A/N: And let me say that if anyone besides Beka called her 'Bekie', she'd whack 'em. And not in a smacking-Harper-upside-the-head sort of way. In a making-the-Mafia-proud sort of way.
Remember, catch a ref, get a gold star!!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Oh, Beka, I almost forgot! You got a message from Rev today! A courier ship stopped by while you were asleep." Trance was presently occupied in cleaning Med and chattering about the latest plant she'd received, a night-blooming Tuvia vine, while Beka read the flexi.
/Beka~
Please wish Trance a joyful not-birthday on my behalf. I would be very glad to join you, but an epidemic of an acute and highly contagious febrile virus has swept over several of the Dragan slave worlds in this system. Fortunately, the Nietzscheans have granted the Wayists limited access to the afflicted, though, I fear, for the wrong reasons. I do not know how long we shall need to tend these humans, but I will rejoin you as soon as I may.
As to Tyr Anasazi, you know how loathe I am to judge any individual by the actions of his race. However, this particular individual is not merely a Nietzschean but one of the highest-paid and most feared mercenaries in his field. I have been able to retrieve accurate accounts of few of his assassinations—these with some difficulty—and I feel that I must warn you, Beka, that he is one of the deadliest men you have ever come across.
You will have no cause to worry about conflicting loyalties to any Pride—no small blessing, I believe—for his, the Kodiak, was brutally destroyed by the Drago-Kazov during his youth. Perhaps he and Mr. Harper will find some common ground in their sentiments concerning that Pride.
An even more troublesome note is the shadowy reports of increased T'dalimar activity. You've probably not heard the name before; the T'dalimar are an almost universally unknown sect of extremely dangerous and paranoid mercenaries employed solely by Chichins. They never surface—that I know of—without carrying out a fatal mission, and very few who have seen them survive to spread tales of their existence. Currently, differently sources place them in different systems—one even claimed a sighting near Albuquerque Drift, which may tell you how reliable these witnesses are—but I do not like the stories I find and what it may bode for a crew working under a Chichin employer. It deeply concerns me that dangers may lurk both within and without your ship, but I wil not counsel you to undue fear and suspicion. I know you will remain as alert as ever, and I pray for you and your safety daily.
When I return, I shall be very curious to know how Harper reacted to Mr. Anasazi's presence.
~Rev/
Little in the message surprised Beka, though she did shiver at Rev's mention of T'dalimar near Albuquerque, and the ominous tone behind the words unsettled her. Still, Rev had begun and ended the letter with a note to make her smile.
A voice broke into her reverie, startling Beka. Trance even jumped a little when Tyr's baritone echoed through Med. "Trance Gemini, you are needed in the cockpit immediately." The Nietzschean certainly wasn't one to mince words. Trance shot Beka a confused—and, could it be suspicious?—glance, then shrugged and left Beka with a friendly admonition not to smuggle herself out again. In response, she uttered an assuring but noncommittal noise.
Harper must've hidden himself in the next corridor over, as he stole into Med less than a full minute after Trance had gone. "Ready, boss?" She noted with no little amusement that Harper had changed out of his grease-stained tee and now sported a new-looking green shirt with black Vedran lettering.
She laughed. "You know those things always say 'stupid mudfoot buys anything'." She hopped onto the ground. "How'd you get Tyr in on this?"
"Oh you know, just told him it was an /ancient/ tradition of ours… which didn't convince him. Then I said how much time we'd spent getting ready, and you with your bum arm—well, you know, at least half an hour--" he looked a little sheepish, "though he may be, uh, laboring under the delusion that it was…somewhat more… and he looked like he /might/ be persuaded and /then/ I told him how much it meant to you, and he was practically /begging/ to help."
Beka raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, he said something sarcastic about human sentimentality, told me to go hide before 'the purple girl' found me, and then laughed." He waved a hand dismissively. "Come on, Beka, for Tyr I think is practically /is/ begging. And at what point did he decide to aid us in our scheme? Oh, yeah, as soon as he heard how much it meant to—ow!!"
Beka swatted him upside the head with her functioning arm, quite understandably and in the most affectionate sort of manner.
"Have I told you--"
"Yes, Harper."
"Oh come on, you don't know what I--"
"Yes I do, Harper."
"Then--"
"We both know, Harper. Now hurry up before the image of you running scared from Trance stops entertaining Tyr, and he lets something slip." Following their earlier route, the pair ghosted through the Maru and soon arrived in Hydroponics. After she'd left, Harper apparently had festooned every single plant with lavender- and rose-colored ribbons. Two small presents adorned a round little table that normally held a watering can.
From one corner, Harper withdrew a lump of… something with a pleasant, faintly sweet aroma. With a flourish, he slipped off the rag covering the lump and presented a misshapen loaf of bread. Beka frowned. "Uh, Harper, what is that?"
Harper scrounged up some candles—those Beka did recognize, though they were smaller than any she'd ever seen—from the mysterious depths of his cargo pants, and explained. "It's an Earth thing. See, whenever one of us had a birthday, my parents would use their flour and sugar rations to make a loaf of this sweet bread. Then, they stuck a tiny piece of candle in the middle and lit it. You know, no one else ever made 'em, and after my parents were… after they…" Beka nodded. "Well anyway, I forgot all about it until a couple weeks ago when I saw this at Camazotz Drift." That had turned out to be the /creepiest/ places Beka had visited in her entire life. It wasn't seedy but possessed what Harper had termed 'the whole Big Brother atmosphere'.
He tilted the plate, so Beka could view the loaf from the top. Cake, she decided it must be. That made sense. "See? It's shaped kinda like a flower, and that reminded me of Trance, cos, you know, she really likes…" he gestured to the bright and blooming room around them.
While she agreed aloud with Harper's assertion, Beka privately thought it resembled an amoeba swimming in the primordial ooze. "Trance'll love it. But, uh, Harper, maybe I should light the candles. And just out of curiosity, how does one prevent the candles from setting the cake ablaze?" Plants filled the small bay, and a fire here would spread like Triangulum measles. "Trance would be /devastated/ if her babies met such a horrific end, especially the day of her not-birthday."
Harper looked at her as if she were some leopard skin loincloth-clad Neanderthal who'd just stumbled into Cavanaugh's. "Ya gotta blow 'em out. Well, first you have to make a wish."
Where did Harper /get/ these things? Lighting cake on fire, only to blow it out a few seconds later was supposed to make wishes come true?? "Right, Harper." She wrote it off to kooky mudfoot quirks. "If you neglect to inform Trance of that last part, we'll have this to douse the wildfire." With something of her own flourish, Beka revealed two bottles of sparkling grape juice. She grasped the bottle necks tightly in one hand, praying that they wouldn't decide to fall and shatter on the floor. Grinning to herself, she wondered if Harper would forget they were non-alcoholic and proceed to get smashed out of his gourd again.
While Harper was setting out the bread, juice, and tableware, Tyr's voice boomed over the comm. "I've had a request to tell you, Mr. Harper, that you may run, but you shall find your efforts to run from Trance Gemini futile." At the amusement evident in his voice, Beka suspected he saw the situation as a squabble between two fifteen year-olds who would soon reconcile in any case.
Harper's head jerked up, and the plates clattered to the small table. "Oh crap! Uh, lights out!" A two-toned beep announced the Maru computer's acknowledgement of the command, and the lights died.
Beka pressed her lips together to stop a giggle from escaping. /She/ knew her ship inside-out and backwards, but Harper… "Aah! What the--?! When did--? Ouch!"
Into the darkness filled by Harper's pained groans, Beka called for some slight illumination. "All right, Harper, /first/ set your cake on fire, /then/ kill the lights."
Muttering something Beka imagined she was better off not knowing, Harper fumbled with a lighter, and soon, six bright points—one for each petal of the flower cake and another in the center—appeared out of the shadows. He softly ordered the lights out once more with an additional note to return to normal levels when the door opened, and they waited, absolutely silent, for the quick, quiet pitter-patter of purple feet.
The Maru was small enough that Beka knew they wouldn't be waiting long. That is, she /knewi little time had passed, but in near-complete darkness and silence, minutes seemed to stretch unbearably. Finally, footsteps sounded just outside the door. The door slid open, the lights flickered on, and…
"Sur—hey, you're not Trance! I mean, unless Trance had sex- and species-change operation, a good sunless tanner, and--"
Tyr gave Harper his flattest look. "She hasn't, and I'm not. I came to warn you that she is fast on my heels, and--" He scanned the room. "Might I inquire after the loaf of flaming bread?" he asked mildly.
Beka grinned. "Great minds, Tyr; I wondered the exact same thing. But shh! If she's coming, you gotta shut up, so you don't ruin everything." She pulled him to her side and ordered the lights out, with the same command as Harper's.
Sure enough, a light tread could be heard only a minute later. The door slid open, the lights flickered on, and…
"Surprise!" Beka didn't think she'd ever seen Trance's eyes so wide. "Happy not-birthday, Trance!"
The elfin girl had entered scolding Harper, but her words died at Harper's joyous shout. "Aww, guys…" She smiled beautifically as she studied the decorations. "It's so pretty!" Her eyes landed on the flower cake. "But why-"
Beka chuckled, and even Tyr cracked a tiny smile. "I swear, no proper education at all." Harper moaned, shaking his head. He was smiling, though, and failed to sound disapproving. "You make a wish and blow out the candles, my beautemous not-birthday girl. But you can't tell anyone your wish, or it won't come true."
"Oh!" Trance chirped cheerfully, as if that explained anything. Her sparkling brown eyes darted to the sight of Tyr and Beka side-by-side, and her lips curved. She closed her eyes, whispered something, opened them again, and blew out all six candles in a single breath.
Harper and Beka burst into 'happy birthday', and Trance blushed a deep plum. The engineer then suggested something about birthday swats, and Beka gave him an /not/-birthday swat upside the head, for the second time that day. He muttered something about wishing she'd injured /that/ arm, but Beka informed him that she was a proficient smacker of short engineers with hugely inflated egos with /both/ hands. "Besides, it's time to give Trance her presents!"
Trance exclaimed that they shouldn't have and clapped her hands over the shiny wrapping paper.
"Oh wait! Before we do anything else, Rev also wishes you a happy not-birthday. Now, here's something from me." And Beka handed her a dark violet- and lavender-striped box.
Trance unwrapped it carefully, delicately pulling off layers of thin paper. Harper tried to grab it from her hands, complaining that she was 'doing it wrong'. Beka scolded him, and Trance held him off with her tail. "Oh Beka, it's wonderful, thank you!" She bounced over and hugged her captain, who recovered from her shock enough to pat the girl on the back uncertainly with her working arm and shifted the other, so it wasn't too sqooshed. Trance gently lifted from the box incense and a clear incense-holder shaped as a single, crimson rose.
"Okay, my turn!" Harper declared, rushing to bring his gift from the small table. He hovered on the tips of his toes, unable to stand still while Trance opened the shimmering pink cube. She revealed a shallow stone bowl filled with water and six floating white and teal blossoms. "Harper! Cerulean water lilies from Min-ta-sheean! I think this one's Joanne, and Amie, Marc, Nancy, Kim, and… Eric!" As she embraced Harper, Beka whispered to Tyr that she was naming the flowers, in response to his raised eyebrow.
After Trance disentangled herself from Harper, Tyr stood and slowly approached the exuberant pixie. He began slowly to speak. "In the spirit of things, I…" He ran a hand through his dreadlocks.
"Gee, Tyr, don't strain yourself," Harper called out.
The Nietzschean glared and continued. "When we dock, Trance, if you find anything that pleases you, consider it a… a gift."
Beka stared. Harper stared. Trance hugged. Beka thought Tyr's eyes would pop out of his head. He looked shell-shocked.
"I really hate to interrupt this, um, beautiful moment," she told Harper in a low voice, "but I think it's time to break out the bubbly and formerly-flaming cake."
"Huh? Oh yeah." Harper raised his voice. "All right, kids, break it up! Time to get wasted!"
Trance turned and gave Beka an inquiring look. "I thought-" Beka grinned and winked, and Trance smiled back in sudden comprehension.
The blonde captain struggled a moment, trying to uncork the bottle one-handed, before Tyr deftly lifted it from her grasp and just as smoothly popped the cork, pouring in into glass flutes as it fizzed and foamed. The four clinked glasses to Trance's toast—to the best crewmates and a really great not-birthday. She quaffed half the glass and hiccuped. "I remember the first time you guys threw me a not-birthday party." She looked over at Tyr. "Well, you weren't there, Rev was. Anyway, it was so much fun…"
After Trance finished reminiscing, Beka grazed around herself at the Maru and began a tale of one of her own birthdays. "I remember celebrating my twelfth birthday here. Rafe was still here, and Dad was still… Dad. He gave me my first rock disc…" Her story was somewhat more subdued than Trance's, but full of rare, sweet memories.
Then Harper started. "This is some great champagne-y, Beka! Woo! Right to my head." He staggered around to Beka and clapped her on the shoulder. "Good stuff, Bek, good stuff. So anyway, girls and boy, time for the Master Harper to regale you all with birthdays of his own tale!" He gestured grandly. "You guys don't wanna hear 'bout my birthdays on Earth. No way. Nothin' good there. Just Magog and U-, um, Nietzscheans. Sorry, Tyr."
"I understand the Pride that enslaved your world was the Drago-Kazov, yes?"
Harper nodded.
Tyr growled. "Then by all means, continue."
"Yeah, uh, right. So anyhoo, it was the year our good captain here brought me outta that hellhole and the year I first learned of Albu-" He grimaced. "of that drift with th'really long name I'm not even gonna try to say…"
Beka sipped at her own glass and suppressed a chuckle. Good old Harper, drunk on unfermented grape juice.
Finally, Tyr's turn came around. All eyes fell on him, and he cleared his throat. "I cannot promise to deliver a tale near as heartwarming as any of you."
Beka smiled and punched his arm lightly. "You didn't need to tell us that Nietzscheans don't do sappy."
He nodded. "Of course." He leaned against the wall, and a far-away look came into his eyes. "I was but fifteen years old. The Drago-Kazov would invade my home and murder my family a year later, but at the time, we knew naught of their plans for the Kodiak. My father, Barbarossa, held a tournament. He liked to precisely monitor the physical and mental progress of his children, one of whom would likely serve the Pride as its next Alpha…"
An hour or so later, the party broke up. Trance settled her gifts around Hydoponics, Beka tottered back to Med, Harper stumbled off to bed, and Tyr disappeared to wherever Tyr disappeared to at night. Probably his room, to work out.
As Beka walked, she thought back over the not-birthday goings-on. She laughed quietly, remembering Tyr's expression when Trance had wrapped her arms around him. "Moments I need a holo-recorder," she said aloud. Later, he had told his story, voice soft and rich with emotion. He looked all three of them directly as he spoke, but Beka could've sworn his eyes rested longest on her. And that brown leather vest he was wearing… he must've changed after leaving the cockpit. This new article fitted him gorgeously, a few shades darker than his complexion and cut to accent his built physique.
"Okay, Bekie, let's do the shot, change the dressing, and take a nice, /long/, and very, very cold shower." Trance had left the injection out, and Beka prepared it hurriedly, hoping to slip out before Trance remembered to check up on her. She winced only a little as the needle punctured the soft skin on the inside of her elbow. With a practiced ease, she unwound the bandage and replaced it with a spotless length of tape and gauze.
Forgetting her resolution to zip out of Med, Beka strolled dreamily around—and finally out of—the room. She'd always had a weakness for physical perfection, and next to Tyr, Bobby was balding with a glandular problem. "The universe just loves these little antics, I'm sure," she muttered. "I hope it's /amply/ amused by the sufferings of a poor Valentine."
Then, a voice from behind her. "From what do you suffer, my lady?"
/Funny. Very funny. Didn't even get my shower before this./ "Oh, uh, hi Tyr. Um, nothing, nothing really." /And we both know I'm lying like a Chichin selling used merchandise./ She was almost sure Tyr could hear her heartbeat racing and see her cheeks flushing. Conflicting urges to run away, to laugh, and to cry confirmed her suspicions that she was losing her marbles.
"Beka, I must speak with you." Still standing behind her, he tentatively laid on his side, his fingers light on her stomach.
She closed her eyes and swallowed. His hand felt like fire through her thin top. /And we're breathing. Think happy thoughts… wait, no happy thoughts! Sad, sad thoughts. Rrrr. Mad thoughts. Bobby, at the end./ Inexplicable anger seized her, and pain. /You really don't need this, Bekie./ And though it was among the hardest things she'd ever done, Beka wrapped her fingers around Tyr's and lifted his hand away from her. Thinking of Bobby back in Med had brought to the surface emotions she'd buried since… well, since the last time she'd had this internal conversation. Part of her wanted to pounce on Tyr, to give herself over to the warmth and affection of another person (a very attractive person, she might add, and a very attractive person who wanted a real relationship with her) and re-bury those memories, but she steeled herself against the heat she felt rising throughout her. "Not here, Tyr. Not now. I can't talk about… us. You know—you have to know—how I'm feeling right now." She turned around but couldn't meet his gaze, and, much to her horror, Beka felt warm tears pooling in her eyes.
Tyr worked his hand so he was holding the trembling fingers that had halted his touch. "I know, Beka, but I don't /understand/." He bent his head down in an attempt to read her expression. "And now I see tears, and I do not understand those either."
His voice was gentle and sounded bewildered, which wasn't helping Beka's weakening resolve to stay calm. "I don't /need/ this, Tyr. I don't need a guy who can… do you what you do to me… with a single look and then tangle me up inside. I don't need… I don't need /any/ guy right now who wants anything more than…" She suspected her words made even less sense to Tyr than they did to her.
Before she walked away from him, she thought she at least owed him the decency of looking him in the eye as she left. "I don't need another guy who's going to leave me for a drug, or another woman, or some cause. And I don't /want/ to be afraid of that." Her voiced wavered, but it never quite broke. She loosened her hand from Tyr's and turned to leave.
But he didn't let her go immediately. "Then I think I understand. But Beka, please, judge this… possibility I'm offering as something between you and me. Not you and your past." And he released her.
Remember, catch a ref, get a gold star!!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Oh, Beka, I almost forgot! You got a message from Rev today! A courier ship stopped by while you were asleep." Trance was presently occupied in cleaning Med and chattering about the latest plant she'd received, a night-blooming Tuvia vine, while Beka read the flexi.
/Beka~
Please wish Trance a joyful not-birthday on my behalf. I would be very glad to join you, but an epidemic of an acute and highly contagious febrile virus has swept over several of the Dragan slave worlds in this system. Fortunately, the Nietzscheans have granted the Wayists limited access to the afflicted, though, I fear, for the wrong reasons. I do not know how long we shall need to tend these humans, but I will rejoin you as soon as I may.
As to Tyr Anasazi, you know how loathe I am to judge any individual by the actions of his race. However, this particular individual is not merely a Nietzschean but one of the highest-paid and most feared mercenaries in his field. I have been able to retrieve accurate accounts of few of his assassinations—these with some difficulty—and I feel that I must warn you, Beka, that he is one of the deadliest men you have ever come across.
You will have no cause to worry about conflicting loyalties to any Pride—no small blessing, I believe—for his, the Kodiak, was brutally destroyed by the Drago-Kazov during his youth. Perhaps he and Mr. Harper will find some common ground in their sentiments concerning that Pride.
An even more troublesome note is the shadowy reports of increased T'dalimar activity. You've probably not heard the name before; the T'dalimar are an almost universally unknown sect of extremely dangerous and paranoid mercenaries employed solely by Chichins. They never surface—that I know of—without carrying out a fatal mission, and very few who have seen them survive to spread tales of their existence. Currently, differently sources place them in different systems—one even claimed a sighting near Albuquerque Drift, which may tell you how reliable these witnesses are—but I do not like the stories I find and what it may bode for a crew working under a Chichin employer. It deeply concerns me that dangers may lurk both within and without your ship, but I wil not counsel you to undue fear and suspicion. I know you will remain as alert as ever, and I pray for you and your safety daily.
When I return, I shall be very curious to know how Harper reacted to Mr. Anasazi's presence.
~Rev/
Little in the message surprised Beka, though she did shiver at Rev's mention of T'dalimar near Albuquerque, and the ominous tone behind the words unsettled her. Still, Rev had begun and ended the letter with a note to make her smile.
A voice broke into her reverie, startling Beka. Trance even jumped a little when Tyr's baritone echoed through Med. "Trance Gemini, you are needed in the cockpit immediately." The Nietzschean certainly wasn't one to mince words. Trance shot Beka a confused—and, could it be suspicious?—glance, then shrugged and left Beka with a friendly admonition not to smuggle herself out again. In response, she uttered an assuring but noncommittal noise.
Harper must've hidden himself in the next corridor over, as he stole into Med less than a full minute after Trance had gone. "Ready, boss?" She noted with no little amusement that Harper had changed out of his grease-stained tee and now sported a new-looking green shirt with black Vedran lettering.
She laughed. "You know those things always say 'stupid mudfoot buys anything'." She hopped onto the ground. "How'd you get Tyr in on this?"
"Oh you know, just told him it was an /ancient/ tradition of ours… which didn't convince him. Then I said how much time we'd spent getting ready, and you with your bum arm—well, you know, at least half an hour--" he looked a little sheepish, "though he may be, uh, laboring under the delusion that it was…somewhat more… and he looked like he /might/ be persuaded and /then/ I told him how much it meant to you, and he was practically /begging/ to help."
Beka raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, he said something sarcastic about human sentimentality, told me to go hide before 'the purple girl' found me, and then laughed." He waved a hand dismissively. "Come on, Beka, for Tyr I think is practically /is/ begging. And at what point did he decide to aid us in our scheme? Oh, yeah, as soon as he heard how much it meant to—ow!!"
Beka swatted him upside the head with her functioning arm, quite understandably and in the most affectionate sort of manner.
"Have I told you--"
"Yes, Harper."
"Oh come on, you don't know what I--"
"Yes I do, Harper."
"Then--"
"We both know, Harper. Now hurry up before the image of you running scared from Trance stops entertaining Tyr, and he lets something slip." Following their earlier route, the pair ghosted through the Maru and soon arrived in Hydroponics. After she'd left, Harper apparently had festooned every single plant with lavender- and rose-colored ribbons. Two small presents adorned a round little table that normally held a watering can.
From one corner, Harper withdrew a lump of… something with a pleasant, faintly sweet aroma. With a flourish, he slipped off the rag covering the lump and presented a misshapen loaf of bread. Beka frowned. "Uh, Harper, what is that?"
Harper scrounged up some candles—those Beka did recognize, though they were smaller than any she'd ever seen—from the mysterious depths of his cargo pants, and explained. "It's an Earth thing. See, whenever one of us had a birthday, my parents would use their flour and sugar rations to make a loaf of this sweet bread. Then, they stuck a tiny piece of candle in the middle and lit it. You know, no one else ever made 'em, and after my parents were… after they…" Beka nodded. "Well anyway, I forgot all about it until a couple weeks ago when I saw this at Camazotz Drift." That had turned out to be the /creepiest/ places Beka had visited in her entire life. It wasn't seedy but possessed what Harper had termed 'the whole Big Brother atmosphere'.
He tilted the plate, so Beka could view the loaf from the top. Cake, she decided it must be. That made sense. "See? It's shaped kinda like a flower, and that reminded me of Trance, cos, you know, she really likes…" he gestured to the bright and blooming room around them.
While she agreed aloud with Harper's assertion, Beka privately thought it resembled an amoeba swimming in the primordial ooze. "Trance'll love it. But, uh, Harper, maybe I should light the candles. And just out of curiosity, how does one prevent the candles from setting the cake ablaze?" Plants filled the small bay, and a fire here would spread like Triangulum measles. "Trance would be /devastated/ if her babies met such a horrific end, especially the day of her not-birthday."
Harper looked at her as if she were some leopard skin loincloth-clad Neanderthal who'd just stumbled into Cavanaugh's. "Ya gotta blow 'em out. Well, first you have to make a wish."
Where did Harper /get/ these things? Lighting cake on fire, only to blow it out a few seconds later was supposed to make wishes come true?? "Right, Harper." She wrote it off to kooky mudfoot quirks. "If you neglect to inform Trance of that last part, we'll have this to douse the wildfire." With something of her own flourish, Beka revealed two bottles of sparkling grape juice. She grasped the bottle necks tightly in one hand, praying that they wouldn't decide to fall and shatter on the floor. Grinning to herself, she wondered if Harper would forget they were non-alcoholic and proceed to get smashed out of his gourd again.
While Harper was setting out the bread, juice, and tableware, Tyr's voice boomed over the comm. "I've had a request to tell you, Mr. Harper, that you may run, but you shall find your efforts to run from Trance Gemini futile." At the amusement evident in his voice, Beka suspected he saw the situation as a squabble between two fifteen year-olds who would soon reconcile in any case.
Harper's head jerked up, and the plates clattered to the small table. "Oh crap! Uh, lights out!" A two-toned beep announced the Maru computer's acknowledgement of the command, and the lights died.
Beka pressed her lips together to stop a giggle from escaping. /She/ knew her ship inside-out and backwards, but Harper… "Aah! What the--?! When did--? Ouch!"
Into the darkness filled by Harper's pained groans, Beka called for some slight illumination. "All right, Harper, /first/ set your cake on fire, /then/ kill the lights."
Muttering something Beka imagined she was better off not knowing, Harper fumbled with a lighter, and soon, six bright points—one for each petal of the flower cake and another in the center—appeared out of the shadows. He softly ordered the lights out once more with an additional note to return to normal levels when the door opened, and they waited, absolutely silent, for the quick, quiet pitter-patter of purple feet.
The Maru was small enough that Beka knew they wouldn't be waiting long. That is, she /knewi little time had passed, but in near-complete darkness and silence, minutes seemed to stretch unbearably. Finally, footsteps sounded just outside the door. The door slid open, the lights flickered on, and…
"Sur—hey, you're not Trance! I mean, unless Trance had sex- and species-change operation, a good sunless tanner, and--"
Tyr gave Harper his flattest look. "She hasn't, and I'm not. I came to warn you that she is fast on my heels, and--" He scanned the room. "Might I inquire after the loaf of flaming bread?" he asked mildly.
Beka grinned. "Great minds, Tyr; I wondered the exact same thing. But shh! If she's coming, you gotta shut up, so you don't ruin everything." She pulled him to her side and ordered the lights out, with the same command as Harper's.
Sure enough, a light tread could be heard only a minute later. The door slid open, the lights flickered on, and…
"Surprise!" Beka didn't think she'd ever seen Trance's eyes so wide. "Happy not-birthday, Trance!"
The elfin girl had entered scolding Harper, but her words died at Harper's joyous shout. "Aww, guys…" She smiled beautifically as she studied the decorations. "It's so pretty!" Her eyes landed on the flower cake. "But why-"
Beka chuckled, and even Tyr cracked a tiny smile. "I swear, no proper education at all." Harper moaned, shaking his head. He was smiling, though, and failed to sound disapproving. "You make a wish and blow out the candles, my beautemous not-birthday girl. But you can't tell anyone your wish, or it won't come true."
"Oh!" Trance chirped cheerfully, as if that explained anything. Her sparkling brown eyes darted to the sight of Tyr and Beka side-by-side, and her lips curved. She closed her eyes, whispered something, opened them again, and blew out all six candles in a single breath.
Harper and Beka burst into 'happy birthday', and Trance blushed a deep plum. The engineer then suggested something about birthday swats, and Beka gave him an /not/-birthday swat upside the head, for the second time that day. He muttered something about wishing she'd injured /that/ arm, but Beka informed him that she was a proficient smacker of short engineers with hugely inflated egos with /both/ hands. "Besides, it's time to give Trance her presents!"
Trance exclaimed that they shouldn't have and clapped her hands over the shiny wrapping paper.
"Oh wait! Before we do anything else, Rev also wishes you a happy not-birthday. Now, here's something from me." And Beka handed her a dark violet- and lavender-striped box.
Trance unwrapped it carefully, delicately pulling off layers of thin paper. Harper tried to grab it from her hands, complaining that she was 'doing it wrong'. Beka scolded him, and Trance held him off with her tail. "Oh Beka, it's wonderful, thank you!" She bounced over and hugged her captain, who recovered from her shock enough to pat the girl on the back uncertainly with her working arm and shifted the other, so it wasn't too sqooshed. Trance gently lifted from the box incense and a clear incense-holder shaped as a single, crimson rose.
"Okay, my turn!" Harper declared, rushing to bring his gift from the small table. He hovered on the tips of his toes, unable to stand still while Trance opened the shimmering pink cube. She revealed a shallow stone bowl filled with water and six floating white and teal blossoms. "Harper! Cerulean water lilies from Min-ta-sheean! I think this one's Joanne, and Amie, Marc, Nancy, Kim, and… Eric!" As she embraced Harper, Beka whispered to Tyr that she was naming the flowers, in response to his raised eyebrow.
After Trance disentangled herself from Harper, Tyr stood and slowly approached the exuberant pixie. He began slowly to speak. "In the spirit of things, I…" He ran a hand through his dreadlocks.
"Gee, Tyr, don't strain yourself," Harper called out.
The Nietzschean glared and continued. "When we dock, Trance, if you find anything that pleases you, consider it a… a gift."
Beka stared. Harper stared. Trance hugged. Beka thought Tyr's eyes would pop out of his head. He looked shell-shocked.
"I really hate to interrupt this, um, beautiful moment," she told Harper in a low voice, "but I think it's time to break out the bubbly and formerly-flaming cake."
"Huh? Oh yeah." Harper raised his voice. "All right, kids, break it up! Time to get wasted!"
Trance turned and gave Beka an inquiring look. "I thought-" Beka grinned and winked, and Trance smiled back in sudden comprehension.
The blonde captain struggled a moment, trying to uncork the bottle one-handed, before Tyr deftly lifted it from her grasp and just as smoothly popped the cork, pouring in into glass flutes as it fizzed and foamed. The four clinked glasses to Trance's toast—to the best crewmates and a really great not-birthday. She quaffed half the glass and hiccuped. "I remember the first time you guys threw me a not-birthday party." She looked over at Tyr. "Well, you weren't there, Rev was. Anyway, it was so much fun…"
After Trance finished reminiscing, Beka grazed around herself at the Maru and began a tale of one of her own birthdays. "I remember celebrating my twelfth birthday here. Rafe was still here, and Dad was still… Dad. He gave me my first rock disc…" Her story was somewhat more subdued than Trance's, but full of rare, sweet memories.
Then Harper started. "This is some great champagne-y, Beka! Woo! Right to my head." He staggered around to Beka and clapped her on the shoulder. "Good stuff, Bek, good stuff. So anyway, girls and boy, time for the Master Harper to regale you all with birthdays of his own tale!" He gestured grandly. "You guys don't wanna hear 'bout my birthdays on Earth. No way. Nothin' good there. Just Magog and U-, um, Nietzscheans. Sorry, Tyr."
"I understand the Pride that enslaved your world was the Drago-Kazov, yes?"
Harper nodded.
Tyr growled. "Then by all means, continue."
"Yeah, uh, right. So anyhoo, it was the year our good captain here brought me outta that hellhole and the year I first learned of Albu-" He grimaced. "of that drift with th'really long name I'm not even gonna try to say…"
Beka sipped at her own glass and suppressed a chuckle. Good old Harper, drunk on unfermented grape juice.
Finally, Tyr's turn came around. All eyes fell on him, and he cleared his throat. "I cannot promise to deliver a tale near as heartwarming as any of you."
Beka smiled and punched his arm lightly. "You didn't need to tell us that Nietzscheans don't do sappy."
He nodded. "Of course." He leaned against the wall, and a far-away look came into his eyes. "I was but fifteen years old. The Drago-Kazov would invade my home and murder my family a year later, but at the time, we knew naught of their plans for the Kodiak. My father, Barbarossa, held a tournament. He liked to precisely monitor the physical and mental progress of his children, one of whom would likely serve the Pride as its next Alpha…"
An hour or so later, the party broke up. Trance settled her gifts around Hydoponics, Beka tottered back to Med, Harper stumbled off to bed, and Tyr disappeared to wherever Tyr disappeared to at night. Probably his room, to work out.
As Beka walked, she thought back over the not-birthday goings-on. She laughed quietly, remembering Tyr's expression when Trance had wrapped her arms around him. "Moments I need a holo-recorder," she said aloud. Later, he had told his story, voice soft and rich with emotion. He looked all three of them directly as he spoke, but Beka could've sworn his eyes rested longest on her. And that brown leather vest he was wearing… he must've changed after leaving the cockpit. This new article fitted him gorgeously, a few shades darker than his complexion and cut to accent his built physique.
"Okay, Bekie, let's do the shot, change the dressing, and take a nice, /long/, and very, very cold shower." Trance had left the injection out, and Beka prepared it hurriedly, hoping to slip out before Trance remembered to check up on her. She winced only a little as the needle punctured the soft skin on the inside of her elbow. With a practiced ease, she unwound the bandage and replaced it with a spotless length of tape and gauze.
Forgetting her resolution to zip out of Med, Beka strolled dreamily around—and finally out of—the room. She'd always had a weakness for physical perfection, and next to Tyr, Bobby was balding with a glandular problem. "The universe just loves these little antics, I'm sure," she muttered. "I hope it's /amply/ amused by the sufferings of a poor Valentine."
Then, a voice from behind her. "From what do you suffer, my lady?"
/Funny. Very funny. Didn't even get my shower before this./ "Oh, uh, hi Tyr. Um, nothing, nothing really." /And we both know I'm lying like a Chichin selling used merchandise./ She was almost sure Tyr could hear her heartbeat racing and see her cheeks flushing. Conflicting urges to run away, to laugh, and to cry confirmed her suspicions that she was losing her marbles.
"Beka, I must speak with you." Still standing behind her, he tentatively laid on his side, his fingers light on her stomach.
She closed her eyes and swallowed. His hand felt like fire through her thin top. /And we're breathing. Think happy thoughts… wait, no happy thoughts! Sad, sad thoughts. Rrrr. Mad thoughts. Bobby, at the end./ Inexplicable anger seized her, and pain. /You really don't need this, Bekie./ And though it was among the hardest things she'd ever done, Beka wrapped her fingers around Tyr's and lifted his hand away from her. Thinking of Bobby back in Med had brought to the surface emotions she'd buried since… well, since the last time she'd had this internal conversation. Part of her wanted to pounce on Tyr, to give herself over to the warmth and affection of another person (a very attractive person, she might add, and a very attractive person who wanted a real relationship with her) and re-bury those memories, but she steeled herself against the heat she felt rising throughout her. "Not here, Tyr. Not now. I can't talk about… us. You know—you have to know—how I'm feeling right now." She turned around but couldn't meet his gaze, and, much to her horror, Beka felt warm tears pooling in her eyes.
Tyr worked his hand so he was holding the trembling fingers that had halted his touch. "I know, Beka, but I don't /understand/." He bent his head down in an attempt to read her expression. "And now I see tears, and I do not understand those either."
His voice was gentle and sounded bewildered, which wasn't helping Beka's weakening resolve to stay calm. "I don't /need/ this, Tyr. I don't need a guy who can… do you what you do to me… with a single look and then tangle me up inside. I don't need… I don't need /any/ guy right now who wants anything more than…" She suspected her words made even less sense to Tyr than they did to her.
Before she walked away from him, she thought she at least owed him the decency of looking him in the eye as she left. "I don't need another guy who's going to leave me for a drug, or another woman, or some cause. And I don't /want/ to be afraid of that." Her voiced wavered, but it never quite broke. She loosened her hand from Tyr's and turned to leave.
But he didn't let her go immediately. "Then I think I understand. But Beka, please, judge this… possibility I'm offering as something between you and me. Not you and your past." And he released her.