The Mess Hall at 10:00 p.m. would be a lonely place to many, but Jonathan Archer sometimes found it "a nice change of pace."He was reviewing the day in his mind, when the door swooshed open.
"I'm sorry, Captain," Malcolm said, as Jonathan turned around. "I'm intruding on your thoughts. I'll just leave, then, shall I?"
"No. Please join me," the Captain invitingly pulled out a chair.
Malcolm hesitated, rocking from one foot to the other.
"Malcolm, I'm inviting you politely. Don't make me insist." He smiled, letting his security officer know his company would be welcome.
"Well, if you put it that way, sir. Would you mind, then, if I first put on a pot of tea?"
"Not at all. I'd like a cup, myself, if it's not too much trouble."
"Certainly, sir. I find a little Darjeeling goes well with me in the evening. My Aunt Sherrie, though, oooh, she would be up all night."
"That teapot. That was a going-away present from her, wasn't it?"
"Mmm ... you've guessed well, Captain. I'm grateful you approved the special installation." A minute later, "Here you are, then. It brews rather quickly." He set both cups down, and took his chair.
"Hot." The Captain burned his lips, just as the door swooshed open, again.
"Hoshi," the Captain addressed. "What brings you down here so late?"
"Well, you know," Hoshi sighed. "When the crew has any downtime, I get rather busy. I've just finished posting I don't know how many letters to home. So, what's going on, here?"
"Malcolm's hosting a little tea party. Care to join us?" the Captain asked. "Malcolm?"
Malcolm rose from his chair to fill another cup. "Do you prefer Darjeeling? Or, perhaps, a little Earl Grey?"
"Anything will be fine, thanks. Will you guys excuse me a minute? I'll be right back." With that, she hurried out of the room, only to bump into Trip.
"You guys havin' a party without me? Now, that's jus' plain rude."
"Come on in, Trip," the Captain gave him an encompassing wave of an arm.
"Darjeeling or Earl Grey?," Malcolm asked.
"Huh? Don't you ever drink coffee?"
"Philistine. Go make it yourself, then."
Hoshi was heading back to the Mess Hall, carrying a tray. She walked in the door, and took a sudden stop. "My God, I was only gone ten minutes. How did you all multiply like a bunch of rabbits?"
She counted heads: in addition to the three she had left, Travis and Phlox had joined the group. "I was saving these for tomorrow, but I can always bake more." With that she uncovered the tray.
"Biscuits! I love biscuits," Malcolm said.
"They're called cookies," Trip interjected.
"They're called tarts," Hoshi settled the question. "Strawberry tarts."
Once more the door swooshed open. T'Pol entered, looked around and turned to walk to the beverage dispenser. "Mint tea. Hot."
The rest of the group was silent, while T'Pol's beverage poured into her cup. When she turned to leave the room, the Captain called out, "Where are you going, Subcommander? The party's over here."
T'Pol answered, "I assumed it was a private party."
"It is, and you're invited. Now, have a seat, and that's an order."
"Mmm ... strawberry," Malcolm muttered between bites. "Reminds me of a dream I once had. Instead of the Queen of Hearts, I encountered the Queen of Strawberries. Delicious."
"The Queen or the Strawberries?," Trip couldn't resist asking.
"Mista' Tucka'," Malcolm was appalled. "There are ladies present."
"Oh, and like I don't know what you two talk about when you think no one is listening?" Hoshi bit into her own tart. "Seven-year mating cycles, and ..." She stopped short, just realizing that T'Pol was present.
"Ah, yes," Phlox put in, "the seven-year mating cycle of the Denobulan dragon. It makes their eggs very rare and valuable, you know."
Malcolm leaned over, and whispered something into Trip's ear.
"I knew it was the Queen," Trip said aloud, making Malcolm give him a hard shove.
"A toast," Travis said, raising his cup. "To this tea party, and to our host, Queen Malcolm."
All heads swiveled in Travis's direction.
"What?," he demanded. "Don't I ever get to say a word?"