Author's Note: Jeez, it's been how long since I've updated? Two months? Gack! Too long! I'm seriously sorry about the delay, but I finally got enough time to write, type, and post this chapter. The next one should be coming along more quickly than this one did, since I've already got most of it written.

I noticed that readership on FFN has dropped off since they passed the edict about NC-17 fic. I appreciate any of you taking the time to read this and leave a review, especially now. Thanks.

And as for the legalities… The song used in this chapter is "What the World Needs Now is Love," as sung by Jackie Deshannon.

The Child

Chapter Five: Baby-sitting

By B.L.A. the Mouse

Tyr glanced up as Rommie rushed onto Command deck. "You're late," he drawled, glancing over her rather disheveled outfit. It was the one she had worn the day before, to be precise.

She caught the look. "The baby was up most of the night. I didn't have time to change before duty."

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. In the five weeks since Carmen had left, several things had changed aboard, and one of them was punctuality. Whereas Rommie had been on time more than anyone else- Dylan included- now she was late an even half the time. If the crewmember who was supposed to take over was late, if the child was fussing, if anything happened at all, she was delayed. Tyr supposed he should be grateful that no one had decided to attack them lately.

Rommie knew him well enough that she recognized his silence as damning. It had not been her fault that Beka was late, and she could hardly leave the baby alone. "Dylan wants to see you. You'd better go to his office," she said, grateful for the excuse to get rid of him.

"And he told you this when you were rushing to get here on time?"

"He stopped me on the way up."

Tyr regarded her a moment longer before leaving Command, and she breathed a short sigh of relief that he was gone. He had an attitude at the most inconvenient times.

"Ah, Tyr. Please, sit." Dylan greeted as his office door opened.

The Nietzschean didn't disregard the statement. Instead, he glanced at the chair impassively and remained standing just inside the room. "What did you want me for?"

Dylan stood. May as well be on equal footing with him, considering his request. "You are aware of the meeting with the Perseids and Castalians in a few days?"

"The ship has only talked about one other thing."

"Yeah, about that... Theres a problem," the captain continued. "Beka and Trance sent a message back that theyve been delayed for another week. Rommie and I are needed to help with the diplomats. The Perseids like Harper, so that counts him in. Unfortunately, that leaves no one to take care of the baby, and as the Castalians aren't overly fond of Nietzscheans, that means-"

"That you want me to baby-sit," Tyr finished flatly.

"Essentially."

"No."

Rommie moved purposefully around the room, babe in arms. "...He'll need feeding approximately every four hours. I think that's it. Anything else?"

"No." The very disgruntled Nietzschean stood in the center of the room and glared, mostly in general or at Rommie, but occasionally at the baby as well. The latter stared back in wide-eyed amazement at the stranger, a contrast to the familiar faces of Rommie, Beka, Trance, and Dylan. "I can't believe I let the good captain talk me into this."

"Look on the bright side. When you rebuild Kodiak pride, you'll know how to take care of all the children."

The glare intensified. "That's what he said."

"Oh-kay, never mind then." I am not going to touch that one. "You've got everything. I'm not sure how long the meetings will be, but if it's longer than a few hours I'll call to check." She touched the baby's hand lightly, then straightened her uniform and headed out the door.

Tyr scrutinized the child. The child scrutinized Tyr. The gazes were both suspicious and measuring. Finally, the baby finished his examination of the person holding him, extended one arm and batted at a braid. The Nietzschean blinked and frowned down at him, who managed to wrap his hand around a braid and pull. Tyr added a raised eyebrow to the mix and growled lightly.

Normally, that would have been more than enough to scare an adult, with the exception of the most hardened people and Dylan. This kid, though- less than two months and five kilos- just pulled harder.

To his own surprise, Tyr smiled. "You're not lacking in boldness," he said musingly, "but you need to work on judgment."

The baby returned a toothless grin and cooed, not relinquishing his hold on Tyr's hair. The Nietzschean sat down carefully on the nearby sofa, trying not to shift the infant too much. He felt that he should be saying something, but he wasn't sure what, and he doubted that Nietzsche or Machiavelli would be appropriate for a six-week-old. Finally, he settled on subject matter of a sort. "My son," he started, "was born a few months before you."

He paused and looked at the child, who appeared absorbed, staring at Tyr. "My wife named him Tamerlane, after an old Earth conqueror. It was an appropriate choice. Because of him I could have taken over a pride."

Tyr continued, telling about his own child, only making sure that nothing he said would make the ship suspicious if it listened in. As he spoke, he pondered the similarity of complexions. In his study of the baby only a few moments before, he'd noticed the dark coloring- black hair, deep brown eyes, skin appearing heavily tanned. He had noted the similarity between holding this child and his own; now as he thought, he realized that those same hues resembled Carmen, of course, but also Rommie.

Rommie checked the time. She, Dylan, and Harper had been talking to their allies for two hours now, and still weren't finished. Every new topic seemed to bring every dissident on the council out of the woodwork. She threw a quick glance over to Dylan- he caught her eyes and nodded. They'd arranged beforehand that she could leave for a moment and call up to Andromeda after a few hours.

As soon as she had slid out the door, ignoring strange looks from uninformed diplomats, she activated her comm. "Andromeda, patch me through to Tyr."

"Youre not even going to say hello?" the AI groused, but put her on.

"How is he?"

Tyr answered, sounding somewhat off-center, "He's fine. And before you ask, he's asleep."

"Good." Rommie smiled in amusement at the anticipation of her question. "I meant to tell you before I left, but I got distracted. If you have some real problems with him, activate program BL, subdirectory three, four, or five. One of them usually calms him down."

She could almost hear the puzzlement in his voice, not at all concealed. "You're not going to tell me what those are, are you?"

"No." For some reason, she took great satisfaction in saying that.

Tyr, exasperated, sighed heavily. "Get back up here. I am not a baby-sitter."

"But Tyr, don't you want to bond with him?" Laughing at the grumbling she heard over the line, she cut it off. She still had a slight smile playing over her face when she went back into the conference room. She did like baiting Tyr on occasion.

Besides, however much she liked the baby, she still appreciated the occasional break. Asides from that though, by now she wanted to get back to the ship. The politicians were getting on her nerves, for one. For another, she didn't trust Tyr any farther than she could throw him, and even given that distance she was a little leery.

Tyr stared at the page. It was going on four hours and he was getting bored. The child had been asleep most of the time, so he was reduced to reading and not much else. He sighed out of sheer frustration and continued, wishing that something distracting would happen.

Not for long, though. Only a moment later, a rising wail emanated from the crib in the corner. He marveled at the combination of the appropriateness of the timing and the fact that he really should be more careful as to what he wished for as he got up to take care of the baby.

Two and a half hours later, he was almost forced to concede defeat. He'd tried feeding, changing, rocking, and pretty much everything he knew of, had seen the mothers in his pride doing, or even heard of in the most tenuous connection, in some cases repeatedly.

Finally, he decided to go to his last line of defense. "Andromeda, run program BL, subdirectory three."

He wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't a slightly mocking voice saying, "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure," he said over the cries, getting annoyed. "Are you actually going to play it, or are you going to debate? Personally, I would prefer the first option."

"Of course."

He could hear the smirk in her voice. A moment later, soft, almost too-sickly-sweet strains of music filled the room, followed shortly by a feminine voice in the same style, just loud enough to be heard. "What the world needs now is love, sweet love..."

Tyr grimaced. The baby, on the other hand, lessened his decibel level perceptibly.

"It's the only thing that there's just too little of," the singer crooned.

The child was almost silent by now, the volume of the song being lowered accordingly. After thinking about it for a moment, Tyr realized that the song was probably furnished by Harper- who else? "So the boy has proved his worth once again," he muttered darkly.

But couldn't he have chosen a better song?

Rommie fidgeted impatiently. They had finally concluded the discussion after five hours straight, and now the closing ceremonies were dragging on for an hour so far.

She wanted to get back to the Andromeda. This was the longest period she had been away from the baby since he had come under her care, and she was worried, especially given the caretaker for today.

Whenever Dylan glanced over, he could see her tension, and he couldn't blame her. The ceremonies were long and dull no matter what, and he knew that she would be jumpy about the baby. While he didn't encourage concern for him beyond his general health and happiness, even that would account for Rommie getting unnerved.

It took another half hour, almost two total hours of ceremonies, before everything finally ended and the diplomats started leaving. The captain wove his way through the crowd to Rommie. "Ready to go home?"

"More than ready." She was, too. Had been for the last few hours. "Let's just find Harper and go."

Tyr heard the door whirr open, but discounted it without even looking up. No heartbeat, familiar tread- it was Rommie. Speaking softly, trying not to wake the child he held, he advised, "Be careful. He's been awake for almost three hours, he just fell asleep."

"How was he?" She walked over and stood facing him, looking down at the baby. The latter had that sweet-and-innocent look. Tyr, on the other hand, looked very tense and dangerous.

"Compared to some adults I'm familiar with, he was easy to handle."

Rommie held her arms out and Tyr passed over the baby. The infant started to fuss, but she gave him a finger to hold; he took it and drifted off again. She went over to the bed and gently set him in it, trying very hard not to jar him.

She stared at him a moment longer, examining him visually and with her sensors. It didn't hurt to check, after all. She almost forgot Tyr was in the room, she was so absorbed, until he came up behind her and muttered, "Am I to assume you're pleased that I didn't accidentally kill him?"

She whirled around, startled. Her reflexes were fast- he glanced down to see her hand hovering above his solar plexus by only a bare few millimeters. "Sorry," she said, not particularly remorseful.

"I'm sure." Nonetheless, he backed off. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, but a ticked warship was worse.

Rommie glanced back at the slumbering baby, then faced the Nietzschean, now standing about ten paces away. She caught his intent, studying gaze before it reverted to his bored mask. Straightening her back, she folded her arms and ordered, "Tell me."

While the order was hardly clear, Tyr did get the general idea. "You're familiar with the species my pride is named for." Despite the flat tone, it was a question, plain and simple.

It took her a minute to find it, buried as it was in the back of her database. Even then, it was only there as a reference point for Nietzschean pride names, along with Orca and Jaguar and such. "Ursus arctas. Kodiak bear, also known as brown or grizzly. Native to the North American section of Earth's surface, died out during the Second Industrial Revolution. Omnivore that grew to sizes of-"

"I see you understand the reference," he interrupted smoothly. Miffed, she glared at him, but listened anyway as he continued, curious as to the point of this. He didn't change his expression, but was amused at the intentness that she was paying to this. "One of the more renowned traits of the Kodiak, along with strength and power, was the mother's protectiveness of her young. If there was any tampering by another creature, of the same or different species, she would attack and allow her cubs to get to safety, usually killing or severely injuring her opponent." He paused for full effect. "Your behavior regarding this child is similar."

She realized that he was finished, and asked perfunctorily, "Are you done?"

Tyr smiled, that disarming grin that tended to make anyone nearby very, very nervous, especially the one it was aimed at. Naturally, it had absolutely no effect on Rommie. "Not quite."

When she made no response, he went on. "I was wondering why you have not named the child yet."

Rommie opened her mouth, then closed it again. It hadn't actually occurred to her.

"My suggestion would be to do it. He needs a name. And don't," he anticipated any protest, "say that it wouldn't be right for you to name him. It is a parent's job to ensure that the child has an appropriate one." He softened, just a little, as he said, "Freya named our son before I even knew that he was in existence."

"But I'm not his parent." The protest slid from her lips before she knew she was going to say it. Something about associating with Tyr always made her argumentative nature kick in, but this time she hadn't meant to say anything. She didn't make any attempt to retract the statement however, too busy berating herself for lack of control.

He shook his head, almost laughing. "Ship, haven't you heard a word Ive said?"

Tyr left before she could reply, leaving her standing in the middle of the room with her mouth open. She thought about what the point of those entire speeches were, eyes widening as it clicked.