Moments of Joy

Part Three

McQueen walked down the corridor toward his quarters, thinking about the things Alex had just said.

'Life is pain, Ty. The few moments of joy we experience are the exception, not the rule. The best we can hope for is contentment.'

He'd been surprised to hear his own beliefs from her lips. He never would have expected her to recognize the sheer difficulty of existence. She always seemed so... happy.

'Children have crappy lives too. They get ignored. They get mistreated. They get abused. Nasty things happen to them.'

She'd spoken so passionately, he wondered whether 'nasty things' had happened to her as a child, or to someone close to her. Somehow, he'd always thought of her as never having suffered, as having a led a safe and sheltered life. He was surprised to find that the thought of her in pain bothered him. Not surprising, really. She was so helpless out here. She just didn't fit in. Someone had to look out for her and it seemed he'd been elected.

So, Hawkes had already made a pass and been turned down. McQueen was relieved. Seeing the two of them together had always bothered him a little. He'd told himself that it was out of concern that Hawkes would get hurt, or maybe he was afraid that Alex wouldn't know how to turn Hawkes down. There was a part of him that whispered that he was deliberately ignoring the real reason he didn't like seeing them together. Still, now that he knew she'd already taken care of things, he could relax and not worry about it.

He reached his quarters and punched in his door code. The Tequila went on top of the bookshelf. The trail mix he threw on the desk. He sorted through the four books until he found the first in the series, then put the rest of them on the bookshelf. The first one he kept in his hand as he sat down at his work desk. She wanted him to read it, so he should at least take a look at it. What in the world was a 'Hobbit', anyway?

An hour later, he came out of the world of Bilbo Baggins and looked around. He had to admit it was interesting. He put the book down and left his quarters, headed for Tun Tavern. The 58th was already there. So was Alex who smiled at him a little hesitantly. He nodded and took the empty seat beside her.

"Deal you in, Colonel?" Wang asked.

He nodded again as Siverson came over to take their orders. The rest of the group must not have been here very long.

"The usual, Alex?" Siverson asked.

"Actually, I'll take an Amaretto Sour."

Siverson stared. So did the 58th. McQueen looked over at Alex and she blushed.

"What? Can't a girl get a drink in a bar without it becoming a federal case?"

"Depends on the girl," McQueen said. "And I thought we'd covered this girl/woman thing already?"

Alex looked confused, then laughed and blushed at the same time. "So we did."

Vansen narrowed her eyes and looked back and forth between Alex and McQueen.

"Yes, Captain?" McQueen prompted.

"Nothing, Sir." Vansen grinned at him.

Siverson came back with the drinks. She put one down in front of Alex. "On the house," she said. "I thought you didn't drink."

"I don't, generally. Today, I can use it."

Vansen looked at McQueen again. Her expression was thoughtful. McQueen met her eyes steadily.

Alex took a small sip and smiled. "Not bad," she told Siverson.

"Yeah, but can she make you a Bellini?" Damphousse asked.

"What flavor?" Siverson asked.

"Peach," West answered.

"And Strawberry Margaritas," Wang said.

"I've got the Tequila," McQueen offered.

Alex laughed. "They are determined to get me drunk," she told Siverson.

"Really? That's something I'd like to see. Let me work on it." Siverson winked at Damphousse and went back to the bar.

"What is this obsession you all have with getting me drunk? I am surrounded by conspirators to steal my..." Alex trailed off.

McQueen looked at her.

"Well, I was going to say virtue, but I don't think that really applies here," Alex laughed.

"Your sobriety," Damphousse supplied.

"Here's to sobriety," Alex said, taking another sip.

"What is that?" Hawkes asked, indicating the drink in Alex's hand.

"An Amaretto Sour." Alex leaned over the table and handed it to Hawkes. "Try it."

Hawkes took a tentative sip, then a bigger one. "That's good," he said as he passed it back. "Sweet."

"Um hum. I like sweet things."

"So how come you're hanging around us?" Vansen asked.

Alex laughed again. "Ya'll aren't that bad."

"Ya'll?" McQueen asked.

"All right. I'm from Texas. Sometimes I slip into the vernacular."

From behind them, the sound of an argument began to grow. Alex turned her head to see what was going on. Her jaw tightened when she saw it was Pellowski and Lt. Rundquist. Alex watched closely as the argument grew louder. McQueen couldn't make out the words, just the tone. After a few moments, Pellowski stood up quickly, knocking her chair over. She started to move away from the table, but Rundquist grabbed her arm.

"Let me go, Steve!" Pellowski said loudly.

McQueen moved, but Alex was closer. She was over beside the two before he was halfway there. The Wild Cards hadn't vacated their chairs yet.

"Let her go." Alex's tone brooked no argument.

Rundquist stared at her, then slowly released Pellowski's wrist. McQueen stood behind Alex, ready to back her up if she needed it.

Rundquist glanced at McQueen, then sneered at Alex. "If you two hadn't been occupying the room, I'd already have gotten what I want."

Alex stiffened. McQueen's eyes narrowed.

"Are you all right, Lizzie?" Alex didn't take her eyes from Rundquist.

"I'm fine, Alex." Pellowski rubbed her wrist.

"Good. Why don't you leave now, Lieutenant?" Alex suggested.

"I don't take orders from no damn Tank lover," Rundquist muttered angrily.

McQueen put his hands on Alex's waist and moved her out of the way. He leaned into Rundquist's face and put his fists on his hips. The young man swallowed hard.

"How do you feel about taking orders from the Tank, himself, Lieutenant?"

Rundquist snapped to attention. "Sir, I feel fine about taking orders from you, Sir," he barked out.

"Are you sure about that, Lieutenant?"

"Sir. Yes Sir."

"Because I could arrange for you not to have to take orders from me if it bothers you so much."

"Sir. That won't be necessary, Sir."

"Do you want to go somewhere where you don't have to see my face anymore, Lieutenant? I can arrange that, too."

"Sir. No, Sir!"

"You're sure?"

"Sir. The Lieutenant meant no disrespect, Sir."

"Really? Did that comment sound disrespectful to you, Captain Vansen?"

"Sir." Vansen's voice sounded from right behind him, where he'd known she'd be. "The Captain found the Lieutenant's comment extremely disrespectful, Sir."

"Sir. The Captain misunderstood me, Sir." Rundquist was sweating now.

"Are you suggesting that Captain Vansen is stupid, Lieutenant?" McQueen snapped.

"Sir. No, Sir!"

"Do you think I'm stupid?" McQueen asked.

"Sir. No, Sir!"

"Then maybe you're the one who's stupid, Lieutenant."

"Sir. The Lieutenant would agree with the Colonel's assessment, Sir."

McQueen backed up a step without taking his eyes of Rundquist. He stared at the young man for a moment, disgusted with the whole situation, then looked over at Pellowski.

"Are you all right, Ms. Pellowski?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Do you want to press charges?"

Her eyes widened and she looked at Rundquist. He stared straight ahead, sweating. She lowered her eyes and shook her head.

"Dismissed, Lieutenant," McQueen said.

"Sir. Thank you, Sir!" Rundquist practically ran for the door.

McQueen looked over at Alex. She had an arm around Pellowski and was looking at him with a sad expression. He knew she hated that he'd had to do that, that she'd been, at least partially, the cause of it. He looked down at Pellowski again. She was rubbing her arm.

"Are you sure you're all right, Ms. Pellowski?"

"Yes. Thank you, Colonel." Her voice was barely audible.

He nodded, then looked around at the audience. He raised an eyebrow and gave them a look that encouraged them to be elsewhere. He knew this would be all over the ship in about an hour.

"Come on, Lizzie," Alex said. "Let's go back to our quarters."

"Colonel McQueen," Pellowski said.

McQueen looked down at her.

"Colonel, I'd like to apologize..." she trailed off, then tried again. "I mean, I'm sorry I..." She looked up and met his eyes. "I'm sorry I prejudged you."

He looked down at her without responding. He'd heard the same kind of statement many times. For some reason, Natural Borns thought such apologies should be a triumph for him. They just made him tired. She expected a response, though, so he nodded once. "Thank you, Ms. Pellowski."

He reached out for her arm and she almost flinched. Steeling himself, he took her wrist, barely touching her. He turned it over and looked at it. No bruises. She wasn't hurt. "That doesn't look bad at all," he said.

"No, it doesn't." She turned to Alex. "You don't have to go with me, Alex. I'll be fine."

Alex smiled and patted her on the shoulder as she headed for the door and McQueen went back to the poker table and sat down. He'd rather go to his quarters and find a little peace, but that wouldn't send the proper message. The 58th sat down and picked up their cards. Alex joined them. They sat for a moment in silence.

"Your bid, Paul," West said.

They played the hand. It was Damphousse's deal.

"So," Alex said cheerfully. "Will someone please explain why everyone was talking in third person back there?"

Vansen snorted. West tried to suppress a grin.

"I mean, really," Alex continued. "It sounded like something out a *bad* play."

Damphousse started to chuckle. Vansen joined her, and the rest of the 58th followed their lead. McQueen shook his head with a tiny grin and looked over at Alex. Her mouth was smiling, but it didn't reach her eyes. She'd done it for the effect, so the 58th would relax and everyone else in the bar would see them laughing. She looked down at her cards, then back over at McQueen with a sad smile.

"Ty."

McQueen looked up as Ross walked over and stood close to him, leaning his head in confidentially. "Commodore?"

"I hear there was some trouble in the Tavern last night."

McQueen nodded. "One of Ms. Pellowski's gentlemen friends took exception when she said no."

Ross tilted his head and looked at McQueen. "I hear that wasn't all there was to it."

McQueen didn't reply.

"I know you like to handle these things yourself, Ty, but I will not tolerate disrespect towards a member of my command staff. Not on my ship."

"Sir. The disrespect was directed towards Ms. Larson."

"Alex? What did she have to do with it?"

McQueen was silent for a moment. "Sir, a... slur was directed toward Ms. Larson regarding her choice of... companionship."

Ross' face darkened. "I see."

"I discussed this slur at some length with the perpetrator."

Ross' mouth twitched. "I see," he said in an altogether different tone. "Do you think any further action needs to be taken?"

"Ms. Pellowski didn't want to press charges, Sir."

Ross looked into McQueen's eyes and nodded slowly. "Very well, Colonel. Carry on."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

Alex was sitting at the bar, drinking a glass of wine. Tonight, Siverson had given her a nice Chardonney to try. It wasn't bad.

Shane was sitting with her and they were discussing the relative merits of the men around them. The conversation was carried on very quietly because it was, quite frankly, a little naughty. Their giggles occasionally caused 'the boys', as Alex thought of them, to turn and stare from the poker table. Damphousse was sitting with the boys because she wanted to win back the spare cash she'd lost during the last game. She didn't appear to be succeeding.

McQueen gave Alex and Shane a couple of disgusted glances early on, then shook his head and ignored them. Alex giggled and ignored him back.

"What about him?" Shane asked, nodding toward a large, extremely well-built ensign.

"Please," Alex said. "He probably spends more time wrapped around his weights then around a woman."

Shane snickered. "You're right."

Alex looked at Shane curiously. "Doesn't it ever bother you, living in such close quarters with three good-looking men?"

Shane grinned and shrugged. "Nathan has a one-track mind, and that train's name is Kylen Selena. Paul's okay. I hate to use a cliché, but he's more like a brother. Although," Shane leaned closer. "I'm not sure, but I think Wang and 'Phousse might get something going eventually."

"Really?" Alex glanced casually over at the poker table. She'd never noticed anything that would suggest a romance between those two, but she'd keep an eye out now. Not that she was the interfering type, she just liked to know what was going on. "What about Cooper?"

Shane toyed with her glass and didn't answer. Alex pursed her lips and tried to decide whether to push. It really wasn't any of her business.

"He's too young," Shane said finally.

"Time will fix that," Alex said quietly. "He'll be one hell of a man someday."

Shane met her eyes, then glanced at Hawkes. "He may not have time." She tossed back her drink, then turned with a smile. "You know, Alex, with more than 8,000 men on this ship, we've got to be able to find at least one that interests you."

Alex laughed. "Oh, I know there's at least one."

"Really? Who?"

"I just said I know there's at least one. I haven't necessarily identified him yet."

Shane gave her an amused look just as Cooper walked over and leaned on the bar beside Alex. He glanced back and forth between the two women.

"What are you two talking about?" he asked.

"Just girl talk, Sweetie," Alex told him.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "That means you're not gonna tell me, right?"

"Right," Shane agreed.

"I'll lay two to one odds on the nipple-neck," a nasty male voice said.

Alex looked over and saw two men and a woman standing a couple of feet away. Their expressions matched the tone of voice she'd just heard.

"What do you mean by that?" Shane demanded.

"Two to one, the nipple-neck can do both of you in twenty minutes," one of the men said.

Alex put her hand on Cooper's arm before he could move.

Shane's jaw tightened and she stood up. "I don't like your tone of voice, Tomlinson."

"Too bad, Vansen."

Alex couldn't believe that Shane, who was several inches shorter than herself and had always seemed so feminine and delicate, was standing there, glaring up at a man at least a foot and a half taller. Maybe Alex had restrained the wrong Wild Card.

"How're you gonna know if he does it or not?" Tomlinson's female friend asked.

"We'll watch, of course," Tomlinson smirked. "I always thought Vansen would make a great main attraction in a.."

Alex started as Shane's fist connected solidly with Tomlinson's jaw. The other man lunged for Cooper and Alex was knocked off the bar stool. She landed on her feet and watched in amazement as everyone in the bar joined in and the whole thing became a free-for-all.

"Alex." Siverson grabbed her shoulder from behind the bar. "Get back here."

Alex looked around, trying to see whether she could reach the door that flipped up to allow access to the back of the bar. A thrown glass made her decide the best choice was to go over, not around. She pushed herself up and flipped around so she was sitting on the bar. Just as she was getting ready to swing her feet over, she heard McQueen's voice.

"Break it up! That's enough!"

The Wild Cards responded immediately, pausing and looking around for their CO, but the rest of the brawlers kept going and the 58th responded in kind. McQueen was standing by the poker table, not even bothering to duck as objects flew around him.

"Hawkes, get Alex out of there!" he ordered.

Cooper threw someone on the floor and scooped Alex off the bar, carrying her quickly over to where McQueen stood. He put her feet on the ground and dashed back into the fray to pull a navy captain off West.

"Hawkes!" McQueen yelled.

Alex ducked as another glass flew toward her. McQueen grabbed her and pushed her toward the wall, blocking the flying debris with his body.

"I said, that's enough," he yelled again.

Alex peeked around him, her eyes wide, not believing what she was seeing. She'd heard that Marines liked to brawl, but up to now, she'd never seen it happen. She was completely stunned to see her friends, who she'd always thought of as calm and gentle, cheerfully beating other people black and blue. She glanced up at McQueen who had a disgusted look on his face. He winced when Damphousse took a particularly nasty hit, then suppressed a grin when she came back with a roundhouse punch to the jaw of the ensign who'd just hit her.

"Enough!" McQueen bellowed again.

This time, the fighting slowly stopped. Third time's the charm, Alex thought. The brawlers lined up in front of McQueen, sporting black eyes and swollen knuckles, their clothes in disarray. Alex stared, open-mouthed at the Wild Cards.

"Alex, you were in the middle of it. Who threw the first punch?" McQueen asked.

Alex looked at McQueen, then back at the Cards. Shane was staring at the wall over Alex's left shoulder. Alex looked into Ty's eyes and lied. "I actually didn't see who started it. I was getting a refill and when I turned around..." she shrugged and gestured to the mess they'd made.

McQueen's mouth twitched. She knew he didn't believe her, but she kept her face completely innocent.

"Captain Vansen," McQueen said, without taking his eyes from Alex. "Did you see who started the fight?"

"No, Sir."

McQueen looked over at Shane. "Was it Hawkes?"

"No, Sir."

"If you didn't see who started it, how do you know it wasn't Hawkes?"

"Sir, Lt. Hawkes was in my line of sight when the fight started."

McQueen raked his eyes over the men and women standing before him. "Does anyone know who started this fight?"

Alex was impressed at the way the all indicated a negative without speaking or moving a muscle. She was also pleased that Tomlinson and his friends kept their mouths shut. Maybe it was true - what happened in the ranks, stayed in the ranks.

She looked at McQueen again and saw, not her friend who talked about philosophy, but a ranking officer dealing with unruly troops. She shivered, glad she wasn't the one he was displeased with. She hoped she'd never see him really angry.

"You're all confined to quarters for forty-eight," he said disgustedly. "Dismissed."

As the entire group headed for the door, Shane sent Alex a grateful look. Alex winked at her. She looked around at the mess, then went over to the bar. "Need some help cleaning up?" she asked Siverson.

Siverson grinned. "Love it. Thanks." She passed a broom and dustpan over the bar and Alex started sweeping up broken glass, wondering where they'd get replacements.

"Alex."

She looked up. "Yes, Ty?"

"Who started the fight?"

"I told you, I don't..." She broke off at his level look and gave him a shame-faced grin. "Do you really want to know?"

He nodded.

"Off the record?"

He nodded again.

"Shane."

"Vansen? Why?"

Alex shrugged. "A guy named Tomlinson made some off-color remarks."

"How off-color?"

Alex blushed. "He suggested that Cooper should 'do' Shane and I while they watched. There was also something about timing how long it would take. I didn't really follow it."

McQueen's eyes hardened. "I see."

"I couldn't believe it when she punched him. I always thought she was so... classy."

McQueen's eyes twinkled. "She's a classy soldier."

"It was just so... unexpected. Do they always fight like that?"

McQueen shrugged this time. "Vansen doesn't usually start it. Although she did a couple of times back on Earth." He grinned. "Usually it's Hawkes and West, though."

Alex shook her head. "I've just never seen a real brawl before."

His grin broadened. "Welcome to the Marine Corps, Ms. Larson." She laughed as he looked around. "Quite a mess," he said, turning toward the door.

"Hey! Aren't you going to help clean up?"

He gave her an amused look. "I'm a Colonel, Alex. I don't do floors anymore."

He grinned and left as she burst out laughing again.

The alarm klaxon blared and Alex looked up, fearfully. The Saratoga had been attacked twice since she'd been on board, both times taking minor damage and few casualties. She and the other civilians were supposed to go to sick bay, the most protected part of the ship, when battle stations sounded. Alex didn't mind because she could be useful there - helping to move gurneys or comforting the wounded.

She waited until all the running in the corridor died down. The first time, she'd tried to get through the halls immediately, but she'd only gotten in people's way. The second time, she'd waited a bit and got through the halls without causing a problem.

She stood up and headed into the corridor. As she turned the corner, an explosion rocked the ship, throwing her against the wall. She heard loud voices coming from back down the hall where the bridge was. Ross was giving orders, his voice louder than normal as he tried to make himself heard. A second explosion rocked the ship and she heard a loud crash from the direction of the bridge.

She looked at the elevator. She was supposed to go to sick bay. Another crash sounded from the bridge. Someone cried out, and then silence. Ross wasn't yelling orders anymore. Fear shot though her and she ran back up the corridor.

She dashed onto the bridge and looked around. A beam had fallen from the ceiling and crushed the center table. Lt. Tsu lay to one side. Martinez was at the primary weapons control station cradling badly burned hands. The station looked like it had melted. Alex looked around carefully and saw that most of the primary stations were in bad shape. The Communications officer had already moved to the secondary position. Ensign Abercrombie was sitting on the floor, holding her hand against her forehead. Blood was seeping out through her fingers. Alex headed down the stairs toward her.

The ship rocked again and Alex grabbed for the railing. She missed and started to fall, but McQueen was there. He grabbed her and pulled her against him, holding her upright. Amazing, Alex thought, how trivialities stood out in the middle of a situation like this. Trivialities like how good Ty's arms felt around her, how strong and solid his body was as he held her against him.

The ship stopped rocking and he spun her around to face him, his eyes boring into hers. "Get to sick bay," he ordered.

"There's no medic here!" She pointed at the injured crewmen.

His eyes flickered to Abercrombie, then back to Alex. He nodded sharply and let her go. She made her way to Abercrombie and moved her hand from her forehead. The cut was wide, but not deep. The tail of Abercrombie's shirt was hanging loose, so Alex ripped off a piece of fabric and wadded it up, then pressed it to the wound, then settled Abercrombie back against a bulkhead and tilted her chin up. Abercrombie's pupils were the same size, though she was a little bleary-eyed. No concussion. Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion, probably from seeing Alex looking down at her in this context.

"You'll be fine," Alex told her, trying to mimic Dr. Henderson's calm tones. Alex took Abercrombie's hand and pressed it to the cloth at her forehead. "Hold that as tightly as you can. It'll stop the bleeding. Keep your head tilted back."

Abercrombie nodded slightly and complied.

"I've got to check on Lt. Tsu," Alex told her. Concern flickered in Abercrombie's eyes and she nodded again. Alex moved over to Tsu's still form. She reached out to check the pulse at the carotid artery, then saw the head wound. She heaved. Luckily, she hadn't eaten lunch yet and there was nothing to come back up. She reached out a shaking hand and checked his pulse. Nothing.

Looking around again, she saw that McQueen was at weapons control, trying to bring the system back on-line. Martinez was at navigation, Tsu's place, trying to punch buttons on the keyboard with fingers that were too burned to move. Ross stood above it all, glaring down at the mess on his bridge. Alex could see he was restraining himself. It wouldn't do him any good to bark orders until the systems were back on line.

"Weapons control, on-line," McQueen called out as the screen above him flickered to life, displaying a tactical readout. Alex gulped. She didn't like all those green lights that represented Chig fighters being so close to the Saratoga. At least there were a lot of red lights representing Hammerheads out there too. That made her feel better until she remembered that some of those red lights were the Wild Cards.

"I need to maneuver," Ross barked out. Alex could see he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth because Martinez doubled her efforts. Alex watched Martinez trying desperately to punch buttons.

It was so painful to watch, Alex didn't realize she was moving until she was at the navigation console and reached out to punch the button Martinez was trying to hit. Martinez stared at her for a moment, then pointed at the keyboard and dictated a short sequence of letters and numbers with slashes interspersed. Alex knew boot codes when she heard them and her fingers flew over the keyboard. Martinez's speed increased as she saw how fast Alex typed. Alex grabbed a chair and sat down, positioning her fingers properly and typed whatever came out of Martinez's mouth. After what seemed like forever, but was probably only a few seconds, Alex heard a distinctive beep and the screen lit up.

"Navigation on-line, Sir," Martinez called out.

"Back us out of here," Ross ordered.

Martinez leaned in and dictated again. Alex's fingers flew, seemingly hard-wired to the motion of Martinez's lips. Ross gave more orders and Alex obeyed via Martinez. The system got balky at one point and Ross demanded to know where his three degree turn was.

"Hold your horses," Alex muttered under her breath.

Martinez lowered her head next to Alex's ear. "He doesn't have to," she reminded Alex softly. "He's the Commodore."

Alex smothered a laugh. More trivialities.

A medic came over and looked down at the two of them. When he caught sight of Martinez's hands, he tried to lead her away from the console. "Leave her," Ross ordered.

Alex didn't know how long it had been when the orders finally stopped coming and the ship stopped rocking every few moments. Her world had narrowed to Martinez's voice and the need to type in everything Martinez said as fast as she could with absolute accuracy.

She sat waiting for the next input. Nothing came. A moment later, Martinez nudged her with an elbow. Alex looked up.

"Good work, Alex." Martinez grinned at her and Alex grinned back. Then she got her first real look at Martinez's hands and gasped.

"Maria! We've got to get those looked at."

She reached out and gently cradled her friend's hands, then looked around for the medic. He was standing by the door, out of the way. As soon as Alex's eyes met his, he headed toward them. Alex put an arm around Martinez's shoulders and headed her toward the door.

"Ms. Larson!"

"Commodore?" Alex turned, expecting a reprimand for being in the wrong place.

"You're welcome on my bridge anytime," Ross said.

Alex blushed and left with Martinez.

Alex walked into Tun Tavern later than usual that evening. Not that there had been anything usual about this day. She'd stayed with Martinez all afternoon in case she needed anything done for her. When Alex finally walked into the bar, the Wild Cards were already there.

"Hey, Alex," Hawkes called out. "How'd you like flying the ship?"

Alex blushed.

"Maybe we should see how you'd do in a Hammerhead," Damphousse suggested.

"Sure," Wang chimed in. "That's be easy compared to flying the 'Toga."

"All right," Alex said disgustedly. "All I did was type."

Shane came over and draped an arm across Alex's shoulders. "You did good," she said.

Alex blushed again. "How did you hear about it so quickly?"

"You kidding?" Wang asked. "A civilian takes over the ship and you think we wouldn't hear about it after six hours?"

"I did not take over the ship," Alex protested.

The Wild Cards laughed at her.

"That's enough," Shane said.

The Cards obeyed and left, each of them patting Alex on her shoulder or back before heading for the bar.

"It was Martinez's idea," Alex told Shane earnestly.

Shane laughed and leaned closer. "The Colonel says you did really good," she told Alex softly.

Alex blushed furiously. A shivery flush of pleasure went through her at the thought of Ty complimenting her and Shane gave her a knowing smile. Alex blushed again as she realized that Shane knew something that she, herself, had been trying to ignore for the past month or so.

"Ms. Larson." Ross' voice sounded loudly from the doorway.

"Commodore?"

"Front and center, Ms. Larson."

Alex gulped and looked at Shane wide-eyed. Shane grinned and shoved her forward, so Alex squared her shoulders and walked over to stand in front of Ross. She snuck a glance at McQueen who was standing behind the Commodore. His face was expressionless, but his eyes twinkled. Alex relaxed. Ty wouldn't look that way if this was going to be bad.

"Ms. Larson, you told me once that you were here because you thought that your contribution, however minor, might be useful to the war effort. Today, you showed that the contribution you have to make is anything but minor."

Alex blushed again, wondering if her face was just going to stay permanently red.

Ross continued. "You have shown me that the Civilian Program has more value than I originally thought, even after I agreed to let you stay. Although," he gave her a little smile, "I am of the opinion that your performance is far above the norm that we will see from this program."

Affirmative murmurs came from the Wild Cards.

"In commemoration of this event, we have prepared a small memento."

McQueen handed Ross a small piece of metal about six inches square. Alex looked closely and saw there was a deck rivet attached to it, and underneath, someone had engraved 'Honorary Rivet'. He handed the plaque to her and she looked at it in confusion.

"We couldn't find a horseshoe nail," he said with a grin.

Alex looked at Ross and burst out laughing.

"Ms. Larson," Ross said. "I believe I still owe you a drink."

He put his hand on her shoulder and steered her to the bar. Siverson grinned and set out a huge Strawberry Margarita. Ross indicated a bar stool and waited for Alex to sit, then sat on the stool beside her. Siverson set a glass of Scotch in front of him, winked at Alex and left.

Alex set her plaque on the bar and pulled the Margarita to her. She took a sip and raised her eyebrows. It was good, really good. Strong, also, which made her a little uncomfortable. If she drank the whole thing, she'd be pretty tipsy by the time she finished. Especially since she hadn't had lunch or dinner today.

"Something wrong, Alex?" Ross asked softly.

Alex blushed yet again. She hated to seem ungrateful. "I don't drink well," she admitted. "Especially not on an empty stomach."

Ross looked around. "Wild Cards!"

The 58th snapped to attention. "Sir!"

"Your mascot hasn't eaten yet."

"I'm too old to be a mascot," Alex muttered.

Shane looked at the Cards, then snapped out an order. "Damphousse, Hawkes. Execute a hard-target raid on the galley. One cheeseburger. Mustard, no mayo. French fries. Five mikes. Move out."

Hawkes and 'Phousse grinned and left as Alex nearly fell off her stool laughing. When she'd gotten hold of herself, she looked across the room and saw Ty leaning on the wall. Catching his eye, she patted the empty stool next to her. He pushed off the wall and headed across the room. She spun herself back around to face the bar as he slid onto the stool. Siverson smiled and set another glass of Scotch in front of him. Alex took another sip of the Margarita and Ross gave her an amused look.

"At that rate, it'll take you hours to finish that," he said.

"It took her an hour to drink one Amaretto Sour," McQueen told him.

Alex giggled and took another sip. She felt better with Ty next to her. She liked Ross and wouldn't have minded drinking a glass of wine with him around. With this huge amount of alcohol, though, she preferred Ty or Shane to be nearby. She just didn't trust herself to drink too much. Never had. Not since she'd screwed up royally in college. She trusted Ty and Shane, though. Neither of them would let anything happen to her.

"An Amaretto Sour?" Ross shook his head. "That's not even a real drink."

"The way she nursed it, you'd have thought it was straight Everclear," McQueen said.

Alex sipped her margarita and listened with half an ear as Ross and McQueen moved from making fun of her to telling tales about other bad drinkers they'd known. While they talked, Alex thought about her feelings for Ty. She trusted him. Of course, to a certain extent, she'd trusted him since the first day she'd boarded the Saratoga. There was just something about him that made her feel safe. She'd known that he didn't want her or any of the civilians on board, but somehow, she could still tell that he'd do everything in his power to protect them. Even before he'd really become a friend, she knew he wouldn't let anything happen to her. Which was probably why she'd sought him out that second evening when she'd been overwhelmed by all the attention she was getting.

A hand touched her shoulder and she looked behind her. 'Phousse smiled and slid a plate in front of her. The cheeseburger was fresh off the grille and her stomach growled. The French fries were crisp and very hot.

"Where's the ketchup?" Alex asked with mock indignation.

Hawkes leaned over her other shoulder and set a bottle beside the plate. Alex laughed.

"Good job, Five Eight," Ross said.

"They can scrounge a meal with the best of them," McQueen said.

"Thank you," Alex called over her shoulder. She picked up the burger and took a big bite, making a little noise of pleasure deep in her throat.

Ross chuckled. "Do you always do that when you eat?"

Alex swallowed. "Not when I eat glop."

Ross glanced past her to McQueen. "The more interesting question, though, would be what does she make that noise for other than food?" Ross commented.

Alex's eyes widened and she ducked her head to hide another blush.

Ross chuckled. "There's your answer."

"All right," Alex said around another mouthful of cheeseburger. "I was gonna share my French fries, but not if you're gonna behave like that."

McQueen chuckled along with Ross this time. "Hit a nerve," he suggested.

"We could talk about the blushing now," Ross suggested.

"That's it." Alex stood and picked up her plate, her ketchup, her margarita and her plaque. "I'm gonna go sit with Shane," she announced with a toss of her head.

They laughed at her as she walked away. Shane and Hawkes made room for her at the table where the 58th were gathered.

"Problem?" Shane asked.

"They were ganging up on me," Alex said huffily.

Shane leaned close. "I asked if there was a problem," she said softly.

"Shane!" Alex gave her slightly surprised look.

Shane chuckled. "I could think of worse things then having those two 'gang up' on me."

"Shane!!" Alex stared at her, slightly shocked this time. "I thought you weren't supposed to think about your superior officers like that."

"Thinking's not a crime. Besides, they're not *your* superior officers."

Shane smiled wickedly and Alex's lips crept up in an equally wicked smile. Then she giggled. She was definitely a little tipsy.

Shane pointed at Alex's plate. "Eat," she said firmly.

"Yes ma'am," Alex replied, picking up the burger again.

McQueen kept his eye on Alex. He could tell she was getting a little drunk. Vansen and Hawkes were watching out for her too.

So far, two Captains and a Major had tried to introduce themselves to her. Apparently, they'd heard about what happened on the bridge today and wanted to meet her. They didn't get very far with the entire 58th running interference.

Any other night, the Wild Cards would have let her make her own decisions, at least until someone got out of line. But with that Margarita glass sitting in front of her three quarters empty, they were all feeling a little protective. Not to mention the fact that their 'mascot' was suddenly someone that everyone wanted to know. She was their property. Sitting between Vansen and Hawkes, though, Alex wouldn't be bothered. Nor would she be allowed to do anything foolish because of the alcohol.

McQueen took a sip of Scotch and smiled to himself, remembering the conversation that had driven Alex over to the 58th's table. Apparently, there were some forms of teasing that Alex didn't handle well. He started wondering about what Ross had asked. What else would elicit that little noise she'd made before?

His eyes widened as he realized what he was thinking, and he turned back to the bar. Alex Larson was a friend. She trusted him. She was also a Natural Born woman. He shouldn't be thinking about her this way. He took a sip of Scotch.

If he was going to be honest with himself, he had to admit that he thought about her more than he should. She was an intelligent, attractive woman who looked at him like a man, not a Tank. She sought out his company most of the time, not the other way around. She seemed to prefer him to anyone else, with the possible exception of Vansen. Certainly, there weren't any other men she spent time with. He finished the drink and nodded when Siverson offered a refill.

The last thing he needed was to get hit between the eyes again. He took a sip from his refill.

Alex was a friend. Period. Leave it at that. Anything else he might think or feel about her, he'd keep to himself.

He turned around again and looked over at the 58th. Alex had curled her legs up in the chair. Her head was resting on Hawkes shoulder and her eyes were closed. Hawkes was leaning on the table, being careful not to let his movements disturb Alex. McQueen smiled. Alex must not have been exaggerating when she said she'd fall asleep if she drank too much.

Tipping his head back, he downed the Scotch, then walked over to the 58th. Vansen looked at Alex, then back at him with a grin.

"Maybe we should put her to bed," Vansen suggested.

"I'm not asleep," Alex said without opening her eyes.

"You should be," McQueen said.

Alex opened her eyes and looked at him. "Are you gonna behave yourself now?"

"I always behave myself."

"But not always well."

"That's a matter of opinion."

"Do you want to hear my opinion?"

"Not tonight," he said.

"Coward," she said.

She sat up and stretched. "You're right. I should go to bed before I fall asleep here. Although you have a very comfortable shoulder." The last was to Hawkes, who grinned at her. She stood up and wobbled a bit.

"Whoa," Vansen said. "I think someone better go with you. Just let me finish this hand."

"I'll be fine," Alex said. "I'm not that drunk."

Vansen glanced at McQueen, then looked at her hand and sighed as she moved to put it down.

McQueen grinned. "I'll take care of it, Captain."

"Thanks, Colonel," Vansen said. She flipped her cards so he could see two Aces. He kept his face blank, but his eyes twinkled at her.

Alex walked around the table, seeming perfectly capable of walking a straight line. "I am not an 'it'," she said huffily.

"No, you're not." McQueen tried to keep his voice level.

She shot him an unreadable glance and walked toward the door. "You don't have to put me to bed. I'm a grown woman. I can get there all by myself."

McQueen recognized the tones and phrasing of someone who wasn't totally drunk, but wasn't as sober as they thought they were. "I'll just follow along and make sure, if you don't mind."

"What if I do mind?"

"I'll follow along anyway."

She gave him a disgusted look. "I can take care of myself, thank you."

Her voice was more firm now. She obviously didn't want him to walk her to her quarters. He considered letting her go by herself, when she stumbled slightly. He put his hand on her arm to balance her and she pulled away angrily. They got onto the elevator and rode in silence. She didn't look at him. Maybe he should have let Vansen fold. Alex probably would have accepted her help. They reached her quarters and she began to punch in the door code. He turned his eyes away politely.

"Oh for Heaven's sake, Ty. You already know my door code."

He smothered a grin. He did actually. He'd seen her punch it in more than once. He just hadn't thought she knew he knew.

"Aren't you going to tuck me in?" she asked sarcastically as she opened the door.

She walked into her quarters and turned back to face him. He stuck his head inside and looked at her. Her mood really had turned foul. Maybe she was a nasty drunk.

She stared at him for a moment, then sighed and put her hands to her head. "I'm being a real bitch, aren't I?"

"Pretty much."

A smile tugged at her mouth. "Thanks for the honesty." She sighed again and rubbed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Ty. I think I had too much to drink."

He stepped into the room and walked over to her. "Headache?"

She nodded.

He went into the bathroom and dug around until he found some aspirin. He found a glass and put some water in it, then took them out to her.

"Here."

She opened her eyes and looked down. "You're too good to me."

She put the aspirin in her mouth and washed them down with a swallow of water. He took the glass out of her hand and put it back in the bathroom.

"Where's Pellowski?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh." He grinned. "Maybe I should send Vansen or Damphousse to stay with you."

"Stay with me!" Her look was completely disbelieving. "What is wrong with you tonight, Ty? You're acting like I'm made of china or something."

He looked away.

She sighed again and walked over to him, putting her hand on his arm. "Ty, I'm fine. I've been drunk before. I'm not going to fall apart."

He looked back at her and she smiled. "Of course, if you're really worried about me, you can stay with me yourself," she said mischievously. "Weren't you going to tuck me in?"

Her look was teasing and he was surprised at how angry her offhand comment made him. She wasn't a mean drunk, she was an honest one. She obviously thought he was just a harmless Tank. Or maybe she thought he was too well-trained to put his hands on a Natural Born woman. She didn't see a man when she looked at him at all or she wouldn't have made a suggestion like that. He was tempted to show her how much of a man he really was.

He realized what he was thinking just before his hands started to move toward her. He must have had too much to drink himself.

"I think you can tuck yourself in, Ms. Larson," he said coldly, then spun on his heel and left the room.

© 1998 Tere L. Matthews