Title: And I Owe It All to Varicella
Author: MouseBebe
Rating: PG
Summary: Two crewmembers fall ill and two crewmembers fall for each other.
Spoilers: None.
Pairing: Beka/Rommie
Setting: Late first season.
Disclaimer: Tribune owns all rights to Andromeda.
Archive: Do not archive without express permission.
Feedback: Constructive criticism welcome.
Author's Note: Response to Phoebe's challenge #44 at the Wandering Minds message board. This was initially written several years ago and, after posting it, I liked it less and less until I finally pulled it down. It's been reworked now, with a much better ending.
Beka rubbed at the red spot on her arm. It had been itching badly all morning, and even trying not to scratch she'd still done so enough that it was almost raw. She was going to stop by Med deck for something, anything, to stop the itching as soon as she was done on Command. Also for the equally itchy spot that had suddenly sprung up on her neck in the last five minutes. She groaned quietly as she switched to that one, knowing that she shouldn't but really, really being unable to avoid the urge.
"Something wrong?" Rommie asked. She'd been working silently across the room, but must have heard the noise.
"I itch. It's driving me crazy. Is there some bug onboard or something? It feels like a bite."
"I'm not getting any abnormal readings." Beka heard footsteps and then Rommie was on the platform behind her. "Where?"
"Here," she lifted her arm so the other woman could see, "and here." She pulled the hair lying against her neck aside. A second later there were blessedly cool fingers touching the spot; it even felt red. She shivered at the touch.
"I don't know. It does look irritated, so I'll let Trance know to meet you on Med deck when you're finished here. Until then try not to scratch. I doubt that helps."
"Thanks, I doubt I'd have thought of that myself." Beka didn't even try keeping the sarcasm out of her words. It still didn't match the levels of Rommie's chirpy response.
"You're welcome!"
Dylan was in his office, trying to get some work done, but it seemed like every time he managed to focus a new spot started itching. His arm, his ankle, his knee (which was particularly frustrating trying to scratch through the fabric)… "Rommie?"
"Yes?" The hologram flickered into being by his desk.
"Do we have some kind of bug that escaped your filtering systens onboard?"
She considered briefly. "Beka asked the same question earlier. After analyzing internal sensors, no, there are no detected insects or parasites onboard. However, under quarantine rules, I need you to report to Med deck."
"You've gotta be kidding." He dropped the flexi he was holding and leaned back in his chair. "Quarantine?"
"With the likelihood of this being a transmittable bacteria or virus, yes. I'm alerting Trance." When he didn't move, she prompted, "Or I could confine you to quarters."
He sighed and raised his hands in defeat. "I'm going, I'm going…"
When he reached Med deck, Beka and Trance were already waiting. "You," Beka told him, grumpily, "made them get me out of bed." She did look extremely casually dressed and somewhat rumpled.
"I'm sorry. Not my choice, I— Ow!" He rubbed his arm where Trance had just jabbed him. "You couldn't have warned me?"
"Sorry?" She didn't sound very remorseful. "But I need a sample and that way your arm was relaxed." She stepped around him and plugged the sample into a diagnostic machine. There were already three images up on the screen, all of blood cells; at least one was presumably Beka's. "I'm just checking your blood against each other's as well as earlier ones from both of you."
"For what?"
"Any sign of a virus. And there is one, right there." She pointed to one of the cells, which was patently not like the others, a round blob covered in spikes amidst a sea of hollowed discs. "I just… don't quite know what it is."
"You don't know what it is?" Beka asked disbelievingly.
"Well, no, there are a lot of different viruses Humans can get, and a lot of them look similar, and Rommie doesn't have all of them in her records because they were considered eradicated in the Commonwealth but came back during the Fall, and…" She trailed off, looking nervous, and her tail swished anxiously. "No. I don't."
Beka paused and then said, "I'm not going to get to sleep in my own bed tonight, am I?"
"No."
"Wait, we can't even go back to our own quarters?" Dylan hated being confined to Med deck. His quarters would have been bad enough.
"I'm sorry, but I really want to monitor you both, and it's easier to do that here. Rommie can get you clothes and things…"
Beka sighed. "Right. Camping out it is." She headed over to one of the supply closets and started pulling out blankets.
"But just because there might be a virus?"
"There is a virus. But I'll figure it out. Try not to scratch!" And Trance skipped out of the room before he could argue more.
He watched the door close behind her. "Did she really just… leave us here?"
"Yup. It's Trance, what do you expect?" Beka came back over and dumped a couple of blankets on one bed before carrying the rest over to one she was apparently claiming, judging by her immediately sitting down on it and shucking her unlaced boots. "Look, I don't know what you're doing, but I'm going to go back to bed. Rommie, dim the lights, please?" And she rolled over into a bundle of blankets, leaving him sputtering indignantly.
The next morning Beka woke and was momentarily disoriented by her surroundings. She had been dreaming, something about a savior of Castalia, Rommie, and Harper's boogie board, and waking up to the rising lights in Med deck was confusing. She had to blink a couple of times before everything registered. It was helped along by a string of insistent itches along her side. She winced and sat up.
"Oh, good, you're awake." Rommie was at the console. "I brought clothes for both of you." She grabbed a pile from the counter and brought it over. "There are undergarments, too."
"Thanks." Beka sighed faintly at the thought of Rommie going through her underwear. That was not something she really needed to contemplate, given some of the stuff shoved to the back.
"Are you feeling worse?"
Right. The sigh. Rommie would assume that it was a physical issue. "A little, yeah. More spots. And I just don't feel good."
"Hm." Beka jumped when Rommie put a hand on her wrist. "Your temperature is a little elevated. Trance left a cream to relieve the itch and I can give you something for the fever. Anything else?"
"No, that should be enough." She looked over at Dylan, still sleeping. "How's he doing?"
"A little higher fever than yours, and a headache. You're both not showing any more dangerous symptoms."
"Good." She slid off the bed, realizing only then that Rommie still held her wrist. Rommie apparently did the same, dropping it immediately and stepping back. There was an awkward beat before Beka said, "Uh, I'm going to… get a shower. I feel kind of gross."
"Of course. I'll have one of my bots bring you breakfast while you're doing that. Trance will be back soon, as well."
"Thanks." Beka grabbed the clothes and headed to the bathroom, feeling her cheeks heat. That had been interesting.
She showered quickly and picked through the clothes she'd brought in, looking for ones that wouldn't rub against the spots, and the whole time trying to avoid scratching absentmindedly. She'd barely gotten covered when there was a quiet knock at the door. "Yeah?"
It slid open. Rommie. "I brought the cream. Do you need help with it?"
"I— Yeah. There's a couple of spots on my back." She turned and pulled the tank top up enough to expose them. "And there's one up by my shoulder blade…"
"I see it." That was all she said before the quiet, barely-there sound of the jar lid being unscrewed. Beka held her breath, telling herself it was just to make it easier for Rommie, but at least partly from nerves. She wondered, briefly, if she wasn't the only one with that problem when it seemed like Rommie hesitated, but then there were fingers rubbing over her back, the cream immediately soothing the itch. The touch was light, but it gave her goosebumps along her bare arms. She was so focused on holding herself still she almost didn't notice just how long Rommie was taking on the last spot. She didn't say anything when she did, but was disappointed when Rommie herself must have noticed and pulled away. The android's voice was brisker than usual when she said, "There. Every three hours and as new ones appear." She handed Beka the jar as Beka turned to face her.
Beka missed a beat, noticing the flush to Rommie's own cheeks. Belatedly she answered, "Right. And I can get the rest myself." When the door closed again, leaving her alone, she blew out a slow breath. That she hadn't anticipated.
Rommie took a moment to compose herself as soon as she left the bathroom. She'd slipped there and would have to be more careful. Once Trance came back in from checking the plants that needed extra attention she would be out of Med deck; she couldn't risk more mistakes, even if Beka's biosigns indicated that she might not disagree with Rommie's impulses. Rommie disagreed with Rommie's impulses, and that was enough reason to leave. She even had the convenient excuse of retrieving anything Beka and Dylan needed from their quarters. She still sighed at the thought before turning to greet Dylan, waking up again in time for the breakfast trays her bots were bringing in.
The day was supremely dull. Bots brought in meals and Rommie brought in flexis of work and entertainment for them both, but being confined to bed was unpleasant even without the dully thumping headache and rounds of chills and itches that Dylan was suffering whenever the last round of medication wore off. Harper and Tyr had been warned off from Med deck until Trance figured it out, given that they weren't suffering from whatever the virus was that he and Beka had, and Rev might have provided interesting conversation but he wasn't even onboard the ship. Beka looked equally bored and was vaguely snappish when he tried to talk to her— no surprise if she was feeling anything like he was— and Rommie was busy, away from Med deck, while Trance seemed mostly interested in good-natured torture. At least, judging by her cheerful announcement that she needed to scrape one of the blisters while she was checking on him.
"What? Why?"
"I need another sample," she'd told him innocently, and then started scraping so that Beka actually started laughing at his misfortune. At least, until Trance told her she was next. "But I should know what you have by morning!"
"Thanks, Trance," he'd managed, lackluster, and the headache that started back up at that point was possibly not caused by the virus that time.
At one point, picking at dinner with a distinct lack of appetite, he glanced over at Beka. She actually seemed to be in a better mood by now, eating more heartily than he was. "You're feeling better?"
"Yeah. Just itchy." She made a face. "But I've spent worse days confined and the Maru isn't much bigger if you can't get into the cargo pod. And if we're out of here tomorrow…"
"Yeah." He set down his fork and rubbed his hand over his face.
"You know, you really don't look good. Do you want me to call Trance or Rommie?"
"No, I'm just… I think I need to get back to sleep. How is it you're feeling better and I'm not?" He lay back against the medical bed, though not closing his eyes yet.
"Beats me. Maybe I got exposed to this as a kid and you didn't." Beka watched him for a second. "Are you sure you don't want me to call them?"
"No, don't, they'll be by soon."
"Okay… Can I have your dessert if you're not going to eat it?"
He laughed— a little— and passed it to her.
Rommie came in to take over the overnight shift, as she considered it, in Med deck. Trance was doing some more work in the lab and Dylan's symptoms worried her, as he didn't seem to be improving. He had fallen asleep and was stable, fortunately, but it made her nervous to have her captain ill, especially with something unknown. So she was there and watching over him, in her android capacity so she could do something immediately if anything changed. What she could do she wasn't sure, but something.
Beka, meanwhile, was apparently improving. Her own fever had gone down and she was wrapped in blankets on her own bed, reading by the dim lights in the room. She'd greeted Rommie pleasantly enough when she'd come in, but since then had been focused on her own flexi, so Rommie had given her the space to read in peace. She was mostly monitoring Dylan's condition, but was paying enough to Beka's to notice when her breathing became slower and deeper as she slipped into sleep.
On a whim, Rommie stepped closer. She studied Beka for a moment, seeing if she truly was asleep, and gently worked the flexi out of her fingers and shut it off. After a moment, she pulled the blanket up to cover her shoulders, as well, how she normally slept in her quarters aboard; for her sick crew, rest was vital for them to heal, and Beka waking up in the night because she was cold would not be restful. Another moment and she checked to see that her motions had made no difference in Beka's sleep pattern; the only obvious activity was her eyes moving under their lids, apparently dreaming. Wanting to, not feeling able to resist the urge, Rommie leaned over and gentle as a whisper brushed her lips across Beka's forehead.
Strands of hair slipped free of the rest as she did and just touched Beka's nose, which twitched. Rommie tensed and pulled back, waiting as Beka's eyelids flickered before she apparently slid even deeper into sleep. She really shouldn't have done that. Not only was Beka asleep, but Rommie doubted she'd be interested if she were awake, either. In her experience Beka was very decidedly interested in men, the kind that were all brawn and no brains. Her usual type was not at all Rommie.
The next morning Beka groaned and stretched before she even got up. The medical beds weren't the worst way ever to bunk down, but they were not built for long-term comfort. She bet that if this had been in the days of the old Commonwealth they'd have already been transferred to some specialty medical facility or something. Then again, from what Trance had said, and the way Dylan was suffering, it was entirely possible that this was something that been wiped out three hundred years ago. Just their luck for it to come back; at least they weren't in the middle of contested territory or a small war, or they wouldn't even be able to be confined to Med deck but making everyone else sick by exposure. She rolled out of bed and started to collect fresh clothes for the day, and the ever-present jar of cream for the itch.
"Did you sleep well?" Rommie, walking in with another bot and each bearing a tray of breakfast again.
"Yeah. Your hair tickled, though." She escaped into the bathroom, hearing Rommie make a choking noise behind her.
Contrary to what Rommie had seemed to think, Beka wasn't entirely asleep when the flexi had been slid out of her hand. She really hadn't been when Rommie had kissed her. And if she hadn't been reasonably sure it was Rommie already, she'd have been after the latter looked extremely guilty walking in. She might as well have been wearing a sign. Knowing for sure didn't help much, though. She may have found herself appreciating Tyr multiple times, but Rommie? Once or twice, but nowhere near that often, and no matter how attractive either of them were, office romances were a bad idea. She knew that.
So now she had to figure out what to do about it. She really didn't want to rebuff Rommie, especially not risk offending her or hurting her feelings. There probably was worse than having the warship you lived on ticked at you, but Beka really didn't want to find out. She could ignore it, but she didn't know if that would yield anything or not. The last option— and the most tempting despite being the worst idea— would be to reciprocate.
She really, really wanted to reciprocate.
When Beka came back out after her shower, Rommie was ready and waiting to take the jar of cream for the spots she couldn't reach. Beka mutely handed it to her and turned, tugging the shirt she was wearing out of the way. Silently she rubbed the cream in, noting that there were no new ones today and that, presumably, Beka was on the mend. She wished the same could be said for Dylan, still getting new spots and spiking irregular fevers.
Once Rommie finished the treament, Beka turned back to her. One quick glance over at Dylan, lying with his back to them, and and she caught Rommie's elbow. "Beka?" She hadn't even formed a question before she was being kissed, gently and respectfully, but kissed nonetheless. She dropped the cream and felt the jar bounce off her boot, and when Beka let her go she was without words for a moment.
"Better?" Beka asked, with a smug smirk. She didn't really wait for a response, going to go grab her breakfast instead.
Rommie blinked, at a loss still, and decided to let it go for the moment. Instead, she went over to Dylan to wake him and get him to eat something. She'd barely gotten him to sit up, groaning and rubbing his hands over his face, when Trance came in with a flexi in one hand and vials of something in the other.
"I've figured it out!" she said excitedly, bouncing a little. "And I got an antiviral made!"
"Not a moment too soon," Dylan grumbled, holding his head.
"Well, I did my best…" Trance seemed hurt by his attitude, looking between them all.
"We know, Trance, he's just not feeling well," Rommie told her soothingly, glaring at Dylan.
"Well, this'll help. Dylan, hold still for just a minute." Trance prepped the syringe quickly and pushed it into his arm, wincing sympathetically as he groaned again.
"I hate shots."
"But this'll probably be the last one."
"Probably?"
Beka sighed and offered her arm when it was her turn. "How long until you think we'll be able to get out of Med deck?"
"Tonight or tomorrow morning. I have to see how contagious you are and how you're responding to the antiviral."
"Right. So— ouch!— what do we have, anyway?" She rubbed the spot Trance had injected her at.
"Varicella. Sometimes it's called chickenpox."
Beka and Dylan blinked. Rommie checked her database. "But that's extinct in most of the known worlds."
"Most of." Trance picked up the flexi again. "I actually got the information from the Maru's computers. It was almost wiped out during the Commonwealth but it picked up again during the Long Night. It wasn't even vaccinated for when Dylan was younger."
"So… the rest of us may have been exposed already?" Beka asked. "Did you check Harper and Tyr for it?"
"Not yet. But for now you should both start feeling better!" Trance waved and darted back out of Med deck.
"Chickenpox." Beka stared at the door Trance had just left through. "What does a virus have to do with chickens?"
Dylan shrugged, then winced. "I don't know, but I think I still need something for my head."
"I'll get that." Rommie went to get a painkiller for him. And with that conversation, any chance of following up on the kiss was gone for the day.
That day was even slower than the one before, with the potential for escape dangling in front of Beka. It was also hard to not think about Rommie, given that she was coming in and out with Trance all day. More than once she caught Rommie sneaking a glance at her when she was looking away, though that was fair, given that Beka was doing the same. It may have been mistake to give in to the impulse to kiss her, but it had been a surprisingly hard impulse to resist. All she wanted right now was a chance to repeat the mistake, but there was no way that was happening with Dylan only a couple of meters away, especially with him punctuating half his movements with groans. He really was suffering, and she had sympathy, but she was also a little impatient.
That night Trance came back and did yet more tests, although at least these didn't involve anything sharp. She also had an answer as to why Dylan felt worse: heavy-grav physiology. Apparently that backfired sometimes when it came to infectious diseases, with the metabolism being faster acting as a way to spread the viral structures quicker. "But," she told him, trying to be reassuring, "that means you'll heal faster, too, with your metabolism doing the same in reverse. By tomorrow morning you'll both feel fine!"
"Thank you, Trance," and this time he did sound like he meant it. It probably helped that Rommie had given him the largest doses she could of a painkiller, a fever reducer, and some anti-itch medication, plus another dose of the antiviral, at Trance's instruction. Beka had gotten a second dose of the latter, as well, and was starting to feel completely normal, with most of the spots fading and not having itched for a while.
"For now I'd rather you stay in Med deck. I don't think you're contagious anymore, but I'd rather be careful, even with Tyr and Harper being immune already." Apparently Tyr had gotten an inoculation as a child and Harper had had the virus when he was little enough to barely remember.
"One more night? We can't just promise to stay in our quarters?" Beka could feel her hopes fall. She really wanted to be back on the Maru already; she never slept anywhere else as well. And she wouldn't have minded any privacy, as well, for any number of reasons.
"Just tonight, and then tomorrow you should be well enough."
It was a very long night.
The next morning came at last. Rommie was waiting outside Med deck when Beka was told she could go, and reached out to take some of the flexis she was juggling with the clean clothes she hadn't worn. "Are you going to the Maru?" she asked, as casually as she could. Beka had to have assumed that she had ulterior motives, with the quick flash of a smile.
"Yeah, I am. I'd appreciate the help."
"Of course."
They walked in silence for most of the trip. Rommie wasn't quite sure how to broach the topic, even if she wanted to in a place where her mainframe could overhear, and she suspected Beka had similar reservations. That didn't stop her from glancing over speculatively, nor Beka doing the same, based on what she could see from her cameras in the corridors. At last they were in the Maru, then the bunkroom, Beka dropping her clothes on the bed and taking the flexis before doing the same to them. "I'll have to sort them out and get them in the right spot," she explained, "and it's a lot easier if I can set them down. Thanks for carrying those."
"You're welcome." There was an awkward pause, and then she said, "I'm—" right as Beka began her own statement,and they both stopped again.
A beat, during which Rommie wondered if she'd ever had a conversation as hard to start as this, then Beka told her, "Go ahead."
"I just wanted to say that I'm glad you're feeling better." She couldn't quite meet Beka's eyes after that, thinking of all the other things she could have added.
"Thanks. I am, too. But, you know, I never thought I'd be glad to be sick in the first place." When she looked up at Beka in concern at the comment, instead of being able to ask for clarification she found herself being thoroughly and expertly kissed, far less gently and respectfully than the morning before. She ended up holding onto Beka's arms, not entirely sure if she was doing so for her own support or to keep Beka there. When it ended they stayed close, Beka's breathing a little uneven and Rommie smug that she could do that to her. Even knowing how odd organics could be, she still couldn't quite believe what she thought she heard right before Beka kissed her again. "Thank God for chickenpox."
The End