Summary: An alternate future quiet moment.

Codes: Beka/Tyr

Disclaimer: Tribune owns all rights to Andromeda. All I did was borrow it for use in my twisted little tale.

Spoilers: Maybe faint spoilers for "Forced Perspective" and "Its Hour Come Round At Last."

Rating: PG, for cursing

Author's Note: I apologize for the sappiness and the almost total irrelevancy of the title. This was a little muse that wouldn't leave my head.

Calling Rafe

By B.L.A. the Mouse

If she squinted, she could see the closer stars shifting. I wonder where Rafe is? she thought, idly tracing a design on the cold window with her fingertip. Too bad Dad isn't still around; he'd love this.

The sound of the door swishing open didn't distract her from her scrutiny of the stars. She was on Obs. Deck, after all. This was public, and anyone could walk in. Judging by the lack of footsteps, though, it was Tyr or Trance.

Beka's suspicions were confirmed when strong, warm arms circled her waist, under her arms. A ghost of a smile crossed her lips and her eyes almost involuntarily closed as she leaned into the embrace. Tyr's hand ran over the slight swell of her abdomen. "Are you ever going to get tired of doing that?" she said, softly, teasingly, trapping his hands with hers and pressing the joined grip into her stomach.

He kissed her neck, just behind her ear. "No." A delicious shiver ran down her spine. A pause, a heartbeat went by. "Have you actually stopped and thought about this yet?"

"Not yet. I'm still trying to comprehend it." She chuckled, quietly and delightedly. "And it's already making me look fat!"

She could almost feel him smile. "What do you have to comprehend?" He shifted their hands, his thumb rubbing over the gold band on her left ring finger. "It's a baby. Our baby." He moved his hands again, spread fingers covering the new life that lay inside her slowly rounding stomach. She left her hands on the outside of his, but interlaced their fingers.

They stood like that and stared at the stars. Time slipped by, but they were caught in a world of their own, hoping to trap this moment, this small spot of time permanently in a glass bubble, preserving it for all eternity. Their thoughts wandered leisurely about, taking advantage of the valuable seconds of peace.

Beka's meanderings led her the fact that all their most important moments had taken place in this room. No, not all- there were the shared moments all over the ship, the quick smiles in the middle of long duty shifts, the nights spent just reveling in the feel of being beside each other- but many, most, of the defining moments. That dinner that had touched everything off. The apologies for their behavior that they had exchanged after the Magog worldship had changed their perspectives. The first actual date- she'd never thought Tyr could be nervous, but he'd dropped a dish he'd prepared, sent it crashing to the ground from jittery fingers, before the tension was broken by mutual laughter. The first kiss, after that laughter died down, that confirmed their emotions, revealed warmth between them, pledged their as-yet-unspoken promise.

Their wedding, for lack of a better term. She'd insisted on a combined Human-Nietzschean ceremony. The rest of the crew had watched as he slid the ring on her finger, then as she had fastened the double helix on his arm. Her hands had been sweaty from nerves and somehow the helix had slipped so that when she shut the clasp she caught skin. She hadn't heard a Nietzschean bellow before or since, for which she was definitely grateful.

And most recently, when they had been concerned over her lasting spell of mild flu. Trance had looked over the numerous tests and told them to meet her on Obs. Deck. She'd been waiting with a bouquet and some alcohol-free champagne. She had told them what was causing the malaise, then slipped away as they had started celebrating the pregnancy. Oh, they had gone through a few milestones here.

Beka realized how many stars had glided silently by while she was reminiscing. "Tyr," she said, twisting in his arms until she was facing him.

"Yes?" he replied, distantly. She promptly brought him out of his reverie by slipping her arms around his neck and kissing him as deeply as she could from her current angle.

"Well, that certainly got your attention," she grinned after pulling back.

"More than adequately," he agreed, bending down to kiss her back. She deftly avoided his lips, placing a finger against them.

"I was thinking," she paused, since she knew he wouldn't like this suggestion, "that maybe we could hunt up my less-than-scrupulous brother and give him the good news?"

As she'd expected, his eyes flashed fire. He sounded perfectly calm, though; maybe she'd have to do less damage control than she'd thought. "I suppose we could. But," he said, stifling her reaction, "if he tries to hurt you or destroy the ship again, I retain the right to fire him from a missile tube."

"Done." She kissed him to seal the deal. They were about to take it to a slightly more personal level when the intercom interrupted.

"Beka, Tyr, we need you in command."

Tyr groaned slightly and Beka just muttered "Damn," quietly enough that the intercom didn't pick it up. As they headed toward the door, Tyr promised, "We'll finish this later."

"After we start looking for Rafe," she reminded him, already planning how to tell her brother about the newest addition to the family.