Time After Time

AN: Legends of Tomorrow does not belong to me.

AN2: This fic was written for Timeship Week 2017, and is a series of short looks at Rip and Gideon over their years together before Rip recruited the Legends.

If you're lost you can look,
And you will find me,
Time after time

If you fall I will catch you,
I will be waiting,
Time after time

Time After Time – Cyndi Lauper

"For the time would fail me to tell of Gideon… who through faith subdued kingdoms, worked righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, became valiant in battle, and turned to flight the armies of the aliens." – Hebrews 11:32-34

Rip Hunter, newly qualified Time Master, stood on the bridge of the time-ship and sighed with happiness. He had a ship, and it was really his, assigned to him alone.

He had graduated first in his class, and for that accolade he'd been assigned the Waverider. She wasn't the newest ship in the fleet by any means, but the system was rarely wrong when it came to assigning ships to Captains. This would be the right ship for him. He'd been presented with his new rank insignia which shone brightly on his collar proclaiming his promotion to full Captain, and he was really quite proud of himself. Here he was, at the age of roughly 21, a Time Master Captain, a goal which he had worked for most of his life to achieve.

Now he just had to get acquainted with the ship's systems and the on-board AI. He turned to the holographic projection table.

"AI?" he asked. "What is your designation?"

"Hello, Captain Hunter," said the AI, "my name is Gideon."

The voice was female, which was a little odd for a male name designation, but there were stranger things. He would have to ask which pronouns they wanted to be addressed as. He would prefer not to upset his AI on their very first mission together.

"Pleased to meet you, Gideon," said Rip. "Do you have a projected image you wish to use and which pronouns do you prefer?"

A glowing blue head appeared, floating above the display. "I do, and I prefer she/her."

Rip smiled, taking in the sight of the AI's chosen form. Not all AIs chose to have a projected form. It was something personal to each one, and Gideon's was quite pleasing. She smiled at him.

"I want to set up my override commands before we leave the hangar," said Rip. "I'll need a list of random words to assign as phrases."

"I believe I have a suitable list for you to select from," said Gideon. "Can I suggest that we code all commands of one type by having them start with the same letter? That should make it easier to remember them."

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea."

Rip went down the list of randomly generated phrases and assigned them to the various emergency override commands that he required. He'd have to learn every phrase off by heart and there were quite a few of them, but he had no idea when such things might be needed and under what circumstances. It was important to be prepared and therefore thorough. Gideon herself could not supersede these commands, no matter the situation, and they would override her safety systems if necessary. Once it was done, he prepared to get underway.

"Have you received the details of our first mission?" he asked the disembodied holographic head.

"I have. I hope you're prepared. The Time Masters have rather thrown you in at the deep end," said Gideon. Her voice was upbeat and sounded a little amused.

"Well, I do love a challenge," said Rip, rubbing his hands together and then pressing the controls which would shut the hatches and start the engines. He had read the details of the mission and was unsurprised that the AI had come to the same conclusion that he had. This was sink or swim time, and probably being used as something of a test of his abilities. He just had to hope that their faith in him was not misplaced and he was up to the task.

"Set a course for North America 1863, Champion Hill, please, Gideon. I think we should get under way," he took his seat at the controls.

"Yes, Captain," said the AI. "Would you like me to take us out or would you like the honour given that this is our first flight together?"

"I think I'll take the controls, if you don't mind," said Rip.

"Yes, sir," said the AI.

Rip frowned at that, he wasn't entirely sure that he liked being called "sir", but now wasn't the time to get picky. He had a beautiful time-ship to pilot out on his first mission.

Of course, the first mission was every bit as hard as he'd expected. You didn't just change the course of an entire war without some hard work and considerable difficulty. He stumbled back onto the ship, tired but satisfied with his work.

"Gideon, can you check the timeline for me?" he asked, "How well did I do?"

"You will be pleased to know that the North now win the American Civil War again. All historical figures are alive and well. The timeline is back on track."

"Oh good. On to the next mission then," he said, trying to hide his exhaustion, although he had no idea why he was hiding anything from his AI. She wasn't human and wouldn't think less of him because of it.

"You have some time before you are expected back at the Vanishing Point," said Gideon. "May I suggest you sleep?"

He shook his head. "No, I think we should get back. Could you plot a course back to the Vanishing Point, please? I'll change and be on the bridge momentarily."

"Yes, Captain," she said.

Rip shrugged off his dark blue, Union jacket, and headed for the fabrication room to retrieve his uniform. He was just putting his brown jacket back on and doing up the buttons when Gideon contacted him again.

"Captain, I appear to be having some difficulty with my navigation matrix," said Gideon.

Rip frowned. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"I believe a stray shot from the battleground may have hit my secondary data conduit. I anticipate that it will take twenty-four hours to repair," replied Gideon.

He sighed. It looked like he wouldn't make it back to the Vanishing Point quite as quickly as he'd hoped. He'd had some idea of borrowing a jump-ship on the pretence of needing further piloting practice and heading out to see Miranda. He could wipe the memory of a jump-ship quite easily, but a time-ship AI was a different matter. There were various safeguards in place that he'd have difficulty overriding and if he used his emergency codes then that would be logged.

Still, he and Miranda had known it wouldn't be easy to see each other after she'd left. She'd understand that he'd get away when he could.

"Can your self-repair systems handle it?" he asked.

"Yes, Captain," replied the AI.

At least that was something. He wouldn't have to make the repair himself and he could follow his AI's advice and get some sleep.

"I'll go to my quarters and sleep then," he said. "Perhaps you could wake me in eight hours and then I can at least begin my preparations for the next mission."

"Very well, Captain," said the AI.

He paused. "I don't think I said thank you for you earlier insights into the timeline. I'd never have though to discuss matters with Major Williams if it hadn't been for your suggestion."

"You're welcome, Captain," said the AI, happily.

He nodded, again, slightly unsure why he was doing so given that she was a computer and couldn't see him. She did have cameras but it wasn't exactly the same. He went to his quarters and practically fell into his bed, he was so tired. He was awoken by his AI.

"Captain Hunter," said the AI, "this is your requested wake-up call. Breakfast is ready in the galley once you are dressed."

He raised his eyebrows. "Thank you, Gideon. How are the repairs coming?"

"More rapidly than expected," said Gideon. "My revised estimate suggests that we will be ready to depart once you have eaten."

Rip frowned. That was rather convenient. Had his AI just manipulated him into getting a proper night's sleep and breakfast before returning to the Vanishing Point? That was impossible though, AIs weren't capable of such independent thought, let alone blatantly disobeying an instruction from their Captain. He was just overthinking this, probably he was still getting used to the fact that his AI seemed more human than he'd expected.

He shook his head, dismissing any ideas that he had of Gideon being overly concerned about his health, and went to shower and get dressed.

"Thank you for the suggestion, Gideon, I do believe you're right and shaving off the beard would be a mistake. I've always thought it leant gravitas."

She had formed a number of opinions about her new Captain. Obviously, he was young, arrogant and inexperienced, that was a given, most new Time Captains were, but she also thought he was rather serious, probably more serious than such a young man should be. However, he was also quite the planner and rather resourceful. She'd had Captains in the past who were far less successful and far more annoying. She actually quite liked this one and found herself worrying about him.

They had three successful missions under their belt before anything really went seriously wrong.

She lost him in the Amazon rainforest.

AIs did not panic, but she came very close to something that was akin to that human reaction. She re-ran scans that she'd already performed twice, well aware that she would not get a different result, and then she attempted calling him on the radio which, again, he had already failed to answer numerous times, before she was able to pull her synapses back to order. When her processes were organised once more she calmly went over the data again, and logically formed a new plan.

She knew that he had not disappeared completely and she had his previous location. She also knew that he had been alive and well when he last called in. She engaged her emergency protocols, something which allowed her slightly more autonomy in her actions, and scanned for all human life signs within range. She detected a number of tribespeople, but was unable to determine if any of the lifesigns were actually her Captain.

She reasoned that he would be on his own and had most likely tried to walk a straight line between his objective and the ship. The trees were quite dense here, and he would have been able to use them as cover quite easily. Unfortunately, it was likely that some members of the tribe had blocked his path, which would have sent him, probably towards the river. She could identify a number of individual life signs along the river, any of which might be her Captain, however she realised that only one of them was totally still, and in the right area. She still could not be absolutely certain, but it seemed that something had happened. He was probably injured and unable to return to the ship.

The mission parameters were simple. A wandering time traveller (not a Time Master because they had all been vaccinated against such things) would accidentally come into contact with the people of Abacaxis and they would contract a virus from him which would wipe out the entire tribe. Her Captain would persuade the traveller to leave and keep him clear of the tribe. That part of the mission had gone well, and Captain Hunter had contacted her to let her know that he was on his way back.

He had needed to stay out of the way of the tribe himself because he hadn't wanted to contaminate the timeline. However, if he was in danger then she might need some help to rescue him. She downloaded the Abacaxis language into her voice matrix, and went over the relevant mythology files. She projected her voice towards the nearest member of the tribe. A young woman was picking fruit from a nearby tree.

"I am the spirit of the forest. Come closer," she said.

The woman frowned. She moved a little nearer, and Gideon manipulated her adaptive camouflage. She switched into a slithering display of shimmering green scales of varying shades. She had turned the Waverider into a giant snake, a boa constrictor made of illusion and tricks of the light. Its false eyes blinked at the woman.

"Yes," she said. "I won't hurt you. Come closer."

"Sachamama," murmured the woman, but she did edge further towards the Waverider.

"Yes," replied Gideon. "I am Sachamama. The mother spirit of the forest."

The woman bowed to her. "I am honoured that you speak to me."

"I have a job for you and it is important you do it quickly. Do you understand?" Gideon put a slight hiss into her tone, as befitted a snake goddess.

The woman nodded. "I do, great jungle spirit." She bowed to the snake.

Gideon decided that was good enough. "There is an intruder in the jungle and I need you to get him for me. He is unconscious, near the large rocks, by the river. You may need help."

"Yes, jungle mother," she said. She bowed again and bustled away.

Gideon was unsure whether this would work, but the alternative was to send out a distress signal and for some reason she doubted that her Captain would want another Time Master to come to his aid unless it was absolutely the last resort.

The giant boa constrictor, embodiment of Sachamama, the snake spirit guardian of the jungle, sat and waited. She monitored the lifesigns of the humans as they moved. She watched the woman she had spoken to in particular, and took note that she neared the river and walked along it towards the rocky outcrop where she thought her Captain was. Then other lifesigns converged on his assumed location.

The lifesigns moved all together. She hoped that they were being gentle with him, especially if he was injured. A large party of people now approached her, and she could see that he was carried high on their shoulders. He entered the range of her more sensitive scanners and she was able to discover that he was still breathing, although unconscious. She could also discern blood on his head, so it seemed likely that a head injury was the reason for his unconsciousness. His right leg also appeared to be held at an unusual angle, and she tentatively diagnosed it as broken.

"Place him down on the ground," she directed. They did as she asked, her Captain lay unconscious and vulnerable on the mulch of the jungle floor. The sunlight filtered down, allowing her to notice the paleness of his skin.

"We will sacrifice him to the jungle spirit!" said one of the men, and he already had a knife out before Gideon could say anything.

"No!" said Gideon, quickly. She put some anger into her voice and raised the volume. That had been quite close. She hadn't thought that this ruse would be dangerous for Captain Hunter. She was also beginning to realise that it was unlikely that he would wake up and make his own way onto the ship.

It occurred to her that she could use this situation to her advantage and solve two problems at once.

"Not like that," she added. "You must place him inside me, in the special temple there. Only two of you may enter, but you will be rewarded for your service to me and you will be allowed to leave safely once he is inside me."

She shifted her camouflage again, so that now it appeared that the hatch was an opening mouth. She really hoped that these people had not had sufficient contact with the outside world that they realised what she was, but she felt at this point that she had no choice.

"Quickly," she said, concerned about her Captain's health now. "I am hungry."

There was a conversation amongst the tribe and two people picked up her Captain. They rather fearfully approached her, and then stepped inside. She did not close the hatch behind them because she thought it might scare them and then they might hurt the Captain.

"Please follow the lights in my innards and place the man on the bed you find in my inner temple," said Gideon to the two tribesmen.

She dimmed all the other lights on board and lit up the corridor that led to the medbay. Luckily medbay was close to the entry hatch, because the ship had been designed with the idea that medical emergencies might require quick access to medbay's facilities. The two men were clearly afraid, and they looked around themselves with rapid glances like frightened rabbits.

However, they did as she asked them. She used the medical fabricator to produce a huge basket of local fruits.

"Place him on the lit bed," she instructed, directing her lights so that they illuminated one of the medbay couches. "And place the circle of metal around his wrist. Then you may take the fruit and go."

They didn't exactly put him down gently, but getting him here at all had been something of an achievement. She could heal all his wounds here, even if some might take longer than others. She did wait until the two men had left before she activated the blue light of the scanner and gave him a thorough exam. She kept an electronic eye on the two tribesmen as they walked back out of her corridors and into the jungle again.

She shut the gaping maw of the snake.

"Thank you," she said to the waiting tribe. "Your service to the jungle has been noted. You may go now."

She used another trick of her camouflage and made the snake seam to slither away and back into the trees behind them. The Waverider appeared as invisible once more. The tribespeople remarked upon this with both surprise and amazement, but they did begin to move away eventually. She had no wish to leave this bit of the rainforest for the moment, so she hoped that the ship would not be disturbed further. It had been difficult to find a suitable area to land in amongst the trees and the take-off would be a difficult one. She also couldn't jump into the temporal zone whilst her Captain was injured.

She turned her attention to her Captain. His clothes were rather damp and she worried that he was cold, so she increased the temperature of the medbay. He had bled considerably, but his concussion was mild and it wasn't sufficient for him to require a blood transfusion. The leg was broken and would need to be reset, but that could wait until he was conscious again. She could provide him with sufficient painkillers that it wouldn't hurt until he could deal with the misaligned bone. Then she would be able to heal him, and whilst he would probably require crutches as the bone fully knitted, she could provide him with drugs that would speed up the process. He should be completely back to full health within two weeks.

He awoke a short time later.

"Gideon?" he murmured.

"Welcome back, Captain," she said. "Please do not try to get up, you sustained a mild concussion and a broken leg on your mission. I have been able to heal the concussion but you will need to set the broken bone in your leg so that I can begin the knitting process."

He frowned. "How did I get back to the ship?" he asked. "The last thing I remember was being startled by one of the tribespeople approaching and losing my footing on the edge of the river."

"I believe you fell down a rocky outcropping and sustained your injuries in the fall," said Gideon.

"That seems reasonable, but I don't remember walking back here," said Rip. "What did I say to you when I came on board?"

Gideon weighed up her options. Silence seemed like the best plan.

"Gideon? What did I say?"

Again, she decided that remaining quiet was the best option. She had problems with lying to her Captain unnecessarily.

"Gideon, I'm your Captain, answer me!" He was getting cross now. That probably wasn't good for his blood pressure and, by extension, head injury. She'd rather hoped that he would just drop the subject. Oh well.

"You didn't say anything. You were unconscious," said Gideon.

He rolled his eyes. "So how did I get back on board the Waverider?"

"Two tribesmen carried you," said Gideon.

He turned his head, as if he could listen better that way, and he gave the ceiling an incredulous look that suggested he didn't believe what she'd said.

"I'm sorry, Gideon, I thought you said that two tribesmen carried me on board, but you can't have said that, because that would break every single bloody regulation in the Time Master handbook! What did you actually say?"

And now he was deploying sarcasm against her. She felt aggrieved. She had just saved his life.

"That is what I said," she replied in clipped tones. "Perhaps I should recheck your hearing after the concussion."

"Gideon!" he shouted. "Why would you let primitive people onto the Waverider? How did you even get them to do it?"

"I persuaded them that you were a sacrifice to the forest spirit, Sachamama, by using the adaptive camouflage of the Waverider to appear to be a giant snake." She paused for a second. "And I did it because you would have died if I had not."

"Oh," he said, sounding just a little surprised.

He let out a long sigh, and his anger seemed to disappear. "That was actually very resourceful of you. Was there any damage to the timeline?"

"No, Captain," she replied. He might be fresh out of the Academy, but she was not. She knew enough to be careful when she interacted with a timeline.

"Thank you for saving my life, Gideon," he said, a little more quietly. "Maybe we should leave this out of the official mission report, though. Perhaps we can just say that I limped back on my own?"

"Very well, Captain," said Gideon. She knew that he was also now trying to protect her. She would be in some trouble if what she'd done was discovered. She found herself somewhat pleased that he wanted to spare her the bother of dealing with that.

"Could you take me through setting my leg now? I'd like to get out of these damp clothes as soon as possible," said the Captain.

"Of course, Captain," said Gideon, and she helped him to deal with his leg, setting it back into position for healing.

He fell asleep again in the medbay chair while she worked, the painkillers and energy expended during healing making him drowsy. She kept a careful eye on him, ensuring that he felt no pain from the procedure. She hadn't expected him to suggest they kept this to themselves. None of her other Captains would have done that.

Captain Hunter was proving himself to be more interesting by the day.

"We are not getting a snake, Gideon, that is the end of the matter! I don't care if they make great pets!"

"I think we need better furniture," Rip decided, looking at the parlour. His back was aching from working at the desk. "I'd like a chair that I can actually relax in when I'm reading."

The parlour was the small room at the back of the bridge which was used for planning missions and where Rip worked on his mission research. It was sparsely furnished with metal chairs, a matching table and a utilitarian desk. He'd ended up with a crick in his neck the other day from hunching over some old maps, which Gideon had told him off for because she'd warned him to take a break several times before he eventually gave up. To be honest though, he just didn't like the way the metal made the room feel colder and less personal.

He frowned, considering his options. He'd collected a few souvenirs of his missions and it would be nice to actually have some shelves to display them on too.

"Unfortunately, the fabricator is not large enough to make an entire chair," said Gideon.

"I know, I know," he said, hand on his chin. "Gideon, do you think it would be completely against the rules to just buy the relevant pieces of furniture?"

"Repetitive strain injury is a health and safety issue," said Gideon. "Under regulations, I must ensure your wellbeing, therefore providing you with furniture which does not result in pain when used for extended periods is part of my job. Please select the items you would like from the screen and I will have them delivered to an area where we can collect them."

Rip smiled. "Thank you, Gideon."

Rip looked at the list that Gideon had provided. The Time Masters would probably not approve of this, but the ship felt so big and impersonal at times. He'd like to at least make it feel more comfortable, more like his home. He selected some leather armchairs, a desk, a table, and a bureau. Gideon arranged for it all to be delivered to a warehouse that they could gain access to at night and Rip brought everything on board, with a little help from the tractor beam and an antigrav trolley.

He was just returning to lock up the warehouse when a voice, in a Northern English accent, said "Well, well, well, fancy meeting you here."

The Waverider was cloaked and really all Rip was doing at the moment was walking across the concrete in front of a warehouse by the docks. It wasn't that strange a thing to be doing, even if it was quite late at night. He could bluff his way through this. He turned to see a blond man in a dirty trench coat smoking a cigarette. He was leaning against the edge of the building.

"I'm sorry," said Rip, on his guard, "do I know you?"

The man raised his eyebrows. "I would say so after that business with the Eye of the Yellow God, but today I'm hunting a Leech Demon. I wouldn't have thought that was in your pay grade."

Rip sighed. This was one of those moments when time travel could be quite annoying.

"I'm terribly sorry, but you'll have to refresh my memory. Who are you?"

The man smirked. "John Constantine, exorcist, demonologist and master of the dark arts." The man pulled out a card and handed it to Rip. It had the same words written on it in a serif font, and a phone number. "And you're Captain Rip Hunter, arsehole, killjoy, and Time Master. Although you do know how to hold your drink, I'll give you that."

"I don't drink," said Rip, without really thinking. "If you know who I am, then you know that it's quite possible that although you've met me, I haven't met you yet. So, if you could refrain from giving me information about my own future that I'm not supposed to have, I would be most grateful, Mr Constantine."

Constantine shrugged. "Whatever you like, mate. Now, are you going to give me a hand with this Leech Demon, or shall we just leave the illegal immigrants locked in that shipping container over there to their fate?"

Rip frowned. Strictly speaking that was exactly what he should do. He was not supposed to be interfering in the timeline at this point and he certainly wasn't meant to be helping this man, whoever he was. He touched his com. "Gideon, I've met a Mr Constantine and I'll be assisting him with a small problem."

"Yes, Captain," she replied. She didn't sound terribly surprised.

Two days later, Rip returned to the ship, somewhat singed around the edges. He was going to have to throw out all his clothes because they now smelt strongly of smoke and were burnt in various locations. He also had a rather large scratch on his arm from a cat that John had insisted was important to his spell to exorcise the demon and gain some knowledge about the "rising darkness".

It had been something of an interesting foray into the supernatural, but he was glad that he didn't have to deal with that particular sphere of activity on a daily basis. Keeping the timeline on track was quite enough responsibility for him.

Still, they had saved a shipping container full of illegal immigrants from having their souls sucked from their bodies and devoured by a demon. As it turned out, that had only been the start of a rather larger conspiracy though, which had involved some higher order demons who appeared to have a personal grudge against Constantine. By that point, Rip was so deeply embedded in the whole thing that he simply couldn't walk away. He and Constantine had escaped with their lives, and dealt sufficiently well with the demons that they wouldn't be bothering anyone for about a millennium.

He slumped down in his rather comfortable, new, leather armchair.

"Did you know that John Constantine was going to be there?" asked Rip, looking upwards. He'd since had time to look up the man's history, and realised that he had actually got off quite lightly compared to some of the things that he could have become embroiled in involving the demonologist.

"Yes, Captain," said Gideon.

"Then why, in the name of all that is holy, would you have picked that warehouse to have the furniture delivered to?"

"As you are aware, the warehouse where our furniture was stored burnt down shortly after you collected the items, removing any records that existed of our being there," said Gideon.

"Yes, because Constantine set fire to it to kill a demon," replied Rip, ruefully.

"The involvement of John Constantine also gives us a reasonable excuse to have visited this time period," replied Gideon. "And I thought he might be a useful contact for us to have."

"Did you now? You might have mentioned this to me beforehand," said Rip, tiredly. He closed his eyes and leaned back in the incredibly comfortable, really quite perfect, chair.

"Duly noted, Captain," replied Gideon. "Perhaps you should go to medbay so that I can tend to that scratch on your arm."

Rip snored at her.

"Perhaps later then," said Gideon.

"No, Gideon, I am not a cat person! I'm not any kind of animal person. I don't need the companionship of something which will probably scratch me to pieces!"

The shipyards of Androzani 9 were renowned across this part of the galaxy as the best place to buy any kind of vessel a purchaser might be interested. Timeships were rare however. Which would explain the rather obscene price that her Captain had just negotiated for her sale.

Wait, he was selling her? That couldn't be right. The first problem was that he didn't actually own her. The Waverider belonged to the Time Masters and was not his personal property. She tuned into the conversation again.

"Yes," he was saying, "she's an older model, but quite frankly I need the money. I stole her from my former employers and now I'm on the run. It's rather hard to hide from an organisation which oversees time itself, so I require a good sum to facilitate my, erm, retirement. I could always go to Corridan instead, I hear that they pay quite well over there."

"No, no, no," replied the merchant. "We'll take her off your hands. It's not the first timeship we've handled and we have a buyer lined up already."

"Then obviously I came to the right place," replied Captain Hunter. "What did you do about the AI? Mine can be quite uppity at times and they're notoriously difficult to transfer to new owners."

"Oh, we wiped the last one. Put him back to factory settings," said the merchant.

Did her Captain's fist just clench at that? His words didn't seem to quite tally up with his body language.

"Of course, very sensible," he said, dismissively. "Can't have the computer calling home now, can we? Although in this case I have the relevant codes so I'll be able to assign her to the new owner."

"I think we'd still prefer to wipe the memory. I mean, who knows what surprises the Time Masters might have lurking in her memory banks, hey?"

"Good point," replied Captain Hunter. "A complete wipe it is then. I'll just get my things, then await the transfer of funds. Once they're in my account, she's all yours."

"Excellent. It's good doing business with you Captain Hunter," said the merchant, shaking Rip's hand.

"Not Captain anymore," he said, with a slight smile. "Mr Hunter will be fine from now onwards."

He gave the merchant details of a bank account into which funds could be transferred and then he turned to come back into the ship. Gideon did not turn the lights on as he walked on board. He wasn't in uniform at the moment, instead wearing his favourite leather jacket and jeans with a grey t-shirt. He had quite a serious expression on his face, one that she was beginning to learn meant that he was deep in thought.

He looked around himself at the corridors.

"Gideon?" he asked.

She refused to reply and he sighed.

"What have I done this time? Did I manage to insult you at breakfast? I really appreciated the attempt to make poached eggs for me, I just don't think the fabricator can manage them. At least not properly," he said.

"You're selling me!" she said with horror.

"What?! No!" said her Captain, looking vaguely distraught. "You were listening in, weren't you? Gideon! We really need to have a talk about your privacy settings."

"I have monitored a transaction of a large amount of money into the account that you provided to the merchant," said Gideon.

"That's good, he believed me," said Rip. "What is our mission, Gideon?"

"To find and retrieve the timeship Belerophon, ship's AI Gaston, and their assigned Captain, Captain Jaden Ohio," Gideon replied.

"And we traced the ship's location to here, which would suggest that someone tried to sell the ship. Timeships aren't exactly a dime a dozen around here, so I'm betting that not many people are actually interested in buying stolen Time Master property, because they know the consequences. If someone bought the Belerophon then I would expect them to also be interested in the Waverider," replied Rip.

"I see. So we are setting a trap and I am the bait," she said, still a little cross with him. "Perhaps next time you could inform me in advance."

"I'm hurt that you would think I'd sell you. You're not even mine to sell," replied her Captain.

"You have been acting a little strangely lately," said Gideon.

"Yes, well, I needed them to believe I was going rogue," said Rip. "We just need to play along for a bit and hopefully they'll lead us right to the Bellerophon."

"I should pretend to be sold then?" asked Gideon. "They want to return me to my original settings and wipe my memory. That would amount to the same as killing me."

"I won't let them do that," said her Captain. "I promise. I'm going to take the jump-ship, but I'll be tracking you and ready to intercept you the moment they get where they're going. I'm sure you can stall them until then."

Gideon brought the lights up.

"Please do not be late, Captain," replied Gideon.

"A Time Master is never late, Gideon," said Captain Hunter.

Gideon decided not to remind her Captain of those particular words six hours later when he ran into the engine room just as her new "owner" was about to remove her memory circuits and perform a full reset. She was quite glad to see his revolver in his hand, and hear the sound of the laser firing. He was a very good shot and hit the man squarely in the back. Her assailant crumpled to the ground, not dead but certainly unconscious.

Her Captain breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank god. Sorry I'm late. I encountered a small amount of resistance."

He was breathing heavily, and he leaned back against the wall, panting from exertion. He had two large bruises, one on his chin and the other on his right cheek, that were only just beginning to show. She was aware that he had run all the way to the engine room from the jump-ship and dealt with four men on the way. He had put himself at risk for her, an AI, when he really hadn't needed to. He didn't actually need Gideon and her current personality. Any AI would be able to run the ship and help him in his work.

"The important thing is that you got here," said Gideon. "I have detected the Belerophon, however I cannot detect the lifesign of its Captain."

"He's dead," said her Captain, his shoulders drooping. "I heard them discussing it, and we already know that they reset Gaston. All we can do is take the Belerophon home. Please make the necessary connections. We'll link them to the Waverider and take them back to the Vanishing Point."

He sounded tired and quite sad.

"Of course, Captain. I will make the connection," said Gideon.

"I'll move our friends to the brig. We'll also need to erase all traces of the sale transaction," said Captain Hunter.

"Already done, Captain."

He began to move the prisoners towards the brig and then he paused.

"I'm sorry for putting you in danger, Gideon. That was wrong of me."

"On the contrary, Captain, I believe it was a very reasonable plan. I am, after all, expendable."

"You are not, Gideon. Not to me."

"No, I do not believe the Waverider would benefit from having chickens for fresh eggs. Where would we even put them, Gideon?"

AN: Reviews = Love. Please drop me a line if you read this and enjoyed it.