Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program "SPACE: Above and Beyond" are the creations of Glen Morgan and James Wong, Fox Broadcasting and Hard Eight Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. Dylan Mackenzie belongs to me.

After one such distraction Dill found him talking on the phone. Looking up at her he waved her away, signing off before he spoke to her.

“I thought we’d go out for dinner tonight, as we only have today and tomorrow left.”

“That would be lovely, Ty.” she smiled, going over to him and hugging him. ”How thoughtful you are.” She frowned. “But I thought I heard him say something about… everyone’s welcome?”

He nodded. “I had to check that they’d serve invitro’s.” he said, watching her response.

“What?” she asked, puzzled.

“Invitro’s aren’t welcome everywhere. It’s best to phone and check first - saves any embarrassment later.” He sighed, holding her tight.

She looked up into his cool blue eyes. “You have to do that every time?” she whispered, burying her head in his chest as he nodded. “God, Ty, how can you stand it?”

He shook his head gently. “I just do, Dill - what else can I do? I warned you, not everyone thinks like you do. To some people, I’m always going to be Frankenstein’s monster. You’ll have to get used to it too.“ He stopped and whispered, “That is, if you want to. If you want us to…well… if you want to be with me.”

“If I want to be with you? Why do you think I’m here, you gawp! Of course I want to be with you!” she grinned, then looked into his eyes, all laughter gone. “Are you asking me to be your girl, Tyrus McQueen, in that odd roundabout way that you have?” At his small nod, she laughed. “You certainly took your time!”

He gave her a brief smile. “Well, I wouldn’t want to be called presumptuous. You might not think of us like that.” he whispered.

She pulled away from him. “Good grief, man! How long has it been…18 months? You think I send parcels and naughty letters to every Tom, Dick and Harry? Do you think I had to fit this week into my busy schedule between my other boyfriends? Do you have so little trust in me?” She shook her head, and kissed him soundly. “There is only one man in my life, and that is you, you great gawp!” she giggled. “Honestly! As if I’d ever want anyone else.”

He pulled her back into his arms, kissing the top of her head. “Have I told you lately that I love you?” he whispered.

“If you start singing that cheesy song, I’m outta here.” she laughed.

They enjoyed their meal, laughing and talking with ease. Dylan marvelled at how relaxed he seemed to be. Their talk earlier, and her confirmation that she was his girl, had seemed to boost his confidence no end. Until then, it had never occurred to her that he lacked any.

He’d chosen a restaurant that had a small bar and dance floor attached, so after their meal they sat in the bar, cuddling up to each other and enjoying the intimacy while they had a drink. This time, she noticed, he didn’t shrink away when she publicly touched him, or kissed him.

To her surprise, he pulled her onto her feet to dance with him. It was a slow dance, and he held her close, his hand gently rubbing the small of her back, as the other held her’s close to his chest. She could feel the heat of his body through his shirt. It made her acutely aware of his maleness, and she found herself becoming highly aroused. Looking up into his eyes, now a deep dark blue, she could tell that he was too. She didn’t need to feel his arousal against her body every time she moved to know that. He bent his head to kiss her, and she could feel his desire and want in the kiss.

“Let’s get out of here.” she whispered hoarsely.

He nodded, taking her hand and leading her out towards the parking lot.

They passed a group of young men who had obviously been at the bar there all night. Seeing the two of them heading out, holding hands, one of them spoke. He was a big beefy red head - so red he was carrot coloured.

”We seen you with that tank, girl. Careful… you know what they’re like. If you wanna stay safe, better stay here with us. We’ll show you a good time.” he leered.

McQueen stiffened, but carried on walking, pulling Dylan close to him. “Ignore them.“ he whispered quietly. Dylan nodded, scared, but trusting him, knowing they’d soon be heading home.

The voice called after them. “Hey darlin’…we can show you a good time - don’t need no dirty tank! Come on over here. Let us show you what a real man’s like.” The others with him all laughed.

She could feel the tension in Ty’s hand as he pushed through the door. “Dill, get in the car… get in now!” he said, hurrying her along and handing her the keys.

“Where is it?” she asked. “Where did you park it? Ty, you know I can’t drive.”

“Just get in and lock the door.” he said. ”I’ve met that sort before; they’ll be coming after us. I’m not going to let them hurt you, Dill.”

“But Ty, what about you? You get in, too.” She saw the look on his face, and knew what he was going to do. “No, Ty! You told me not to rise to the bait. You’re on leave, for gods’ sake! Don’t do this! Please!”

He looked at her frightened face. “OK.“ he sighed, pushing her into the car and going around to the driver’s side. She was right. He was on leave. It wouldn’t do to be hauled up before Ross for brawling, and he couldn’t risk Dill getting hurt.

He didn’t make it to his side of the car. Hands grabbed him from behind, dragging him backwards and off his feet, slamming him face down onto the bonnet of the car. He saw Dill being pulled from the car by yet more thugs. It made him fight hard, jabbing backwards with his elbows, struggling to free himself. What it got him was a punch to the side of his head and his legs being knocked out from under him. As he hit the floor more hands joined the fray, holding him down, while boots rained down upon any part of his squirming body they could reach. He could feel the blood in his mouth as a boot connected, and hear the yells of encouragement they gave each other as more boots connected to other parts of his body. He was desperate to find Dill and fought them as hard as he could. Difficult to do, he thought, while you’re being held face down on the floor, but he tried anyway. He could hear her shouting.

Dill was dragged from the car. Two of them lifted her bodily, she being so much smaller than them. They carried her over to the back of a dirty, battered pick up, and throwing her in, climbed up after her.

”Hey darlin’…you want a man…a real man? We seen you with that filthy creature. Why’re you wasting yourself with an animal like that...?” The red head who’d leered at her in the bar was in her face, breathing beer fumes all over her. He shook his head. “Or’d he pay you?” he asked. “Tank like that, I figure, surely you’d make him pay, yeah?” Seeing her eyes wide, her frightened face, he laughed. “Well, tonight, darlin’, is your lucky night. You get a real man…for free!”

“Go to hell!” she finally managed to get out, lashing out with her foot. She connected with his thigh as he knelt next to her.

“Oh baby, you like the rough stuff, eh?” he grinned at her. “We can do rough, eh?“ He looked around at his accomplice, who nodded his head, grinning.

Dylan looked over towards the car, where she saw McQueen being dragged to the floor. “Leave him alone!” she screamed, struggling to get out of the pick up. She managed to get over the side before they grabbed her.

“Spunky little thing, ain’t yer?” her tormentor grinned. “Well, why don’t we have some fun?” he leered. Shouting to the others, who were beating McQueen, he yelled, “OK boys, let’s have ourselves a little fun. The tank wants a little action - lets give him some.“ Turning to Dill, he leered, “And you can watch. Then, honey buns…you’re all mine.”

She looked on in horror as they dragged McQueen up from the floor. She could see the blood on his face, the bruises already starting to form on his body where they’d ripped the shirt from his back. They flung him across the car bonnet, face down, and began to pull at his trousers, yanking them down his thighs as he struggled to stop them. Realising what she was about to witness, Dill felt a cold chill grip her. “Leave him alone.“ she screamed. “You want some fun, take me, but leave him alone!”

The red head grinned at her again. “Oh, I will darlin’, but not before we’ve had some fun with the tank here. Why you yellin’? It’s what tanks were made for.”

At her whispered, “Oh, Ty.”, he laughed viciously. “Hold him down boys, I’m a comin’ over!”

As the man approached McQueen, who by now was firmly held in place, his trousers and boxers round his ankles, Dylan started to scream for all she was worth. Twice she managed, before a blow to the mouth stopped her, knocking her to the floor. It had the desired effect, though, as several people emerged from the bar. Dylan screamed at them, “Call the sheriff!“

One of them disappeared back inside, but the others approached the group. Dylan recognised one as the young waiter who’d served them.

“Help us, please!” she yelled at him.

Then she was free, thrown to the ground. At the same time she saw McQueen released, thrown casually to the ground in front of the car. The thugs ran for their pick up, beating a hasty retreat. Dylan crawled across to McQueen, cradling his head in her hands. “Oh, Ty.” she whispered, kissing him before pulling his clothes back up. She felt grateful that at least they hadn’t actually done more than just beat him.

“Dill.” he croaked, his voice hoarse. “You OK? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

She hugged him, feeling him wince. “No, Ty, they didn’t hurt me. I’m fine. But you…my god, you look like you were run over by a steamroller.”

The waiter coming over interrupted them. “Are you OK?” he asked, his young face full of concern. “We called 911. They’ll be here soon. They sure beat you good and proper. Hell,” he sighed, “it stinks, don’t it, being a tank?”

McQueen would have laughed, but he was sure he’d got at least one broken rib. He’d felt it scraping when he’d sat himself up. “Like you’d know.“

The boy nodded his head. “Sure do. This is my dad’s place. He’s a tank - that’s why everyone’s welcome.”

McQueen just sat and stared at him. Dylan reached out to the boy. “Thank you.” she said. “Thank you very much.”

They could hear the wailing of the sirens in the distance. The boy stood up.

“They’ll be here any minute. I better get inside. Dad’ll go ballistic when he finds out. I’m real sorry that this happened to you.” With that, he turned and ran back indoors.

They spent another hour in the car park, while McQueen argued with the medics that he was OK. The rib turned out to be cracked, not broken. Once he was cleaned up they could see that he needed a couple of stitches in his head, but nothing major. They all agreed he’d been very lucky, and it could have been worse. McQueen and Dylan exchanged glances. It could have been a lot worse.

The journey home was unnervingly quiet, with Dylan not knowing what to say, and worried about the way McQueen had seemed to shut down. Faced with this new person, she didn’t know what to do.

“Ty?” she whispered.

“Yes?” came his distracted reply. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head, the doors closing on her.

“Are you OK?”

“I’m fine.” he almost barked at her.

Sighing, she tried again.

“Talk to me, Ty, please?”

He glanced quickly at her, and she was shocked to see the cold, hard look on his face.

”I said I’m fine.“

“OK.” she whispered, hunching into the seat.

Not another word was spoken, until they got home, and Dylan found him packing his things.

“What are you doing?”

He didn’t even look at her. “I’m leaving, Dill. This was a mistake. It won’t work. It didn’t then, and it won’t now. I’m a tank - that is never going to change.” He stood up, hoisting his seabag over his shoulder, walking away.

For a second or two she just stood there frozen, then, “What the hell are you talking about? It won’t work? What? Us? We won’t work? Why?”

He turned. “It’ll happen again, Dill. Only next time there won’t be anyone to help. You’re better off without me. I couldn’t help you tonight… who knows if I could next time?”

“Next time? Next time? Stop saying next time! You don’t know that there’ll be a next time!” she yelled at him.

“No, there won’t be.“ he said quietly. “I’m not prepared to take that risk. Bye, Dill.”

“Don’t you bloody walk away from me!” she screamed at him, her temper truly getting the better of her. “You’re not prepared to take the risk? What about me? Don’t I get a say?”

He looked at her, this small elfin woman who had truly stolen his heart, but whom he’d been unable to protect. He couldn’t risk her getting hurt in another situation like the one tonight. He knew he was hurting her now, but it was for the best. She’d get over it, and he’d be secure in the knowledge that any harm that came to her wasn’t because of him. Yes, it hurt him, but he was used to that. It’d happened before, and it would happen again. He’d deal with it, and move on.

“No, Dill, you don’t get a say. I won’t be responsible for you getting hurt. Don’t lay that on me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to leave. I’ll get Hawkes to come pick you up on Friday, to make sure you get home safely.”

She stared at him. “You’re not going anywhere, Tyrus McQueen.” she whispered, her voice hard and cold. “Do you really think I’m going to let you just walk away? You’re going to sit down and talk to me, if I have to break every bone in your body before you do.”

Sighing, he turned to face her, dropping his bag to the floor. “Don’t do this, Dill. I’ve made my decision. You won’t change my mind. You’re better off without me. Your mother was right - I’ll cause you nothing but grief. Let’s finish this now, and we can both get on with our lives.” He reached for his bag and left her standing staring after him, tears streaming down her face.

She heard the sound of the car starting and ran to the front of the house. But all she saw was the taillights as he drove away.

Next : Chapter 8
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