I just read the past two chapters to try to remember what was happening and I apologise for the awful grammar and spelling mistakes. I am very, very, very sorry because it annoys me too. I shall try harder in this chapter. And on we go.

"Sit back and relax Miss Valentine, nothing can hurt you here."

Beka struggled in vain, her arms moving furiously but to no avail. The metal clamps around her thin wrists scratched at her as she writhed around, trying to break free. Dean, the man she had shared her bed with, the man she had shared her thoughts with had turned out to want her DNA. The matriarch of the Nietzschean race, one could certainly use that to his advantage.

"You lying, little sh..."

Beka did not have time to finish the sentence before sweet relief came over her body and she was unconscious. Blood dripped slowly from her wrists, dripping onto the metal floor. It pooled around the boots of the man who was being paid to retrieve the DNA from the highly sought after prize. Not only DNA but maybe one of her ovaries too, Dean had mused. With that he could start his own race. Grand ideas raced through his head as he had watched the woman writhe about, shouting how she was going to kill him or if not how Dylan would kill him even harder.

"So I hear you have a new boyfriend Beka, is this one any better than Peter?" Dylan asked teasingly, glancing over at his first officer. Trying desperately to ignore the jealousy he felt at the fact she never chose him.

"Dylan, are you ever going to let that go?" Dylan laughed but Beka frowned.

"Really. Please let it go." With that, Beka did what she did best and walked away from Dylan.

There was a stabbing pain in her gut as she pulled up her thin top she let in a gasp, there was gauze covering her lower abdomen. The pain intensified as she peeled it away from her reddened skin, revealing a bloodied cut about finger long. She let out a sob as she realised why they had taken her to that room, why Doc told her to relax. Her hands were shaking as she tried to place the plaster back over the wound. She looked around to see the same four damp, grey walls. She prayed to god, well no actually she did not, instead she wondered who out there would even be listening. Was there a god? A divine? Some higher being who could help her out? So instead, she sat there and hoped that Dylan wouldn't let this place become her home. Hope, as Dylan would say is everything.

The door swooshed open as Beka drifted back off into oblivion.

"Hello Beks. Time to go home." Dean smiled at her pulling her up, not caring at all, as she cried out at the pain ricocheting through her side.

"Rebecca?"Dean had asked, looking down Beka, with a strange glint his eye. She glanced up at him wearily. What they had been doing was not her idea of a good time.

"Do you want children?"

Not with you, she had thought to herself. Surprised that it hadn't been a flat out no that had sounded out in her head.

"I don't know. Maybe. If the time was right and I could guarantee a good future for the kid. Why?"

Dean shook his head and didn't even grace her with an answer.

And my space key is sticking. But that is not part of the story.