieutenant!  Are you alright or do you need me to get Phlox?"

    Malcolm straightened slightly and looked up at his captain with a red face, "I'm fine, sir.  I always wanted to be castrated."

    There was a stunned moment of silence which was finally broken by an uncontrollable bark of laughter from Travis.  It was infectious and soon both Jon and Travis were howling away while Malcolm glared at them from where he was leaning against a wall.  Trip no longer looked horrified.  Instead, he'd taken on the grim visage of a man whose partner wasn't about to have sex with him for quite some time.