TITLE: I’ll Be Home For Christmas
SUMMARY: Christmas comes but once a year, but that still seems to be a little too often for Tyr Anasazi
RATING: PG13
DISCLAIMER: We are not bowing to Sorbo and co… but we will acknowledge that the characters are not ours, which, frankly, we feel is a shame!
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The noise from the observation deck was so loud that even from two corridors away, Tyr could feel himself getting a headache from it. Quickly dismissing any thoughts of a quiet night, he strode towards the direction of the sound, with hopes that Beka or Harper might be persuaded to turn it down a bit.
When the doors slid open, Tyr’s jaw dropped in amazement. There appeared to be some kind of informal party going on, and while some of the visitors he recognised, there were others he did not. And that concerned him. In one corner of the room, Dylan appeared to be holding court with some of the guests, but Tyr was more disgusted with the green colour of Captain Hunt’s shirt than his manner of entertaining. Over by the window, Beka and Harper were apparently dancing. The Nietzschean’s eyebrows rose when he saw what Beka was or rather was not, wearing. He resolved to speak with her later about it.
But by far the most shocking sight of all was Rommie. She stood off to one side, completely alone. The short red dress she wore was trimmed with white, and the ridiculous hat she wore on top of her head appeared to go with it. Her head moved in time with the music, which caused the hat to flop wildly from one side to the other. Suddenly, her head jerked up. "Hello Tyr," she smiled brightly. "Welcome back." Then her head resumed its jerky movements.
Tyr sighed silently and made his way over to the long food table standing against the wall. As he did so, his gaze fell upon Beka again. This time their eyes met and she excused herself from Harper. The engineer didn’t seem to notice.
"Who decided that an artificial intelligence could get drunk?" Tyr asked as soon as she was within hearing range.
"Harper, I guess," she smiled. "But she doesn’t seem to be complaining just yet." Beka leaned forward to grab some nuts from a bowl. "So Tyr," she munched, "where have you been this time?"
He shook his head. She wasn’t going to get him this time. "I can’t tell you," he replied in a deadly serious tone.
Beka grinned. "Or else you’d have to kill me, right?"
He shrugged. "Therefore it is better that you do not know. So," he leaned in closer to her until he was able to discreetly nuzzle the blond woman’s neck, "when can we get away?"
Beka looked awkward and hastily stepped backwards. "Not tonight," she said, nodding over to Dylan’s group.
Tyr looked over to where she was indicating and growled softly. "When did he arrive?"
"About two hours ago." She did look apologetic. "I’m sorry, but I didn’t expect you back today. Or this week. This time last year you were gone for an entire month."
"This time last year I did not have a reason to return so soon." So much for a quiet night. "Should I pay my respects to your… family, or would you rather I disappear so you are spared the embarrassment of being seen with me?"
Beka grimaced. "Too late for that, I’m afraid. He’s already seen you."
"Tyr Anasazi," a voice called out as a hand clamped down firmly on the Nietzschean’s shoulder. "It’s always so nice to see you looking out for my niece. How are you?"
Tyr took Sid Profit’s hand as though it could be poisonous. "I am well, Sir," he replied, with as much restraint as he could muster. "And you?" Tyr didn’t dare catch Beka’s eye; he knew she’d call him on his attitude later.
"Oh, very well. I must say I didn’t expect to see you here."
Tyr nodded. "My return was earlier than anticipated."
Profit took a step back. "I need to apologise, Anasazi. I came bearing gifts for everyone except you. Though the thought did cross my mind. I said to myself, ‘Goodness, I wonder what the stylish Nietzschean mercenary is wearing this year?’"
"It looked like Beka earlier." Unbeknownst to the small group at the food table, Harper had come to join them. And he was not exactly sober. "Oh, crap," he continued, as he realised what he’d just said and whom he had said it in front of.
A silence quickly descended. Beka looked ready to kill her engineer while Dylan appeared ready to kill Tyr, who simply stood there as though silently challenging him to do so. Profit merely seemed amused by the comment.
"If you are referring to my proximity to Captain Valentine," Tyr finally began, "I had to be that close to her in order to make myself heard. This so-called music is appalling. Why your guests haven’t yet been driven away by the noise I do not know." He turned quickly and strode out of the room.
"Well, if it isn’t the Tyr that stole Christmas," Harper muttered.
Trance looked at him in bewilderment. "How can Tyr steal Christmas?"
Beka used the moment in an attempt to slip away. Although Harper’s comment wasn’t intended to be serious, Dylan had definitely taken it that way. Over the course of the previous few months, she and Tyr had grown closer, much closer, but it wasn’t something that they wanted shouted around.
"Beka!"
The sound of Captain Hunt’s voice made her stop and cringe. She turned to face him. "Yes, Dylan?"
He stopped in front of her. "Look, I…" he began awkwardly. "Is there something going on between you and Tyr that I should know about?"
"What? Me and Tyr?" she scoffed. "Yeah, right, Dylan." There was no way she was going to tell him a thing, especially since she how disapproving he could be of anything pertaining to Tyr. She spun back on her heel and marched away from Andromeda’s captain. Happy Christmas, Beks, she chided herself. Did you really think this one would be better than any of the others?
Not unsurprisingly, when Beka reached the Maru she found it already occupied. Tyr was standing in the main living area, staring in confusion at the one seasonal decoration she had. "What is that?" he asked, puzzled.
"What? Oh, that’s my Charlie Brown tree."
"You call that a tree? It’s pathetic." Tyr was nothing if blunt.
She smiled awkwardly. "That’s why it’s called a Charlie Brown tree." Stepping forward, she adjusted one of the drooping branches. "I’ve had it for years."
"Am I supposed to know who or what a Charlie Brown is?" he asked.
"Ask Harper. I think he was some cartoon character from Earth." Beka wrinkled her nose. "He had a tree like this, Harper said." She tweaked another artificial limb. "I don’t know."
"And the reason why you have a solitary bauble on it?"
The blond pilot sunk to the floor, placing her chin on her knees. "Last of the Christmas ornaments," she said sadly. "What my dad didn’t manage to destroy, my dear brother stole in order to make some quick credits." She ran a hand gently over the ball’s gold surface. "I don’t know how this one escaped."
Tyr crouched down beside her. "Does it bring back a lot of memories?"
"What do you think?" Beka replied. She smiled at him. "I guess you don’t celebrate Christmas, huh?"
He shook his head. "Not really. I’ve never properly understood this need to celebrate madly at this time of the year."
Beka sighed. "It’s a time for family to come together and have fun. Not that the Valentines ever did though. Uncle Sid tried his best, I think." She took a look at the Nietzschean’s bemused expression. "What?"
"You’re…mellowing… towards that man."
"Is that a bad thing?" she shot back.
"In your case, no," Tyr responded slowly. "In his own way, he means well. That doesn’t mean I have to like him, however."
"I know." She patted his arm gently, trying not to show her sudden remembrance of the missing boneblades. "Family can be good," she said quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed her brief pause.
"It can," he agreed. "So, Christmas is a human custom, then?" It seemed he also saw a need to keep the conversation flowing.
"I guess," Beka shrugged. "It’s got a lot of historical reference, the coming of winter, the birth of a god…"
"The birth of a god?"
"This guy, Christ, was apparently born on Christmas. I’ve never been terribly big on religion." She smiled ruefully. "I may thank the divine on occasion, but I think some of Rev Bem rubbed off on me."
"It is better to trust oneself, than some unseen, unknown force."
"Yeah, but sometimes it’s reassuring, you know. To think that something other than yourself is in charge. I mean, as Rev once said, ‘When the Divine opens a Way, who are we to question?’"
"Perhaps."
They were silent for a while, seemingly lost in thought. Gradually, Beka came to realise that perhaps this year Christmas would not be a write-off after all. Having Tyr by your side certainly forced you to re-evaluate your thoughts and feelings. "Ouch!" she suddenly exclaimed, jumping to her feet.
Tyr was instantly by her side. "Are you all right?"
"Ooh," she murmured as she briskly rubbed her leg. "Yes, just got a dead leg."
"Here, let me." He knelt in front of her and took the limb in his hands, slowly massaging it back to life. He smiled, the expression hidden by his long hair, as he felt her relax under his ministrations. They were both only too well aware of what his touch could do to her. "How’s that?" he asked, forcing himself to pull back before his self-control completely evaporated.
"Better." Beka removed her hands from his shoulders where she had placed them for balance. She took a few tentative steps around and smiled. "Thanks."
"You’re welcome." He stood up and approached her. "I’d like to stay here," he murmured, taking her into his embrace.
Beka shivered at the feel of his breath on her skin. His lips had begun to do delightful things to her neck. She could feel his arousal pressed up against her. It would be so easy just to fall back onto the bunk and let him take her…
"But we can’t." He abruptly moved away, leaving her stunned and feeling suddenly cold from the loss of his touch. Seeing her evident distress he laughed and leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on her lips. "Beka, you said earlier that Christmas was a time for family. Well, your family… our family… is out there. Perhaps we should join them."
She grimaced. "Oh, please, and get Dylan’s lecture that I came here to escape from?"
Tyr opened his mouth as if to say something, but then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he looked around the room. "There is a way to shut him up, you know."
"I am not going to kill him."
"At the moment neither am I. It is in my best interests to keep him alive." He walked over to the small unit beside the bunk. "Is it in here?" She nodded. "I noticed you weren’t wearing it earlier, and decided that it looked wrong."
"I’m sorry. I don’t like to wear it when I’m not with you, alone."
Tyr smiled. "I know, but I want you to start wearing it on a permanent basis. After all, we’re not going to be able to keep this quiet in a few months time." His gaze focused on her abdomen and she blushed fiercely under his scrutiny. "I was willing to keep our relationship between us for a time, as it suited both of us, but I believe the time has come." He retrieved the slim band and with loving care placed it around her upper arm. "Beka Valentine, daughter of Ignatius, my wife," he murmured, placing gentle kisses on her arm.
"There’s going to be a lot of questions."
He crooked a crafty grin at her. "Which Dylan will not dare ask in front of so many guests."
The observation deck was just as noisy as when they had left it. Rommie was still in her own little universe, the hat on her head now more off than off.
Trance, Harper and Dylan all arrived in front of Tyr and Beka at the same time. Trance was holding a sprig of greenery aloft in her hands and she darted forward to place a light kiss on the Nietzschean’s cheek.
"Come back to say, ‘bah humbug’ have you, Tyr?" Dylan asked.
Beka and Tyr exchanged glances and waited for the bombshell to drop, which it did with Captain Hunt’s next words.
"And what in the name of hell is that helix doing on your arm, Beka Valentine?"
FINIS