Wow...took awhile to think of that title. And I'm still not sure I like it *shrug*. Anyhow...

Rating-probably PG but Beka or Harper might becomer a bit foul-mouthed later, so PG-13

Spoilers-Takes place after Immaculate Perception, before Tunnel, spoilers up till then.

Plot- Beka and Tyr get to pretend to be married (I know its been done before but I really did think of it on my own [pic]), and the rest are forced to spend a few days on a gorgeous, sunny planet. Oh the unfairness of it all.

Couple(s)- tentative Tyr/Beka, nothing hot and bothered

And I must admit to being rather adverb happy!


Teaser pt. 1

Dylan sat as his desk, scrubbing his hand through his sandy colored hair. It was the fish... Castalians again, this time angry about some diplomatic slight of the part of, who else, the Sabra-Jaguar pride. All he needed to resolve this minor crisis was a simple apology from one or another ambassador from the allied Pride. "Just an apology," he muttered. He opened his mouth to ask his ship to remind him why exactly he'd allowed the annoyingly decadant archduke of Pride Jaguar to sign his charter.

A melodious chime echoed and he lifted his head slowly to regard the office door. "Enter." His blonde First Officer did just that, tapping a flexi against her palm. "Why exactly did I let Charlemagne Bolivar sign the Commonwealth Charter?"

Beka blinked. "Let him? You're lucky you didn't have to beg on bended knees." He glared at her, and she shook her head. "Never mind." She proceeded to shoot him a piercing glare of her own. "Hey, I heard the funniest thing just now. Someone informed me that while you, Harper, Rommie, and Trance are exploring the beautiful beaches of Soral III, I get to attend a diplomatic conference in the Tiradis sector of the Lesser Magellanic Cloud with Tyr, posing as his wife." She paused. "Funny, huh?"

Dylan had the grace to look a little sheepish. "Listen, Beka," he temporarily forgot his troubles in an attempt to mollify the fiery young woman, "I knew you weren't going to be...thrilled about this, but we need to find out what's going on there, why so many of the systems are hostile to the idea of a renewed Commonwealth."

Beka gestured impatiently with the flexi. "That I know. I can read Common, remember? What I don't understand is-"

The door whooshed open again, but this entrant looked nothing like the first. Dark eyes blazed, and Dylan unconsciously stiffened in response to a situation his mind automatically labeled a threat. Large, irate Nietzscheans had a tendency to inspire such reactions. "Captain Hunt," an icily furious voice began, "I would greatly appreciate knowing the meaning of this." He punctuated this by slamming the flexi of his own hard on the large desk.

Captain Valentine seemed barely to notice her crewmate's...unpleasant demeanor. She pointed to him and stage whispered that she didn't think he found this very funny. Her pale eyes glinted with a wry humor. Only then did the Weapons Officer recall her presence, and he quickly turned his temper on her. "You knew about this?"

She held her hands up defensively, unsuccessfully suppressing a suspiciously amused grin. "Hey, I'm on your side here."

Tyr was unsure whether to take offense at her evident enjoyment of his anger before mellowing suddenly and giving the blue-eyed woman a half-smile of his own. "It appears that is precisely what our good captain desires."

Dylan was apparently forgotten as the light-hearted grin melted from Beka's face. She directed a dirty look toward her shipmate. "What do you know, two funny men in single, tiny room. How lucky can a girl get?" Obviously he hadn't been forgotten after all. She rolled her eyes and left, shaking her head.

Tyr watched the door slide shut behind his superior officer and murmured something to himself. All Dylan caught of the low stream of words was something about how well the First Officer looked while leaving a room in a temper. He glanced up in surprise but was answered with another small smile before the other man left to do...whatever Nietzscheans did in their spare time. Perfect his plan to conquer known space, very likely.

Dylan chuckled at his crew. His hundred High Guard-trained Lancers might have been more useful in a firefight, but only those two would be able to pull this off.


pt. 2

The scene in one of the crew quarter could not have possibly contrasted any more with that in the captain's tidy quarters. Shiny metallic cans littered the ground, lending themselves to quite a vivid sight with the brightly- colored garments strewn about, covering nearly every square centimeter of the grey carpeted room. And instead of a uniformed High Guard captain sitting quietly at a desk, a short, hyperactive engineer stood on a long board, which lay diagonally across a small bed. He tilted from side to side, in real danger of falling off completely and fracturing something. Arms flailing wildly, he shouted happily to the empty room. "Ooh, and he rides that wave like nobody's busines! Judges give him a ten, a ten, and, what's that he says? a ten! Seamus Zelazny Harper is now officially the freakin', no Emperor of the deep blue sea."

A holographic image of an exotically beautiful woman appeared at the foot of the bed, startling the spiky-haired youth so that he slipped and for a minute, grappled with the bedsheets in a vain attempt to regain some semblence of balance. He gave up and half-jumped, half-tumbled to the ground. The hologram's delicate features twisted into a faint grimace at the state of her chief (and sole) engineer's quarters. "Aren't you supposed to be working on Tyr and Beka's documents and identification?"

"I know, I know, work before play. Now, normally you'd be right," here he bounded across the room to a small table and hastily sorted through a dozen or so flexis, "but I am way ahead of you. Uh, marriage and birth certificates," he held up a different one for each item he mentioned, "pilot's licenses, and proof of diplomatic status in the Tiradisene government." He beamed at Andromeda, extremely pleased with himself. With Harper, that was more or less a permanent state of being. "I even got my suitcase packed, Rom-Doll. So tell me, will your, uh, lovely avatar be joining us?"

The hologram's nod was almost imperceptible. "My android body will accompany you."

If possible, Harper's smile grew even larger at her reply. "Yes! Tell me, is she the, uh, itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, yellow polka dot bikini type?"

Andromeda rolled her eyes much in the manner of her First Officer. "You're incorrigible, Harper."

Undaunted, he ran and leapt back onto his surfboard. "That's how the ladies love me!" He resumed his enthusiastic pantomiming with a resounding, "Whoo!"


Yes, there'll be more...sometime!