See Prologue for Ratings and Disclaimer.

So I'm back home, I'm sick, and I miss Belize. But getting caught back up on wonderful fanfic is helping to cheer me up, so I thought I'd return the favor with a new chapter. I hope you all enjoy it.

Any and all mistakes are mine alone.

PART ELEVEN - Contemplating Frustration

Telemachus Rhade was forced to spend the whole of the next week in Medical. If necessary he would have much rather have been confined to his own bed, but Trance was adamant. The crew had seen her focussed on her work before, but there was something different this time, almost a sense of personal obligation, like she felt responsible for his current predicament.

It's ludicrous, he thought. There was absolutely no reason for her to act as she had been. At least with Beka he could understand why she had placed blame on herself, even though he disagreed completely.

After awhile, he dropped the issue, believing himself to be paranoid regarding the golden enigma's feelings of duty. He'd never been able to understand her before, why start trying now?

Rhade had been quite happy to learn, several days ago, that his legs were good enough to get by on (with help) for short periods of time, and he'd managed to escape the sterile deck for a good ten minutes every few hours. Beka had been there when he'd received the good news and had gone with him on his first bid of temporary freedom.

Of everyone, she had visited him by far the most. He had a feeling that her ideas of guilt, whether founded or not, were the subconscious reason why, as if she felt the need to somehow make it up to him. But she hadn't brought it up again, and it didn't seem to be truly bothering her too much as far as he could tell, and so he didn't mention it either.

Besides, he found he rather enjoyed her visits, more so than those of the others. Granted, they were, for the most part, no longer acting strange; he had the feeling Beka herself was also the cause for that, and he wasn't sure how to feel - happy they were no longer treating him like glass, or annoyed they'd needed to be told not to. Unlike the quick exchanges with the others, Beka's visits often involved actual conversation. They kept up her little "Nietzschean lessons," as she'd dubbed them, but they'd also been describing life on Tarazed before the split, and he had been happy to hear her comments on how different it was from other Prides she knew of.

He'd also managed to get a bit of information out of her about her own life before coming to Andromeda, which was well worth it. It wasn't much, nor was it anything beyond general stuff, but it was certainly a lot more than he knew before. Rhade truly felt they were beginning to develop a friendship, now that they had decided the hostilities they'd had during his first few months on board were just too time-consuming and exhausting to keep up.

He was certainly enjoying the friendship aspect a lot more.

Rhade was pulled from his thoughts as the First Officer herself walked in.

"Ready to go?" she asked brightly. She'd volunteered to take him back home.

"Completely." The relief was obvious in his voice. He pushed himself off the medical bed carefully, allowing a few extra seconds to pull his body up to its full height.

Beka, to her credit, let him stand on his own…not that she wasn't prepared to run forward if it looked like his face was interested in meeting the floor. "Then let's go." They walked out, Telemachus insisting on taking the lead.

After a few minutes of pleasantries, they continued to walk in silence. They conversed well enough with a concrete subject, but obviously they needed to work on the small talk.

Rhade pause a couple of times to catch his breath, each time politely refusing her help, determined to do it on his own. Beka was impressed - she didn't like taking help from anyone else either, but she had a feeling she would be a lot more open to the concept if she was as weak - relatively speaking - as he seemed to be. Not that she was going to tell him that.

They reached his quarters and she stepped inside. While she had glanced at the insides of his abode before, it had pretty much been done from the opposite side of the threshold while she briefly spoke to him, usually relaying an order or confirming plans for a mission of some sort.

Truly looking around for the first time, she was surprised at how relaxed it seemed. For some reason she had always imagined his quarters as being pristine and efficient - a place to store and to sleep. And while she admitted it was all very orderly, it was comfortable as well. There was some clutter, but not much; a shelf to the side held several real books, as well as a number of flexis. What looked like an old blanket was draped on the back of a chair. A few pictures were scattered about the room, as were the odd few plants. She wondered briefly how he had managed to acquire even the few personal possessions she saw, given his arrival on board the ship.

Rhade sighed and sank into a chair, exhaustion from the exertion evident in his features.

"Hey," she called out, slowly moving further into the room, "You still alive there?"

"I'm fine," he answered rather quickly. "Guess I just need more rest."

Beka thought she heard a hint of self-depreciating sarcasm in his voice. She wasn't too surprised, though. She'd been learning more and more what it was like to be Nietzschean, the mind-set…. He had never come right out and said it, but Beka knew that his culture and that of non-Tarazed Nietzscheans, while they did sound quite different, still held common roots. In his current condition, constantly tired, physically weak - it was a major blow to any Nietzschean. Especially, she thought, the way in which he'd been reduced to this condition.

She sympathized with him. There were times she'd found herself in the same situation.

"You should rest, then," she told him. Beka may have sympathized with him, but she wasn't about to help make his condition worse - he did need rest.

"Shower first," he muttered. Beka had a feeling he was talking more to himself than to her.

Still, she asked, "Need any help?"

Rhade looked up at her, eyebrow raised. He had an amused look on his face. Realizing how she'd phrased her question, Beka rolled her eyes and sighed loudly.

"I think I'll be fine," he assured.

Figuring she was already caught in her own words, she thought she'd have some fun. In a sweet, almost disappointed voice, she said, "Okay, but be sure to call if you need anything." She turned and started for the door.

Rhade just shook his head. "I will."

Beka could hear the joking lit to his voice. Good. If all it took as a little verbal banter to get their resident brooder out of his current state of self-pity, even for a few seconds, then maybe there was hope for him yet.

She got to the door and turned back to him, silently noticing he'd sunk further into the chair. "So," she called to get his attention, continuing only when she saw his heavy gaze slide her way, "Nietzschean lessons tomorrow? I'm in Command today until well past your bedtime."

"Sure," he answered, either missing or choosing to ignore her light-hearted dig.

Beka nodded and was about to leave when he called out her name. She sighed. So close this time…. Turning back around, she waited for it.

"You don't have to humour me. If you have more important things to do, by all means. It will not bother me."

She sighed inwardly. Every single time. Shrugging, she responded lightly, "Nope, no other things. Unless you're getting bored of having me around, oh teacher of mine."

He shook his head. "I didn't say that."

She smiled, trying to cover up the slight irritation this conversation always brought on. "Good. You might find it strange, Rhade, but this human does, on occasion, find all this Nietzschean stuff interesting…well, most of it…and probably would have before had anyone bothered to actually explain it."

"Very well," he responded. He looked and sounded as if he were stifling a yawn.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she told him, seeing him nod in agreement before turning back to the door, wondering if he could even make it to the bed, let alone have the energy for a shower.

Once she had left his room, her smile faded with the passing of the corridors. She wasn't sure why he felt the need to assure her she didn't need to "waste" her time visiting him, but she suspected it may have something to do with circumstance, both past and present.

If she was honest about it, her Nietzschean info sessions, at first, had been attended a little reluctantly. She had all but dared Rhade to show her how "different" Nietzscheans could be, both in regards to each other and to how others perceived them, and at that point her pride wouldn't let her back down from it when he'd accepted.

Beka, despite herself, was just starting to look forward to those sessions, just starting to get that understanding Rhade claimed no humans outside of his homeworld appeared to have, when he'd been abducted. As the weeks dragged on without any trace, she found herself slowly reworking through the readings he'd given her, slowly expanding her view of Nietzschean culture. There were aspects that appealed to her, concepts she'd wished she'd known about in the past.

And then they'd found their crewmate. That's when he seemed to suspect her motives for seeking him out. And true, the first time she spoke to him about it in Medical she'd present it as a peace offering - and that's what it had been. It seemed as though he thought that was still what it was, and not plain old Valentine curiosity.

Stubborn Nietzschean, Beka thought, suddenly finding herself just outside Command.

She shook the pointless thoughts from her mind - they weren't all that useful, anyway - and prepared for her shift. She'd only have to go through this mental frustration again the next time he brought the subject up.

To Be Continued...