Disclaimer: The crew of Andromeda belongs to Tribune Entertainment, I receive no money for this piece of fiction. It is strictly for entertainment.
A/N Thank you all for the reviews, they are truly appreciated.
Harper smiled to himself as he watched Dylan zap his hand again, "You're not being gentle enough with her. I told you before, she's sensitive, not like Rommie. She has to be coaxed, not ordered."
Dylan looked at him in disbelief, "You talk about the Ships as if they are women. And what do you mean, Andromeda's not sensitive? She is over three hundred years old."
"Yes, and she a High Guard War ship, and she was built by whole teams of engineers and professionals. The Maru, on the other hand…" pulling his blanket tighter around his shoulders, Harper deserted his perch and caressed the grid, "she needs a gentle touch. She needs her wiring to be just so, she's very delicate. Don't get me wrong; Rommie's gorgeous, but being a war ship, she can take a beating and come out the same, if not better on the other side."
"Ok… um, Harper, I really hate to break up this love affair you seem to be having with this ship, but your sensitive sweetheart also has to get us off this planet." Harper broke into a violent fit of coughing while Dylan spoke. He took the smaller man by the shoulders and set him down on the crates and other pieces of debris that was being used as a seat. "Besides, you're sick and Beka will have my head if you get any worse. She will probably have yours, too. Just give me instructions from right here, and we'll both be just fine."
"Whatever you say, you're the captain. Now, just ease that blue wire into the casing. That's it, nice and easy. Good girl, you know you want to give us a hand here, Baby."
When he was finished, Dylan turned around to gape at his engineer. It had taken him a split second to realize that Harper had stopped talking to him and was now talking to the ship. That was another oddity about his crewmembers that he would have to get used to. One names her plants; another talks to ships as if they were in love. Pretty weird.
"All right, Harper, now what? Harper?" Dylan twisted his body to face him. He had fallen asleep, his head lulled backward and slightly to the side, resting on his own shoulder. Dylan smiled and pulled the blanket more closely around him. Then he put his hand on Harper's forehead. He was warm. A sense of worry tugged at his heart, and he gathered the still, small form in his arms and took him back to his bed.
Harper groaned when he felt himself being moved again. "Pease, just let me die, it would be a lot less painful."
"Sorry, can't do that," Dylan told him, draping another quilt over him as he spoke, "Beka would kill me."
"Fine, if you can't let me die with some sense of dignity, at least grab me those tissues, I think I'm gonna start sneezing again here pretty quick."
The box landed on his stomach. Dylan and Harper looked over to the doorway that framed Beka, "I heard." She glanced at Dylan, "What happened to him?"
They both jumped as Harper started sneezing explosively, "That happened. Actually, it was coughing, but you get the general idea. It was strange, really, one minute he was talking about how much in love with our ships he was, then the next, BAM! It hit him and he was out like a light. I tried to get him into bed without waking him, but I didn't quite make it."
"Harper's a light sleeper. I'm surprised that you made it this far without waking him up. He must have been really tired or he would have woken when you first moved him."
Dylan looked over at him, "He'll be fine, I'm sure. I really need to get those engines fixed."
"Maybe I should have a look at them, she's my ship, after all. I know her quite well."
"What about the homing device?"
"Ask him, he's the one who fried it beyond all recognition" She glared at Harper, who was finishing up and blowing his nose rather loudly.
"Look Beka," came the muffled reply. He pulled the tissue away from his face, "I did not 'fry it beyond all recognition'. That was because of the storm. I just tweaked it a little. And need I remind you that without me, there would be no H. D." He gave her his best, "no one really appreciates true brilliance" look then nestled under the covers and allowed himself to feel bad again.
Beka felt guilty, as she always did when she got after him when he was sick. She knelt by his bed and pushed a renegade piece of slightly damp hair out of his eyes, "I'm sorry, Seamus. I know it wasn't your fault. I just get so frustrated and end up taking it out on the nearest person. Too often that's you."
"Then remind me to stand farther away from you when you're frustrated. Take it out on Dylan." He murmured sleepily.
"Hey you two, leave me strictly out of you squabbles."
"What squabbles?" Harper quipped lightly as he drifted off.
"He's gone now. He won't wake up for a while, I hope. Let's go have a look at those engines while he's still sleeping. I know how much he hates having anyone but him mess with them when he isn't supervising. He just about took my head off when I made some very minor repairs while he was sick with something or another. And the Maru is my ship."
"I guess he feels that this is the only place where he is really understood and the only thing that he feels proud of. No one can fix a broken piece of machinery as well as Harper. And he knows it."
"He's not really that cocky, you know. He just puts up this front so that no one can make fun of him or see how… I mean, he just wants to be obnoxious." She would not discuss Harper private fears with someone who hardly knew him. A feeling of inadequacy was what drove him to be so brilliant and what caused him to act so full of himself. She was thankful that only she and perhaps Rev seemed to understand this. They had never talked to him about it, they just let him continue to be Harper, and that little bit of knowledge was the only thing that prevented them from strangling or eating him at times.
Beka inspected the engines, "Man, that storm did a number on us, didn't it?" She straightened up, hands on her hips. "Well, I'm no engineer, but I can try to get us off the ground. It'll take time, though. I sure could use some help."
"I'm not an engineer, either, but between the two of us, we might be able to figure something out. I just need to try to remember my basic repair lessons."
"Be serious, this isn't some High Guard ship. We can't fall back on what we learned in school, that just doesn't work here. We need to think like Harper."
Dylan bit his tongue to keep from making a comment about what kind of thoughts Harper generally had. Now was neither the time nor the place. Besides, Beka hadn't been joking when she said that she would lash out at the nearest person when she was flustered. "How would we go about thinking like him?"
She sighed, looking defeated, "I don't know. That's the bad thing about him. Aside from women and machines in general, no one knows what he's thinking. He's too odd and private about what's really going on in that head of his. Besides, I don't think it would do any good even if we did know what happens in his mind, he's too disorganized."
Inwardly, Dylan agreed. He had seen him jump from one project to three more without even blinking. There never seemed to have any rhyme or reason to his actions. When he was tired of something he would just jump over to something else.
"I hate to disturb him, but I think he's the only one who can fix this."
A/N Thank you all for the reviews, they are truly appreciated.
Harper smiled to himself as he watched Dylan zap his hand again, "You're not being gentle enough with her. I told you before, she's sensitive, not like Rommie. She has to be coaxed, not ordered."
Dylan looked at him in disbelief, "You talk about the Ships as if they are women. And what do you mean, Andromeda's not sensitive? She is over three hundred years old."
"Yes, and she a High Guard War ship, and she was built by whole teams of engineers and professionals. The Maru, on the other hand…" pulling his blanket tighter around his shoulders, Harper deserted his perch and caressed the grid, "she needs a gentle touch. She needs her wiring to be just so, she's very delicate. Don't get me wrong; Rommie's gorgeous, but being a war ship, she can take a beating and come out the same, if not better on the other side."
"Ok… um, Harper, I really hate to break up this love affair you seem to be having with this ship, but your sensitive sweetheart also has to get us off this planet." Harper broke into a violent fit of coughing while Dylan spoke. He took the smaller man by the shoulders and set him down on the crates and other pieces of debris that was being used as a seat. "Besides, you're sick and Beka will have my head if you get any worse. She will probably have yours, too. Just give me instructions from right here, and we'll both be just fine."
"Whatever you say, you're the captain. Now, just ease that blue wire into the casing. That's it, nice and easy. Good girl, you know you want to give us a hand here, Baby."
When he was finished, Dylan turned around to gape at his engineer. It had taken him a split second to realize that Harper had stopped talking to him and was now talking to the ship. That was another oddity about his crewmembers that he would have to get used to. One names her plants; another talks to ships as if they were in love. Pretty weird.
"All right, Harper, now what? Harper?" Dylan twisted his body to face him. He had fallen asleep, his head lulled backward and slightly to the side, resting on his own shoulder. Dylan smiled and pulled the blanket more closely around him. Then he put his hand on Harper's forehead. He was warm. A sense of worry tugged at his heart, and he gathered the still, small form in his arms and took him back to his bed.
Harper groaned when he felt himself being moved again. "Pease, just let me die, it would be a lot less painful."
"Sorry, can't do that," Dylan told him, draping another quilt over him as he spoke, "Beka would kill me."
"Fine, if you can't let me die with some sense of dignity, at least grab me those tissues, I think I'm gonna start sneezing again here pretty quick."
The box landed on his stomach. Dylan and Harper looked over to the doorway that framed Beka, "I heard." She glanced at Dylan, "What happened to him?"
They both jumped as Harper started sneezing explosively, "That happened. Actually, it was coughing, but you get the general idea. It was strange, really, one minute he was talking about how much in love with our ships he was, then the next, BAM! It hit him and he was out like a light. I tried to get him into bed without waking him, but I didn't quite make it."
"Harper's a light sleeper. I'm surprised that you made it this far without waking him up. He must have been really tired or he would have woken when you first moved him."
Dylan looked over at him, "He'll be fine, I'm sure. I really need to get those engines fixed."
"Maybe I should have a look at them, she's my ship, after all. I know her quite well."
"What about the homing device?"
"Ask him, he's the one who fried it beyond all recognition" She glared at Harper, who was finishing up and blowing his nose rather loudly.
"Look Beka," came the muffled reply. He pulled the tissue away from his face, "I did not 'fry it beyond all recognition'. That was because of the storm. I just tweaked it a little. And need I remind you that without me, there would be no H. D." He gave her his best, "no one really appreciates true brilliance" look then nestled under the covers and allowed himself to feel bad again.
Beka felt guilty, as she always did when she got after him when he was sick. She knelt by his bed and pushed a renegade piece of slightly damp hair out of his eyes, "I'm sorry, Seamus. I know it wasn't your fault. I just get so frustrated and end up taking it out on the nearest person. Too often that's you."
"Then remind me to stand farther away from you when you're frustrated. Take it out on Dylan." He murmured sleepily.
"Hey you two, leave me strictly out of you squabbles."
"What squabbles?" Harper quipped lightly as he drifted off.
"He's gone now. He won't wake up for a while, I hope. Let's go have a look at those engines while he's still sleeping. I know how much he hates having anyone but him mess with them when he isn't supervising. He just about took my head off when I made some very minor repairs while he was sick with something or another. And the Maru is my ship."
"I guess he feels that this is the only place where he is really understood and the only thing that he feels proud of. No one can fix a broken piece of machinery as well as Harper. And he knows it."
"He's not really that cocky, you know. He just puts up this front so that no one can make fun of him or see how… I mean, he just wants to be obnoxious." She would not discuss Harper private fears with someone who hardly knew him. A feeling of inadequacy was what drove him to be so brilliant and what caused him to act so full of himself. She was thankful that only she and perhaps Rev seemed to understand this. They had never talked to him about it, they just let him continue to be Harper, and that little bit of knowledge was the only thing that prevented them from strangling or eating him at times.
Beka inspected the engines, "Man, that storm did a number on us, didn't it?" She straightened up, hands on her hips. "Well, I'm no engineer, but I can try to get us off the ground. It'll take time, though. I sure could use some help."
"I'm not an engineer, either, but between the two of us, we might be able to figure something out. I just need to try to remember my basic repair lessons."
"Be serious, this isn't some High Guard ship. We can't fall back on what we learned in school, that just doesn't work here. We need to think like Harper."
Dylan bit his tongue to keep from making a comment about what kind of thoughts Harper generally had. Now was neither the time nor the place. Besides, Beka hadn't been joking when she said that she would lash out at the nearest person when she was flustered. "How would we go about thinking like him?"
She sighed, looking defeated, "I don't know. That's the bad thing about him. Aside from women and machines in general, no one knows what he's thinking. He's too odd and private about what's really going on in that head of his. Besides, I don't think it would do any good even if we did know what happens in his mind, he's too disorganized."
Inwardly, Dylan agreed. He had seen him jump from one project to three more without even blinking. There never seemed to have any rhyme or reason to his actions. When he was tired of something he would just jump over to something else.
"I hate to disturb him, but I think he's the only one who can fix this."