It was their last training session together. Charlemagne currently had Meaghan pinned to the floor, again.

"You're not trying, Meg," he complained. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she murmured evasively, trying and failing to dislodge him.

"Liar," he accused softly. "I can teach you to fight, but I don't think anyone could make a convincing liar out of you."

"I thought it sounded a little more polite than 'Charlemagne, I'm not going to tell you.'" Meaghan said.

His eyes took on a calculating cast. "Really. Suppose I make you tell me?"

"Do you honestly think you can?" she challenged him.

"Do you think that I don't already know?" he riposted. "It's about us, and the fact that I'll be leaving soon, isn't it?"

Meaghan's face clouded over. "I don't want to think about it. We both have responsibilities that we can't shirk, but the thought of never seeing you again makes me feel.., empty."

At that point Charlemagne felt that he had no option but to kiss her soundly. Then the sound of footsteps nearby made him jerk his head back abruptly.

"Excuse me." Bekka didn't sound all that sorry. "I had a little free time and wanted to see how things are going. And if that's how you managed to motivate her, Charlemagne, it's no wonder I didn't have any luck."

Charlemagne rose to his feet, pulling Meaghan up with him. He decided to brazen things out and pretend that the kiss never happened. "It's not going well at all today, she won't concentrate on what she's supposed to be doing."

Bekka caught the implied message to forget what she had seen. "You're not getting all mopey again, are you Mom?"

"Mopey?" Charlemagne queried, "when was this?"

"While all you diplomatic types were at the conference," the XO explained. "What was that phrase I heard you use once, Mom? Miserable as a wet cat? And how do you know about cats? They've been extinct a long time."

"Have they really?" Meaghan's eyes widened. "What a shame."

"If you ladies are going to stand here chatting," Charlemagne remarked. "Then, rather than stay here and feel redundant, I believe I'll be going." He bowed and left.

Bekka watched Meaghan watching him go. "Oh, Mom, what have you done?" she asked quietly.

Meaghan turned to her. "You know what I've done, Bekka, I've fallen in love."

&&&&&&&&

It was a formal party that night, a good-bye to all the delegates. Meaghan wandered around, being sweetly polite, and taking in not one word that was said to her. As usual, her eyes sought out Charlemagne, and found him talking to Bekka, of all people. This was the first time Dylan's exec. had attended one of the formal functions. Eaten up with curiosity, she went over to them.

"Bekka." She smiled at her. "Gotten over your allergies?"

"Very funny, Mom, but I really prefer to leave this sort of thing to other people." Bekka in her very informal clothes did look a little out of place. "I had a message to deliver, and now that I've done that, I think I'll just leave before I break out in hives."

The Nietzschean studied the look on the pretty red-head's face. "You're quite fond of her, aren't you?"

"She's my friend," Meaghan said simply. "What was the message that she had to deliver?"

"Evidently there has been an outbreak of life or death emergencies on the home-worlds of all the delegates, with the exception of me," Charlemagne informed her. "Therefore, since it is imperative that all the others get home at the soonest possible moment, I shall be the last one returned." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Bekka gave us one more day together, Meg."

"I told you she's my friend." She smiled up at him. "Isn't that the sort of thing you do for friends?"

"Nietzscheans don't," he remarked. "A Nietzschean always considers what he'll get out of the bargain. Altruism isn't in our vocabulary."

"Is that why it seems to bother you so?" she queried gently. "Because now you feel you owe Bekka something?"

"Maybe something like that," Charlemagne sighed. "Still, this will be our last opportunity to dance together, Meg, shall we?" He held out his hand.

She clasped his extended hand. "Far be it from me to shirk my duties, your grace," she murmured, but ruined it all with the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Your grace, indeed," Charlemagne whispered in her ear as they danced. "You'll pay for that later, my lady."

&&&&&&&

That night as they lay tired and sated in each other's arms, Charlemagne remarked, "You don't have to stay here, you know. I have a very extensive personal staff. I could find a place for you. Then we could be together."

Meaghan lay with her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat, just enjoying the closeness of him for a moment before she answered. "Everything I have I owe to Dylan and the crew of the Andromeda. And just doing the little that I can makes me feel as if I'm contributing to something important. I can't ignore that, and as much as I want to be with you, I can't let you create a place for me just so I can be your guilty secret."

"I could never feel guilty about you, Meg," Charlemagne protested. "And I wouldn't be creating a place for you, you're intelligent and competent, you would be an asset."

"Thank you, love," she responded. "Knowing how Nietzscheans are about such things I feel very complimented, but it doesn't change my answer, it can't."

"I don't want us to be parted, Meg," he pleaded. "I feel as if I've only really started living the last few days."

"I love you," she said simply, "but I just can't leave the Andromeda."

"I understand," he answered sadly, but he was afraid that he really didn't.

&&&&&&&

Since Charlemagne was the last of the delegates to debark, and because he was a familiar face, most of the senior staff were in the docking bay to see him off.

"Good-bye, Charlemagne." Dylan clasped his hand warmly. "And thank you for standing up for Meaghan."

"My pleasure, captain," the Nietzschean replied.

Harper was next. He still thought the Nietzschean was a bit pretentious and over-dressed, but.., he extended his hand, and when Charlemagne took it said, "You're all right, I guess. You're the only Nietzschean I've ever really talked to, except Tyr.., and your wife," he added as an afterthought. Then his tongue ran away as it often did and Seamus spoke his mind without thinking. "Man, she's hot."

Charlemagne couldn't manage to suppress a smile. "I'll tell Elsbeth you said so." And watched Harper turn crimson to the roots of his hair.

"This is your stop, I believe," quipped Bekka.

"It is indeed," he answered, then on sudden impulse, he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you, Bekka."

A look of mutual understanding passed between them, then Bekka was gone.

To his surprise, even the ship's avatar was there.

"Good-bye, Charlemagne," Rommie said.

"Take care of her for me please," the Nietzschean requested softly. Then Rommie nodded and left.

And then there was Meg, looking so fragile at the moment that it seemed a mere touch would break her. The others had left as they had made their good-byes, and now it was just the two of them.

"Meg," he breathed softly, taking her face in his hands and kissing her. "If you ever change your mind, let me know, because I won't change mine."

Meaghan kissed him back fiercely, then choking back a sob, turned and left.