Home is Where my Barrel Is.
Oct. 1st, 2011 03:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lucifersprizeSo this is just a little pressie for a certain person. I should have been writing Unsuitable Slave but noooo, can I EVER resist when she dares me. *faceplant*
So here it is ..my first Andromeda fic. ... a very short story, especially er *cough* tailored to that certain person.
Description: PG. Total crack. The Andromeda's crew have a plan to erase the time bridge before it happened. Dylan is his usual self. Vague mention of a tardis like thing. (sorry Whovians)
Warnings: Product of a warped mind. Revolting grammar.
Disclaimer: This is fiction, pure fantasy folks and if it is going to happen, it hasn't yet but point me in the direction of the nearest space port anyhow.
She doesn’t want to be here. Absolutely, definitely does not want to be on this Vedran-forsaken trash pit of a backwater drift.
Twitta, Beka decides, is a spectacularly sleazy, seedy and scum bearing place. Particularly when it comes to men. Yep the men of Twitta suck and have grabby (now broken) hands. This particular mission sucks and for that she has to blame Harper’s out-of-control genius and yeah, Dylan too because his ideas are always such shiny pieces of precise planning.
“There’s one on Twitta.” Dylan had said with inimitable ease “We’ll pick up that one, come back and erase the Time Bridge with some time travel of our own.” Because it’s just that easy, thinks Beka. Nope, even Dylan himself admits it’s never easy, so why should things change this time.
Dylan strides over to them, relaxed and ridiculously over-dressed in his grey (ex) Commonwealth jacket. He looks at Beka and raises one eyebrow, his mouth quirks upwards and ocean blue eyes twinkle with sarcastic mirth. He turns his gaze to look at the others in annoyingly superior amusement.
Beka continues to point a gun at the offending item, Rhade is half heartedly holding a force lance in the general direction and Harper is wiping soot from his face and moping pathetically over the smoking remains of his multi-gizmo-zapper thingy. Rommie holds back at a distance with arms crossed and pursed mouth. Trance, well Trance has the good sense to be elsewhere entirely, somewhere with restaurants, flowers, ocean and an octopus with a unique breeding pattern. Beka wonders how come Trance gets to be somewhere with restaurants, she suspects it has to do with precognition.
“Did we bring it?” Dylan asks, and is treated to a group glare.
“Why can’t Harper just make one?” bitches Beka.
“I estimate that it would take four weeks and two days of Harper’s time and require components that the Andromeda does not currently have access to.” states Rommie, rolling her eyes upward.
“It broke my gizmo.” whines Harper, “and there was this hot chick in the drinks lounge who was all over me for a demonstration.”
“As a Nietszchean I admire its ingenuity and tenacity. It is a born survivor.” comments Rhade.
“Yeah well, you didn’t get attacked by evil, skull cracking squirrels, Rhade.” Beka glares at the Nietszchean.
“No I just had to contend with the chainsaw of death, while you were ogling that pilot in the fancy fighter ship.” retorts Rhade.
“Hey! You didn’t spend days making a gizmo which got blown up.” whines Harper.
“Has anyone tried to talk to it?” sighs Dylan.
“It says it doesn’t want to come out, it has yard work, has to trim some branches from a tree and anyway it likes it in there. How is that even possible? It’s a barrel for God’s sake!” Beka’s voice is raised and a little hysterical.
“Actually Beka, it is a Time and Relative Dimension in Space device, in the approximation of a barrel.” corrects Rommie flatly.
“What do we know about this creature Rommie?” Dylan stands, legs akimbo and crosses his arms in a mirror of Rommie’s action.
“Not a lot. It is a variation of the Hermit, which is a reclusive species. These things spend their entire life cycle hidden in whatever dark, warm shell, cave or box it can commandeer. It takes its name from the hermit crab, found in many planets' oceans. There are only sketchy details of these things. Their main focus seems to be hiding from everyone else.”
“Sensible considering the state of the Universe.” pitches in Rhade, helpfully.
“Can’t Rommie just hit it with some electrical burst to open it up?” Beka scowls.
“No!” chorus Dylan, Harper and Rommie. “The feedback would cause excessive damage, we may not be able to repair it in time.” explains Rommie.
Dylan gives a half smile and moves to return to the Maru. “I have a plan.” he states, “Rhade, Beka. Bring the barrel on board.”
“Rhade, Beka, bring the barrel. Stupid barrel. Stupid Hermit” snarks Beka in a squeak behind Dylan’s back.
“I heard that Beka. We should try being tactful. This is the Hermit’s home.”
***
On the Bridge, Rhade continues to scan for Nietszchean ships, Pirion Ships, Commonwealth ships and enemies in general, because the Andromeda has far, far too many of them.
Dylan has been alone in his quarters with the barrel for too long and it has all gone quiet.
“Andromeda. Raise Dylan for us.”
“Captain Hunt has activated privacy mode.”
“DYLAN.” yells Beka over the intercom and Rhade stares at her with one eyebrow raised. “It’s been too long.” She states and he moves with her, they both reach to thigh holsters and unsheath their weapons on the way to his room.
“Rommie, override security.”
The door szhshes open and they both dive in, weapons at the ready, backs to the wall. The barrel stands upright and threatening in the center of the office and they sneak past it into the bedroom.
Water is running and a cloud of steam lingers by the bathroom. There’s the sound of footsteps and the tap being turned off. Beka and Rhade wait, tensed. There’s a rustle and another szhsh and Harper bounces in “I got it boss!” The engineer stops in his tracks and the rest of the crew’s gaze is drawn to the bed where he is staring, mouth agape.
‘Huh!” they say in unison.
“Um. Did you want something?” Dylan has the tiniest towel around his waist. He’s rubbing his hair dry with enthusiasm but drips still track down his firm muscled chest.
Beka swallows and licks her lips. Rhade has the grace to lower his force lance and Harper looks between the bed and back to the Captain.
“Er, guys?” Dylan raises both his brows and gives a pointed look while gesturing to the exit.
“Suitcase?” questions Beka.
“My valise” replies Dylan, blue eyes steady, not a blush to his cheeks.
“Home swap. That is inspired.” comments Rhade with an impressed nod.
“You should have explained the benefits.” says the, obviously female and very pert, brunette Hermit. “This one comes with a better view …….and a shower and there’s no yard work to take care of and…”
Dylan sidles over to her with a cough and a shooing movement to the crew.
“…without yard work I have time to appreciate other perks.” she trails her fingers from Dylan’s neck, over his nipples and down to his abs where she lingers at the edge of his towel.”
Beka, Rhade and Harper strain their necks to get a better view as Rommie enters the room. “Oh, my!” She says, brown eyes wide, red lips in round exclamation as she sizes up the scene.
“OUT” states Dylan forcefully.
“But we haven’t been introduced.” protests Harper with a leer at the petite brunette on the bed.
“We should probably…” Beka points to the door and raises her hands in a gesture of retreat.
Rhade follows with a cheeky wiggle of his brows and smirk to the Captain.
Rommie drags Harper through the door by his arm, all the time frowning at Dylan who simply shrugs, gives a dirty smirk of his own with his crows' feet wrinkling about bright blue eyes. “You should make sure all our circuits are ready to go. I still have some negotiating to do.” he says as the door shzshes closed and the crew look to each other with disbelief and gaping mouths.
“I have to..” says Rhade, making his way back to Bridge,
“Yeah.” says Beka, following him.
“I should probably…” mutters Rommie, looking busy.
“How come Captain Fantastic gets the girl every time and I just get a broken gizmo.” moans Harper as he ambles back to his workshop.
Captain Dylan Hunt doesn’t bother with words, he just takes the Hermit’s face gently in his hand and tips it gently so that their lips meet in a slow, deep and wet kiss.
They have a time machine. The rest of the mission can wait.
So here it is ..my first Andromeda fic. ... a very short story, especially er *cough* tailored to that certain person.
Description: PG. Total crack. The Andromeda's crew have a plan to erase the time bridge before it happened. Dylan is his usual self. Vague mention of a tardis like thing. (sorry Whovians)
Warnings: Product of a warped mind. Revolting grammar.
Disclaimer: This is fiction, pure fantasy folks and if it is going to happen, it hasn't yet but point me in the direction of the nearest space port anyhow.
She doesn’t want to be here. Absolutely, definitely does not want to be on this Vedran-forsaken trash pit of a backwater drift.
Twitta, Beka decides, is a spectacularly sleazy, seedy and scum bearing place. Particularly when it comes to men. Yep the men of Twitta suck and have grabby (now broken) hands. This particular mission sucks and for that she has to blame Harper’s out-of-control genius and yeah, Dylan too because his ideas are always such shiny pieces of precise planning.
“There’s one on Twitta.” Dylan had said with inimitable ease “We’ll pick up that one, come back and erase the Time Bridge with some time travel of our own.” Because it’s just that easy, thinks Beka. Nope, even Dylan himself admits it’s never easy, so why should things change this time.
Dylan strides over to them, relaxed and ridiculously over-dressed in his grey (ex) Commonwealth jacket. He looks at Beka and raises one eyebrow, his mouth quirks upwards and ocean blue eyes twinkle with sarcastic mirth. He turns his gaze to look at the others in annoyingly superior amusement.
Beka continues to point a gun at the offending item, Rhade is half heartedly holding a force lance in the general direction and Harper is wiping soot from his face and moping pathetically over the smoking remains of his multi-gizmo-zapper thingy. Rommie holds back at a distance with arms crossed and pursed mouth. Trance, well Trance has the good sense to be elsewhere entirely, somewhere with restaurants, flowers, ocean and an octopus with a unique breeding pattern. Beka wonders how come Trance gets to be somewhere with restaurants, she suspects it has to do with precognition.
“Did we bring it?” Dylan asks, and is treated to a group glare.
“Why can’t Harper just make one?” bitches Beka.
“I estimate that it would take four weeks and two days of Harper’s time and require components that the Andromeda does not currently have access to.” states Rommie, rolling her eyes upward.
“It broke my gizmo.” whines Harper, “and there was this hot chick in the drinks lounge who was all over me for a demonstration.”
“As a Nietszchean I admire its ingenuity and tenacity. It is a born survivor.” comments Rhade.
“Yeah well, you didn’t get attacked by evil, skull cracking squirrels, Rhade.” Beka glares at the Nietszchean.
“No I just had to contend with the chainsaw of death, while you were ogling that pilot in the fancy fighter ship.” retorts Rhade.
“Hey! You didn’t spend days making a gizmo which got blown up.” whines Harper.
“Has anyone tried to talk to it?” sighs Dylan.
“It says it doesn’t want to come out, it has yard work, has to trim some branches from a tree and anyway it likes it in there. How is that even possible? It’s a barrel for God’s sake!” Beka’s voice is raised and a little hysterical.
“Actually Beka, it is a Time and Relative Dimension in Space device, in the approximation of a barrel.” corrects Rommie flatly.
“What do we know about this creature Rommie?” Dylan stands, legs akimbo and crosses his arms in a mirror of Rommie’s action.
“Not a lot. It is a variation of the Hermit, which is a reclusive species. These things spend their entire life cycle hidden in whatever dark, warm shell, cave or box it can commandeer. It takes its name from the hermit crab, found in many planets' oceans. There are only sketchy details of these things. Their main focus seems to be hiding from everyone else.”
“Sensible considering the state of the Universe.” pitches in Rhade, helpfully.
“Can’t Rommie just hit it with some electrical burst to open it up?” Beka scowls.
“No!” chorus Dylan, Harper and Rommie. “The feedback would cause excessive damage, we may not be able to repair it in time.” explains Rommie.
Dylan gives a half smile and moves to return to the Maru. “I have a plan.” he states, “Rhade, Beka. Bring the barrel on board.”
“Rhade, Beka, bring the barrel. Stupid barrel. Stupid Hermit” snarks Beka in a squeak behind Dylan’s back.
“I heard that Beka. We should try being tactful. This is the Hermit’s home.”
***
On the Bridge, Rhade continues to scan for Nietszchean ships, Pirion Ships, Commonwealth ships and enemies in general, because the Andromeda has far, far too many of them.
Dylan has been alone in his quarters with the barrel for too long and it has all gone quiet.
“Andromeda. Raise Dylan for us.”
“Captain Hunt has activated privacy mode.”
“DYLAN.” yells Beka over the intercom and Rhade stares at her with one eyebrow raised. “It’s been too long.” She states and he moves with her, they both reach to thigh holsters and unsheath their weapons on the way to his room.
“Rommie, override security.”
The door szhshes open and they both dive in, weapons at the ready, backs to the wall. The barrel stands upright and threatening in the center of the office and they sneak past it into the bedroom.
Water is running and a cloud of steam lingers by the bathroom. There’s the sound of footsteps and the tap being turned off. Beka and Rhade wait, tensed. There’s a rustle and another szhsh and Harper bounces in “I got it boss!” The engineer stops in his tracks and the rest of the crew’s gaze is drawn to the bed where he is staring, mouth agape.
‘Huh!” they say in unison.
“Um. Did you want something?” Dylan has the tiniest towel around his waist. He’s rubbing his hair dry with enthusiasm but drips still track down his firm muscled chest.
Beka swallows and licks her lips. Rhade has the grace to lower his force lance and Harper looks between the bed and back to the Captain.
“Er, guys?” Dylan raises both his brows and gives a pointed look while gesturing to the exit.
“Suitcase?” questions Beka.
“My valise” replies Dylan, blue eyes steady, not a blush to his cheeks.
“Home swap. That is inspired.” comments Rhade with an impressed nod.
“You should have explained the benefits.” says the, obviously female and very pert, brunette Hermit. “This one comes with a better view …….and a shower and there’s no yard work to take care of and…”
Dylan sidles over to her with a cough and a shooing movement to the crew.
“…without yard work I have time to appreciate other perks.” she trails her fingers from Dylan’s neck, over his nipples and down to his abs where she lingers at the edge of his towel.”
Beka, Rhade and Harper strain their necks to get a better view as Rommie enters the room. “Oh, my!” She says, brown eyes wide, red lips in round exclamation as she sizes up the scene.
“OUT” states Dylan forcefully.
“But we haven’t been introduced.” protests Harper with a leer at the petite brunette on the bed.
“We should probably…” Beka points to the door and raises her hands in a gesture of retreat.
Rhade follows with a cheeky wiggle of his brows and smirk to the Captain.
Rommie drags Harper through the door by his arm, all the time frowning at Dylan who simply shrugs, gives a dirty smirk of his own with his crows' feet wrinkling about bright blue eyes. “You should make sure all our circuits are ready to go. I still have some negotiating to do.” he says as the door shzshes closed and the crew look to each other with disbelief and gaping mouths.
“I have to..” says Rhade, making his way back to Bridge,
“Yeah.” says Beka, following him.
“I should probably…” mutters Rommie, looking busy.
“How come Captain Fantastic gets the girl every time and I just get a broken gizmo.” moans Harper as he ambles back to his workshop.
Captain Dylan Hunt doesn’t bother with words, he just takes the Hermit’s face gently in his hand and tips it gently so that their lips meet in a slow, deep and wet kiss.
They have a time machine. The rest of the mission can wait.
