Moments of Joy

Part Five

Alex was down on deck two trying to finish updating the Biographical Information forms for all 15,000 crew members stationed on board the Saratoga. This was the military, so all the forms had been returned by deadline. Not all of them were complete, however, so she was looking for a few specific crew members down here. It was easier to find them during their duty shifts.

She looked down at the clipboard in her hands, shuffling papers when someone grabbed her from behind and shoved her against the wall. Her right arm was twisted behind her back and she let out a yelp of pain.

"Don't break her arm," a voice said. "Not this time, anyway."

She didn't recognize the voice. It wasn't Hastings or his blonde friend. She tried to turn her head, but a hand grabbed her hair.

"Eyes front, Bitch," a second voice said from directly behind her.

A hard, male body pressed against her back - hard in all meanings of the word. She felt hot breath on her neck and shuddered. A hand came around her body and felt her breasts, then grabbed one, squeezing until she cried out.

"I hear you like Tanks," the man holding her said. "Maybe you need to see what a real man can do for you."

His hand moved down and rubbed painfully between her legs, then grabbed at the juncture where her thigh met her hip and pulled her backwards. The hardness ground against her backside.

"You should try some of this, Bitch. If you don't straighten up, you will."

The hand let go of her hip and moved up to her face, covering her eyes. She was pulled away from the wall and a second male body pressed against her from the front. He didn't even bother to pin her free hand when she tried to push him away.

His hands made a quick exploration of her body. "Nice," the first voice said. "You shouldn't be wasting this on Tanks."

The man in front pressed more firmly against her, grinding his hips against her. A mouth came down on hers and she nearly gagged as a tongue thrust roughly between her lips. The mouth left hers and moved down to her ear.

"You've had your fun, Bitch. You did both Tanks, had a good time. Now it's over. Next time we pay you a visit, we won't be so nice."

A hand shoved her collar aside and the mouth moved to her neck, biting and sucking, marking her. The hands roamed her body again, roughly brutalizing her most sensitive parts. She whimpered in pain and fear and both men laughed at the sound.

"Remember," the man in front said, then his body was no longer pressing against her. She heard steps moving away and she was shoved to the floor.

She fell hard, unable to catch herself with her right arm. She looked over her shoulder, but there was no one in sight. She pushed herself to her knees and tried to stand, but her legs trembled and wouldn't hold her. She sat down on the floor and looked around. The forms were scattered everywhere. Reaching out a shaking hand, she gathered them together and made a stack on the floor.

A drop of water landed on the top form. She looked at it blankly. A second landed beside the first and she realized she was crying. She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, then wiped the tears off her cheeks.

Gathering the forms in her hands, she forced her legs to support her as she stood. She looked around, fearfully. She didn't know who they were. She hadn't seen their faces. She would recognize their voices, though. Those she would never forget.

She didn't feel safe out here in the hall, but her quarters locked. Lizzie was careful not to let anyone see the door code. Other than Lizzie and herself, Ty was the only person who could get in.

By the time Alex reached the elevator, she was practically running.

Her wrist hurt. There would be a bruise. The mark on her neck was already beginning to purple. A livid mark the size of her palm covered her left breast and she ached between her legs.

She looked at herself in the mirror, trying to figure out what to do. She'd been attacked. Actually, physically assaulted. Sexually assaulted.

Her mind wasn't working. She couldn't think. The lucid thought crossed her mind that she was in shock.

What should she do? She hadn't seen their faces. She didn't know who they were. Shane and the 58th had left yesterday evening. They wouldn't be back for more than twenty-four hours. She could tell Ty, but what could he do? He'd be furious.

He's already furious. He's angry with you, she reminded herself.

It didn't matter. He'd still be furious about this. He'd be angry if it happened to Clarissa. So would the Commodore.

Commodore Ross. Maybe she should go to him. It's his ship. He's in charge. Still, what could he do? She hadn't seen their faces. She didn't know who they were. And she'd have to tell him what happened.

Her hand came up and stopped, not quite cupping her swollen breast. She'd have to tell him. She could hear her voice telling the Commodore - and Ty - how they'd touched her, what they'd said to her.

Her face flushed. She couldn't do it.

That's what they want you to feel, she told herself. You're supposed to feel ashamed. They're counting on that.

She didn't care. She pulled off the rest of the clothes that had been soiled by their touch and dragged on some sweats. She wanted to take a shower, but the idea of going down the hall to the VIP showers where Clarissa of Lizzie might walk in at any moment and see her bruised body was too much for her.

She wrapped her afghan around her and curled up on the bed, then closed her eyes.

McQueen was concerned. It was well inot the afternoon and he couldn't seem to find Alex. According to Martinez, Alex had gone to collect Biographical Information Forms on the lower decks and hadn't returned to her office yet. He was heading for the lower decks, when he ran into Pellowski. She told him that she'd found Alex asleep in their quarters when she'd gone to get something around 1300 hours. That definitely wasn't like Alex.

He stood outside her quarters and knocked. No answer. He knocked again. "Alex?"

"... Ty?"

His eyebrows went up. She hadn't called him that in days. "Alex? Open the door."

The hatch opened slowly. The only light in her quarters was coming from the bathroom and she blinked as the light from the hall hit her eyes. They were puffy and swollen. He stepped into the room and shut the door, raking his eyes over her, taking in her rumpled clothing and hair. Her mouth looked bruised.

"What's wrong, Alex?"

She just looked at him.

"Alex." He softened his voice and put his hands on her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

She flinched as his hands touched her, and looked away. When he reached out and flipped the light switch, her right hand came up reflexively to cover her eyes and the sleeve of her top pulled up enough for him to see a bruise on her wrist. He grabbed her hand, gently, and pushed the sleeve further up, his jaw tightening as he saw the fingerprints on her skin.

"Hastings," he said.

"No."

Her voice was so soft he had to stoop to catch the words.

"Maybe," she continued in a dull voice. "I don't know. I didn't see them."

Them. She hadn't seen them. More than one. She'd been attacked.

Rage flashed through him and with it, the thought that he'd let the 58th down. Not just the 58th, but Alex, as well. He was supposed to be looking out for her, and she'd been attacked just for being his friend.

He looked down at her and realized she was crying. He looked closer, then took her chin and turned her head up. Her eyes were glazed. She was in shock.

"Alex, I'm going to take you to sick bay." He reached for the door, but she pulled away from him. He put his hands on her shoulders again. "Alex, you're in shock. I need to take you to sick bay."

"No," she whispered, shaking her head.

He clenched his teeth. He certainly wasn't going to force her. "Why not?"

"I'm safe here."

"You're safe with me, Alex." He made his voice soft and soothing. "I'm not going to let anything else happen to you."

You weren't supposed to let this happen to her, he reminded himself.

She blinked and looked up at him, her eyes finally focusing. "Ty? Are you still mad at me?"

Shame washed through him. He'd gotten angry with her for thinking of him as less than a man, and all the while she was being harassed for being friends with a Tank.

"No, Alex. I'm not mad at you anymore."

More tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm sorry I made a pass at you, Ty. I'm always stupid when I'm drunk."

A pass? She'd made a pass at him?

"I didn't mean to offend you," she continued. "I do find you very attractive, but I'd never have jeopardized our friendship if I was sober."

He sighed, gritting his teeth. He'd misread her completely. He still let his Tank mentality get in the way.

"Alex," he said gently. "I'm not mad at you. We can talk about this later, though. Right now, I need to get you to sick bay."

She looked at the door, then looked at him. She exhaled - a long, trembling breath - then nodded. He put his arms around her for a moment, just to reassure her. She looked so scared. He intended it to be a quick hug, but her arms went around him and she clung to him. Her whole body was trembling and he instinctively held her tighter. She buried her head in his shoulder and cried - deep, racking sobs.

McQueen had little experience with tears. His ex-wife generally hadn't wanted him around when she cried. He knew enough to just hold Alex until the sobs lessened and the tears slowed. Her breathing steadied and he felt her relax a little. He hadn't realized how tense she was.

He lowered his head, feeling very protective, and his chin touched her shoulder. She flinched and tensed again. Pulling back, he looked into her eyes. She was lucid now. The crying must have helped her get past the emotional shock. His hand moved to gently touch the spot on her shoulder. She flinched again, then sighed.

"Yes. It hurts."

He pulled the collar of the sweats aside, exposing a large bruise with teeth marks right on the muscle of her shoulder. The anger started to burn again. Her hand came from around his waist and pulled the collar back over the bruise. He took two deep breaths, trying to control his anger.

"What else did they do?" His voice was harsh.

She shook her head and wouldn't meet his eyes. "I thought you were going to take me to sick bay." Her voice was soft again.

He nodded. "Then I'll go see the Commodore."

She looked up at him and he saw fear in her eyes again. "I'd rather stay with you," she said, clutching at his sleeves.

He couldn't imagine Vansen saying that in similar circumstances. Of course, it was different for Alex. She wasn't military. She didn't know who had attacked her, so she didn't know who she could trust -except for him. He was the only person she really trusted other than the 58th.

And she still trusted him. Despite everything. He couldn't let her down again.

"We'll both go see the Commodore. You'll have to tell him what happened."

She nodded. "I know." He could barely hear her again.

"I'll be with you," he offered.

She laughed, but there was a hysterical edge to it. "I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse," she said.

Commodore Ross was playing his guitar softly when a loud knock sounded at his door.

"Who's there?"

"McQueen and Larson, Sir."

"Come in."

Ross set the guitar down and stood up as Ty held the hatch open for Alex, then followed her in. Ross' eyes narrowed. Ty was practically hovering. Alex's hands were clasped together in an effort to still their visible trembling.

Ty put Alex in a chair, then stood behind her. She looked up at Ty, then glanced at Ross, but couldn't seem to meet his eyes. That was unusual for Alex Larson. Ross looked at Ty again and saw the anger burning in his eyes. This was not good.

"What happened?" He spoke softly. Somehow he knew anger would be the wrong response. "On my ship?" Ross was stunned. "Where?"

"Down on the second level," Ty answered.

"By who?"

Alex shook her head. "I didn't see their faces." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"*Their* faces?" He looked at Ty, who nodded.

Ross looked at Alex closely. Her mouth was bruised. Not just attacked - assaulted. He tasted bile.

Moving slowly, he went around his desk and crouched down in front of Alex, trying to put her at ease. She still wouldn't meet his eyes. "Tell me what happened," he said softly.

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

"Were you raped?" he asked even more gently.

She shook her head again and he exhaled silently in relief. Of course, if she had been raped, Ty would be killing someone right now. And Ross might just help him.

"Tell me," he said again, very softly.

He waited, patiently and, after a few moments, Alex haltingly relayed the story, never once raising her eyes from the floor. Ross felt himself starting to burn with the same anger that was in Ty's eyes. Assaulted simply because she was friends with an In Vitro. They wouldn't dare attack McQueen. Not on Ross' ship. But they must have thought Alex was a safe target.

Ross glanced up at Ty. He was going to have to lock McQueen in the brig when they found the perpetrators. And probably the entire 58th as well.

Alex was very specific in a stunned sort of way, not leaving anything out. The only thing keeping Ty in check was her obvious pain. When she finished, Ty prompted her in a soft, but angry voice. "Tell him about Hastings."

Ross gave McQueen a startled look. Alex told them about two verbal confrontations and another physical assault. She explained how the Wild Cards had 'baby-sat' her so she'd be safe. That hadn't been a bad solution, as far as it went. In retrospect, Ross was even more impressed at the conversation he'd witnessed between Alex and Hastings.

When she finished, Ross clamped down on his anger and gently asked the one question that was foremost in his mind. "Why didn't you tell me? Or Ty?"

She still wouldn't look at him. "I was afraid Ty would do something stupid."

Ross snorted. She wasn't wrong. "You could have told me."

She finally looked up at him with a helpless expression. "Who'd believe something like that?"

"I would."

She stared at him for a moment, then looked back down at the deck. Ross took a deep breath. She was a civilian.

"Ty is going to take you to sick bay, Alex." Ross glanced up at McQueen, who nodded. "Are you comfortable with Dr. Henderson?"

She nodded.

"He'll examine you and collect evidence."

She nodded again.

"You'll have to tell your story to the JAG officer."

"I know," she said softly. She stood and tried to look up, but couldn't meet his eyes again. He could see the tears standing in hers, though. "I'm sorry, Commodore," she whispered. "This whole mess is my fault. If I'd come to you..."

He very carefully put his hands on her shoulders. "This is not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. I wish you'd come to me..." He stopped, not wanting to sound like he blamed her for the incident. "I just want to make sure this does *not* happen again," he finished.

She nodded and a tear crept down her cheek.

He patted her shoulder and pushed her gently toward the door. After she and McQueen left, Ross pulled the intercom handset off the wall and punched in the code for security. Hastings and his two friends would be in the brig in the next half hour. Locating the other two was going to be more of a problem.

Alex was shaking as she and Ty walked into sick bay. Telling the story had been every bit as bad as she'd thought it would be. Ross and Ty were both furious. Worse, they were angry with her for not telling them in the first place and heading off the whole mess.

She wished Ty would put his arms around her again. She felt safe when he touched her. Even when he'd just put his hand on her back to guide her through the halls, it had made her feel better.

"Wait here," he told her. He walked over to Dr. Henderson and started talking. Henderson cast a concerned look in her direction, then he and Ty walked back to where she stood.

"Alex. Colonel McQueen told me what happened. Let's take a look at you and make sure you're all right." Henderson voice was calm, the same one she'd heard him use when he spoke to wounded soldiers.

"Commodore Ross said you needed to collect evidence?" she asked hesitantly.

Henderson nodded. "We'll have to take some pictures and measurements. First, though, I want to make sure you're not injured."

"It's just... a few bruises."

"Let's be sure."

She nodded and looked at Ty.

"I'll be out here," he told her.

She nodded again. Dr. Henderson led her into an examination room and handed her a gown. "I'll send a nurse in," he told her and left.

She pulled off her top and put the gown on. It was one of those irritating, open in the back hospital smocks. She left her pants on. There was no reason to take those off. When she sat on the examination table, the gown drooped off her shoulders, like they always did. A knock sounded and a nurse opened the door and walked in. She glanced at Alex and her gaze settled on the bite.

"Your Tank friend get a little too rough?" she asked with a smirk.

Alex gaped at her, then her jaw clenched. This, she was not going to take. "Get out," she said harshly.

The nurse looked at her, surprised.

"Get out," Alex said, louder this time. She stood up and took the woman's arm, then opened the door and shoved her out.

Dr. Henderson was standing just outside the door, holding a small camera. Ty stared at her from across the room.

Alex looked at Henderson. "The professionalism of your staff leaves a great deal to be desired," she said angrily.

"Dr. Henderson..." the nurse began.

"Nurse Bizell," Henderson interrupted her. "Send Nurse Givens to the examination room." Henderson turned back to Alex and gestured to the exam room. Alex went back inside still angry. It felt good to be angry. It was better then being afraid.

"What did she say?" Henderson asked mildly.

"She asked whether my 'Tank friend' got too rough."

Henderson's face hardened. There was another knock at the door. "Come," he called.

Another nurse walked in. "Nurse Bizell said you needed me, Doctor?" She cast a cold look at Alex.

"Ms. Larson was attacked, Nurse Givens. We need to examine her for injuries, then collect evidence."

Givens thawed visibly at the word 'attacked'.

"Let's start with that bite on your shoulder, Alex." Dr. Henderson's hands were gentle, but they produced a dull ache as he probed the muscle to be certain there was no damage. He manipulated her wrist and studied the pattern of the bruises carefully. "Both of these wounds need to be measured precisely" he told Givens. "If we identify the perpetrators, this will be prosecutable evidence."

He looked at Alex. "What else?" he asked gently.

His face remained impassive as she lowered the gown to expose her breast. She closed her eyes as his hands gently manipulated the swollen flesh.

"There's no permanent damage," he said quietly, "but it will take a day or two for the swelling to subside."

She nodded. "That's the worst of it."

He looked at her. "Is there anything... further down that I should check?"

She blushed. "They didn't rape me."

"Did they touch you?"

She nodded.

"Any pain?"

She nodded. "Sort of an achey throb."

"We should probably have a look, then."

She sighed and stood up. She really hated gynecological exams.

Givens locked the door while Alex removed her lower garments and started to climb on the table.

"Just a moment." Henderson stopped her, moving the gown aside to look at her left hip. Alex glanced down and saw another large bruise, an obvious pattern of fingerprints on her skin. For some reason, the discovery made the tears start up again.

Givens came back and held Alex's hand while Henderson quickly scanned the rest of Alex's body, noting smaller bruises and contusions that needed to be measured and photographed. When he was done, Alex climbed up on the table. Givens got her settled, then took her hand again as Henderson performed a gentle, but thorough, exam. Alex stared at the ceiling, trying not to flinch as another unwelcome hand explored her most private parts. All gynecological exams were unpleasant, but the added humiliation of having to submit to this one after everything else was just too much. A couple of tears trickled down her cheeks.

Henderson stood and snapped the gloves off his hands. "Again, there's no permanent damage, but there is some swelling that will take about a day to subside. Let's collect that evidence, now."

For the next hour, Alex submitted to the additional indignity of having her flesh scraped and measured and photographed. She bit her lip and did whatever she was told, hoping it would be over soon. She understood what rape victims meant when they said they were raped twice, once by the perpetrator and again by the police doctors. Finally, Dr. Henderson said he had everything he needed. She could get dressed.

Henderson left and Givens helped her put her clothes back on. She needed the help at that point. She was trembling from stress and exhaustion. When she walked out into the main room, Henderson was talking to Ty, Ross and another man she didn't recognize. More embarrassment. She squared her shoulders and headed for the four men.

"Alex," Ross said. "Dr. Henderson says you'll be fine."

Alex nodded, not trusting her voice.

"This is Lt. Ollison," Ross continued. "He's the ship's JAG Officer."

"How do you do, Ms. Larson." Ollison's voice was soft and gentle. "I'd like to get your statement now, if you don't mind."

"Can't that wait, Lieutenant?" Ross snapped.

Ollison shrugged apologetically. "It's better to get it while everything is fresh in her mind."

Alex nodded tiredly. Better to get it over with.

Ollison took her to a small room and turned on a tape recorder. He asked her to tell him what had happened, starting from the first incident with Hastings, and she went through it all again. It wasn't as bad telling him as it had been to tell Ross and Ty. She came to end of the narrative and looked at him numbly.

He stood up. "Normally, I'd ask some questions, Ms. Larson, but I can see you're exhausted. I have the most important part and you were very thorough. We can do the rest later."

"Thank you," she said softly.

He nodded and left the room. Ty and Ross came in. She was so tired, she just sat and looked at them.

"I think you need to get some sleep," Ross said softly.

She nodded.

"Have you eaten anything today?"

She shook her head. She wasn't hungry. The thought of food made her nauseous, but she was too tired to say so. Ty walked over and put his hand on her arm. She pushed herself up and stood, waiting for him to tell her what to do next. He and Ross exchanged a look.

"I'll go get her something to eat," Ross said.

Ty nodded and led Alex out the door. She didn't pay any attention to where they were going, until they got off the elevator and she realized they were on the deck that housed the command staff. She looked at him questioningly, but he didn't say anything. They went to Ross' quarters and Ty punched in a code and opened the door.

"You're going to stay here tonight," he said.

"I can't put the Commodore out of his own quarters," Alex protested.

"He insisted."

"Why can't I just stay in my own quarters?"

"Alex, we don't know who attacked you. The Commodore isn't willing to take a chance on someone knowing your door code. We can't post a guard because we don't know who we can trust yet."

She thought about that. "I could stay in the 58th's quarters. They wouldn't mind."

He shook his head. "We thought about that, but their quarters are too easily accessible. It still wouldn't be safe. This is the best place. No one would expect you to be here."

"Or care if I were," she said softly.

He gave her a questioning look.

"They attacked me because they thought I was sleeping with you. They'd probably be thrilled to find me in Commodore Ross' bed."

He tried, but he couldn't prevent the grin that spread across his face. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

She sat down in the chair again and sighed.

He crouched beside her. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I'd really like to take a shower."

He walked over to a closed door and opened it to reveal a bathroom with a shower.

She smiled. "Do you think the Commodore would mind?"

"Not at all," he said. "There're towels in the cabinet.

She walked into the bathroom and stripped quickly, turning on the shower and setting the water temperature to hot. She stepped in and let the water slide over her skin, washing away the indignities of the past several hours. She stood there, feeling the water play over her skin. It was so soothing. She just wanted to stay in here forever.

Ross came into his quarters carrying a tray. "Where is she?" he asked.

McQueen nodded toward the bathroom, then inspected the tray. There was a bowl of Jello, one of applesauce and a small piece of chicken.

Ross shrugged. "I figured the easier it was to eat, the better."

McQueen nodded in agreement.

"Did she object to staying here?" Ross asked.

"She wasn't happy about putting you out," McQueen told him. "But she thought it was a good idea. Had a better reason then we did."

"Which was?"

"She said if they thought she was sharing your bed, they wouldn't have any reason to attack her."

A slow grin spread over Ross' face. "I wish I'd thought of that."

McQueen gave a tiny grin.

"You're staying here tonight, Ty."

McQueen didn't argue. He wouldn't have felt comfortable leaving her anyway. Not unless Ross stayed with her.

"I know you," Ross continued. "If you left, you'd just bed down in the corridor and that would give the whole game away."

McQueen snorted. Ross did know him. He was one of the few, maybe the only one.

"I'll stay in your quarters," Ross said.

McQueen nodded. He didn't bother to offer his door code. Ross knew it already. He was the only one on the Saratoga who did.

"Any ideas on how to identify those two?" Ross asked after a short silence.

McQueen shook his head. He didn't have to ask who Ross meant. "Short of having every one of the 15,000 crew members say something to her, no."

"8,800," Ross said.

McQueen gave him a questioning look.

"We can exclude all the women," Ross said.

McQueen nodded. He should have thought of that. "Also, everyone who was out on patrol," he said thoughtfully.

"Anyone she already knows," Ross added.

"We should be able to exclude men on crowded duty shifts," McQueen suggested.

"Unless they're covering for each other."

McQueen nodded.

Ross sighed heavily. "This is not going to be easy, Ty. And until we find them, we can not leave her alone."

McQueen nodded again. He shouldn't have left her alone in the first place. He' expected to have at least a few hours grace while she was in her office this morning. By the time he went looking for her, she'd already gone off on her own.

Ross studied McQueen's face, then spoke softly. "This is not your fault, Ty. There was no way you could have known it would escalate this quickly."

I should have known, McQueen thought. I've lived with this all my life.

Ross put his hand on McQueen's shoulder. "She's all right, Ty. Let it go."

McQueen didn't answer.

Ross looked at him for a moment longer, then went to the door. "Good night, Ty."

"Good night, Sir."

McQueen sat and waited for Alex to come out of the shower. She was in there for quite a long time, but under the circumstances, it made sense. He'd felt the same need for a physical cleansing once or twice himself.

Eventually, the door opened and Alex walked out of the bathroom wearing her sweats. Her hair was damp where it met her neck. She looked a little better. Her eyes were clearer again, but she was obviously exhausted, physically and emotionally.

"You need to eat something before you fall asleep," he told her.

"I'm not hungry."

"I know. But you need to eat."

She looked at him and sighed. He pointed to the desk where the tray of food was. She walked over and forced herself to eat the applesauce and a few bites of Jello. The chicken she left untouched.

McQueen sat in the comfortable red chair and watched her eat. She was so tired she didn't even notice. She just focused on each bite she lifted to her mouth. He studied her, thinking about the way he'd treated her over the past few days.

She'd made a pass at him. It had been so subtle, he'd taken it for a joke and decided that she had no respect for him as a man. She *was* subtle, though, at least in this area. She wasn't a woman who gave herself lightly or often. He knew that, but he'd forgotten it. She was so outspoken in other areas, so sure of herself in her work, the he'd missed or ignored the obvious shyness she exhibited when it came to romance and sex. He'd allowed his own pain, built up from hundreds of casual encounters with Natural Born women, to influence his interpretation of what she'd said. He'd treated her badly.

She finished eating and looked over at him. There was no initiative left in her eyes. She was just waiting to be told what to do next.

"Bed," he said.

She stared at him blankly for a moment, then nodded. As she stood up and walked over to Ross' bed, McQueen pulled back the blanket and sheet for her. He wondered if she realized that he was tucking her in as she'd asked him to that night. She slid her legs under the sheets and lay down. As he pulled the sheet up and covered her with it, she sighed deeply and closed her eyes. He walked away from the bed, headed for the light switch near the door.

"You're not leaving are you?" she asked sitting up part way.

"No."

He turned off the overhead light, leaving just the small desk lamp on. Then he went and sat down in the rolling chair behind Ross' desk and propped his feet up as he'd seen Ross do a hundred times.

"I'll be right here."

"Good." Her voice was soft and he could tell she was almost asleep.

He settled himself comfortably and sat, watching her as she slept.

Alex woke slowly, opening her eyes and looking around, groggily. She didn't know where she was until her eyes settled on Ty. He was sitting in a chair with his feet propped up on a desk. His hands were folded on his stomach and his eyes were closed, but she didn't think he was asleep. Not unless he could sleep with his head completely upright.

"Ty?" She spoke very softly, in case she was wrong.

His eyes opened and he brought his feet down and stood up. He walked over to the bed and crouched down.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

She smiled sadly and raised herself so she was leaning on one elbow. The movement brought her eyes level with his.

"Where should I start?" she asked in answer.

He lowered his head and she suddenly realized that he felt responsible for what had happened to her. Not surprising given his sense of honor.

She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. "You can't control other people, Ty. They make their own choices."

He looked into her eyes and she saw the pain. It make her heart ache. She wished she'd told him or Ross before so this wouldn't have happened. She didn't mind for herself, but she couldn't stand to see him hurting like this.

A single tear crept down her cheek. "I'm sorry, Ty."

He reached out and wiped the tear away with his thumb, then left his palm resting against her cheek. She closed her eyes and tilted her head into his hand and his thumb moved again, caressing her face. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, looking into his. Her lips parted as she saw something in his eyes, in the tilt of his head, the way he was looking at her. Her breath caught and she leaned forward without realizing she was moving.

He met her halfway and her eyes drifted closed again as his lips gently brushed across hers. She breathed his name and his mouth came down on hers, still gentle, but firmer. His lips moved slowly over hers, exploring, tasting. She leaned into the kiss and his hand moved, cupping her head from behind and holding her mouth to his.

She gave herself to the kiss, letting it clear away the memories of the earlier violation. She'd wanted him to kiss her like this for so long.

Her hand slipped off his shoulder and went around his neck, pulling him closer. He raised himself, without taking his lips from hers, until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Her other arm went around his waist and his arms went around her body, pulling her up to meet him. She was cradled against his chest as his mouth continued to gently explore hers.

He deepened the kiss, tentatively at first, then more surely as she shyly responded. She pressed closer to him and a soft sound of pleasure came from her throat. The sound seemed to give him confidence, because his arms tightened and he became more assertive. She kissed him back, relishing the feel of his strong arms around her, his body pressed against hers. He shifted her in his arms pulling her closer still, and a sudden sharp pain made her gasp.

He stopped instantly and pulled back. Her arm moved from around his neck and protectively cradled her wounded breast. Through main force of will, she kept her hand from cupping the bruised flesh. His eyes dropped to her arm and she blushed, seeing that he understood what had happened. He sighed and lowered his head, his forehead brushing against hers. He didn't pull her close again, though.

She felt tears welling up as she realized he'd stopped. He wouldn't touch her again, at least not tonight. He wouldn't take a chance on hurting her. Her arm went back around his neck and she pressed herself close again. "Ty..." she whispered in his ear.

"No."

She buried her head in his shoulder and he held her, cradling her protectively to his chest. His gently amorous mood was gone, though.

"You should get some more sleep," he said softly.

"I'd rather stay awake and have you hold me." It was barely a whisper.

He pulled away from her and looked into her eyes. "Lie down," he told her.

Another tear slipped out and she turned to face the wall so he wouldn't see her cry. She lay down on her side and he pulled the sheet up to her waist. A moment later, his weight came down on the bed beside her.

"Ty?"

"Shh." He lay down behind her and slipped one of his arms under her ribs, then pulled her against him, the other arm circling her waist. A warm flush ran through her body, which might have been pleasure or desire or a feeling of absolute safety - or perhaps all three. She held one of his hands in hers and relaxed against him, feeling the sheets and their clothes between their two bodies.

"Go to sleep," he said.

She closed her eyes and settled her head back against his shoulder. His chin rested on her shoulder and his cheek pressed against hers.

"Go to sleep," he said again. With a deep sigh of absolute contentment, she obeyed.

Ross punched in his security code and opened the door as quietly as he could. Ty was looking at the door from the bed where he lay with his arms wrapped around Alex. Ross' eyebrows rose and he tried not to grin. Only Ty McQueen would be in bed with a beautiful, intelligent, obviously willing woman while both of them were still fully clothed.

Ty slipped his arms out from under Alex. She murmured in her sleep, but didn't wake as he slid out of bed and walked over to Ross.

"Commodore?" he said softly.

"I've been thinking about what Alex suggested earlier," Ross said. "It might be better if she leaves my quarters with me this morning."

Ty's face darkened slightly, but he nodded. "She'd be safer that way," he agreed.

Ross cocked his head and studied McQueen. This was a proud man. "That's not an order, Ty."

McQueen met his eyes. Ross tried to put his willingness to be led by McQueen into his expression. It wasn't something he was used to doing, but in this case, he felt it was necessary that Ty know that Ross had no intention of claim-jumping.

"All I'm suggesting is the *appearance* that she and I have a relationship. It's your decision to make."

Only someone who knew him as well as Ross did would have noticed how McQueen relaxed the tiniest bit.

"Ty?"

Both men turned as Alex sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. She smiled shyly when she saw Ross standing by the door. "Thank you for loaning me your bed, Commodore."

Ross smiled. "My pleasure, Alex."

She looked from one man to the other. "What's up?"

Ross and McQueen traded glances. "The Commodore was suggesting that we take this one step further," McQueen said.

"Take what one step further?" she asked.

"The Commodore feels that it would be in your best interest if we allow the crew to believe that he stayed here with you last night."

Alex looked at Ross and blushed, but didn't look away. "Please don't take this the wrong way, Commodore, but I'd rather not."

"Why not?" he asked.

She looked down, then stood up and padded over on bare feet to stand next to McQueen. She rather hesitantly placed her hand on his arm, then looked at Ross.

"Because that feels like giving in to them. We haven't done anything wrong. Even if we were lovers..." She blushed furiously as she said the word and Ross smothered a grin. "...it still wouldn't justify what they've done. There's no reason why an In Vitro and a Natural Born shouldn't have any kind of relationship they want to have. Even pretending something else for an day or an hour seems... wrong."

McQueen's jaw tightened. "We're not asking you to pretend that you agree with them, just that..."

"I know," she interrupted. "I'd really rather not give in to the prejudice like that."

Ross watched as McQueen absorbed that statement. He knew Ty was remembering how another woman, a good woman that he'd loved, *had* given in to the prejudice. Ty's ex-wife was a sweet lady. Ross had liked her, but she hadn't been strong enough to handle being the wife of an In Vitro. Alex was a different breed entirely.

Ross pursed his lips and gave Alex a measuring look. "It's your decision to make, Alex. I certainly can't force you, and I don't have the authority to order you to do this."

Alex smiled slowly. "No, but I bet that's never stopped you from trying before."

Ross chuckled, pleased to see that Alex's mischievous smile had returned.

"Well," he said. "In that case, you two can just move into Ty's quarters. I want my own bed back."

Alex laughed and smiled a wicked smile. "Is that an order, Commodore?"

"No," Ty said shortly, giving Ross a direct look. "Just a suggestion. Isn't that right, Commodore?"

Ross shrugged. "If that's the way you want to take it, Colonel. Are you really willing to put her in her quarters alone?"

Ross smothered another grin as Ty struggled with that one. He knew how difficult it was going to be for these two to wind up in bed together - with their clothes off, anyway. Alex was shy and McQueen was as skittish as a virgin. There was no way Ty would leave Alex alone, though, which necessitated their living in close quarters for a while. If they hadn't gotten together by the time the Wild Cards returned, though, Ross might have to enlist a little help in his romantic plot.

McQueen finally shook his head. "No, Sir."

"Well then, Colonel, I'd say you understand your mission. If I were you, I wouldn't leave her alone anywhere until the 58th returns. Dismissed."

Alex put on her shoes and followed Ty to the door. She gave Ross a questioning look as McQueen opened the door. Ross winked at her and she blushed and hid a grin.

Ty didn't seem particularly comfortable as he led Alex down the hall to his own quarters. She was a little uncomfortable herself, really. She'd never been invited to Ty's quarters before.

She glanced over at him and saw a set jaw and an expression on his face that suggested he would carry out his duty no matter how painful or personally distasteful. She sighed and stopped walking. Ross might think he was helping, but no one forced Tyrus McQueen to go somewhere he didn't want to. And right now, he didn't want to go anywhere with Alex.

Ty took another couple of steps before he realized that Alex wasn't keeping up with him anymore. He stopped and looked at her, then walked back to her with a question plain on his face.

"I think you should just take me back to my own quarters," she said.

"It's not safe there." His answer was automatic.

She smiled sadly. "Maybe not. But I'd rather be unsafe in my own quarters than unwelcome in yours."

A flicker of embarrassment crossed his face. "You're not... unwelcome."

"Ty, you've never invited me to your quarters, not once in all the time I've been on board the Saratoga. You wouldn't be taking me there now if the Commodore had given you a better option."

"You were the one who turned down the better option."

She flushed, but with anger this time, not embarrassment. "If it would make you feel better, I can go back and accept that 'better option' right now."

He looked at her a moment, then shook his head. "No."

He indicated that he wanted her to keep walking. She shook her head in confusion and started moving again. "'No', you don't want me to accept that other option or 'no' it wouldn't make you feel better?" she asked.

He glanced at her and, for a moment, she didn't think he'd answer. "Both," he said finally.

A tiny feeling of triumph shot through her. He didn't want her to pretend to be with the Commodore. He wanted everyone to know they were together.

Except we aren't together, she reminded herself. And despite the fact that he'd kissed her before, he might not want to go any further with her. He could still change his mind.

She lowered her eyes as they walked in silence. She suddenly wondered what time it was. She'd slept pretty well, but she was still tired. Probably a response to the stress and shock.

"How long did I sleep?"

"About three and a half hours the first time. Another two before the Commodore returned."

She'd only had five and half hours sleep. No wonder she was tired. That meant it was... She realized suddenly that she had no idea what time she'd gone to sleep, no idea how much time she'd spent in sick bay or even when she'd gone there in the first place. She had absolutely no clue how much time had passed since she'd been attacked.

"What time is it?" she asked.

He glanced at his watch. "0415."

She'd been attacked around 1100. She'd lost more than seventeen hours. She thought about that, trying to readjust her thinking.

Ty stopped and she looked at the nameplate on the hatch. Lt. Col. T. C. McQueen. She glanced politely away as Ty reached up to punch in his door code.

"Alex."

She looked up and met his eyes. He looked over at his hand and her eyes followed his. He punched in the door code slowly, then looked at her, his eyes asking if she'd gotten it. She flushed with pleasure that he would trust her like this.

"I want you to be able to come here anytime. If you ever have a problem, come here and wait for me." His look was intense and demanding.

She nodded in response to that demand. His protectiveness made her feel different somehow. When she'd been drunk, it had made her angry, but now she felt surrounded by his strength. She felt completely defenseless in herself, not knowing who she could trust on board the Saratoga, yet totally safe at the same time because of Ty and Ross' obvious determination to protect her.

It was an odd feeling for her, being protected. She usually mothered everyone around her. She realized suddenly that, if she wasn't careful, Ty would try to 'parent' her the way he did the 58th. Her jaw set. *That* was not going to be acceptable.

He opened the door and ushered her in. His quarters were neat and tidy. Everything clearly had a place and had been ruthlessly returned to it. She glanced around, and felt like an intruder. He hadn't invited her here, he'd been ordered to bring her. Still, he'd given her his door code and told her to come anytime.

She looked at him and asked permission with her eyes. He nodded, so she walked around the room, looking at his possessions. There was a bookshelf full of books, including the ones she had given him. There was a grille top desk with calligraphy pens and brushes. A bonsai tree, carefully trimmed, sat behind an old iron tea kettle and a cup with no handles. The decor - a wall hanging and a few knick knacks - was oriental and simple. A second desk, obviously the one he worked at, held a picture of himself and a blonde woman - a wedding picture.

Her breath caught as she realized that she knew so much less about him than she'd thought. He couldn't still be married. He'd never have kissed her. Yet he still displayed the picture.

A wave of jealousy rushed through her and she wanted to demand answers. Was she dead? Were they divorced? Did he still love her? She bit her tongue, knowing she had no right to ask those questions, no right to demand the answers. She swallowed hard, wishing he hadn't brought her here to see that picture.

"We're divorced."

He said it matter-of-factly. She realized she was staring at the picture and averted her eyes quickly. A picture of George Washington hung on the wall next to a small case holding a Medal of Honor.

"It's been about... three years," he said.

Three years. They were divorced. But the picture still stood on his desk - the desk where he worked.

She looked down and realized she was twisting her hands together. She wanted to look up and meet his eyes, but she couldn't make herself do it. Her eyes were drawn back to that picture in spite of herself.

He looked like a little boy, a proud, happy smile on his face. The woman looked at him with love in her eyes. They'd obviously been in love when they married. What happened?

She forced herself to look up at him and saw that he was watching her. There was wariness in his eyes and old pain and something else she couldn't identify. She looked away and once again, her eyes went to the picture.

"In a way," he said hesitantly, "even though we're divorced, she's the only family I have."

Her eyes closed as she realized how alone he really was. Once again, the abstraction of the In Vitro situation had blinded her to the realities of this man's life. Of course he displayed her picture. She was the only person he had any claim to in the entire universe.

She took a deep, ragged breath and turned to face him. He stood there, so strong, yet so *alone*. Her heart gave an uneven thud in her chest as she looked at him and had a flash of insight into what it must be like for him. No one to turn to. No one to count on. No one to love.

A tear crept down her cheek. She wanted to throw her arms around him, but he'd learned long ago how to draw privacy around him like a wall. She just stood and looked at him, hiding nothing of what she felt.

He studied her and his face softened. She saw curiosity and concern and other unidentifiable emotions. He stepped closer, slowly, but not uncertainly - as though he thought she might start and flee from him. He reached out hesitantly and wiped the tear from her cheek again.

A tiny sob escaped her. How could he be so gentle? After all that had been done to him, all that had been taken, how could he be so careful never to hurt anyone? That was the answer, she knew it. He had been hurt so much, he had promised himself never to give the same pain back.

Her shoulders began to shake as she cried for him, for all his pain. His arms went around her and he pulled her against him. She set her head on his shoulder and reached up, wrapping her arms around his ribcage as she cried all the tears he would never allow himself to shed.

© 1998 Tere L. Matthews