Author's Note: Warning, mild shippiness ahoy!

Rainbowscape, Cassie, darkshadow-23, thank you so much for letting me know what you think. Don't worry, something will happen, I promise.

The Child

Chapter Ten: Undercover

By B.L.A. the Mouse

Beka stared at the flexi in her hand, bringing up yet another news report on the computer screen. She was distracted from it by the sound of the door opening. "Tyr?" she called.

"Yes." He came through the open door between the foyer and the main room, carrying a bag.

"Is that dinner?"

"Yes," he repeated.

"Great! I'm starved." She got to her feet, dropping the flexi on the desk, and tried to peek into the bag as he passed her. "What is it?"

"Sandwiches." Dodging her, he went over to the kitchen area and started taking out the food.

She frowned as she followed him over. "Didn't we have those night before last?"

"Do you want to eat, or do you want to cook for us for a change?" He braced his arms against the counter as he waited for her response.

Beka sat at one of the stools by the counter. "You know, I love sandwiches," she stage-whispered confidentially.

He grinned and continued unpacking the bag.

Being stuck in a tiny apartment of three rooms and a miniature foyer demanded getting to know each other better. He'd found out by now that Beka hated cooking, loved hot showers, and preferred the left side of the bed. On the other hand, she'd discovered that he played opera and stole the covers- he'd been woken up more than once by having her tug at the blankets. Since they were supposed to be living together, it would have been hard to explain two beds; they'd finally had to settle for sleeping together in the middle. As a direct result of that decision, she'd also discovered that he had a tendency to hug her in his sleep. She'd been sworn not to tell anyone, but she thought it was funny that the big bad mercenary would treat her almost like a stuffed animal.

"So did you get anything else we could use?" Tyr asked, lifting the sandwich she had started to construct and slid a plate under it.

She glared at him briefly, but said, "Not yet. I only got partway through, but," she paused to lick a bit of spread off of one finger, "if we split the list we can finish it tonight. Did you get anything to drink?"

"Don't we have any coffee left?"

"No, I finished it. Tea, maybe? Anything you had planned for tonight?"

"Tea, then." He started pulling out the mugs. "No, we can get it done then."

*****

They'd spent the last six weeks on a small planet near San-Ska-Ra, on rather sensitive mission. As a "service" for the New Commonwealth, they'd been ordered to go undercover to gather information on a crimelord operating in the area. Since the crew of the Andromeda was considered the Commonwealth's best and brightest, they were trusted with it.

As everyone else was needed, in some way, onboard, Beka and Tyr were selected. Since some of the crew- namely Harper- had decided that it would be an effective disguise, and that they made a "cute couple," they had been set up as lovers, living together. Beka had nearly decked him for that, and Tyr had had to practice a great deal of self-restraint to keep from doing the same with much more force.

By necessity, the mission was very hush-hush, as the crimelord in question, Jasper Markio, was known for being very alert, very careful, and very vindictive. Knowledge in the computer core and AI matrix was shrouded in so many levels of security that it was nearly impossible to find.

Still, whatever the reasons, the end result was the same- they were sitting in a cramped apartment planetside, going through new reports for anything on Jasper Markio.

Beka skimmed another flexi. She was about to clear it when a tacked-on comment caught her eye. "Hey, he just got married."

"What?" Tyr looked over from where he was hunched over another flexi.

"Yeah, second time. Or third, they're not sure which. Here." She cleared her throat before reading, "'His newest wife hasn't been seen or identified by any of the public or any of his known conspirators. She is, in fact, a complete mystery, a woman with no known background or identity, in direct contrast to his deceased spouse, a noted actress.' Huh. Wonder what she did to tick him off."

"She could have died of natural causes."

"Yeah, but I don't think having your throat slit counts as a natural cause. Ugh." She set the flexi down. "May as well add it to the list."

"Done." He glanced up in time to catch the tail end of her yawn. "It's late. We should probably go to bed."

"I vote yes." She took his proffered hand and got pulled to her feet. "You realize that we have two weeks before we head back to Andromeda?"

"I noticed." He looked down again as she leaned on his arm while they walked. "Anything you think you might miss?"

"Hot water, fresh food, and a warm body in the bed."

"Get a pet," he advised. He managed to dodge the playful swat, but the glare was a little harder to avoid.

She yawned again and stretched as they entered the bedroom, pushing off him. "I'm grabbing a shower. See you in the bed."

He watched her disappear into the bathroom, shaking his head slightly.

They had two more weeks until they returned. They couldn't risk exposure any longer than that. As it was, they still had to find a few more pieces of evidence before then, or else Markio was going to weasel out of any sort of sentence and go back to his former unscrupulous activities.