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A/N: Thanks very much to those who reviewed! I hope you won't be terribly disappointed when you realise this really has no plot... oops, did I say that out loud?

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Chapter Three: The last man on earth

Beka wasn't quite sure why she'd took off when she'd seen that uncomfortably familiar shape jump down from the window. The most reasonable explanation was of course their chance of getting back home. They'd agreed that finding Milon would be the only way to go about it, and surely, this had to be the second best. Yeah, second best, sure. Or the worst. Worst idea she'd had in... six months. Or ever.

As she reached the crowd that was gathering around the fighters, there was a loud wailing of sirens, and people started scattering in all directions. Great. Bodies were bumping off her from all sides, and in the tumult, she lost sight of her target. She got a quick glimpse of the swat team making a rapid approach, and then she was pulled backwards, around a corner, into another one of those narrow alleys that seemed so popular around here.

"Beka! Fancy seeing you here. Missed me that much?"

Oh yeah, it was him alright. The one she was looking for. The last man she wanted to see. Pitch was smiling at her, more or less cornering her against the wall.

"Oh, believe me, if I'd had things my way, I'd never have to see you again in my life!" she snapped.

"As far as I remember, you had things exactly your way..."

He was giving her that look again, his black eyes radiating heat that she could almost feel on her skin as he leaned closer. Yeah, she remembered it all too well. Having things her way. Only, it turned out that it hadn't really been her choice. He had used his ability to influence her judgement, make her feel things. She really didn't need to remember the things he had made her feel.

"Come on," he said, grabbing her hand.

"If you think I'm going anywhere with you, you must be even more full of yourself than I thought!"

"Would you rather go with them?"

He pointed with his thumb at the riot-gear clad policemen who were arresting people left and right, sweeping the area for any suspicious looking individuals. Under which category she would most likely fall in the eyes of the law.

"Spend a night in the lock-up, getting pawed by New City's finest perverts? And that's just the guards..."

Damn. He was right, that was the worst thing. She looked around one last time for Tyr and Harper, but there was no sign of them. Tyr could take care of himself, she didn't doubt that, and hopefully he'd look after Harper as well. She turned and ran, reluctantly following Pitch down the street.

"So, what brings you here then?" he asked as they finally stopped running.

She had always had a good sense of direction, but they had turned so many corners and taken so many short cuts that she really had no idea of how to get back to the square where she'd last seen her crewmates. She had a feeling that Pitch was quite aware of that fact, as well as happy about it, but she didn't like it one bit.

"Harper's machine. It activated by mistake. Sent us here. So, we need one of those channellers. I'm guessing you know where to find one?"

"Maybe. C'mon, let's go in here..."

He made a gesture towards a building with a large neon sign over the door. 'The Silver Club' it read. There was a queue of people outside, and two bouncers on the door.

"What's this, a bar? I'm not going to a bar with you! I just want to know where to get a channeller and then I have to find Tyr and Harper."

She had no intention of letting him distract her from the mission. Only, what mission? Okay, so the matters in hand then. She had to get back to the ship. Attend the diplomatic meeting... God, that would be boring. Would one quick drink really hurt that much? Now that she knew about his ability to... charm her, she wouldn't fall for it a second time, right?

He was still standing outside, waiting, just looking at her. So sure that she'd change her mind. Just one drink then, just while she waited for the police to go away so she could go back and look for Tyr and Harper. She knew what she was doing; she had complete control over the situation. Right?

The club was really classy, looked brand new. It was definitely not something you'd expect to find in the same town as those deserted, run down streets where they first had arrived. This was more like some place on a space drift, some place she would happily have chosen to spend shore leave at.

"What's your poison?" he asked, looking at her like that again.

Funny choice of words, that. He was poison. Like alcohol. The kind that would make you wake up the next morning swearing to yourself that this was the last time. Only, it never was, was it? And so she was back to the kind of thoughts she really didn't need to be thinking right now. Or ever.

"Whatever. I don't care," she said, shrugging her shoulders and struggling to sound sufficiently bored.

As he made his way to the bar, she looked around the room. The people in here looked like the rich and famous, no doubt about that. All the women were wearing glittery, skimpy dresses. She was wearing her pilot's uniform, standing out like a sore thumb. Ah, well, that didn't bother her. She noticed to her amusement how many of them were looking at Pitch, pretending they weren't. Obviously, he was a celebrity here, she knew that already. The way the bouncers had treated him was another proof. It was funny though; the envious, hateful glances she was getting from the other women. If they had only known how welcome they were to have him, as far as she was concerned. Been there, done that, she thought to herself, stifling a laugh before she remembered that that was the very reason she was angry with him in the first place. Wasn't going to make that mistake again. Not if he was the last man on earth.

"Let's go sit over here..."

He led her over to a table by the wall, a little bit out of the way of the main room. She sat down, across the table from him, not beside him. On second thoughts, that might have been an even worse idea, because it made it all too easy for him to look into her eyes.

"You look good," he said.

"Don't even start! The only reason I'm in here is because I'm waiting for those cops to clear off so I can go back and find Tyr and Harper."

"Sure," he smiled, "And I'm not starting anything, no need to be so defensive..."

Yeah, right. She picked up the glass he had bought her, looking at the silvery, translucent liquid inside. Wondering what it was but not really wanting to ask. Whatever it was, it looked like he was drinking the same thing, so she guessed he hadn't bought something horrible just to annoy her. She tasted it, finding it both sweet and refreshing. And strong. There was a lot of alcohol in this, and she had absolutely no delusions about the reason for that.

"So, how are things on the Andromeda?" he asked.

"Same as always. Non-stop action."

Her thoughts went to Dylan, rehearsing his speech and polishing his boots for the big meeting. She hadn't had a holiday in nearly a year. And the last time she had seen some non-stop... no! Terrible choice of words on the way. Some fun was what she meant; the last time she'd seen some fun had been... six months ago. Damn.

"I can imagine," he said.

"Well, do you know how we can get back or what?"

The smallest edge of annoyance was coming through in her voice. This wasn't good.

"Oh, you want my help?" he feigned surprise, "Well, it could be tricky. EterniVision is going bankrupt; their facilities are shutting down. You might be looking at a few weeks before something can be arranged..."

He was a damn liar. She knew very well that he was a damn good liar.

"I haven't got a few weeks! There must be some way..."

She swallowed her anger and took a deep breath. This was not going to work. He was holding all the cards, she didn't have a chance of getting back unless... He had tricked her last time. Used her, more like. Maybe it was time she got her own back? She sat back in her chair and eyed him up. What had she seen in him? Alright, so he was good looking. Well, he was... no, good looking was enough of admittance, she'd stick with that. And he was charming, only that was not a natural personality trait, it was all trickery. For which she would so not fall this time. Yeah, Beka, you've said that already. But he wasn't a nice guy. He'd broken Tyr's bone blade. He'd treated the rest of the crew with... indifference at best. He was bad news. Just the way she liked... did not like it! Yeah, that's right. Just the kind she made a point of staying the hell away from. Oh, that drink must have been stronger than she thought.

"I should go looking for Tyr and Harper," she said, finishing off the last of her drink.

"Sure. But if they've any brains, they've scarpered. The guards don't really take too kindly to people without proper identification... not to mention aliens."

He was right of course. Milon had never heard of a Nietzschean when he came to the Andromeda, which could only mean that the last thing Tyr should do here was getting involved with the law.

"Besides," Pitch continued, "it's getting kinda late. This town isn't very nice at night. Be easier to find them tomorrow."

"Alright. So do you know any hotel or something around here where I can go for the night?"

"Beka, let me tell you about hotels, okay? They're either damp, rat infested hell-holes that'll cost you about 10 creds a night, or they're over the top, luxury hell-holes that will cost you up to 100 credits a night. Provided you book in advance of course. Either case, I hope you brought your account card..."
He knew fully well she did not have an account card. Or any money at all that would be acceptable around here. She clenched her teeth. He was smiling at her. This was bad.

"So what do you suggest then?" she asked.

"I think you know your options."

Yeah, she knew. Didn't mean she was happy about them. He knew too. He could've at least said it for her, but no, he had to make her ask him, didn't he. She really didn't want to. Correction, she wasn't going to.

"I guess I'm sleeping rough then," she said coldly.

That only made him laugh of course.

"Beka, you know you can always ask me!" he said.

She hated him. She hated this. But she had no money, nowhere to go, no idea how to get back, no idea how to find Tyr and Harper. Swearing vigorously on the inside and vowing to get back at him for this, she said:

"What, are you offering?"

"Anytime."

He stood up and started walking out. She had no choice but to follow him. This was a bad, bad idea.