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.

Once aboard the Saratoga, Ross sent someone to find out McQueen's location, while Dylan returned to the quarters she'd occupied before. She stood looking around, remembering how the first time she’d been aboard she’d locked herself in, how she’d fallen for the handsome Lt. Col with the startling blue eyes, and how he’d flirted with her during their play sessions.

She sighed, *Oh Ty, I am not going to let you throw it all away. You need me as much as I need you. *

She dropped her bag on the bed, and rummaged through it, to find some jeans and a sweater to wear. A hot shower and a nap would help pass the time until she got the all clear from Glen, to let her know he’d spoken to Ty. If she could calm herself enough to take a nap, that is, she thought, knowing that in fact she was far too angry to get any sleep at all, until she’d seen Ty. Still, she thought as she headed for the shower, she could always write to her mother, and tell her what a great time she was having!

He was in the gym when she found him. She smiled; clipping the notice that Ross had given her on the door. It stated in no uncertain terms that entry was denied to ALL crew. She stood quietly in the corner, watching him as he beat the punching bag to death.

He was furious at himself for leaving her stranded, which he knew had been a horrible thing to do to her. She was, after all, a helluva lot further from home than he was. He was also furious at the men who had done this to them. As he kicked and punched the bag, he pictured it as the big red haired guy who’d grabbed Dill. When he allowed himself to admit it, he was ashamed too, at not being able to protect her, and at what she had very nearly witnessed.

He was furious at Glen too. He knew they were friends, and had been for years. Hell, Glen was his best friend, so anyone would think he’d know better than to interfere! He continued punching and kicking as he thought about his ‘talk’ with Glen. Of course it was Glen who’d done most of the talking, coming to his quarters, bottle in hand when he’d heard he was back onboard.

Glen had taken one look at his bruised and battered face and body as he emerged from the shower wearing only a towel, and shaking his head, had said, “So, what does the other guy look like?”

“Better than me.” he’d said. “There were 6 of them, 1 of me.”

Pouring them both a drink and handing one to McQueen, he’d asked, “Tell me about it?”

Sighing, McQueen had sat on the bed, allowing Ross the chair. “There’s not much to tell… the usual thing - objections to me being a tank.”

Ross had just sat looking at him, waiting.

Knowing he wasn’t going to be able to leave it there, he’d carried on. “We went out for dinner. It happened as we were leaving. Some rednecks grabbed me, decided to teach me the error of my ways.”

Ross had nodded. “And Dylan? How’s she? Where is she, Ty?”

McQueen had been unable to look him in the eye. Instead, he’d sat staring at the drink in his hand. “I left her at the beach house. She’s OK. They didn’t do more than split her lip.”

“You left her there? Alone? No doubt worried sick about you? Tyrus McQueen, sometimes I despair of you!” he’d yelled at him. “Do I have to punch some sense into that thick skull of yours?”

He’d looked up, shocked at the vehemence in his friend’s voice. Of all people, he’d thought Glen would understand. “She’s better off without me, Glen. God, tonight she could have been…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. “And it would have been because of me.”

“ No, Ty, it wouldn’t have been because of you.” Ross had told him quietly, but forcefully. “It would have been because of them.”

Ty'd shaken his head in denial.

“No, because of me - because I'm a stupid tank who should have known better. Dammit, Glen! The girl's barely seen the real world - how could she know? It was my responsibility to protect her, and I failed. I failed miserably.” Looking up at Glen, the misery evident on his face, he’d whispered, “It was her screaming that brought help. She saved me from….” He couldn’t finish, but he’d seen from the look on his friends’ face. Ross knew. “They held me down, beat the crap out of me, and were going to make her watch while they…” He’d stopped and taken a long drink from his glass. “They were going to make her watch while they raped me, Glen.”

Ross had sighed. “You think she blames you for the actions of some ignorant rednecks? I think you’re doing her a great injustice, Ty. But how could you just walk away - desert her when she probably needs you most right about now?”

“She’ll get over it. She’ll deal with it and move on. Just like I will.” he’d said defiantly. “She needs to harden up to the real world, not some cosy little dream she has of me and her in some cottage with roses round the door and hordes of kids!”

Ross couldn’t believe his ears. “You cold hearted, ignorant, blind son of a bitch! I ought to keel haul you, you stupid bloody tank! So what if she has some dream? Why the hell are we fighting this goddamn war? So people can continue to have stupid assed dreams! If you ask them, you’ll find that most of the crew on this ship have similar desires. It doesn’t matter - you don’t throw away a good thing just because you happen to disagree on one thing!“ He’d paused for breath, his face turning puce with his outrage. “In the 18 months you’ve known each other, how many times has she made an issue out of the fact that’s she’s seen you, what, 3 times? Dammit man. I’ve seen that parcel arriving for you every single mail call, without fail. Doesn’t that tell you something? She knows you’re a soldier, Ty. She accepts it. She knows that a cottage, roses…all that… is not you. But she’s a WOMAN, for christsakes… they like to dream about that stuff. And now she’s hurting, because the man she loves just up and left her when she needed him most! If I thought I stood a chance, I’d kick your ass from one end of my ship to the other!”

“I can’t do it again, Glen.” he’d whispered, the fear evident in his voice.

That had stopped Ross in his tracks. “Do what again, Ty?” he’d asked softly.

“Go through it again. Not after the last time.” He’d shaken his head, images of the rows with Amy filling his head. “I can’t, I just can’t.”

Realisation dawned and Ross had reached out to him, a hand on his shoulder. “She’s not Amy, Ty. Don’t expect her to act like Amy did. She’s a whole different person. One that loves you for you. Who knows that this is where you’re comfortable, where you’re most at home, but who still dreams about making a real home for you, a family, somewhere other than this damn ship. Hell, Ty, after this war is over, where will you go? You’ll stay out here waiting for the next one. Why should you? You have the chance to be happy - don’t throw it away.” **

Remembering the last part, Ty punched the bag so hard it swung back and hit him as he growled, “A family, huh? I can’t have kids, and you know it, Glen.“

In the corner Dylan heard his whispered words. She felt the pain and anguish behind them, and knew then and there that if she had to drag him kicking and screaming back to her, she would.

Stepping forward, she spoke, letting her anger show in her flat, hard voice. “So here you are.”

He turned, not quite hiding his pleasure at seeing her fast enough. “Dill, how did you get here?”

“Did you think I was stranded when you ran off and left me? Did it make you feel proud? Did it make you feel like a big, strong man to run away and desert the little woman?” She strode purposefully across the room towards him.

Reaching down for his towel, he started to speak. “It doesn’t matter what you say, I’m not going to…” He didn’t get a chance to finish before her fist connected with the side of his head, staggering him. Before he could regain his balance, she punched him again. The blow landed on his jaw, knocking him off his feet altogether, and he sprawled on the mat at her feet.

“If you even try to get up before I’m through with you, I swear I’ll hit you again.” she told him, standing over him, hands on hips. “You keep forgetting I’m half tank. I didn’t just inherit my father’s name, you know. I pulled those punches. I might not be as big as you, Colonel McQueen, but I’m almost as strong. You made the classic mistake of judging this book by its cover.”

“Dill…” he said, sitting up.

“Shut up, McQueen. You said more than enough earlier. Well, now it’s my turn and you will listen.” she told him, shoving him back down with her foot, and to his surprise, holding him there.

“Surprised I can hold you down? Those early tanks, they were strong. That’s why most of them didn’t survive their decanting - too much genetic interference. You, my boy, are younger than me, and even in those few years they got better at what they did. You’re strong, but not as strong as my father was…”

As he started to speak again, she shushed him. “Quiet. Wondering how I know? Easy - research it’s called. And of course I found my birth certificate. No name, just a batch number.” She shook her head. “What a bitch my mother truly is. Only she would put a batch number instead of a name. Scared I might try to find him, I suppose.”

Realizing he had his arm curled protectively around the area of the cracked rib, she removed her foot from his chest and bent down to touch him lightly. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” she asked, her concern evident despite her anger.

He shook his head, amazed at her. She’d knocked him to the floor, held him down, and now she was worried about his rib. Licking his sore split lip, he whispered, “I’m fine. Honestly.”

She dropped down to sit cross-legged beside him. “What are you so scared of, Ty? Why did you run away? It wasn’t your fault. There were far more of them than you could have dealt with.“ Seeing the indignant look on his face, she couldn't help grinning. “Don’t give me that macho crap about it’s your job to protect me - if that’s the case, why do you let women in the Marines?”

He sighed. “Can I speak now, or do you want to hit me some more?”

She glared at him. “For what you did to me, I should pound your face till your teeth fall out.” But she nodded. ”Yes, you can speak.”

“Dill, you were brought up in a closed off world. You didn’t mix with the rest of the world for 25 years. Hell, you didn’t even know what a tank was till you met me. What happened in that parking lot has happened to me a lot in the last 20 years. I’m used to it. I can deal with it and move on.“ He stared at the ceiling. “But I can’t stand by and let you put yourself through that, time and time again. Because that’s what it will be. When I was married to Amy...”

“Oh hell, it’s Amy again. I should have known.” she sighed, shaking her head. ”For pity's sake, Ty. I’m not Amy…don’t project her reactions onto me. So what if I didn’t know what a tank was? I didn’t have any preconceived ideas either.“ She stared at him. “Ty, it’s up to me to decide if I want to take the risk of it happening again - if I think it’s worth it. Look at me, Ty.” When he turned his head to look at her, she smiled. ”It IS worth it. YOU’RE worth it. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel the way you do, and I’m not going to let you throw it all away because of some stupid macho image you have of yourself. Next time I’ll know what to look out for, and I won’t argue about getting in the car.” she laughed. “But you don’t even know that it will happen again. Its possible yes - but then tomorrow you could be blown from the sky in this awful war… are you going to run away from that?”

“It’s not the same thing Dill, and you know it.” he growled at her, sitting up.

“But it is! Why can’t you see that? You’re worrying and making stupid decisions on what might happen. Think about it - how would you deal with your Marines, your kids, if they said ‘sorry I’ve decided not to be in the 5-8 any more, I couldn’t face the pain if anything happened to you’? You’d kick their arse and tell them that you’re more than capable of looking after yourself, wouldn’t you? But that’s what you’re doing to me.“ She stood. “Think about it, Ty. Do you want what I’m offering - love, acceptance, a warm bed to come home to - or are you going to lock yourself away, frightened to ever feel anything ever again, because of the way Amy treated you? I’m not Amy. I’m not running away. This time it’s you doing the running.” She turned and walked away, stopping at the door to say, ”Glen told me he’s arranged to take me home in 48 hours, so I guess you’ve got that long to make your mind up.” She pushed the door open and walked away, leaving him still sitting on the floor staring after her.

He watched her leave, his emotions in turmoil. His heart had leapt at the sight of her, but those uppercuts had surprised the life out of him. He stood, feeling his jaw where’d she hit him - he was going to have bruises on bruises at this rate! Picking up his towel, he headed for the showers. Maybe he could get his head straight if the water was hot enough.

He stood with the water running down his neck while he thought about everything both she and Glen had said. He had to admit she’d been right in what she said about his kids - he wouldn’t let them run away from fear that he might get hurt. That was not their worry. Sighing, he rested his forehead against the wall. God, but his body ached. He thought about Glen’s words, that he shouldn’t compare her to Amy, that she was a whole different person. He smiled. That she was. Amy would never have hit him. She’d have screamed her head off at him, then given him the silent treatment for a week or so. Dill, however… well, his jaw ached, that’s for sure. He seemed to be doing a lot of comparing to Amy, he realized. Why? Did he seriously believe that Dill would react the way Amy had? He shook his head, sending the water spraying around his face. No, he had no doubts at all that Dill loved him. Hell, he loved her. So why was it so hard to let himself really believe that this time might be for keeps? What was it Glen had said, something about making a home away from the ‘Toga? Where would he go after the war was over? Dill was offering him that - a home with her, her unconditional love. So why was it so hard to accept it? He sighed, a great chest heaving sigh that turned to a sob as he stood there, followed by another sob, and another, before he finally let it out, praying that no one would come in and see the stupid tank colonel blubbing in the shower.

Tears running freely, he knew why - because in the 26 years he’d been out of the tank, he could count his true friends on one hand, and still have room to spare. Hell, admit it, he told himself, you have one real friend – Glen. The others are people you know, who don’t mind that you’re a tank, but Glen is a friend, a real friend. He’d thought he loved Amy, and that she’d loved him. That misjudgment did him a great deal of harm. Thankfully he’d had Glen to help him through. He’d been afraid to let himself feel again until the 58th had come along. They’d wormed their way into his heart without him realizing. Dill though, from the moment he saw her, he knew he was in trouble. But this time he was the one running away. He loved his kids, but he still put them in danger everyday. It hurt, but he did it. Could he do it with Dill? Did he love her enough to let her stand on her own two feet? Did he dare not to?

When he finally managed to get himself under control, he knew the answer. Drying off, he got dressed and went to find her.

He knew where she’d be, in the little observation room at the top of the ship. She didn’t look up as he sat next to her. She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, watching the supply ships flying to and fro across the carrier.

“Do you remember the first time we sat up here?” he whispered. It was a place that seemed too small to do anything other than whisper.

“Yes.“ she said.

“You asked to see my navel.“ As she smiled, he carried on. “Look at me, Dill.” She turned her head and he could see the tears threatening to fall. The sight of her bruised and swollen lip almost made him change his mind. He reached out to touch her face. “I never told you, but when you asked to touch it, I was desperate for you to. If you’d just touched it, I wouldn’t have minded.”

“But you ran away.” She whispered, leaning into his hand.

He nodded once. “I’m done running, Dill. It’s no way to live. You make me happy. If you’ll still have me, I’d like you to be my girl. I know you’re not Amy. You couldn’t be more different. I'll try to stop comparing you to her. I am sorry for leaving you. I was scared. I never want that to happen to you again, but it hurts too much to be without you.” He sighed. “If you’re prepared to take the risk, then I can do nothing less myself. I like who I am when I’m with you. Please, Dill.”

“I loved the smell of that sandalwood soap you used.” she whispered. “Why don’t you use it anymore?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“I wish you would. I always think of you when I smell it. It’s a comfort.”

“I will, I promise. But please, Dill, am I forgiven?” he pleaded quietly.

She nodded, reaching out to take his hand. “I’m sorry I hit you, but I needed you to understand I’m capable of defending myself. It seemed the best way to do it. I know I wasn’t much use earlier, but I was so scared for you I wasn’t thinking straight. If there’s ever a next time, it’ll be a different story.“

“That’s some right hook you’ve got there. Would you object if I showed you a few moves, to help you defend yourself? It’d make me feel happier when I’m out there.” He nodded towards the stars.

“What about you? Do you promise to keep me clued in to what you’re doing, how you are? Nobody told me about your leg. If I’d known you were here, I would have come to see you. It hurt thinking that I wasn't important enough to tell.”

“I promise. I’m sorry about not telling you, but I was in no fit state. And then all I could think about was getting back out here… back to my kids.“ He chuckled. “I suspect Glen will make sure you know if anything else happens to me.”

She smiled. “I like Glen, he’s nice.”

He nodded, pulling her to him. “That he is.”

They sat, he with Dill on his lap, in a companionable silence, happy to be in each other’s company, until Dylan gave a huge, face splitting yawn, reminding him that it was in fact the middle of the night.

“Come on, sleepy head.” he laughed. “Let’s get you to bed.” He stood, lifting her in his arms.

Nestling her head into his chest, she mumbled, “That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.”

Smiling to himself, he carried her through the ships corridors, not caring who saw them. He tucked her into bed, in his quarters, before snuggling up next to her, unable to believe his luck that she still loved him.

Next : Chapter 9
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