TITLE: No Gurlz Allowed
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: If the Wheel is Fixed
ARCHIVE: Yes, ask first though please
DISCLAIMER: I do not own ANDROMEDA or any of its characters. They belong to the lucky folks at Tribune.
SUMMARY: Answer to club house challenge on SS--"Now that the girls have a clubhouse, where do Dylan, Tyr, and Harper set up their clubhouse? You know, to watch sports, drink brewskies, and let their guts hang out? (Apologies for that last mental image.):D "
**********************
Dylan let his mind wander as he jogged through one of Andromeda's many corridors. It was late and all was quiet. There were times he really missed having a full crew aboard his ship, but in moments like these, he was grateful for the peaceful ambiance a compliment of six provided. He had gone to bed several hours earlier only to find that sleep eluded him. His intelligent mind kept going over and over the events of the previous day, trying desperately to make sense of what he had experienced. Frustrated, he finally gave up, threw on some comfortable clothes and started running. Some of the tension left his body through the steady beat of his sneakers on the deck. Finally Dylan felt the familiar "runner's high" rush of endorphins and began to relax at last.
He fell into an easy gait, concentrating on nothing but his breathing. Rounding a corner he slowed slightly, the sound of muffled voices reaching his ears. Dylan let his pace slacken even more as he strained to make out what was being said.
"Tyr, come on, just put it in the little hole!" Came Harper's frustrated voice.
"It would help if you would hold still!" Boomed Tyr's smooth baritone. Dylan frowned as he approached Machine Shop 17.
"Ow! Not so hard!" Harper yelped, "Watch out!" A pause, "That's better, just a little further..."
"Stop your sniveling, I know what I'm doing." Dylan could practically hear the sneer in Tyr's voice. Curious and a little alarmed, Dylan crept up to the open door and peered inside. All he could see from this vantage point was Tyr's backside as he loomed over a squirming form which could only be Harper.
"Aw! Man! You broke it! Now what the hell am I gonna do?" Harper wailed.
"It's not broke you big baby, just bent. Here, give it to me, I'll just bend it back into place."
"No! Tyr Don't! Ack! Now look what you've done, you broke it OFF!" Harper sounded near tears.
Dylan had heard enough, he stepped into the doorway, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything, gentlemen."
Harper and Tyr jumped up in surprise, both fully clothed and covered with grease. "Boss!" Harper exclaimed, slipping his hands behind his back, "What, ah, what are you doing up?"
"I could ask you two the same thing." Dylan said, relieved that he had been mistaken as to what had been transpiring. "Tyr, aren't you supposed to be on duty in command?"
Tyr gazed down at Harper, it was clear that he was not pleased. He made a wide sweeping gesture, allowing Harper the honor of explaining.
Harper took a step forward and began fiddling with an obviously broken connector, "Yeah, um...well, boss, it was supposed to be a surprise and ah, I needed Tyr's help with the heavy stuff." Harper waved his arms at the machine shop. "Tah-Da."
Dylan took a closer look. The first thing he noticed was an obvious lack of clutter. This being Harper's favorite workshop, there was always half-finished projects, tools and flexies piled nearly as high as he was tall. The second thing he noticed was wires and cords coiled in and around the main view screen. "Aren't those couches from Obs Deck?" Dylan said, indicating the furniture Harper and Tyr had been standing in front of. Harper swallowed hard and nodded. "Interesting," Dylan said, scratching the back of his head, obviously still clueless. "What is all this stuff?"
Harper broke into a grin, relieved he wasn't in trouble...yet. "This is our new clubhouse!" He said with pride. Tyr rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, trying not to let Harper's enthusiasm affect him.
"Clubhouse?" Dylan said, incredulous, "I guess I still don't get it."
"Well, I found out through, ah, unofficial channels that the ladies are at this minute holed up in the Maru engaging in what could only be described as "yucky stuff"." Harper made a face, "So I figured what's good for the goose is good for the gander and turned this place into an estrogen free zone. That's right, guys only, just us men, the Three Amigos."
"They wouldn't let you in, would they?" Dylan smirked.
Harper's shoulders slumped, "No! Not even after I promised to be good and give them all back rubs!" He glared in the general direction of the Maru and muttered, "Girl talks my ass, I bet they're laughing at us right now."
"Harper, calm down, why don't you show me what you've done here?" Dylan soothed.
Harper immediately perked up, "This is SO cool, I've really outdone myself this time."
Tyr sighed and leaned back against the wall, "Try not to break your arm patting yourself on the back."
Harper stuck his tongue out at Tyr then grabbed Dylan's sleeve and dragged him over to the wall display. "I've totally tripped this baby out. We've got 200-disk holo-vid machine, in-the-round theater sound system, a Play Station 3,000 video entertainment package, ah, it can even play music, I've programmed in all our favorites, even Tyr's classical music. Oh, and of course, what good is television without," Harper held up his hands in emphasis, "EVERY sports channel in the freakin' known worlds!"
Dylan looked mildly impressed, "Not bad, Mr. Harper."
"Oh, boss, that's not all!" Harper showed Dylan over to the sofas. "I've taken the liberty of adding a few "extra" features to the club's furniture, or, as I like to call them, Cadillacs for Couch Potato." Dylan and Tyr gave Harper a confused look, Harper dismissed them, "I'll explain later. Anyway, allow me to demonstrate." Harper sat on one of the couches, and flipped open the armrest to reveal a hidden panel with several buttons. Harper pressed one and out of the side of the sofa popped a pneumatic arm holding a can of Neubaren Weisbrau. Harper took the can and pressed another button, the chair began to hum and vibrate. When Harper spoke, his voice was quaking along with the chair, "It's a massager, ahhhhh...it also heats or cools, depending on whatcha like." He closed his eyes, obviously enjoying his creation.
"Ahem?" Dylan said, slightly annoyed.
"Oh, yeah, um..." Harper turned off the massage feature and stood up, "Over here we have a slightly modified Auto Chef."
"Modified how?" Dylan asked, slightly skeptical.
"I've programmed it to only make junk food. Ah, pretzels, popcorn, roasted peanuts, hot dogs, pizza, nachos and other delicacy's that only a man's palate can truly appreciate." Harper was positively beaming. "And the piece de resistance," Harper handed Dylan a massive remote control with at least a hundred buttons on it. "You can control the whole kit and caboodle with this little baby."
Dylan glanced from the remote to Harper's expectant face, "Well, Mr. Harper, you've really outdone yourself this time. Let's take this baby for a test drive, shall we?"
Harper practically jumped for joy, "Yes! We'll show those girls with their candles and their sling chairs, let them have their "girl talk" we've got beer, popcorn and surfing!"
Tyr had watched the entire exchange, appearing completely uninterested but when he heard the word "surfing" he decided it was time to make his presence known once again. "Surfing? I think not. Surfing is nothing more than a testament to humanity's self-destructive tendencies and I refuse to be associated with it. I suggest we watch a calm, peaceful game of golf."
"Golf!?" Harper cried. "You've got to be kidding me! That has to be THE most boring game in the entire universe."
"I'm afraid I have to agree with Harper on this one Tyr," Dylan said, "How about basketball? I hear the Persieds are in the playoffs."
"Ugh, Persied basketball?" Tyr grimaced. "I don't know what you humans see in that sport. If you ask me, it is a complete waste of energy, chasing other grown men back and forth across a field."
"Court, Tyr, it's a court." Dylan said dryly.
"Whatever." Tyr dismissed, "I will not sit here and be subjected to such an obvious display of inferiority. And further more..."
"Gentlemen, gentlemen," Harper interrupted attempting to diffuse the situation, "I have the answer to all our problems." Harper snatched the remote from Dylan and punched a series of buttons. The display crackled to life revealing women in string bikinis batting a white ball back and forth over a net. "Women's Beach Volleyball finals, live from Infinity Atoll." Harper said smugly.
"Works for me." Dylan said as he sat down without taking his eyes off the screen.
"Never let it be said that Tyr Anasazi does not compromise." Tyr said as he crossed to the opposite chair.
"Beach, beer and boobies, what more could a man ask for." Harper giggled at his clever comment and grabbed a tub of popcorn from the Auto Chef. He took a seat between Dylan and Tyr.
"Harper, I gotta hand it to you, this is actually fun." Dylan said as he sipped his beer and grabbed a handful of Harper's popcorn.
"Thanks boss!" Harper answered. He turned to Tyr and in a very deep, manly voice he said, "Yo, Tyr, want a brewski?"
Tyr tore his eyes off the Nietzschean team and glanced at Harper, "I do not drink."
Harper scoffed, "What? Too inferior for ya?"
"No, alcohol has no affect on Nietzschean physiology." Tyr said matter-of-factly.
"Oh, bummer for you!" Harper finished his second beer and was about to grab a third one when Andromeda's hologram flickered to life. She did not look amused as she took in the scene before her. Her Captain and Chief engineer were tipsy and Tyr was lounging in his chair in a most undignified manner.
She turned to Dylan, crossed her arms and opened her mouth to lecture when a handful of popcorn went fizzing right through her hologram. "No girls allowed!" Harper laughed, readying another volley.
Andromeda glared at Harper, "I am NOT a girl, I am a warship." She shook her head and put her nose a little higher in the air. "It's not my fault none of you thought to engage privacy mode."
Dylan took another sip of his beer and looked thoughtful. "You're absolutely right Andromeda, how thoughtless of me," He grabbed a scoop of popcorn and eyed the hologram, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
Andromeda's eyes widened, she glanced from the popcorn to her captain, "You wouldn't!" She exclaimed. He would and did, the hologram vanished a nanosecond before all three men pelted her with popcorn.
"Andromeda, engage privacy mode." Dylan chuckled. The AI didn't respond but the men noticed the temperature drop several degrees.
The three men lapsed into companionable silence. Each mesmerized by the display. Finally Dylan became a little restless. "So, what do you think the women are doing right now?"
Harper glanced at Tyr who nodded slightly, the two men loaded their hands with popcorn, pretzels and peanuts, Dylan didn't stand a chance.
THE END
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: If the Wheel is Fixed
ARCHIVE: Yes, ask first though please
DISCLAIMER: I do not own ANDROMEDA or any of its characters. They belong to the lucky folks at Tribune.
SUMMARY: Answer to club house challenge on SS--"Now that the girls have a clubhouse, where do Dylan, Tyr, and Harper set up their clubhouse? You know, to watch sports, drink brewskies, and let their guts hang out? (Apologies for that last mental image.):D "
**********************
Dylan let his mind wander as he jogged through one of Andromeda's many corridors. It was late and all was quiet. There were times he really missed having a full crew aboard his ship, but in moments like these, he was grateful for the peaceful ambiance a compliment of six provided. He had gone to bed several hours earlier only to find that sleep eluded him. His intelligent mind kept going over and over the events of the previous day, trying desperately to make sense of what he had experienced. Frustrated, he finally gave up, threw on some comfortable clothes and started running. Some of the tension left his body through the steady beat of his sneakers on the deck. Finally Dylan felt the familiar "runner's high" rush of endorphins and began to relax at last.
He fell into an easy gait, concentrating on nothing but his breathing. Rounding a corner he slowed slightly, the sound of muffled voices reaching his ears. Dylan let his pace slacken even more as he strained to make out what was being said.
"Tyr, come on, just put it in the little hole!" Came Harper's frustrated voice.
"It would help if you would hold still!" Boomed Tyr's smooth baritone. Dylan frowned as he approached Machine Shop 17.
"Ow! Not so hard!" Harper yelped, "Watch out!" A pause, "That's better, just a little further..."
"Stop your sniveling, I know what I'm doing." Dylan could practically hear the sneer in Tyr's voice. Curious and a little alarmed, Dylan crept up to the open door and peered inside. All he could see from this vantage point was Tyr's backside as he loomed over a squirming form which could only be Harper.
"Aw! Man! You broke it! Now what the hell am I gonna do?" Harper wailed.
"It's not broke you big baby, just bent. Here, give it to me, I'll just bend it back into place."
"No! Tyr Don't! Ack! Now look what you've done, you broke it OFF!" Harper sounded near tears.
Dylan had heard enough, he stepped into the doorway, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything, gentlemen."
Harper and Tyr jumped up in surprise, both fully clothed and covered with grease. "Boss!" Harper exclaimed, slipping his hands behind his back, "What, ah, what are you doing up?"
"I could ask you two the same thing." Dylan said, relieved that he had been mistaken as to what had been transpiring. "Tyr, aren't you supposed to be on duty in command?"
Tyr gazed down at Harper, it was clear that he was not pleased. He made a wide sweeping gesture, allowing Harper the honor of explaining.
Harper took a step forward and began fiddling with an obviously broken connector, "Yeah, um...well, boss, it was supposed to be a surprise and ah, I needed Tyr's help with the heavy stuff." Harper waved his arms at the machine shop. "Tah-Da."
Dylan took a closer look. The first thing he noticed was an obvious lack of clutter. This being Harper's favorite workshop, there was always half-finished projects, tools and flexies piled nearly as high as he was tall. The second thing he noticed was wires and cords coiled in and around the main view screen. "Aren't those couches from Obs Deck?" Dylan said, indicating the furniture Harper and Tyr had been standing in front of. Harper swallowed hard and nodded. "Interesting," Dylan said, scratching the back of his head, obviously still clueless. "What is all this stuff?"
Harper broke into a grin, relieved he wasn't in trouble...yet. "This is our new clubhouse!" He said with pride. Tyr rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, trying not to let Harper's enthusiasm affect him.
"Clubhouse?" Dylan said, incredulous, "I guess I still don't get it."
"Well, I found out through, ah, unofficial channels that the ladies are at this minute holed up in the Maru engaging in what could only be described as "yucky stuff"." Harper made a face, "So I figured what's good for the goose is good for the gander and turned this place into an estrogen free zone. That's right, guys only, just us men, the Three Amigos."
"They wouldn't let you in, would they?" Dylan smirked.
Harper's shoulders slumped, "No! Not even after I promised to be good and give them all back rubs!" He glared in the general direction of the Maru and muttered, "Girl talks my ass, I bet they're laughing at us right now."
"Harper, calm down, why don't you show me what you've done here?" Dylan soothed.
Harper immediately perked up, "This is SO cool, I've really outdone myself this time."
Tyr sighed and leaned back against the wall, "Try not to break your arm patting yourself on the back."
Harper stuck his tongue out at Tyr then grabbed Dylan's sleeve and dragged him over to the wall display. "I've totally tripped this baby out. We've got 200-disk holo-vid machine, in-the-round theater sound system, a Play Station 3,000 video entertainment package, ah, it can even play music, I've programmed in all our favorites, even Tyr's classical music. Oh, and of course, what good is television without," Harper held up his hands in emphasis, "EVERY sports channel in the freakin' known worlds!"
Dylan looked mildly impressed, "Not bad, Mr. Harper."
"Oh, boss, that's not all!" Harper showed Dylan over to the sofas. "I've taken the liberty of adding a few "extra" features to the club's furniture, or, as I like to call them, Cadillacs for Couch Potato." Dylan and Tyr gave Harper a confused look, Harper dismissed them, "I'll explain later. Anyway, allow me to demonstrate." Harper sat on one of the couches, and flipped open the armrest to reveal a hidden panel with several buttons. Harper pressed one and out of the side of the sofa popped a pneumatic arm holding a can of Neubaren Weisbrau. Harper took the can and pressed another button, the chair began to hum and vibrate. When Harper spoke, his voice was quaking along with the chair, "It's a massager, ahhhhh...it also heats or cools, depending on whatcha like." He closed his eyes, obviously enjoying his creation.
"Ahem?" Dylan said, slightly annoyed.
"Oh, yeah, um..." Harper turned off the massage feature and stood up, "Over here we have a slightly modified Auto Chef."
"Modified how?" Dylan asked, slightly skeptical.
"I've programmed it to only make junk food. Ah, pretzels, popcorn, roasted peanuts, hot dogs, pizza, nachos and other delicacy's that only a man's palate can truly appreciate." Harper was positively beaming. "And the piece de resistance," Harper handed Dylan a massive remote control with at least a hundred buttons on it. "You can control the whole kit and caboodle with this little baby."
Dylan glanced from the remote to Harper's expectant face, "Well, Mr. Harper, you've really outdone yourself this time. Let's take this baby for a test drive, shall we?"
Harper practically jumped for joy, "Yes! We'll show those girls with their candles and their sling chairs, let them have their "girl talk" we've got beer, popcorn and surfing!"
Tyr had watched the entire exchange, appearing completely uninterested but when he heard the word "surfing" he decided it was time to make his presence known once again. "Surfing? I think not. Surfing is nothing more than a testament to humanity's self-destructive tendencies and I refuse to be associated with it. I suggest we watch a calm, peaceful game of golf."
"Golf!?" Harper cried. "You've got to be kidding me! That has to be THE most boring game in the entire universe."
"I'm afraid I have to agree with Harper on this one Tyr," Dylan said, "How about basketball? I hear the Persieds are in the playoffs."
"Ugh, Persied basketball?" Tyr grimaced. "I don't know what you humans see in that sport. If you ask me, it is a complete waste of energy, chasing other grown men back and forth across a field."
"Court, Tyr, it's a court." Dylan said dryly.
"Whatever." Tyr dismissed, "I will not sit here and be subjected to such an obvious display of inferiority. And further more..."
"Gentlemen, gentlemen," Harper interrupted attempting to diffuse the situation, "I have the answer to all our problems." Harper snatched the remote from Dylan and punched a series of buttons. The display crackled to life revealing women in string bikinis batting a white ball back and forth over a net. "Women's Beach Volleyball finals, live from Infinity Atoll." Harper said smugly.
"Works for me." Dylan said as he sat down without taking his eyes off the screen.
"Never let it be said that Tyr Anasazi does not compromise." Tyr said as he crossed to the opposite chair.
"Beach, beer and boobies, what more could a man ask for." Harper giggled at his clever comment and grabbed a tub of popcorn from the Auto Chef. He took a seat between Dylan and Tyr.
"Harper, I gotta hand it to you, this is actually fun." Dylan said as he sipped his beer and grabbed a handful of Harper's popcorn.
"Thanks boss!" Harper answered. He turned to Tyr and in a very deep, manly voice he said, "Yo, Tyr, want a brewski?"
Tyr tore his eyes off the Nietzschean team and glanced at Harper, "I do not drink."
Harper scoffed, "What? Too inferior for ya?"
"No, alcohol has no affect on Nietzschean physiology." Tyr said matter-of-factly.
"Oh, bummer for you!" Harper finished his second beer and was about to grab a third one when Andromeda's hologram flickered to life. She did not look amused as she took in the scene before her. Her Captain and Chief engineer were tipsy and Tyr was lounging in his chair in a most undignified manner.
She turned to Dylan, crossed her arms and opened her mouth to lecture when a handful of popcorn went fizzing right through her hologram. "No girls allowed!" Harper laughed, readying another volley.
Andromeda glared at Harper, "I am NOT a girl, I am a warship." She shook her head and put her nose a little higher in the air. "It's not my fault none of you thought to engage privacy mode."
Dylan took another sip of his beer and looked thoughtful. "You're absolutely right Andromeda, how thoughtless of me," He grabbed a scoop of popcorn and eyed the hologram, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
Andromeda's eyes widened, she glanced from the popcorn to her captain, "You wouldn't!" She exclaimed. He would and did, the hologram vanished a nanosecond before all three men pelted her with popcorn.
"Andromeda, engage privacy mode." Dylan chuckled. The AI didn't respond but the men noticed the temperature drop several degrees.
The three men lapsed into companionable silence. Each mesmerized by the display. Finally Dylan became a little restless. "So, what do you think the women are doing right now?"
Harper glanced at Tyr who nodded slightly, the two men loaded their hands with popcorn, pretzels and peanuts, Dylan didn't stand a chance.
THE END