Chapter Twenty Five: A Visit to Med. Deck

A/N: Hiya, people! Okay, this is a little Beka/Rhade interlude that is really me shaking off the last of my writers block and warming up to start off again. But I had fun writing it, so enjoy! The next chapter is more interesting, 'cause I finally get to play with the two Rommie's interacting! Yay! Anyways, read and review!

Pyral: Hey there! I don't know whether you're still reading this, but so far you've reviewed up to chapter sixteen, and still going strong. I'm glad you decided to start reading! Anyway, in answer to your early questions, Trance made a promise to her son as a baby. I'm not telling you what that is, but it has to do with some messed up future stuff, which will get revealed later on. Also, Trance couldn't see Khayos coming because I'm writing under my own artistic license, deciding that Trance can see all futures except her own. She can see snippets of what will happen to her through other people's futures, but she can never directly see what's coming to her. Khayos is the only one of her children who was concieved 'normally', ie, with two people involved, one of which was human. He was a part of her future, because she had to carry him and give birth to him and raise him, etc, thus, she couldn't see him coming in the same way she could Destiny and Hope.

Oenone: Glad you decided to read this! You're a Trekkie? I never would have guessed! ;) Anyway, thanks for the trivia. I'm not the world's majorist trekkie, but I've been known to watch it on Sunday afternoons. Anyway, hope you enjoy the next chapters!

Andy: Good to hear from you! Just review every few chapters or so, and I'll be happy. What Shailen is should become much clearer in the next chapter. As for Khayos... read and find out!

Christieanne-Anna: Well, I'm glad you're reading now. Enjoy the next chapters!

NalanaSpinderofSouls: Good to have you back! I'm trying to make the kids like their parents... but not. Slightly exagerated, or slightly twisted, or slightly more depressed, or slightly more hyper incarnations of their genetic donars, so you can tell they're related to or where influenced by their parents attitudes and characters, but without making them basically minniversions of their parents. I'm glad you think it's working!

Sangga: Aw, jeez... -insert blush here- thanks. You can quibble my spelling. I know I get it mixed up. It's not my greatest strength at school. I usually run my stuff by my beta (my older brother), but sometimes I don't so I can get chapters up quicker, sorry about that. However, I'm seriousely flattered you think my writing is that good. I'm gonna be an author when I'm older, so what you're saying is really encouraging. Thanks!

Callie-Cat: Hey there! No, Khayos isn't fond of his father. He has issues of the large and (literally) universal kind. All will be revealed as to the true parenthood of all the kids eventually, until then, keep reading! :D

Prin69: Thanks! You like this fic so much you'd be willing to spam-mail me if I stopped writing? Wow... that's actually a very cool compliment. Keep reading and reviewing, and I hope you keep enjoying this!

Morgan: Thank you! Hope you enjoy this!

Mysteral: Thanks! I liked the name Shailen cause it sounds a little like Seamus without being too similar. Plus, there's a really nice, but kinda goofy guy at my school called Shailen too, who I'm basing Shailen the robot-child on a little here. I'm glad I convinced someone who doesn't normally like OC's to keep reading this. I don't normally read OC fics either. I don't normally write them, 'cause I know the potential for them to go disaterously wrong. However, if I sceptic likes this, I must be doing something right!

CeredwenFlame: You'll get Shailen antics and insight into Future-Rommie in the next chapter, so enjoy!

ANS4Christ: Thank you! I hope you enjoy the next chapters!

FlameDancer77: Thanks! I'm quietly setting Hannah and Hope up, as you might have noticed. Some... uh... interesting future things are gonna happen (we're talking in five, ten years time), to those two, which... in a round about way, we'll get to see. Anyway, keep reading!

IrishcLover: Thank you! Here's more!

Phew! That's everyone! Enjoy the next chapters guys, and keep reviewing!

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Rhade was contemplating the pin-prick on his arm where the plastic tube ferrying blood from Trident to himself had gone in. It kind of itched… and his head still hurt, and his chest ached, despite the fact that Trance had fused all the broken ribs back together again. And his legs smarted too, from where the Magog had clawed at him when he had tired to kick it off.

"Hey there, soldier."

Rhade looked away from the fascinating view of his elbow, to blink in surprise at the blond pilot who had, mysteriously, appeared at his bed side. "Oh, um… hey, Beka."

"How're you doing?" Beka asked. She looked a little awkward, like she wasn't entirely sure what she was doing, or why. She was still wearing his bracelet. He smiled, "I'm… I'm doing okay."

"That bad, huh?" Beka tipped her head slightly, a smirk threatening to tug up the corners of her lips.

"I… kind of have a head ache…" Rhade struggled to sit up a little.

Beka waved a hand at him dismissively. "Ah, stay where you are, you God damn martyr. You want something for that head ache?"

Rhade grimaced, "that would be nice."

Beka disappeared from view, and he heard the clatter and rustling of cupboards being opened and closed, their contents searched through until the right pain killers could be located. She reappeared, with a glass of water and two white tablets. "Here we go," she sat down on the edge of Rhade's bed, "for all Trance's fancy inoculations and hydrosprays and… whatever else she has in here… still can't beat a good old fashioned aspirin."

She placed glass and tablets down, took hold of Rhade's shoulders, and hauled him into a slightly more upright position, or at least one where he wouldn't choke. Rhade groaned and struggled. "Still got that… charming… bedside manner…"
Beka gave him a wry look and handed him the aspirin, "here. Take these. Swallow." The glass followed, and Rhade gulped it down hastily.

The aspirin was fast acting, or perhaps just sitting up had done him some good, but either way, slowly, the sensation of a thousand tiny men in hobnailed boots doing a clog dance on the inside of his skull lessoned, and Rhade felt a little better.

"So," he blinked, trying to clear his vision, "what's brought on this sudden need to play nurse?"
Beka made a face, "I'm not playing nurse."

"No?"

"No. You bought me a ridiculously expensive, very rare, kinda pretty birthday present for no apparent reason. I figure I owe you a visit." She shrugged dismissively.

"It's a birthday present, Beka," Rhade told her, attempting to fold his arms, but stopping as the gash in his arm twinged a protest under it's stitches, "you don't owe things for birthday presents."

"Hey," Beka punched his arm, making him flinch as she barely missed the gash, "stop ruining my excuse!"

"What? Other than the fact that you so obviously crave my company?" Rhade asked, looking irritating smug.

Beka resisted the urge to back hand him across the jaw, and attempted to remind herself he had just had about half of his blood drained out of him, and made a narrow escape from under the grim reaper's claws. But really, she only didn't hit him because he looked so damn pale. Jeez, it was scary to see him looking so unhealthy.

"In your pathetic dreams, Ubur-boy," she retorted, attempting flippancy.

Rhade studied her critically from under his fringe for a few seconds. He had another one of those really, really irritating looks on his face; cool all-knowingness this time. Beka ignored him, picking imaginary fluff off the sleeves of her top.

"You are a highly strange individual, Rebecca," he remarked, after a while. "You come here under the barely standing excuse of repaying a none existent dept, in an attempt to somehow save your already limping pride, yet you are clearly simply concerned with my well-being. I can't see why you wouldn't state that as your purpose in the first place."
Beka wrinkled her nose, "you sound like Rommie."

"You're avoiding the subject."

"This isn't a subject. My pride may be limping, but it's not dead yet." Beka poked the Nietzschean's shoulder, "I'll make up none-existent debts if I want to."

Rhade smirked, "so I see."