Title: Misconstrued

Author: Joules Mer

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

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

Date: Nov. 29, 2003

Archive: Permission to archive granted to EntSTCommunity and BLTS.  Anyone else ask me.

Fandom: Star Trek Enterprise

Category: Slash

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: T/R implied (kinda)

Summary: Jon eyed his communicator in disbelief as he coughed and spluttered.

Beta: None

Spoilers: none

Disclaimer: Enterprise is the property of Paramount.  No profit was made, no copyright infringement is intended

Author's notes:  This one is for Qzee who posted 10 lines that sound dirty in golf (but aren't).  Hope you enjoy it.


    "Hold up...I need to wash my balls first!"

    The mouthful of water spewed out from between his lips as he started at the unexpected words.  Jon eyed his communicator in disbelief as he coughed and spluttered.

    "Fine, but you'd better hurry up.  I don't feel like waiting for something trivial like that."  The clipped tones of his armoury officer had Jon's eyes opening wide in astonishment.  He picked up the offending device and examined it, trying to figure out what on earth was going on.  Suddenly, it hit him.  A few months ago they'd jury-rigged a communicator to act as surveillance equipment.  While on an away mission a science team had been kidnapped by "radical separatists" demanding phase cannon technology.  The Tisaran government had initially tried to resolve the situation, but eventually told Jon that he should capitulate to the demands.  At the time the governor's behaviour had seemed suspicious so Trip had rigged the communicator and conveniently "forgotten" it in the governor's offices.  It had worked perfectly, broadcasting all conversation to Malcolm and T'Pol who had been hiding some distance away.  It had turned out that the "radical separatists" had been the governor's own men acting on his orders.  The situation had been peacefully resolved when they confronted the governor, and everyone had forgotten about it.  Until now.

    "Don't get your boxers in a twist just because you haven't done this before.  With me guiding you, you'll do fine."

    "So you keep assuring me.  Hurry up and show me what to do, I don't want anyone to see us."

    "Relax, Malcolm, no one will be here this early."

    Jon flushed in embarrassment at what he was hearing and tried to figure out how to stop the flood of sound.  The device seemed to be broadcasting even though it was still closed so Jon gave up and tried to bury it deep within his backpack.  At least he was probably the only one hearing this.  The communicator had been rigged to broadcast with a relatively short range as they'd known that the Tisaran's had been monitoring communication between Enterprise and their planet.  How it hadn't been fixed, and how Trip had wound up in possession of it for the away mission, Jon didn't know.

    "Why don't you take that off, you'll be able to move easier."  Trip's voice was barely muffled by the fabric of the bag.

    There was a pause as Malcolm presumably removed something before his voice was heard.  "My hands are so sweaty I can't get a good grip."

    "It is a bit hot to be doing this outside, but we don't really have a choice.  Just try anyway, slowly and gently."  
    Jon's face burned bright red as he hurriedly dug through the bag, a new urgency in his actions.  There are some things people just don't want to hear their friends do.

    "Very good!  Nice stroke."  Excitement was plainly heard in Trip's tone.  Malcolm made some sort of indistinct noise and Trip continued, "Keep your head down and spread your legs a bit more."

    Suddenly, a new voice issued from the device clasped tightly in his sweaty palm, "Mind if I join you and make it a threesome?"

    "The more the merrier, it's always fun to..."  What ever Trip always enjoyed doing was cut off as Jon's communicator flew in a graceful arc before landing with a splash in the lake.  Ripples spreading out in an ever widening circle brought with them an almost complete silence broken only by the whirr of insects.  Jon sank back down to sit on the short "grass" that covered the planet and breathed a sigh of relief.  He could finally relax.  

    Ten kilometres away the first Annual Enterprise Pitch and Putt Tournament was just beginning.  A detail that Jon had somehow forgotten.