Title: From the Outside Looking In

Spoilers: Vague allusions to "Bunker Hill" and "The Torment, The Release"

Season/Setting: Some time in Season 4

Email: ashnod99hotmail

Feedback: Absolutely. I'm always happy to hear what people think, and whether or not I suck.

Archive: Sure. Just let me know first.

Rating: We'll say PG-13 for language. Subject to change.

Thanks: To Mercury's Winter, my unbelievably wonderful beta-reader, and to Josey, my friend, encouragement, and Pedantic Grammar Nazi.

Author's Note: Harper's comedically tragic luck with women has become one of the staple running gags on the show. It's always reminded me of the Coyote and his persistent yet futile struggle to catch the Roadrunner. Well, you know what? I've always wanted to see the Coyote catch the Roadrunner. I think I would have found that amazingly satisfying. After seeing the female Collector scientist's refreshingly positive reaction to Harper in "Fear Burns Down to Ashes," I was inspired to write this fic, which is completely unrelated to that scene in all but concept. Thus I present for your reading pleasure, a tale wherein the Coyote catches himself a Roadrunner.

Further Author's Note: To quote Mark Twain, "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot." The situations and settings contained in this story are intended as a convenient vehicle for the plot of a fanfiction, not as an extended sociocultural critique. Take from them what you will.

The Inevitable Disclaimer: No intellectual property rights were harmed during the making of this fic. Please do not sic rabid attack lawyers on me. I own neither Andromeda nor its characters, and am making no money from this story. Darn, now I've depressed myself. The original characters and plot do belong to me, however. Which still isn't as good as owning Harper, but it's something. I guess.

Day 17

After two and a half weeks in the Narov Sulfur Deserts, our search has borne fruit. This afternoon we crossed a ravine, and one of our team happened to notice something green among the rocks. Upon closer investigation, we discovered a specimen of the rare saffron lion-rose that we had been hoping to find, growing in a crevice. No matter how many times it happens, I never cease to be amazed at the way life manages to persist and flourish even in the harshest, most unlikely places.

From the Journals of Dr. Paige Solon, Commonwealth Botanical Survey, CY 8891

"Is it just me, or does everybody in the universe want to kill us these days?"

"I don't think it's you, Boss," replied Harper, walking into Command as Beka finished speaking. He made a couple of notes on the flexi he was holding, then set it down on a nearby console.

Dylan turned away from the viewscreen to face the young engineer. "How are those repairs coming, Mr. Harper?"

"Not so great, now that you mention it. I think we'll get one, maybe two jumps before the slip drive falls apart on us. I'm holding her together with duct tape as it is. We'll need to stop somewhere for parts before I can get her into anything like normal working order."

"Alright. Looks like we need to find somewhere nearby where we can pick up some parts." Dylan returned his attention to Andromeda's AI on the monitor before him. "Andromeda, any likely candidates?"

Andromeda's image on the monitor half-lidded her eyes as she searched through her computer banks. "One. Lanvar Three. It's a mining planet with an orbiting station and skyhook. We should be able to get the parts we need there, and perhaps even dock for repairs."

"They're not gonna want to blow us up too, are they? We're not exactly the most popular people in the Known Worlds right now." Beka didn't bother to keep the cynicism out of her voice.

"Unlikely. From the information in my databanks, Lanvar Three experienced a shift of political power two years ago, and the government has been primarily concerned with resolving domestic affairs. They are not known to have significant ties to the Nietzscheans, the Collectors, the Kalderans, or really anyone, for that matter."

"How does a mining colony, which presumably requires both incoming supplies and exported ores in order to sustain itself, manage to remain so isolated?" wondered Rhade aloud, looking up from the weapons console.

"We'll find out soon enough. Beka, if you'd care to do the honors?" Dylan gestured to the piloting platform.

She nodded, and took her position at the console, keying in a few commands. "Opening slip portal. I hope that duct tape of yours holds, Harper."