Escapism I

By: Thought

Disclaimer: You know what tastes good? Chocolate!

A/N: K, there's a series of songs that I think you should listen to for this fic. For chapter one, Hotel Paper by Michelle Branch, Two, Bells For Her by Tori Amos, and for Three, Crazy, also by Tori Amos.

Yes, there's a Farscape cameo! You'll get over it!

Dedication: I figured I'd write good fic for Caliga, because she's cool! Yes, yes she is.

And for Prin69 for being a Beka/Rhade shipper, yet reviewing all my Beka/Tyr stories!


Maybe this wind blowing in just came from the ocean


It's hard to watch someone you love fall for someone else. Especially hard when you know he's not actually, you know, falling for her because he's in love with her. I mean, ok, so maybe he's diluted himself into thinking that he's in love with her, but he's really not. I know he's not, because he's Tyr, and he could never be in love with anyone. He isn't in love with her, and he certainly could never be in love with me. But it still hurts, you know? To understand that it was someone else he chose to pretend to be in love with. I could have been in love with him. Hell, I'd have even played the good little Nietzschean wife. Ok, fine, so I wouldn't, under any circumstances have had the kids. But that's fine, because he wouldn't want my Kludge genes polluting his perfect line of Kodiacs. But I would have stood by his side, laid in his bed, fought with him and against him, just like any good wife.

I often find myself wondering if it was just because I'm human. I don't think it was. I think it was because he couldn't control me. I wouldn't 'come', 'sit' and 'stay' like he'd like me to. I did whatever the hell I wanted, whenever the hell I wanted, with whoever the hell I wanted to. I still do. The Nietzschean woman he finally settled down with would do none of that. She obeyed him, had his children and kept the rest of the household in line without complaint. And she looked beautiful doing it. I hate her. She took my Tyr.

I left the Andromeda about a week after Tyr announced his marriage. I didn't say goodbye, or anything emotional like that. I just up and left, early one morning. I'm sure none of them were really saddened to see me gone. Sure they'd pretend to be. They'd cry, and make some half-hearted attempt to find me. And when they didn't, they could console themselves by saying that they did the best they could, and that I must be happier wherever I am now. And then they'd go on with their lives like nothing had happened. It's not like I really did anything important, anyway. In all honesty, I'm surprised that they let me stay this long. Dylan or Harper or Tyr can pilot slipstream, and Rommie will make a much better first officer than I ever could have dreamt of. All I was good for was getting them in trouble. And now I'm gone, so they don't have to worry about that anymore.

I arrived at a little motel on some backwater drift that no one's ever heard of unless they're a drug dealer or criminal of some sort. I knew the place well. That's where I've been hiding out the last few weeks. Just living from day to day, taking any job that the Maru and I can handle, and some that we probably can't, but do anyway. I've got just enough money to keep myself in this room, the Maru in the docks and a little food in my

stomach. Just enough to prevent me from passing out, but every time I think about returning to the Andromeda, I need only envision Tyr and his smiling wife standing together right in front of me as they told the entire crew of their marriage. That pretty much turns me off the idea of going back.

I didn't want anyone to find me. I changed my hair colour to black, and used brown contacts. I got a few strange looks, with my pale as snow completion, so I darkened my skin with a series of injections taken over a four-day period. I know I've lost weight, and I chopped off most of my hair, making myself practically nothing like the old me. I changed my name to Sae Hishita. Yes, I used Harper's initials. That would explain any of his shirts that I might have snitched over the years that have his initials scribbled on the back.