Distractions And How To Deal With Them

By: Thought

Disclaimer: Do you think they're mine?! (Songs belong to Tori Amos, Alanis Morissette, Type O Negative.

Summary: Beka and Rev try to get rid of Dylan. It doesn't work. Tyr and Rommie have a better idea. Beka hates Wednesdays.

A/N: I met Lisa Ryder. I'm sorry, I just had to say that.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Actually, it was just the worst of times, and not particularly as bad as it could have been, so in all honesty, Beka Valentine thought to herself, she didn't have any reason to complain. She hit her head on the edge of the panel as she scrambled to her feet, and decided that she'd complain, anyway.

"Harper!" There was no answer. She hadn't expected one, to be truthful, but she was entitled to a little optamism after the last six days, wasn't she? The nanowelder she had been holding suddenly sparked, and came to life, badly scortching her hand.

"Damnit!" she swore, dropping the tool and sticking the burned fingers into her mouth. "Hey, Trance?!" No answer.

So much for optamism.

Rev stuck his head in the doors, his eyes flicking from the repaired panel, to the now silent nanowelder, and finally to Beka. "Hard day?"

"I hope you go to hell," she muttered. "Doesn't Harper keep a medkit in here?"

Rev entered the room fully, walking past her to a low table which Beka hadn't noticed. "Why is there a table in my engine room?" she asked, eyebrows shooting up. Silently, Rev handed her a little black medkit. "...Oh."

"What happened?" asked Rev, again giving the nanowelder on the floor a curious look.

"It activated by itself, I swear," Beka said as she pressed a painkiller into her arm.

"Mmhm," Rev didn't look quite sure of that. Beka sighed.

"Mind telling me why the two of you are here instead of on the Andromeda repairing her systems?" Dylan. Beka didn't want to deal with Dylan just then. As a matter-of-fact, she didn't really want to have to ever deal with him again.

"Excuse me," he waved his hands to get their attention. Beka turned around and pressed play on her music player. She wasn't sure, but she thought she saw Rev smirk.

God sometimes you just don't come through

God sometimes you just don't come through

Do you need a woman to look after you

God sometimes you just don't come through

She was reminded strongly of Harper's first description of Dylan. "He's like some kind of Greek god or something!" She couldn't keep a straight face as the song continued. She sang along, tossing unnoticed glances at Dylan to gage his reaction.

"You make pretty daisies pretty daisies love

I gotta find what you're doing about things here

a few witches burning gets a little toasty here

I gotta find why you always go when the wind blows

tell me you're crazy maybe then I'll understand

you got your 9 iron in the back seat just in case

heard you've gone south well babe you love your new 4 wheel

I gotta find why you always go when the wind blows..."

He didn't get it. She sighed, unimpressed. "Go away, Dylan," she said dully, gesturing at the doors with one hand. He didn't move.

"give not thy strength unto women

nor thy ways to that which destroyeth kings

Will you even tell her if you decide to make the sky fall

will you even tell her if you decide to make the sky

God sometimes you just don't come through

God sometimes you just don't come through

Do you need a woman to look after you

God sometimes you just don't come through."

Rev got it. Good for him, at least she knew she wasn't completely insane. Dylan still looked angry, and she wondered suddenly if he had even heard the song.

"Andromeda needs repairs much more than the Maru, right now," he said.

"Go away, Dylan," Beka repeated.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, Captain Valentine," he snapped.

"Ok," she shrugged. The next song began playing on the music player. She arched an eyebrow, and wondered just how their good little High-Guard captain would react to this. She continued working, carefully adjusting a frequency modulator for the communications systems. Rev twisted a knob on the air recyclers, and she heard the hiss of vents releasing carbon dioxide into the filters. Dylan still hadn't left. He was staring at them, tapping his foot impatiently. Why, she wondered, does he think that just because his ship is bigger and more powerful, that it can be put above my baby on the list of things to fix before we're all blown up?

She had to get him out of her engine room, off of her ship and out of her life. The first two just might be possible. The third was impossible, because the universe loved Dylan Hunt, and there was nothing that she could do about it.

"Rev," she said loudly. "How long until we have to flood the engine room with radiation?"

Rev, wonderful man that he was, got it right away. "About a minute and a half," he told her, keeping a completely straight face as he spoke.

"Well, I've got my anti-radiation gear ready, how about you?"


"Hmm, shame we've only got two sets...Pretty deadly that radiation," she smirked. Dylan didn't move.

Beka clenched her teeth, and kept trying to ignore him, singing along with the music again.

"No I ain't hinting for sympathy

I'm used to dealing with apathy

The scars on my wrists may seem like a crime

Just wish me better luck next time

So what if I died a thousand deaths

You think I'm insane but I have no regrets

One more time won't matter no question

Suicide is self expression."

She saw Dylan wince. Then she remembered that she had been trying to ignore Dylan, and promptly went back to the task. Three minutes, forty-two seconds later, Dylan still hadn't left. Beka ignored him. She handed Rev a bottle of water one minute, twenty-one seconds later, and resolved to stop watching the clock. Two minutes, eight seconds later, Dylan strode forward and grabbed the tools from their hands.

"Andromeda. Now." The steel in his voice made Beka think of Harper's Greek god comment, and she broke down in laughter. Now Dylan was furious.

However, before Dylan could start in on his lecture, Beka reached over and cranked up the volume on her player. Then, she wished she hadn't.

Dear self-centered boy I don't know why I still feel affected by you

I've never lasted very long with someone like you

I never did although I have to admit I wanted to

Dear magnetic boy you've never been with anyone who doesn't take your shit

You've never been with anyone who's dared to call you on it

I wonder how you'd be if someone were to call you on it...

Her hand shot out, twisting the volume back down to a very, very quiet level. She glanced at the other two, but neither seemed to have interpreted the song as she had, and she thanked the Divine for that.

"If you're quite done with your little temper tantrum?" Dylan asked mildly. Beka's eyes flashed fire.

"Captain Hunt," came a voice from the door. Rommie stood in the doorway, watching the three of them curiously. "I need your help." Quickly, Dylan moved over to Rommie, smiling at her.

"What can I help you with?" he asked, gently guiding her out of the room. Beka stared at the retreating pair.

"Do not be angry with him, Beka," Rev told her softly. "He means well."

Beka snorted, and turned back to what she had been doing. She blinked, before realizing one very important fact. "He took our stuff! She exclaimed indignantly, waving her empty hands.

"This 'stuff'?" came an amused voice from right behind Beka. She jumped, eyes going wide.

"Tyr!" she hissed, obviously shocked. "What are you doing here?!"

The larger man shrugged, handing Rev and Beka their kidnapped tools, and going to lounge against a wall nearby. "Everyone on the Andromeda was being frustratingly simple-minded," he said. "Well, more so than usual."

"And you thought we'd be better company?" asked Beka dryly.

He shrugged. "At least neither of you babble incessantly about unimportant and trivial matters while you work."

Beka sighed, and waved him over. "Well, if you're going to be here, you're going to help with the work." Tyr moved over, accepting the case of parts Beka handed him.

Two minutes, twenty-six seconds later, Tyr broke the silence. "One of us needs to kill Captain Hunt."

Beka's mind didn't quite grasp what the larger man had said. "Uh huh?" She shrugged. It took fifteen seconds for her mind to register what Tyr had said.

She jerked up, as if slapped, her water bottle falling from her hand to splash on the floor. "We need to what?!"

Tyr smirked, continuing to make repairs as he spoke. "He is becoming weak. He is becoming too forgiving, and too naïve. I believe that we have played along with this little game of his for long enough, and it is time to return to the real world."

Beka blinked. "Um..."

"An accident could very easily happen, involving our dear captain," Tyr went on. "Admittedly, Andromeda would not be happy with the change in command, however I believe that she would be able to adapt."

"Ok, ok," Beka took a deep breath. "You want to kill Dylan."

"Yes," Tyr nodded.

"Where did the sudden change of heart come from?" asked Rev casually.

"Huh?" Beka looked even more confused.

"Tyr was intending to wait for at least three more months before doing anything about Dylan," said Rev, disapproval clear in his voice.

"Of course," Tyr sneered, "You are still against it."

Rev nodded. "Of course."

Beka spun to look at Rev. "You...I mean, I knew Tyr wanted to kill...but I didn't...I mean, you guys aren't serious?!"

Tyr rose from where he was kneeling on the floor, and stared down at her. Suddenly, Beka Valentine felt very small. She didn't like feeling small, and especially not in front of Tyr. Tyr would probably kill her. Or at least, he'd threaten to kill her, or kill someone very, very close to her. Which would be...Harper? Or Rev or Trance or Rommie or Rafe who was not close to her and therefore was in absolutely no danger. Damn him.

"You could be a player in history, Rebecca," he told her softly, pressing a pistol that he had pulled out from somewhere into her hand. "Or, you could be just another name on the death records."

Her hand closed around the gun. "You're insane," she told him quietly.

Tyr's face showed only boredom. "Maybe," he obviously didn't care if she was right. "However, that does not change the fact that Captain Hunt has to be dealt with."

"Who else is in on this?" demanded Beka. She could handle if Harper was in on it. Hell, she wouldn't be very surprised if he were. But Trance, or Rommie? The fact that Rev had been privy to information that she had not already pissed her off. If she found out that Tyr had been piloting her crew's minds with violent thoughts, she would have to kill him. Not that her crew didn't have violent thoughts. Rommie was the embodiment of a warship, for God's sake! But then again, Rommie wasn't technically part of her crew, so the thing about having no violent thoughts was at least true for Trance. Or at least, she thought it was. For all she knew about the girl, she could be a murderer, just waiting to find a way to kill them all. Those thoughts were really, really depressing.

"Well, soon everyone of this pathetic little crew, if everything goes according to plan," Tyr informed her.

"Things never go according to plan, Tyr," said Rev impatiently. He had a point, Beka conceded. Rev had been with her from the beginning, long before Bobby left, and in all of that time, nothing they had done had gone according to plan. It had gotten worse when Harper was brought aboard, and slightly better when Trance came aboard. And Beka wasn't quite sure if they'd all still be alive if it weren't for Trance. After the job to protect the Lady Kathryn, and Fred's subsequent death, Beka had been almost sure that things would only get worse, and everyone she loved would wind up dead. But then Trance came aboard, though Beka's memory of that event was still a little foggy from being unconscious and bleeding everywhere at the time. But Trance said that she had let her stay, and Beka trusted Trance. She had to, or she'd be too paranoid for her own good. Not that Tyr didn't help in that category quite enough for two people. And if Dylan gave her one more thinly veiled hint that he wanted her, she was going to start locking herself in the Maru. She'd get Harper to change the codes. Maybe. If Harper let his crush on Dylan get in the way of his admittedly skewed moral judgment, he might let Captain Terrific in. And that would be a bad thing, because one of them would come out of the encounter dead. It dawned on Beka that Tyr hadn't answered her question.

"You didn't answer my question," Beka accused him.

"No, I didn't," Tyr responded. God damned egotistical, self-centered, mysterious, murdering Nietzschean.

She looked up from her contemplation of the gun when the doors opened again. Harper and Rommie entered, both speaking excitedly together. Harper glanced up, and the smile fell from his face almost immediately. "Um, if we're here at a bad time?"

"You are," Tyr said shortly. "Go bother someone else, somewhere else boy."

Harper nodded quickly. "Right...going off to bother now...not that I do bother people, because I don't, you know?!"

Tyr glanced at Rommie, who tossed a small vile towards him. He caught it, nodding imperceptibly to the avatar.

When Harper and Rommie had left, Beka pointed to the vile. "What the hell is that?" she asked shortly.

Tyr smirked. "Poison. When I said Andromeda would not like our idea, I do not recall saying anything about her avitar."

Beka could feel the taste of bile rising in the back of her throat. "Dylan's a good man. He doesn't deserve to die."

Tyr stared coolly at her. "Allow me to ask you that again in two, maybe three weeks after he has gotten us into another near-death experience."

Ok, so maybe Dylan deserved...something. Not death....at least not at that moment. He did need a good slap across the face, but Beka was willing to leave that up to Rommie. Because the image of Tyr slapping Dylan would be twisted by the part of her brain that Harper had taken over, and she didn't want anything like that floating around in her head.

"This," Beka decided, tucking the gun into her waistband, "Is way too surreal for my brain to handle right now. Just get one thing straight, Tyr. From that first time in the observation lounge when Dylan asked us to join him, you have been a part of my crew. If we are going to kill Dylan, then we do it when and how I say. Clear?"

"As a bell." Tyr's fingers brushed across the back of her neck as he walked passed, and his gaze lingered on her as he left the Maru.

The music came back on. God, she hated Wednesdays.

"I think it's perfectly clear

we're in the wrong band

Ginger is always sincere

just not to one man

she called me up and she said

you know that I'm drowning

it's the dog trainer again

he says that he thinks that she needs more hands

I think it's perfectly clear

we're in the wrong band

Senator let's be sincere

as much as we can

he called her up and he said

the new prosecutor soon will be wanting a word

so she's got a soft spot for heels and spurs

and there's something believin in' her voice again

said there's something to believe in

instead of just leavin'

And she gets her cigars from the sweet fat man

I think it's perfectly clear

we're in the wrong band

Heidi says she'll be sincere

as much as she can

I called her up and I said

you know that I'm drowning

put on your raincoat again

cause even the sun's got a price on it

and there's something believin' in her voice again

said there's something believin' in her voice

instead of just leavin'

She said it's time I open my eyes

don't be afraid to open your eyes

maybe she's right

maybe she's right

maybe she's right

maybe she's right....