"Whatcha reading, Hoshi?"The linguist looked up as Trip and Malcolm dropped into chairs at the table, their lunch trays in their hands. "It's an essay a colleague of mine back on Earth wrote, about how some things, in a cultural linguistic sense, are pretty much universal among species, even without contact among them."
Malcolm looked up from the food he was pushing around on his plate - Chef was in a southern mood this week and the Brit wasn't sure what to make of chicken fried steak with cream gravy - and smiled at Hoshi. "So, what is universal?"
"Titles."
"Titles?" Trip asked around a mouthful of his chicken fried steak. He swallowed. "What sort of titles?"
"Well, military titles, status titles, caste titles, religious titles. Every society has words to describe where a person stands within that society - at least one word if not more to describe someone. Sometimes they depend on who is doing the describing." Hoshi pushed her tray away, warming to her topic. Malcolm and Trip exchanged amused glances at the emergence of Professor Sato. "For example - Malcolm here is 'Lieutenant' in a military title, 'friend' to some of us when off duty, 'son' and 'brother' in a familial setting, 'Honored Reed' to the aliens last week, and even 'that mad, paranoid tactical officer' when some of us feel like playing with fire."
Malcolm shot her a glance. "I think you'd better reserve that last title for when you are absolutely convinced I'm not armed, Ensign."
Hoshi smiled. "Will do, Sir."
"There's another title to add, Hosh. 'Sir' when being spoken to by a subordinate officer."
She nodded. "Exactly, Commander. We haven't run into a society yet that doesn't have these words - from Vulcans to Klingons to Andorians." She sighed happily. "It's rather nice to realize that we have something in common with all these species, no matter how strained relations are between us."
"Huh. Hadn't thought of it that way, but you're right, Hosh. Maybe one day we'll all end up one big happy allied family."
Malcolm frowned. "Hopefully not too happy, I do need a job, you know."
Hoshi and Trip looked at each other and giggled. "Mad, paranoid tactical officer," they said in unison before dissolving into laughter. After a few moments of glaring, Malcolm gave up and chuckled as well.
"Hey, Malcolm?"
"Hm?"
"I think Hoshi left a few words off that list of hers."
Malcolm looked up from the padd he was reading. "What list?"
"Of your titles."
Malcolm frowned. "Like what?"
Trip smiled. "Oh, titles like 'darling', 'hon', 'lover', . . . 'beloved'."
Malcolm's frown turned into the smile he reserved for Trip as he set the padd down and stroked light fingers over his lover's face. "Now those are titles that mean more to me than any other ever bestowed."
Trip's face lit up and he kissed Malcolm deeply. "I think there's another we could add to that list, though."
"What’s that?" Malcolm asked with an indulgent grin.
"Husband."
Malcolm paused, searching Trip's eyes and seeing only serious intentions reflected in them. Another smile graced the man's face as he spoke. "I would be most honored to receive that title from you, if I can return the favor."
The joy in Trip's kiss was all the answer Malcolm needed.