Moments of Joy

Part Four

Alex stared at the open door. She hadn't meant to say that. It just slipped out. He must have thought she was serious. She wasn't. She didn't mean it. She thought he'd take it the same way Paul or Nathan would have, like a joke.

But you did mean it, the little voice inside told her. It was something you've wanted to ask him.

Not like that, she told herself. Not like it was just a casual thing. Like it had no meaning for her.

She slowly walked over and shut the door. She'd ruined it. Now she was sure he would never talk to her again, not really *talk*. Not after that. He thought she was just like all the others, trying to use him for sex. He would always be waiting for her to insult him again.

Alex sat down on the bed and started to cry. She should have known better. She knew he wasn't interested in her, not romantically. She always did something stupid when she drank.

She curled up on the bed and cried harder. Her head was pounding now from the alcohol and the crying and she couldn't think. She cried until she finally drifted off to sleep.

Alex woke in the middle of the night, pulse pounding and head aching. She'd had awful dreams where Ty had Lt. Tsu's head injury and Major Hastings sat and laughed as she tried desperately to type the injury back together.

She thought about Ty and how she'd offended him. She didn't know how to make it up to him. Maybe she should apologize tomorrow.

The idea made her blush furiously. He was such a proud man. Even if he accepted the apology, things would never be the same between them.

She pulled her grandmother's afghan from the foot of her bed and wrapped it around her, realizing she didn't feel safe anymore. She'd seen the wounded in the sick bay the last time they were attacked, but somehow, seeing Lt. Tsu dead on the bridge made it all more real than it had seemed before.

She laughed a little hysterically. What were you expecting? she asked herself. This is a war.

She wrapped the blanket tighter around her, trying reclaim the secure feeling it had given her when she was a child. She’d had that same secure feeling whenever she was around Ty. It was totally irrational, she knew that. He couldn’t protect her from Chigs and AIs and all the nasty things that were out in the universe. Something about him, though had made her *feel* as though he could, and that was enough.

Now she'd offended him. She felt like a little girl again, like she'd always felt when someone she cared about - someone she loved, she admitted to herself slowly - was angry with her. This time, maybe her childhood fear that the angry one wouldn't love her anymore would come true.

She sighed. She'd learned how to feel safe by herself as she grew older. Everyone did. Coming out here had frightened her more than she'd realized. Ty made her feel safe and she'd let herself depend on him. Now, she needed to find a way to depend on herself again.

Shane knew something was wrong. She didn't know what, but something was definitely wrong between Alex and Colonel McQueen.

Last night, McQueen had left to take a tipsy Alex back to her quarters. This morning at breakfast, they wouldn't even look at each other. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out they'd had a fight or something.

Shane sighed to herself. It was her own fault. She'd hoped that when Alex was drunk, she might make a pass. It was obvious that Alex was in love with McQueen. Shane was pretty sure that McQueen felt very strongly about Alex. Unfortunately, it looked like her plan had backfired.

She didn't have time to figure out what had happened right now, either. The 58th had to go out after the Chigs who'd attacked yesterday. The Saratoga was in no condition to fight them off if they returned, so four squads were being sent out in separate directions on search and destroy missions.

Hopefully, Alex and McQueen would work it out before the 58th got back. If not, Shane would drag it out of Alex when she returned, and the two of them would figure out how to fix it.

The next morning, after the Wild Cards left, Alex was walking down a back corridor, taking a short cut to the supply room. She needed more pens and paper. As she turned a corner, she heard someone hurrying up behind her and stepped to the side to get out of the way. She suddenly found herself shoved up against the wall.

Rough hands grabbed her and turned her around so her back was against the wall. Major Hastings stood in front of her. He wasn't alone.

"Ms. Larson, I thought we understood each other. You were doing so well. I was very pleased at the way you always had the 58th around so no one could get the wrong idea. And when they were off the Saratoga, you always made sure you were only seen in public places with Colonel McQueen."

He leaned closer. She searched his eyes for anger or some other emotion that would make sense to her, but found nothing. He was calm and collected.

"You were doing so well. Then Lt. Rundquist announced that you and Colonel McQueen were alone together in your quarters. And last night, you got drunk and took him to your quarters again. I'm very disappointed in you."

She looked at the two men with the Major and saw what she'd expected to see in Hastings. One of them - a tall, skinny blonde - had angry eyes. The other - a short, muscular man with dark hair - just looked mean. They were what she expected bigots to be like. Hastings made no sense.

He reached out and took her chin, turning her head so she was looking at him again. "Maybe you thought you were safe because the 58th was around to protect you. Well, where are they now?"

She didn't answer, just looked at him, trying to understand what he wanted.

"They can't protect you. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

She didn't respond.

"Answer me!"

"Yes," she said softly.

"Good. Now, you could tell Colonel McQueen about this, but we both know there's nothing he can do about it. Any action he takes will only get him into trouble. You don't want Colonel McQueen to get into trouble, do you?"

"No," she said as softly as she'd spoken before.

"Of course you don't. Neither do I. As I said, he's earned his rank and his place. But you're going to confuse him, and I can't allow that. You can see that, can't you?"

She just stared at him, hardly believing her ears.

"From now on, I think you need to be more careful. It might be better if you stayed away from Colonel McQueen altogether. It will be acceptable, however, if you simply return to your more cautious ways. My friends might not understand any other course of action. You don't want to confuse my friends, Ms. Larson."

The thought crossed Alex's mind that what he wanted should be easy, given that she and Ty weren't even speaking to each other right now.

"I don't want to have to do this again, Ms. Larson. It troubles me to have to speak to you this way. Please be more careful in the future."

He smiled slightly and walked away. The blonde followed him. The brunette gave her a nasty smile and shoved her once more, then followed Hastings.

Alex stood with her back to the wall, shaking. She could not believe this was happening. It was like something out of the 1960's, something out of a nightmare.

She wrapped her arms around herself and sank to the floor. Shane wasn't around. She was off on patrol. Alex couldn't tell Ty. Hastings was right about that. There was nothing Ty could do about this. She thought about it for a moment and realized that there was nothing Shane could do about it either. If she told Shane, she and 58th would just get themselves into trouble.

Alex looked up at the ceiling. She'd given Shane her word, but she was just going to have to break it. She couldn't let them get into trouble. She'd have to find a way to handle this herself.

Things were strained between the Alex and McQueen now. She hadn't gone to sit vigil with him last night like she normally did when the 58th were out. She needed to get his signature, though, so she went to the bridge with her clipboard.

"Colonel McQueen?" She could hear how tentative her voice sounded. That had to stop.

He turned and looked at her, his face expressionless. She tried not to blush, but it wasn't really something she could control.

"I need your signature, please."

She handed him the clipboard. He took it and ran his eyes down the form, then scrawled his name at the bottom and handed it back to her.

"Thank you, Colonel."

He turned his back and she returned to her office. She sat down and put her head in her hands. She didn't have to worry about Hastings. She doubted whether she and Ty would ever be sitting in Tun Tavern together again.

"Something wrong, Ms. Larson?"

She looked up and saw Commodore Ross standing in the doorway.

"No, Sir. Just tired."

Ross came in and stood looking down at her, studying her. "I think it's more than that, Alex."

She didn't say anything.

"Did you and Ty have a fight?"

She looked up, surprised into a blush. "Do you keep up with all your officers' personal lives, Commodore?"

"No, just my friends'."

She smiled a little sadly. "He's a good friend, isn't he?"

"One of the best. What did you two fight about?"

She sighed. "It wasn't a fight, really. I just managed to say something phenomenally stupid when I was drunk and totally offend him."

His eyes narrowed. "What did you say?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'd really rather not talk about it. I screwed up. End of story."

He didn't say anything. After a moment, she opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Have you tried apologizing?" he asked finally.

She shook her head. "I think that would just make it worse." It would, too. Anything she said would sound patronizing.

"This is really none of my business, Alex, but I will say this. Ty McQueen is a good man. You're the first real friend he's had in a long time. If you care about him, that friendship is worth fighting for." He flashed that tiny, lopsided smile and left.

She thought about it. Ross was right. That friendship was worth fighting for. She'd told Ty she was a good, loyal friend. Then she'd insulted him. It was up to her to find a way to set things straight.

Alex sat in Tun Tavern alone. No Wild Cards. No McQueen. Lizzie was supposed to meet her here.

"All alone, Alex?"

Alex didn't have to turn to identify Clarissa Carstairs irritating voice. "Go away, Clarissa. I'm not in the mood."

"Did you and your little Tank friend have a fight?"

Alex turned on the stool, a slow burn starting. Her gaze flickered past Clarissa and landed on Hastings. He and the angry young blonde were sitting at a table, watching her. There was someone she really wanted to focus her anger on.

She stood up and brushed past Clarissa. Hastings looked a little surprised as she bore down on him and sat in an empty chair without asking permission.

"What's your problem, anyway?" She spoke softly and intently. She'd hit that point of anger where the arguments came with perfect clarity. She didn't get here very often, but when she did, it was magic. "What do you have against In Vitros?"

Hastings took a sip of his drink. "They're not human."

"What are they, then?"

"They're animals."

"We're all animals."

"Yes, but we're thinking animals."

"Are you saying In Vitros don't think?"

"Of course they do. They just don't think the way we do."

"Meaning what?"

"Have you ever seen an In Vitro right out of the tank?" he asked.

"No."

He leaned forward. "They're primitive, primal. They act on every impulse, every instinct."

"Well of course they do. So do children."

He shook his head. "It's not the same. A child *can't* think until it grows older. They are physiologically incapable until they reach a certain stage of development. Once they have matured to the point of being able to think, they do."

"How is that different from an In Vitro?"

"In Vitros have the ability to think from the moment of birth, but they don't. They have to be taught to think and to reason."

"So do children."

"It's not the same."

"How is it different?" she persisted. He'd obviously thought about this. If she could just find a flaw in his argument and make him see it, maybe he'd leave her alone. Some part of her warned that the hope was futile, but she was angry enough not to care. Nothing else was working right now. What was one more failure?

He looked at her for a moment, then visibly switched tactics. "Do dogs reason?" he asked.

"Depends on the dog," she answered irreverently.

He smiled. "People are very fond of their pets. They often assign human characteristics to them."

"Anthropomorphizing," she supplied.

"Yes. They assume that their pets think like they do, feel like they do. They do the same with In Vitros. They assume that In Vitros think and feel as we do. It's more difficult to make a distinction because they look human."

"But they're not?" Alex knew that people were moving closer, listening to the conversation, but she didn't care.

"No."

She could tell he was completely sincere. He believed every word.

"They're not human," he continued. "They don't have souls - any more than domesticated animals do."

"Prove it."

He leaned back in his chair without answering. "You know I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?" the blonde demanded. "You know they're nothing but animals."

Alex leaned back and reassessed Hastings. "You can't prove a negative," she stated.

"The first law of argument," he responded.

She nodded. "So go the other way. Prove to me that you have a soul."

"I know that I have a soul, Ms. Larson. So do you."

"I know that we both have souls too, Major Hastings. But knowledge is not proof."

"Another law of argument. I see you've debated before."

She ignored that and focused on the point. "If you can't prove the negative *or* the positive, the argument is invalid."

"In a debate, perhaps. This is life."

"So, in the absence of proof, you act on your own convictions?"

"What else is there?"

"Reason. Which you say In Vitros don't have."

"Not the same way people do."

"So, not only are they not human, they're not people?"

"Is there a distinction?"

"You tell me. They're your words."

He considered for a moment. "There is no distinction between the two. Humans are People. They're the same."

"So, if In Vitros are human, then they're people?"

"They aren't."

"If?" she persisted.

He thought about it. "Humans are people."

"And people, by definition, have souls and the ability to reason?"

He nodded.

"So define Human in a way that excludes In Vitros."

He looked at her consideringly. "There are obvious physical differences."

She dismissed that. "They can still interbreed with Natural Borns."

"That is the danger." He leaned forward with a light in his eyes. "We're fooled by the genetic similarity."

"So you're saying the danger is actually when In Vitros and Natural Borns produce offspring. Are the children human?"

"That is the question." It obviously concerned him. "Are such children human? Would they have souls like their human parents, or be soulless like their In Vitro parents?"

"You tell me. I'm the one who believes that In Vitros do have souls."

Hastings shook his head. "You've been taken in by the fact that they appear human."

"Why do you think they don't have souls?"

"They don't," he said.

She tried another tactic. "When does the soul enter the human body?"

"At conception." His answer was definite and unhesitating.

"So, why couldn't a soul enter an In Vitro body at the moment of conception?"

"In Vitros aren't conceived. They're fertilized."

"Is it the manner of their creation which prohibits their having souls?"

"Yes. Conception is an act of God. Fertilization is an act of man. It is an offense against God."

"Says who?"

He didn't answer.

She looked at him skeptically. "Please don't tell me God talks to you."

He smiled. "No more than he talks to any of us."

She laughed. "All right, we'll table that issue. Why couldn't God choose to place a soul in a fertilized In Vitro body?"

Doubt flickered across his fact, but was swiftly gone. "He could. I don't believe that he does."

"We'll have to agree to disagree, then."

His eyes narrowed. "But that agreement only goes so far."

She nodded, meeting his eyes. "I see that. By the way, you realize, that you've answered your own question about the children?"

He looked startled.

"If it is conception rather than fertilization which determines whether a being has a soul, then children conceived normally by an In Vitro and a Natural Born must have souls."

He looked thoughtful, but didn't reply.

She stood up. "Thank you for an interesting conversation, Major. Unfortunately, we seem to be at the same place we were when I sat down."

"So it would seem, Ms. Larson. I enjoyed the conversation, though."

"I'm not sure I'd go that far," she said with a smile.

She turned around and was a little surprised at the number of people who'd been listening. She glanced at the bar and her heart gave a little thud when she saw Ty and Commodore Ross sitting there. They couldn't have missed hearing it from that distance. Her eyes met McQueen's and her face got hot. His eyes were hard.

"Ms. Larson," Ross called softly.

She walked over to him.

"Interesting conversation," he said.

"I thought so."

Her eyes flickered to McQueen's face. He looked angry. She sighed internally. Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut. Then her jaw tightened. She'd had conversations like that for years before she met him. Why should she stop now just because she had an In Vitro friend?

Ross looked from Alex to McQueen. "Let me buy you a drink, Ms. Larson."

"Thank you, but that's probably not a good idea, Commodore. I just don't handle my alcohol well."

A flicker of a smile crossed McQueen's face. "I'll vouch for that."

Alex flushed. Here was the perfect opening for an apology, but they weren't alone.

Being the smart man that he was, Ross picked up his drink and excused himself.

"Ty..." Alex started.

"That was an interesting performance. And it got you your little Tank friend back." Clarissa smirked at Alex and sauntered past.

Alex's jaw tightened and her eyes snapped up to meet McQueen's. "That is *not* why I had that conversation."

"I know that," he said softly.

She continued to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry I offended you. I always do stupid things when I drink."

One corner of his mouth tugged upwards. "I thought you just fell asleep."

"First I'm stupid. Then I sleep."

He chuckled. "Forget it."

She looked at him, studying his expression. That was a standard answer for him. It told her that he hadn't really forgiven her, didn't trust her anymore, wasn't willing to let her back in. She'd really hurt him.

She sighed. "No, I don't think I will. I can't forget causing so much pain to someone I care about. Good night, Colonel."

She left the bar, blinking back tears. She didn't think he'd want her to call him Ty anymore.

McQueen turned back to the bar and took a sip of Scotch. He considered going after Alex, but he was still angry. Especially after this latest scene with Major Hastings. What the hell did she think she was doing, having a conversation like that?

Ross sat down on the stool next to him. "Whatever she said or did, Ty, she was drunk at the time."

His anger got stronger. Now she was talking to Ross. Couldn't she keep her mouth shut? Obviously not, given what had happened in her quarters.

"She was honest," he told Ross.

"Do you think she's lying now?"

He was silent for a moment. "No."

"Has she ever lied to you?"

"Not that I know of."

"Then she's always been honest with you. Maybe she was just a little more honest when she was under the influence. Was it really honesty, though?"

McQueen didn't respond.

"Can you tell me that you've never said or done anything when you were angry or drunk that you regretted. I know you better than that, Ty. Haven't you ever said anything you would never have said, never have *meant* if you were sober?"

McQueen looked Ross in the eye. "With respect, Commodore, this is none of your business."

Ross snorted. "Ty, you are one stubborn Son of a Test Tube."

A smile tugged at McQueen's lips. "Yes, Sir. I am."

They were silent for a few moments.

"That's one Hell of a woman, Ty." When he didn't get a response, Ross shook his head and left.

McQueen was silent for a few more moments, then he spoke softly. "Yes, Sir. She is."

The 58th called in and said they were returning home. McQueen stood on the flight deck, waiting for the first glimpse of his 'kids'. The door opened behind him. He didn't turn. He knew it would be her.

Alex walked up to the viewport and stopped. She left considerably more distance between them then she usually did. She didn't speak.

They waited. He caught sight of them and pointed, as he always did. "There."

She sighed in relief. "Thank you, Colonel," she said softly, then turned to go.

"You're welcome," he said.

She paused with her hand on the door latch, then left.

Shane was exhausted. It had been a hard mission, but she'd brought the Wild Cards back safely. All of them.

She looked around the hanger deck. McQueen was there, as always. Alex wasn't, but that wasn't unusual. She didn't always come down to meet them. Of course, it could also mean that she and McQueen hadn't patched up whatever it was that was wrong between them.

"Hey, where's our mascot?" Wang asked.

Something flickered across McQueen's face too fast for Shane to identify.

"Working, I assume," he replied.

Hawkes shot a look at McQueen, then over at Shane. He'd also noticed the problem before the 58th left two days ago.

McQueen took a stance in front of the Cards that indicated he had orders to impart. Everyone pulled in and listened.

"Twenty-four hours to rest. Then you go out again."

Damphousse and Wang groaned.

"Knock it off," Shane ordered. "Hit the showers, then get some sleep."

McQueen stopped her as she started to follow the Cards off the deck. "Any problems out there?" he asked.

"No, Sir. Shake and Bake."

He nodded.

"Any problems back here?" she asked.

He met her eyes steadily. "Repairs are mostly complete. The Saratoga is almost up to speed."

"I wasn't asking about the 'Toga, Sir."

He looked at her a moment. "Hit the showers, Captain."

"Yes, Sir."

A shower and a two hour nap made Shane feel a lot better. Hawkes was awake, but West, Wang and Damphousse were still asleep.

"Food?" Shane asked Hawkes quietly.

He nodded and they headed for the mess hall. They ate in comfortable silence. Hawkes finished first and watched Shane eat. A few minutes later, she pushed her tray aside and sighed.

"Even glop tastes good after two days of freeze-dried rations," she said.

Hawkes nodded in agreement. "What'd McQueen say?" he asked.

Shane knew what he meant. "Nothing. Basically he told me to mind my own business."

"It is our business."

"No, it's not."

"They're our friends." Hawkes' face was set.

Shane wondered if there was a stubbornness gene in all In Vitros. Hawkes and McQueen were two of the worst she'd ever met. When they dug in, you couldn't pry them loose with a K-bar.

"Colonel McQueen isn't our friend. He's our Commanding Officer."

Hawkes didn't argue the point, but his face got more stubborn. "Alex is our friend."

"Yes, but it's still none of our business unless she wants it to be."

"So, what're we gonna do?"

Shane shrugged. "I'll talk to her tonight and see what's up."

"Vansen. Hawkes. Welcome back." Shane and Hawkes looked up and saw Lt. Martinez. Shane stood and took the tray out of Martinez's bandaged hands.

"Sit down," Shane offered.

Martinez sat. "Thanks. Have you heard about Alex and Hastings yet?"

Shane and Hawkes exchanged glances. "No," Shane said casually. "What's the scoop?"

Martinez told them the story of the conversation Alex and Hastings had about In Vitros in Tun Tavern. Shane nearly laughed at how wide Hawkes' eyes got as Martinez related certain points of that argument.

Shane shook her head. Alex always surprised her. Confronting Hastings with no one around to watch her six was pretty gutsy. Stupid, but gutsy.

"What did McQueen do?" Hawkes asked after Martinez finished.

Martinez shrugged. "He and Ross were there. He just watched, though. Did they have a fight or something?"

"Who?" Shane knew perfectly well who Martinez meant.

"Alex and McQueen. She's calling him 'Colonel' again."

Shane was surprised it had gotten that bad. Still, she wasn't going to let Martinez see how much it bothered her. Martinez and Alex were friends, but if Alex hadn't told Martinez what was going on, Shane sure wasn't going to. Beside, Shane didn't even know what was going on yet herself.

She looked at Martinez and shrugged. "Maybe she’s just feeling particularly formal right now."

Martinez sent Shane a disbelieving look, but didn’t comment.

"Anything else interesting happen while we were gone?" Shane asked.

Martinez shook her head. "Not unless you want to hear about Zimmerman and Saunders reversing the disposal on the fifth level."

Hawkes and Shane laughed. "I think that’s all I want to know about that," Shane said.

They waited until Martinez finished her food, then Shane picked up the trays. "Thanks," Martinez said with a wave.

Shane nodded and dumped the trays on her way out the door. Hawkes followed.

"Well," he prompted. "What're we gonna do?"

"I'm going to talk to Alex."

Hawkes got that stubborn look again.

"Fine," Shane said, before he could argue with her. "You come along. But if I tell you to go, you go."

"Why?"

"Because Alex might tell me something she wouldn't tell you."

"Why?"

Shane suppressed a sigh. "Because I'm a woman."

"Oh. Okay."

They went to Alex's quarters and knocked. Lizzie opened the door with a sheet wrapped around her.

"Hi, Vansen. Hawkes."

"Hey, Lizzie. I take it Alex isn't here?" Shane looked significantly at the sheet Lizzie was wearing.

Lizzie giggled. "I guess she's in the Tavern."

"Thanks."

"No problem. Stop by anytime." Lizzie winked at Hawkes. "Especially you."

Hawkes grinned at her and Shane ducked her head to hide a smile. Lizzie must have gotten over her 'Tank-shyness'.

"Well?" Shane asked Hawkes.

"Well, what?"

"Are you gonna take her up on her invitation?"

"Maybe," Hawkes said with a grin.

Shane grinned back.

They walked into the Tavern and spotted Alex sitting by herself at the bar. She saw them come in and met them halfway with a broad smile. She put her hand on Shane's' arm, then pulled Hawkes head down and kissed him on the cheek.

"Welcome back," she said.

"Thanks," Shane answered. "Unfortunately, we're not staying long."

Concern flickered over Alex's face as it always did when the 58th were going out. Then she smiled brightly. "Well, you're here now." She got between them and linked her arms through theirs, steering them to an empty table.

"So," Shane asked after Siverson set drinks in front of them. "What's up with Hastings?"

Alex grinned. "You know, the communication network on this ship is amazing."

Shane grinned back. "Nothing travels faster than gossip. Is he bothering you again?"

"Yeah," Hawkes said. "How'd you get into that conversation with him anyway?"

Alex shrugged. "I was irritated. He got in my line of sight."

"Remind me to stay out of your way when you're in a bad mood," Shane said.

Alex grinned again. "Don't worry. I will."

Shane took a sip of her drink "So, what's up with you and the Colonel?"

Alex blushed and shrugged again, then looked down at the table. Shane looked over at Hawkes and jerked her head toward the door. Hawkes nodded and stood up.

"See you later, Alex."

Alex watched Hawkes leave, then looked at Shane and sighed. "Please don't give me the first degree, Shane."

"I just want to help, Alex."

"I know. You can't."

Shane took another sip. Alex wasn't usually that blunt. "Alex..." she began.

"Shane," Alex interrupted, putting her hand over Shane's. "I don't want to talk about it."

"All right. Are you two even talking to each other?"

"Sure. 'Please. Thank you. Excuse me, I need to get by.' We talk all the time."

"Look, Alex. If there's anything I can do..."

"I'll let you know. Now, how about a game of pool and some Patsy Cline?"

Cooper walked down the corridor to Alex's quarters and knocked on the door. He knew Lizzie was in Tun Tavern. Shane was asleep in the 58th's quarters. She'd told him that Alex wouldn't tell her what was wrong.

Alex opened the door and smiled at him. "Hello, Sweetie."

"Can I come in?"

"Of course." She opened the door wider, then closed it after he came through.

She looked at him for a moment, then stepped closer and put her arms around his neck and hugged him. He hugged her back, closing his eyes and enjoying the feel of her pressed against him. It wasn't just that she was a woman. He liked feeling another person touch him. People didn't really touch Tanks very often. Except for Alex.

"Why'd you do that?" he asked when she let him go.

"I needed a hug. I didn't think you'd mind."

"I didn't. You can have a hug whenever you want."

"Thank you, Sweetie. So can you."

He filed that offer away, wondering if she meant it or if she was just being polite like Natural Borns did sometimes. He figured she meant it, but maybe he should check with Shane.

"What can I do for you, Sweetie?"

"How come you and Colonel McQueen aren't talking to each other?"

She gave him a funny look. "Shane already asked me that."

"You didn't tell her."

Alex sighed. "I said something when I was drunk that really offended him. I don't think he's going to forgive me." She smiled sadly. "He's not the forgiving type."

"What did you say?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does. Maybe I can tell you how to make him feel better."

She smiled at him. "What makes you think that?"

He shrugged. "We're both Tanks. In Vitros," he corrected himself.

She thought about that for a second. "I just..." She sighed again and looked at him. "He kept acting like I was going to break or something that night when I was drunk. He even suggested that he should go get Shane to spend the night with me, so I told him if he was really worried, he should stay with me himself. Then I asked if he wanted to tuck me into bed."

She closed her eyes. "I was trying to make a joke, but he took me seriously. He must have thought I was trying to use him like other women do, that I just wanted to get him in bed or something."

Cooper frowned. That didn't make sense. McQueen wouldn't have gotten mad if Alex had tried to get him in bed. He'd probably turn her down - which made no sense to Cooper - but he wouldn't have gotten mad.

"That's it?" he asked. "That's all that happened?"

She nodded.

He frowned. "I don't get it."

She laughed softly. "Don't worry about it, Sweetie."

"I am worried about it."

She walked over to him and put her hand to his cheek. "I know. Try not to."

She looked so sad, he put his arms around her and pulled her against him again. She sighed and put her head on his shoulder. He wished she'd let him take her to bed. He knew he could make her feel better.

Why did Natural Borns have to complicate everything? And why did McQueen have to act like they did? He should know better.

McQueen was crouched down beside the cockpit of West's Hammerhead. Nathan had mentioned that the seal light came on a couple of times during their last mission. The flight crew was supposed to check it, but McQueen was looking anyway - just to be sure. From the drop area below, the sound of the flight crew talking drifted up.

"...and check that seal carefully. Lt. West had some trouble with it. Then we'll change the air tank," a voice said.

"Speaking of 'changing Tanks', did you hear the latest about Alex Larson?"

McQueen went completely still.

"No. What now?" the first voice asked.

"Well, Boojee went back to Larson's quarters with her roommate, Pellowski."

"Man, that broad gets around."

"Yeah. Well, anyway, when they opened the door, Larson had a Tank in her room, but it wasn't McQueen."

"Hah! Maybe what they say about Tanks is true," the first voice said.

"Don't you believe it. She's just taking a walk on the wild side. She'll get tired of smooth stomachs and lumpy necks soon enough."

"Maybe. Hey, look at this. There's a little nick in the seal."

McQueen stood up and left the hanger. They'd found West's seal problem. He didn't need to be here any longer.

"Hey, West."

Nathan turned and looked at Neuberger. 82nd squad. A loudmouthed, hotshot whose transfer request to the 58th had been turned down twice. Nathan just stood, waiting.

"Sorry I didn't make it into the 58th," Neuberger said with a broad grin. "I hear that 'mascot' of yours is working her way down through the ranks."

"What do you mean?" Nathan asked.

"She hasn't gotten to you, yet? Maybe she just likes Tanks."

Nathan still didn't know what Neuberger was talking about, but he was pretty sure he wasn't going to like it. He got up close, copying McQueen's style, and stuck his face right up Neuberger's nose.

"I still don't know what you're talking about," he said.

Neuberger's grin got a little nervous, but he forged ahead anyway. "I heard Hawkes was the one in her quarters last night, not McQueen. Thought maybe the Colonel loaned her out as a reward or someth..."

West grabbed Neuberger's shirt with both hands and shoved him against the wall. "Don't talk about her like that."

Neuberger raised his hands. "Sorry, West. Didn't know you were so touchy about it. I guess you've all gotten real close to your 'mascot'. I always thought Vansen might be..."

West stopped the rest of the sentence with a solid punch to Neuberger's jaw.

"Hey! Cut it out!" One of Neuberger's squad mates grabbed Nathan from behind and Neuberger took the chance to land one in Nathan's stomach. Nathan doubled over, then the other guy was pulled off him.

"Right behind you, Buddy." Wang's voice sounded close and Nathan straightened as the 82nd and 58th turned it into an all-out brawl. A few minutes and several bruises later, McQueen's voice rang through the room.

"Break it up! Now! That's an order, Marines!"

People broke slowly from violent embraces and pulled themselves to attention. McQueen paced in front of them all, his eyes blazing. He stopped, legs spread, fists planted on his hips.

"I'm not going to ask who started this, because right now, I don't care. 58th, you're flying a mission in three hours, broken bones or no broken bones. 82nd." He gave them a disgusted look. "Find another form of recreation."

The 82nd trickled out of the mess hall, muttering. West glared at Neuberger, who cast a look at Shane, then smirked.

"Simmer down, West." McQueen put a restraining hand on Nathan's shoulder and looked after the retreating Neuberger. "What's this all about?"

Nathan looked into McQueen's eyes, then looked away. "Nothing."

"What, you were just in the mood to pick a fight?"

Nathan didn't answer. McQueen looked at him a moment longer. "Just remember, West, 'nothing' isn't worth fighting over. Dismissed."

Nathan stepped back and walked away. The rest of the 58th followed.

"Nathan!" Shane grabbed his arm and stopped him. "What the hell was that about?"

Nathan looked around and spotted Hawkes. "What were you doing in Alex's quarters last night?"

"Nothing," Hawkes said. "We were just talking."

Nathan knew it was the truth. Hawkes was a lousy liar. For some reason, that honest 'nothing' irritated him even more.

"What were you talking about?" Shane asked Hawkes.

Before he could answer, Nathan shoved a finger in his chest. "If you were just talking, you should have done it somewhere else. It's all over the ship."

"Shit," Shane said. "Let me guess. They said she'd moved from one Tank to the other."

"Among other things." Nathan continued to glare at Hawkes, who glared right back.

"Hastings is gonna love that," Damphousse commented.

"Yeah. And we're shipping out in three hours," Nathan reminded them.

They all stood silently for a moment.

"Maybe we should tell the Colonel," Damphousse suggested.

"We gave our word," Shane said.

"Hastings hasn't bothered her in three and a half months," Wang said.

"True," Shane agreed. "And there were all those rumors Rundquist started. Nothing happened then."

"That we know of," Nathan interjected.

"Alex would have told us," Damphousse said.

"Would she?" Nathan asked.

"We have a deal," Shane reminded him.

"How do we know she's keeping her end of it?" Nathan asked.

"Why wouldn't she?" Hawkes asked.

"Because she doesn't want us to get into trouble," Nathan answered. "She said so herself. She knows that the only thing we could do is tell the Colonel, and she doesn't want him to get into trouble either."

They were silent again.

"Alex is smart," Shane said finally. "She knows she can't handle Hastings by herself."

"Yeah," Damphousse agreed. "Trouble is, she's gonna be by herself for the next 52 hours. There won't be anyone here to watch her six."

"How about Martinez?" Wang suggested.

"She'd tell the Commodore," Shane answered.

"So?" Wang said. "Maybe that's not such a bad idea."

"Yeah," Damphousse agreed. "The Colonel wouldn't get into any trouble, then."

"We should tell Colonel McQueen if we're going to tell anyone," Hawkes stated.

"Maybe we're over-reacting," Damphousse said. "Hastings has never really done anything to her."

"He threatened her," Shane said.

"Barely. And he's never carried through with that threat," Damphousse replied. "Look, all I'm saying is we don't know for sure that Hastings is dangerous."

"Do you want to take that chance when we're not going to be here to do anything about it?" Shane demanded.

Damphousse looked down. "No."

"So, we're agreed. We tell Colonel McQueen before we go." Shane looked around. Everyone nodded. She started walking again and the Cards followed her.

"Man, he's gonna be pissed," Wang muttered.

McQueen was livid. He could not believe what he was hearing. Alex was being harassed simply because she was his friend? The 58th knew about it and hadn't told him?!?

He spoke around clenched teeth. "What else?"

"That's all, Sir."

Vansen, as always, was the spokesman. She stood in front of the other four, all of them in 'At Ease' position, shoulders back, hands clasped behind their butts.

McQueen was silent for a moment. "I assume that's why one of you was always hanging around when Alex and I were talking?"

"Yes, Sir. We thought that Major Hastings wouldn't bother her if she wasn't alone with you, Sir."

"So you appointed yourselves as chaperones?"

"Actually," Wang offered, "we called it baby-sitting."

McQueen glared at him. Wang snapped his mouth shut and stared at the wall. McQueen simmered, trying to control his temper.

"Sir," Vansen said. "We don't know that Major Hastings would ever really do anything to her..."

"...we just didn't want to take a chance," Damphousse finished.

"Especially with the new rumors floating around," West said.

McQueen's eyes snapped to West. "Is that what started today's fight?"

West nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me about this three months ago?" McQueen demanded.

"Sir. We promised Alex we wouldn't," Vansen answered.

"Why?"

Vansen was silent.

"Alex thought you might do something stupid. Sir." Hawkes met his eyes without flinching.

McQueen got in his face. "Define 'stupid', Lieutenant."

"She thought you'd confront Hastings and get thrown in the brig," Vansen answered.

"I take it you agreed with her?" McQueen asked.

"Sir. The Captain recognized the possibility that the Colonel might choose to take independent action, Sir."

McQueen glared at Vansen. Unfortunately, she was right. He just might have done that. The idea was still tempting.

"Sir. The Captain trusts that the Colonel will take no action that would make her regret giving the Colonel this information, Sir."

McQueen's eyes narrowed. "Exactly what *are* you expecting me to do with this information?"

"Keep an eye on Alex," Hawkes said.

"There's no one else we trust to watch her six," Damphousse said.

"At least until we get back," Wang said. "Then we'll figure something else out."

McQueen softened a little, but didn't show it. They were good kids. They were just acting stupid. "You're out of it from now on," he told them.

"Sir..." Vansen protested.

"Out of it, Captain. Civilian contractors are specifically protected from harassment of all kinds."

"What good will that do if she actually gets hurt?" Hawkes asked softly.

"She won't."

The Wild Cards relaxed at that flat statement. It was a fact. He knew it. They knew it. Nothing would happen to Alex Larson on his watch.

© 1998 Tere L. Matthews